{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_24686/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_24686","id":"gutenberg_24686","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/24686","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Essays, Letters & Speeches","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Comparative linguistics","Folklore","Literature -- History and criticism","Mythology","Religions"],"text":"Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Geetu Melwani, Thierry\nAlberto, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at\nhttp://www.pgdp.net\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n                         Transcriber's Note:\n\nThis book had a number of typesetting errors such as missing text,\npages, duplicate pages, and text. The text has been verified with the\netext available with the Internet Archives\n(http://www.archive.org/details/germanwork01mulluoft) and corrected\nwith the addition of missing text and removal of duplicate text. The\nInternet archive edition is a 1872 edition whereas this is a 1867\nedition.\n\nDetails of corrections and additions are given at the end of the book.\n\n\n\n                                CHIPS\n\n                       FROM A GERMAN WORKSHOP.\n\n\n\n\n\n                                  BY\n\n                           MAX MUeLLER, M.A.\n\n                 FELLOW OF ALL SOULS COLLEGE, OXFORD.\n\n\n\n\n\n                              VOLUME I.\n\n                  Essays on the Science of Religion.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n                                LONDON\n\n                       LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.\n\n                                 1867\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\n\n\n_To the Memory_\n\nOF\n\nBARON BUNSEN,\n\nMY FRIEND AND BENEFACTOR.\n\n\n\n\n                      _et quanto diutius\n    Abes, magis cupio tanto et magis desidero._\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\nMore than twenty years have passed since my revered friend Bunsen\ncalled me one day into his library at Carlton House Terrace, and\nannounced to me with beaming eyes that the publication of the Rig-veda\nwas secure. He had spent many days in seeing the Directors of the\nEast-India Company, and explaining to them the importance of this\nwork, and the necessity of having it published in England. At last his\nefforts had been successful, the funds for printing my edition of the\ntext and commentary of the Sacred Hymns of the Brahmans had been\ngranted, and Bunsen was the first to announce to me the happy result\nof his literary diplomacy. 'Now,' he said, 'you have got a work for\nlife--a large block that will take years to plane and polish.' 'But\nmind,' he added, 'let us have from time to time some chips from your\nworkshop.'\n\nI have tried to follow the advice of my departed friend, and I have\npublished almost every year a few articles on such subjects as had\nengaged my attention, while prosecuting at the same time, as far as\naltered circumstances would allow, my edition of the Rig-veda, and of\nother Sanskrit works connected with it. These articles were chiefly\npublished in the 'Edinburgh' and 'Quarterly Reviews,' in the 'Oxford\nEssays,' in 'Macmillan's' and 'Fraser's Magazines,' in the 'Saturday\nReview,' and in the 'Times.' In writing them my principal endeavour\nhas been to bring out even in the most abstruse subjects the points of\nreal interest that ought to engage the attention of the public at\nlarge, and never to leave a dark nook or corner without attempting to\nsweep away the cobwebs of false learning, and let in the light of real\nknowledge. Here, too, I owe much to Bunsen's advice, and when last\nyear I saw in Cornwall the large heaps of copper ore piled up around\nthe mines, like so many heaps of rubbish, while the poor people were\nasking for coppers to buy bread, I frequently thought of Bunsen's\nwords, 'Your work is not finished when you have brought the ore from\nthe mine: it must be sifted, smelted, refined, and coined before it\ncan be of real use, and contribute towards the intellectual food of\nmankind.' I can hardly hope that in this my endeavour to be clear and\nplain, to follow the threads of every thought to the very ends, and to\nplace the web of every argument clearly and fully before my readers, I\nhave always been successful. Several of the subjects treated in these\nessays are, no doubt, obscure and difficult: but there is no subject,\nI believe, in the whole realm of human knowledge, that cannot be\nrendered clear and intelligible, if we ourselves have perfectly\nmastered it. And now while the two last volumes of my edition of the\nRig-veda are passing through the press, I thought the time had come\nfor gathering up a few armfulls of these chips and splinters, throwing\naway what seemed worthless, and putting the rest into some kind of\nshape, in order to clear my workshop for other work.\n\nThe first and second volumes which I am now publishing contain essays\non the early thoughts of mankind, whether religious or mythological,\nand on early traditions and customs. There is to my mind no subject\nmore absorbing than the tracing the origin and first growth of human\nthought;--not theoretically, or in accordance with the Hegelian laws\nof thought, or the Comtian epochs; but historically, and like an\nIndian trapper, spying for every footprint, every layer, every broken\nblade that might tell and testify of the former presence of man in his\nearly wanderings and searchings after light and truth.\n\nIn the languages of mankind, in which everything new is old and\neverything old is new, an inexhaustible mine has been discovered for\nresearches of this kind. Language still bears the impress of the\nearliest thoughts of man, obliterated, it may be, buried under new\nthoughts, yet here and there still recoverable in their sharp original\noutline. The growth of language is continuous, and by continuing our\nresearches backward from the most modern to the most ancient strata,\nthe very elements and roots of human speech have been reached, and\nwith them the elements and roots of human thought. What lies beyond\nthe beginnings of language, however interesting it may be to the\nphysiologist, does not yet belong to the history of man, in the true\nand original sense of that word. Man means the thinker, and the first\nmanifestation of thought is speech.\n\nBut more surprising than the continuity in the growth of language, is\nthe continuity in the growth of religion. Of religion, too, as of\nlanguage, it may be said that in it everything new is old, and\neverything old is new, and that there has been no entirely new\nreligion since the beginning of the world. The elements and roots of\nreligion were there, as far back as we can trace the history of man;\nand the history of religion, like the history of language, shows us\nthroughout a succession of new combinations of the same radical\nelements. An intuition of God, a sense of human weakness and\ndependence, a belief in a Divine government of the world, a\ndistinction between good and evil, and a hope of a better life, these\nare some of the radical elements of all religions. Though sometimes\nhidden, they rise again and again to the surface. Though frequently\ndistorted, they tend again and again to their perfect form. Unless\nthey had formed part of the original dowry of the human soul, religion\nitself would have remained an impossibility, and the tongues of\nangels would have been to human ears but as sounding brass or a\ntinkling cymbal. If we once understand this clearly, the words of St.\nAugustine which have seemed startling to many of his admirers, become\nperfectly clear and intelligible, when he says:[1] 'What is now called\nthe Christian religion, has existed among the ancients, and was not\nabsent from the beginning of the human race, until Christ came in the\nflesh: from which time the true religion, which existed already, began\nto be called Christian.' From this point of view the words of Christ\ntoo, which startled the Jews, assume their true meaning, when He said\nto the centurion of Capernaum: 'Many shall come from the east and the\nwest, and shall sit down with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, in the\nkingdom of heaven.'\n\n[Footnote 1: August. Retr. 1, 13. 'Res ipsa, quae nunc religio\nChristiana nuncupatur, erat apud antiquos, nec defuit ab initio\ngeneris humani, quousque Christus veniret in carnem, unde vera\nreligio, quae jam erat, coepit appellari Christiana.']\n\nDuring the last fifty years the accumulation of new and authentic\nmaterials for the study of the religions of the world, has been most\nextraordinary; but such are the difficulties in mastering these\nmaterials that I doubt whether the time has yet come for attempting to\ntrace, after the model of the Science of Language, the definite\noutlines of the Science of Religion. By a succession of the most\nfortunate circumstances, the canonical books of three of the\nprincipal religions of the ancient world have lately been recovered,\nthe Veda, the Zend-Avesta, and the Tripi_t_aka. But not only have we\nthus gained access to the most authentic documents from which to study\nthe ancient religion of the Brahmans, the Zoroastrians, and the\nBuddhists, but by discovering the real origin of Greek, Roman, and\nlikewise of Teutonic, Slavonic, and Celtic mythology, it has become\npossible to separate the truly religious elements in the sacred\ntraditions of these nations from the mythological crust by which they\nare surrounded, and thus to gain a clearer insight into the real faith\nof the ancient Aryan world.\n\nIf we turn to the Semitic world, we find that although no new\nmaterials have been discovered from which to study the ancient\nreligion of the Jews, yet a new spirit of inquiry has brought new life\ninto the study of the sacred records of Abraham, Moses, and the\nProphets; and the recent researches of Biblical scholars, though\nstarting from the most opposite points, have all helped to bring out\nthe historical interest of the Old Testament, in a manner not dreamt\nof by former theologians. The same may be said of another Semitic\nreligion, the religion of Mohammed, since the Koran and the literature\nconnected with it were submitted to the searching criticism of real\nscholars and historians. Some new materials for the study of the\nSemitic religions have come from the monuments of Babylon and\nNineveh. The very images of Bel and Nisroch now stand before our\neyes, and the inscriptions on the tablets may hereafter tell us even\nmore of the thoughts of those who bowed their knees before them. The\nreligious worship of the Phenicians and Carthaginians has been\nillustrated by Movers from the ruins of their ancient temples, and\nfrom scattered notices in classical writers; nay, even the religious\nideas of the Nomads of the Arabian peninsula, previous to the rise of\nMohammedanism, have been brought to light by the patient researches of\nOriental scholars.\n\nThere is no lack of idols among the ruined and buried temples of Egypt\nwith which to reconstruct the pantheon of that primeval country: nor\nneed we despair of recovering more and more of the thoughts buried\nunder the hieroglyphics of the inscriptions, or preserved in hieratic\nand demotic MSS., if we watch the brilliant discoveries that have\nrewarded the patient researches of the disciples of Champollion.\n\nBesides the Aryan and Semitic families of religion, we have in China\nthree recognised forms of public worship, the religion of Confucius,\nthat of Lao-tse, and that of Fo (Buddha); and here, too, recent\npublications have shed new light, and have rendered an access to the\ncanonical works of these religions, and an understanding of their\nvarious purports, more easy, even to those who have not mastered the\nintricacies of the Chinese language.\n\nAmong the Turanian nations, a few only, such as the Finns, and the\nMongolians, have preserved some remnants of their ancient worship and\nmythology, and these too have lately been more carefully collected and\nexplained by d'Ohson, Castren, and others.\n\nIn America the religions of Mexico and Peru had long attracted the\nattention of theologians; and of late years the impulse imparted to\nethnological researches has induced travellers and missionaries to\nrecord any traces of religious life that could be discovered among the\nsavage inhabitants of Africa, America, and the Polynesian islands.\n\nIt will be seen from these few indications, that there is no lack of\nmaterials for the student of religion; but we shall also perceive how\ndifficult it is to master such vast materials. To gain a full\nknowledge of the Veda, or the Zend-Avesta, or the Tripi_t_aka, of the\nOld Testament, the Koran, or the sacred books of China, is the work of\na whole life. How then is one man to survey the whole field of\nreligious thought, to classify the religions of the world according to\ndefinite and permanent criteria, and to describe their characteristic\nfeatures with a sure and discriminating hand?\n\nNothing is more difficult to seize than the salient features, the\ntraits that constitute the permanent expression and real character of\na religion. Religion seems to be the common property of a large\ncommunity, and yet it not only varies in numerous sects, as language\ndoes in its dialects, but it really escapes our firm grasp till we can\ntrace it to its real habitat, the heart of one true believer. We speak\nglibly of Buddhism and Brahmanism, forgetting that we are generalizing\non the most intimate convictions of millions and millions of human\nsouls, divided by half the world and by thousands of years.\n\nIt may be said that at all events where a religion possesses canonical\nbooks, or a definite number of articles, the task of the student of\nreligion becomes easier, and this, no doubt, is true to a certain\nextent. But even then we know that the interpretation of these\ncanonical books varies, so much so that sects appealing to the same\nrevealed authorities, as, for instance, the founders of the Vedanta\nand the Sankhya systems, accuse each other of error, if not of wilful\nerror or heresy. Articles too, though drawn up with a view to define\nthe principal doctrines of a religion, lose much of their historical\nvalue by the treatment they receive from subsequent schools; and they\nare frequently silent on the very points which make religion what it\nis.\n\nA few instances may serve to show what difficulties the student of\nreligion has to contend with, before he can hope firmly to grasp the\nfacts on which his theories are to be based.\n\nRoman Catholic missionaries who had spent their lives in China, who\nhad every opportunity, while staying at the court of Pekin, of\nstudying in the original the canonical works of Confucius and their\ncommentaries, who could consult the greatest theologians then living,\nand converse with the crowds that thronged the temples of the capital,\ndiffered diametrically in their opinions as to the most vital points\nin the state religion of China. Lecomte, Fouquet, Premare, and Bouvet\nthought it undeniable that Confucius, his predecessors and his\ndisciples, had entertained the noblest ideas on the constitution of\nthe universe, and had sacrificed to the true God in the most ancient\ntemple of the earth. According to Maigrot, Navarette, on the contrary,\nand even according to the Jesuit Longobardi, the adoration of the\nChinese was addressed to inanimate tablets, meaningless inscriptions,\nor, in the best case, to coarse ancestral spirits and beings without\nintelligence.[2] If we believe the former, the ancient deism of China\napproached the purity of the Christian religion; if we listen to the\nlatter, the absurd fetichism of the multitude degenerated amongst the\neducated, into systematic materialism and atheism. In answer to the\nperemptory texts quoted by one party, the other adduced the glosses of\naccredited interpreters, and the dispute of the missionaries who had\nlived in China and knew Chinese, had to be settled in the last\ninstance by a decision of the see of Rome.\n\n[Footnote 2: Abel Remusat, 'Melanges,' p. 162.]\n\nThere is hardly any religion that has been studied in its sacred\nliterature, and watched in its external worship with greater care\nthan the modern religion of the Hindus, and yet it would be extremely\nhard to give a faithful and intelligible description of it. Most\npeople who have lived in India would maintain that the Indian\nreligion, as believed in and practised at present by the mass of the\npeople, is idol worship and nothing else. But let us hear one of the\nmass of the people, a Hindu of Benares, who in a lecture delivered\nbefore an English and native audience defends his faith and the faith\nof his forefathers against such sweeping accusations. 'If by\nidolatry,' he says, \"is meant a system of worship which confines our\nideas of the Deity to a mere image of clay or stone, which prevents\nour hearts from being expanded and elevated with lofty notions of the\nattributes of God, if this is what is meant by idolatry, we disclaim\nidolatry, we abhor idolatry, and deplore the ignorance or\nuncharitableness of those that charge us with this grovelling system\nof worship.... But if, firmly believing, as we do, in the omnipresence\nof God, we behold, by the aid of our imagination, in the form of an\nimage any of his glorious manifestations, ought we to be charged with\nidentifying them with the matter of the image, whilst during those\nmoments of sincere and fervent devotion, we do not even think of\nmatter? If at the sight of a portrait of a beloved and venerated\nfriend no longer existing in this world, our heart is filled with\nsentiments of love and reverence; if we fancy him present in the\npicture, still looking upon us with his wonted tenderness and\naffection, and then indulge our feelings of love and gratitude, should\nwe be charged with offering the grossest insult to him--that of\nfancying him to be no other than a piece of painted paper?... We\nreally lament the ignorance or uncharitableness of those who confound\nour representative worship with the Phenician, Grecian, or Roman\nidolatry as represented by European writers, and then charge us with\npolytheism in the teeth of thousands of texts in the Pura_n_as\ndeclaring in clear and unmistakable terms that there is but one God\nwho manifests Himself as Brahma, Vish_n_u, and Rudra (Siva), in His\nfunctions of creation, preservation, and destruction.\"[3]\n\n[Footnote 3: The modern pandit's reply to the missionary who accuses\nhim of polytheism is: \"O, these are only various manifestations of the\none God; the same as, though the sun be one in the heavens, yet he\nappears in multi-form reflections upon the lake. The various sects are\nonly different entrances to the one city.\" See W. W. Hunter, _Annals\nof Rural Bengal_, p. 116.]\n\nIn support of these statements, this eloquent advocate quotes numerous\npassages from the sacred literature of the Brahmans, and he sums up\nhis view of the three manifestations of the Deity in the words of\ntheir great poet Kalidasa, as translated by Mr. Griffith:--\n\n    \"In those Three Persons the One God was shown:\n    Each First in place, each Last,--not one alone;\n    Of Siva, Vish_n_u, Brahma, each may be\n    First, second, third, among the Blessed Three.\"\n\nIf such contradictory views can be held and defended with regard to\nreligious systems still prevalent amongst us, where we can\ncross-examine living witnesses, and appeal to chapter and verse in\ntheir sacred writings, what must the difficulty be when we have to\ndeal with the religions of the past? I do not wish to disguise these\ndifficulties which are inherent in a comparative study of the\nreligions of the world. I rather dwell on them strongly, in order to\nshow how much care and caution is required in so difficult a subject,\nand how much indulgence should be shown in judging of the shortcomings\nand errors that are unavoidable in so comprehensive a study. It was\nsupposed at one time that a comparative analysis of the languages of\nmankind must transcend the powers of man: and yet by the combined and\nwell directed efforts of many scholars, great results have here been\nobtained, and the principles that must guide the student of the\nScience of Language are now firmly established. It will be the same\nwith the Science of Religion. By a proper division of labor, the\nmaterials that are still wanting will be collected and published and\ntranslated, and when that is done, surely man will never rest till he\nhas discovered the purpose that runs through the religions of mankind,\nand till he has reconstructed the true _Civitas Dei_ on foundations as\nwide as the ends of the world. The Science of Religion may be the last\nof the sciences which man is destined to elaborate; but when it is\nelaborated, it will change the aspect of the world, and give a new\nlife to Christianity itself.\n\nThe Fathers of the Church, though living in much more dangerous\nproximity to the ancient religions of the Gentiles, admitted freely\nthat a comparison of Christianity and other religions was useful. \"If\nthere is any agreement,\" Basilius remarked, \"between their (the\nGreeks') doctrines and our own, it may benefit us to know them: if\nnot, then to compare them and to learn how they differ, will help not\na little towards confirming that which is the better of the two.\"[4]\n\n[Footnote 4: Basilius, _De legendis Graec._ libris, c. v. [Greek: Ei men oun\nesti tis oikeiotes pros allelous tois logois, prourgou an hemin auton he\ngnosis genoito. ei de me, alla to ge parallela thentas katamathein to\ndiaphoron, ou mikron eis bebaiosis beltionos.]]\n\nBut this is not the only advantage of a comparative study of\nreligions. The Science of Religion will for the first time assign to\nChristianity its right place among the religions of the world; it will\nshow for the first time fully what was meant by the fulness of time;\nit will restore to the whole history of the world, in its unconscious\nprogress towards Christianity, its true and sacred character.\n\nNot many years ago great offence was given by an eminent writer who\nremarked that the time had come when the history of Christianity\nshould be treated in a truly historical spirit, in the same spirit in\nwhich we treat the history of other religions, such as Brahmanism,\nBuddhism, or Mohammedanism. And yet what can be truer? He must be a\nman of little faith, who would fear to subject his own religion to the\nsame critical tests to which the historian subjects all other\nreligions. We need not surely crave a tender or merciful treatment\nfor that faith which we hold to be the only true one. We should rather\nchallenge for it the severest tests and trials, as the sailor would\nfor the good ship to which he entrusts his own life, and the lives of\nthose who are most dear to him. In the Science of Religion, we can\ndecline no comparisons, nor claim any immunities for Christianity, as\nlittle as the missionary can, when wrestling with the subtle Brahman,\nor the fanatical Mussulman, or the plain speaking Zulu. And if we send\nout our missionaries to every part of the world to face every kind of\nreligion, to shrink from no contest, to be appalled by no objections,\nwe must not give way at home or within our own hearts to any\nmisgivings, that a comparative study of the religions of the world\ncould shake the firm foundations on which we must stand or fall.\n\nTo the missionary more particularly a comparative study of the\nreligions of mankind will be, I believe, of the greatest assistance.\nMissionaries are apt to look upon all other religions as something\ntotally distinct from their own, as formerly they used to describe the\nlanguages of barbarous nations as something more like the twittering\nof birds than the articulate speech of men. The Science of Language\nhas taught us that there is order and wisdom in all languages, and\nthat even the most degraded jargons contain the ruins of former\ngreatness and beauty. The Science of Religion, I hope, will produce a\nsimilar change in our views of barbarous forms of faith and worship;\nand missionaries, instead of looking only for points of difference,\nwill look out more anxiously for any common ground, any spark of the\ntrue light that may still be revived, any altar that may be dedicated\nafresh to the true God.\n\nAnd even to us at home, a wider view of the religious life of the\nworld may teach many a useful lesson. Immense as is the difference\nbetween our own and all other religions of the world--and few can know\nthat difference who have not honestly examined the foundations of\ntheir own as well as of other religions--the position which believers\nand unbelievers occupy with regard to their various forms of faith is\nvery much the same all over the world. The difficulties which trouble\nus, have troubled the hearts and minds of men as far back as we can\ntrace the beginnings of religious life. The great problems touching\nthe relation of the Finite to the Infinite, of the human mind as the\nrecipient, and of the Divine Spirit as the source of truth, are old\nproblems indeed; and while watching their appearance in different\ncountries, and their treatment under varying circumstances, we shall\nbe able, I believe, to profit ourselves, both by the errors which\nothers committed before us, and by the truth which they discovered. We\nshall know the rocks that threaten every religion in this changing and\nshifting world of ours, and having watched many a storm of religious\ncontroversy and many a shipwreck in distant seas, we shall face with\ngreater calmness and prudence the troubled waters at home.\n\nIf there is one thing which a comparative study of religions places in\nthe clearest light, it is the inevitable decay to which every religion\nis exposed. It may seem almost like a truism, that no religion can\ncontinue to be what it was during the lifetime of its founder and its\nfirst apostles. Yet it is but seldom borne in mind that without\nconstant reformation, i. e. without a constant return to its\nfountain-head, every religion, even the most perfect, nay the most\nperfect on account of its very perfection, more even than others,\nsuffers from its contact with the world, as the purest air suffers\nfrom the mere fact of its being breathed.\n\nWhenever we can trace back a religion to its first beginnings, we find\nit free from many of the blemishes that offend us in its later phases.\nThe founders of the ancient religions of the world, as far as we can\njudge, were minds of a high stamp, full of noble aspirations, yearning\nfor truth, devoted to the welfare of their neighbours, examples of\npurity and unselfishness. What they desired to found upon earth was\nbut seldom realised, and their sayings, if preserved in their original\nform, offer often a strange contrast to the practice of those who\nprofess to be their disciples. As soon as a religion is established,\nand more particularly when it has become the religion of a powerful\nstate, the foreign and worldly elements encroach more and more on the\noriginal foundation, and human interests mar the simplicity and purity\nof the plan which the founder had conceived in his own heart, and\nmatured in his communings with his God. Even those who lived with\nBuddha, misunderstood his words, and at the Great Council which had to\nsettle the Buddhist canon, Asoka, the Indian Constantine, had to\nremind the assembled priests that 'what had been said by Buddha, that\nalone was well said;' and that certain works ascribed to Buddha, as,\nfor instance, the instruction given to his son, Rahula, were\napocryphal, if not heretical.[5] With every century, Buddhism, when it\nwas accepted by nations, differing as widely as Mongols and Hindus,\nwhen its sacred writings were translated into languages as wide apart\nas Sanskrit and Chinese, assumed widely different aspects, till at\nlast the Buddhism of the Shamans in the steppes of Tatary is as\ndifferent from the teaching of the original _S_ama_n_a, as the\nChristianity of the leader of the Chinese rebels is from the teaching\nof Christ. If missionaries could show to the Brahmans, the Buddhists,\nthe Zoroastrians, nay, even to the Mohammedans, how much their present\nfaith differs from the faith of their forefathers and founders, if\nthey could place into their hands and read with them in a kindly\nspirit the original documents in which these various religions\nprofess to be founded, and enable them to distinguish between the\ndoctrines of their own sacred books and the additions of later ages,\nan important advantage would be gained, and the choice between Christ\nand other Masters would be rendered far more easy to many a\ntruth-seeking soul. But for that purpose it is necessary that we too\nshould see the beam in our own eyes, and learn to distinguish between\nthe Christianity of the nineteenth century and the religion of Christ.\nIf we find that the Christianity of the nineteenth century does not\nwin as many hearts in India and China as it ought, let us remember\nthat it was the Christianity of the first century in all its dogmatic\nsimplicity, but with its overpowering love of God and man, that\nconquered the world and superseded religions and philosophies, more\ndifficult to conquer than the religious and philosophical systems of\nHindus and Buddhists. If we can teach something to the Brahmans in\nreading with them their sacred hymns, they too can teach us something\nwhen reading with us the Gospel of Christ. Never shall I forget the\ndeep despondency of a Hindu convert, a real martyr to his faith, who\nhad pictured to himself from the pages of the New Testament what a\nChristian country must be, and who when he came to Europe found\neverything so different from what he had imagined in his lonely\nmeditations at Benares! It was the Bible only that saved him from\nreturning to his old religion, and helped him to discern beneath\ntheological futilities, accumulated during nearly two thousand years,\nbeneath pharisaical hypocrisy, infidelity, and want of charity, the\nburied, but still living seed, committed to the earth by Christ and\nhis Apostles. How can a missionary in such circumstances meet the\nsurprise and questions of his pupils, unless he may point to that\nseed, and tell them what Christianity was meant to be; unless he may\nshow that like all other religions, Christianity, too, has had its\nhistory; that the Christianity of the nineteenth century is not the\nChristianity of the Middle Ages, that the Christianity of the Middle\nAges was not that of the early Councils, that the Christianity of the\nearly Councils was not that of the Apostles, and 'that what has been\nsaid by Christ that alone was well said?'\n\n[Footnote 5: See Burnouf, 'Lotus de la bonne Loi,' Appendice, No. x. Sec.\n4.]\n\nThe advantages, however, which missionaries and other defenders of the\nfaith will gain from a comparative study of religions, though\nimportant hereafter, are not at present the chief object of these\nresearches. In order to maintain their scientific character, they must\nbe independent of all extraneous considerations: they must aim at\ntruth, trusting that even unpalatable truths, like unpalatable\nmedicine, will reinvigorate the system into which they enter. To\nthose, no doubt, who value the tenets of their religion as the miser\nvalues his pearls and precious stones, thinking their value lessened\nif pearls and stones of the same kind are found in other parts of the\nworld, the Science of Religion will bring many a rude shock; but to\nthe true believer, truth, wherever it appears, is welcome, nor will\nany doctrine seem to be less true or less precious, because it was\nseen, not only by Moses or Christ, but likewise by Buddha or Lao-tse.\nNor should it be forgotten that while a comparison of ancient\nreligions will certainly show that some of the most vital articles of\nfaith are the common property of the whole of mankind, at least of all\nwho seek the Lord, if haply they might feel after him, and find him,\nthe same comparison alone can possibly teach us what is peculiar to\nChristianity, and what has secured to it that pre-eminent position\nwhich now it holds in spite of all obloquy. The gain will be greater\nthan the loss, if loss there be, which I, at least, shall never admit.\n\nThere is a strong feeling, I know, in the minds of all people against\nany attempt to treat their own religion as a member of a class, and,\nin one sense, that feeling is perfectly justified. To each individual,\nhis own religion, if he really believes in it, is something quite\ninseparable from himself, something unique, that cannot be compared to\nanything else, or replaced by anything else. Our own religion is, in\nthat respect, something like our own language. In its form it may be\nlike other languages; in its essence and in its relation to ourselves,\nit stands alone and admits of no peer or rival.\n\nBut in the history of the world, our religion, like our own language,\nis but one out of many; and in order to understand fully the position\nof Christianity in the history of the world, and its true place among\nthe religions of mankind, we must compare it, not with Judaeism only,\nbut with the religious aspirations of the whole world, with all, in\nfact, that Christianity came either to destroy or to fulfil. From this\npoint of view Christianity forms part, no doubt, of what people call\nprofane history, but by that very fact, profane history ceases to be\nprofane, and regains throughout that sacred character of which it had\nbeen deprived by a false distinction. The ancient Fathers of the\nChurch spoke on these subjects with far greater freedom than we\nventure to use in these days. Justin Martyr, in his 'Apology' (A.D\n139), has this memorable passage ('Apol.' i. 46): 'One article of our\nfaith then is, that Christ is the first begotten of God, and we have\nalready proved Him to be the very Logos (or universal Reason), of\nwhich mankind are all partakers; and therefore those who live\naccording to the Logos are Christians, notwithstanding they may pass\nwith you for Atheists; such among the Greeks were Sokrates and\nHerakleitos and the like; and such among the Barbarians were Abraham,\nand Ananias, and Azarias, and Misael, and Elias, and many others,\nwhose actions, nay whose very names, I know, would be tedious to\nrelate, and therefore shall pass them over. So, on the other side,\nthose who have lived in former times in defiance of the Logos or\nReason, were evil, and enemies to Christ and murderers of such as\nlived according to the Logos; but _they who have made or make the\nLogos or Reason the rule of their actions are Christians_, and men\nwithout fear and trembling.'[5_1]\n\n[Footnote 5_1:\n[Greek: Ton christon prothotokon tou Theou einai edidhachthemen, kai\nproemenhysamen Lhogon onta, ou pan ghenos anthrhopon methesche kai oi\nmeta Lhogou bihosantes christianohi eisi, kan atheoi enomhisthesan,\noion en Ellesi men Sokrhates kai Erhakleitos kai oi homoioi autois, en\nbarbarois de Abraam kai Ananias kai Asarias kai Misael kai Elhias kai\nalloi polloi, on tas praxets e ta onomata katalegein makron einai\nepistamenoi, tanyn paraitoymetha. oste kai oi progenomenoi aneu Ldgou\nbihosantes, acrestoi ka.]]\n\n'God,' says Clement,[6] 'is the cause of all that is good: only of\nsome good gifts He is the primary cause, as of the Old and New\nTestaments, of others the secondary, as of (Greek) philosophy. But\neven philosophy may have been given primarily by Him to the Greeks,\nbefore the Lord had called the Greeks also. For that philosophy, like\na teacher, has guided the Greeks also, as the Law did the Hebrews,\ntowards Christ. Philosophy, therefore, prepares and opens the way to\nthose who are made perfect by Christ.'\n\n[Footnote 6: Clem. Alex. Strom, lib. I, cap. v, Sec. 28.\n[Greek: Panton\nmen gar aitios ton kalon d theos, alla ton men kata proegoumenon, hos\ntes te diathekes tes palaias kai tes neas, ton de kat epakolouthema, hos\ntes philosophias tacha de kai proegoumenos tois Ellesin edothe tote\nprin e ton kurion kalesai kai tous Elleuas. Epaidagogei gar kai aute\nto Ellenikon hos o nomos tous Ebraious eis Christon. proparaskeuixei\ntoinun e philosophia proodopoiousa ton hupo Christou teleioumenon.]]\n\nAnd again: 'It is clear that the same God to whom we owe the Old and\nNew Testaments, gave also to the Greeks their Greek philosophy by\nwhich the Almighty is glorified among the Greeks.'[7]\n\n[Footnote 7: Strom, lib. VI, cap. V, Sec. 42.\n[Greek: Eros de kai oti o\nautos theos amphoin tain diathekain choregos, o kai tes Ellenikes\nphilosophias doter tois Ellesin, di es o pantokrator par Ellesi\ndoxazetai, parestesen, delon de kanthede.]]\n\nAnd Clement was by no means the only one who spoke thus freely and\nfearlessly, though, no doubt, his knowledge of Greek philosophy\nqualified him better than many of his contemporaries to speak with\nauthority on such subjects.\n\nSt. Augustine writes: 'If the Gentiles also had possibly something\ndivine and true in their doctrines, our Saints did not find fault with\nit, although for their superstition, idolatry, and pride, and other\nevil habits, they had to be detested, and, unless they improved, to be\npunished by divine judgment. For the apostle Paul, when he said\nsomething about God among the Athenians, quoted the testimony of some\nof the Greeks who had said something of the same kind: and this, if\nthey came to Christ, would be acknowledged in them, and not blamed.\nSaint Cyprian, too, uses such witnesses against the Gentiles. For when\nhe speaks of the Magians, he says that the chief among them, Hostanes,\nmaintains that the true God is invisible, and that true angels sit at\nHis throne; and that Plato agrees with this, and believes in One God,\nconsidering the others to be angels or demons; and that Hermes\nTrismegistus also speaks of One God, and confesses that He is\nincomprehensible.' (Augustinus, 'De Baptismo contra Donatistas,' lib.\nVI, cap. xliv.)\n\nEvery religion, even the most imperfect and degraded, has something\nthat ought to be sacred to us, for there is in all religions a secret\nyearning after the true, though unknown, God. Whether we see the Papua\nsquatting in dumb meditation before his fetish, or whether we listen\nto Firdusi exclaiming: 'The heighth and the depth of the whole world\nhave their centre in Thee, O my God! I do not know Thee what Thou art:\nbut I know that Thou art what Thou alone canst be,'--we ought to feel\nthat the place whereon we stand is holy ground. There are\nphilosophers, no doubt, to whom both Christianity and all other\nreligions are exploded errors, things belonging to the past, and to be\nreplaced by more positive knowledge. To them the study of the\nreligions of the world could only have a pathological interest, and\ntheir hearts could never warm at the sparks of truth that light up,\nlike stars, the dark yet glorious night of the ancient world. They\ntell us that the world has passed through the phases of religious and\nmetaphysical errors, in order to arrive at the safe haven of positive\nknowledge of facts. But if they would but study positive facts, if\nthey would but read, patiently and thoughtfully, the history of the\nworld, as it is, not as it might have been: they would see that, as in\ngeology, so in the history of human thought, theoretic uniformity does\nnot exist, and that the past is never altogether lost. The oldest\nformations of thought crop out everywhere, and if we dig but deep\nenough, we shall find that even the sandy desert in which we are asked\nto live, rests everywhere on the firm foundation of that primeval, yet\nindestructible granite of the human soul,--religious faith.\n\nThere are other philosophers again who would fain narrow the limits of\nthe Divine government of the world to the history of the Jewish and of\nthe Christian nations, who would grudge the very name of religion to\nthe ancient creeds of the world, and to whom the name of natural\nreligion has almost become a term of reproach. To them, too, I should\nlike to say that if they would but study positive facts, if they would\nbut read their own Bible, they would find that the greatness of Divine\nLove cannot be measured by human standards, and that God has never\nforsaken a single human soul that has not first forsaken Him. 'He hath\nmade of one blood all nations of men, for to dwell on all the face of\nthe earth; and hath determined the times before appointed, and the\nbounds of their habitation: that they should seek the Lord, if haply\nthey might feel after him, and find him, though he be not far from\nevery one of us,' If they would but dig deep enough, they too would\nfind that what they contemptuously call natural religion, is in\nreality the greatest gift that God has bestowed on the children of\nman, and that without it, revealed religion itself would have no firm\nfoundation, no living roots in the heart of man.\n\nIf by the essays here collected I should succeed in attracting more\ngeneral attention towards an independent, yet reverent study of the\nancient religions of the world, and in dispelling some of the\nprejudices with which so many have regarded the yearnings after truth\nembodied in the sacred writings of the Brahmans, the Zoroastrians, and\nthe Buddhists, in the mythology of the Greeks and Romans, nay, even in\nthe wild traditions and degraded customs of Polynesian savages, I\nshall consider myself amply rewarded for the labour which they have\ncost me. That they are not free from errors, in spite of a careful\nrevision to which they have been submitted before I published them in\nthis collection, I am fully aware, and I shall be grateful to any one\nwho will point them out, little concerned whether it is done in a\nseemly or unseemly manner, as long as some new truth is elicited, or\nsome old error effectually exploded. Though I have thought it right in\npreparing these essays for publication, to alter what I could no\nlonger defend as true, and also, though rarely, to add some new facts\nthat seemed essential for the purpose of establishing what I wished to\nprove, yet in the main they have been left as they were originally\npublished. I have added to each the dates when they were written,\nthese dates ranging over the last fifteen years, and I must beg my\nreaders to bear these dates in mind when judging both of the form and\nthe matter of these contributions towards a better knowledge of the\ncreeds and prayers, the legends and customs of the ancient world.\n\nM. M.\n\nPARKS END, OXFORD:\n\n_October_, 1867.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS OF FIRST VOLUME.\n\n\n\nI.      LECTURE ON THE VEDAS OR THE SACRED BOOKS OF THE BRAHMANS,\n          DELIVERED AT LEEDS, 1865\n\nII.     CHRIST AND OTHER MASTERS, 1858\n\nIII.    THE VEDA AND ZEND-AVESTA, 1853\n\nIV.     THE AITAREYA-BRAHMANA, 1864\n\nV.      ON THE STUDY OF THE ZEND-AVESTA IN INDIA, 1862\n\nVI.     PROGRESS OF ZEND SCHOLARSHIP, 1865\n\nVII.    GENESIS AND THE ZEND-AVESTA, 1864\n\nVIII.   THE MODERN PARSIS, 1862\n\nIX.     BUDDHISM, 1862\n\nX.      BUDDHIST PILGRIMS, 1857\n\nXI.     THE MEANING OF NIRVANA, 1857\n\nXII.    CHINESE TRANSLATIONS OF SANSKRIT TEXTS, 1861\n\nXIII.   THE WORKS OF CONFUCIUS, 1861\n\nXIV.    POPOL VUH, 1862\n\nXV.     SEMITIC MONOTHEISM, 1860\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\n\n\nI.\n\nLECTURE ON THE VEDAS\n\nOR THE\n\nSACRED BOOKS OF THE BRAHMANS,[8]\n\nDELIVERED AT THE\n\nPHILOSOPHICAL INSTITUTION, LEEDS, MARCH, 1865.\n\n\nI have brought with me one volume of my edition of the Veda, and I\nshould not wonder if it were the first copy of the work which has ever\nreached this busy town of Leeds. Nay, I confess I have some misgivings\nwhether I have not undertaken a hopeless task, and I begin to doubt\nwhether I shall succeed in explaining to you the interest which I feel\nfor this ancient collection of sacred hymns, an interest which has\nnever failed me while devoting to the publication of this voluminous\nwork the best twenty years of my life. Many times have I been asked,\nBut what is the Veda? Why should it be published? What are we likely\nto learn from a book composed nearly four thousand years ago, and\nintended from the beginning for an uncultivated race of mere heathens\nand savages,--a book which the natives of India have never published\nthemselves, although, to the present day, they profess to regard it as\nthe highest authority for their religion, morals, and philosophy? Are\nwe, the people of England or of Europe, in the nineteenth century,\nlikely to gain any new light on religious, moral, or philosophical\nquestions from the old songs of the Brahmans? And is it so very\ncertain that the whole book is not a modern forgery, without any\nsubstantial claims to that high antiquity which is ascribed to it by\nthe Hindus, so that all the labour bestowed upon it would not only be\nlabour lost, but throw discredit on our powers of discrimination, and\nmake us a laughing-stock among the shrewd natives of India? These and\nsimilar questions I have had to answer many times when asked by\nothers, and some of them when asked by myself, before embarking on so\nhazardous an undertaking as the publication of the Rig-veda and its\nancient commentary. And, I believe, I am not mistaken in supposing\nthat many of those who to-night have honoured me with their presence\nmay have entertained similar doubts and misgivings when invited to\nlisten to a Lecture 'On the Vedas or the Sacred Books of the\nBrahmans.'\n\n[Footnote 8: Some of the points touched upon in this Lecture have been\nmore fully treated in my 'History of Ancient Sanskrit Literature.' As\nthe second edition of this work has been out of print for several\nyears, I have here quoted a few passages from it in full.]\n\nI shall endeavour, therefore, as far as this is possible within the\nlimits of one Lecture, to answer some of these questions, and to\nremove some of these doubts, by explaining to you, first, what the\nVeda really is, and, secondly, what importance it possesses, not only\nto the people of India, but to ourselves in Europe,--and here again,\nnot only to the student of Oriental languages, but to every student of\nhistory, religion, or philosophy; to every man who has once felt the\ncharm of tracing that mighty stream of human thought on which we\nourselves are floating onward, back to its distant mountain-sources;\nto every one who has a heart for whatever has once filled the hearts\nof millions of human beings with their noblest hopes, and fears, and\naspirations;--to every student of mankind in the fullest sense of that\nfull and weighty word. Whoever claims that noble title must not\nforget, whether he examines the highest achievements of mankind in our\nown age, or the miserable failures of former ages, what man is, and in\nwhose image and after whose likeness man was made. Whether listening\nto the shrieks of the Shaman sorcerers of Tatary, or to the odes of\nPindar, or to the sacred songs of Paul Gerhard: whether looking at the\npagodas of China, or the Parthenon of Athens, or the cathedral of\nCologne: whether reading the sacred books of the Buddhists, of the\nJews, or of those who worship God in spirit and in truth, we ought to\nbe able to say, like the Emperor Maximilian, 'Homo sum, humani nihil a\nme alienum puto,' or, translating his words somewhat freely, 'I am a\nman, nothing pertaining to man I deem foreign to myself.' Yes, we must\nlearn to read in the history of the whole human race something of our\nown history; and as in looking back on the story of our own life, we\nall dwell with a peculiar delight on the earliest chapters of our\nchildhood, and try to find there the key to many of the riddles of our\nlater life, it is but natural that the historian, too, should ponder\nwith most intense interest over the few relics that have been\npreserved to him of the childhood of the human race. These relics are\nfew indeed, and therefore very precious, and this I may venture to\nsay, at the outset and without fear of contradiction, that there\nexists no literary relic that carries us back to a more primitive, or,\nif you like, more child-like state in the history of man[9] than the\nVeda. As the language of the Veda, the Sanskrit, is the most ancient\ntype of the English of the present day, (Sanskrit and English are but\nvarieties of one and the same language,) so its thoughts and feelings\ncontain in reality the first roots and germs of that intellectual\ngrowth which by an unbroken chain connects our own generation with the\nancestors of the Aryan race,--with those very people who at the rising\nand setting of the sun listened with trembling hearts to the songs of\nthe Veda, that told them of bright powers above, and of a life to come\nafter the sun of their own lives had set in the clouds of the evening.\nThose men were the true ancestors of our race; and the Veda is the\noldest book we have in which to study the first beginnings of our\nlanguage, and of all that is embodied in language. We are by nature\nAryan, Indo-European, not Semitic: our spiritual kith and kin are to\nbe found in India, Persia, Greece, Italy, Germany; not in Mesopotamia,\nEgypt, or Palestine. This is a fact that ought to be clearly\nperceived, and constantly kept in view, in order to understand the\nimportance which the Veda has for us, after the lapse of more than\nthree thousand years, and after ever so many changes in our language,\nthought, and religion.\n\n[Footnote 9: 'In the sciences of law and society, old means not old in\nchronology, but in structure: that is most archaic which lies nearest\nto the beginning of human progress considered as a development, and\nthat is most modern which is farthest removed from that\nbeginning.'--J. F. McLennan, 'Primitive Marriage,' p. 8.]\n\nWhatever the intrinsic value of the Veda, if it simply contained the\nnames of kings, the description of battles, the dates of famines, it\nwould still be, by its age alone, the most venerable of books. Do we\never find much beyond such matters in Egyptian hieroglyphics, or in\nCuneiform inscriptions? In fact, what does the ancient history of the\nworld before Cyrus, before 500 B.C., consist of, but meagre lists of\nEgyptian, Babylonian, Assyrian dynasties? What do the tablets of\nKarnak, the palaces of Nineveh, and the cylinders of Babylon tell us\nabout the thoughts of men? All is dead and barren, nowhere a sigh,\nnowhere a jest, nowhere a glimpse of humanity. There has been but one\noasis in that vast desert of ancient Asiatic history, the history of\nthe Jews. Another such oasis is the Veda. Here, too, we come to a\nstratum of ancient thought, of ancient feelings, hopes, joys, and\nfears,--of ancient religion. There is perhaps too little of kings and\nbattles in the Veda, and scarcely anything of the chronological\nframework of history. But poets surely are better than kings, hymns\nand prayers are more worth listening to than the agonies of butchered\narmies, and guesses at truth more valuable than unmeaning titles of\nEgyptian or Babylonian despots. It will be difficult to settle whether\nthe Veda is 'the oldest of books,' and whether some of the portions of\nthe Old Testament may not be traced back to the same or even an\nearlier date than the oldest hymns of the Veda. But, in the Aryan\nworld, the Veda is certainly the oldest book, and its preservation\namounts almost to a marvel.\n\nIt is nearly twenty years ago that my attention was first drawn to\nthe Veda, while attending, in the years 1846 and 1847, the lectures of\nEugene Burnouf at the College de France. I was then looking out, like\nmost young men at that time of life, for some great work, and without\nweighing long the difficulties which had hitherto prevented the\npublication of the Veda, I determined to devote all my time to the\ncollection of the materials necessary for such an undertaking. I had\nread the principal works of the later Sanskrit literature, but had\nfound little there that seemed to be more than curious. But to publish\nthe Veda, a work that had never before been published in India or in\nEurope, that occupied in the history of Sanskrit literature the same\nposition which the Old Testament occupies in the history of the Jews,\nthe New Testament in the history of modern Europe, the Koran in the\nhistory of Mohammedanism,--a work which fills a gap in the history of\nthe human mind, and promises to bring us nearer than any other work to\nthe first beginnings of Aryan language and Aryan thought,--this seemed\nto me an undertaking not altogether unworthy a man's life. What added\nto the charm of it was that it had once before been undertaken by\nFrederick Rosen, a young German scholar, who died in England before he\nhad finished the first book, and that after his death no one seemed\nwilling to carry on his work. What I had to do, first of all, was to\ncopy not only the text, but the commentary of the Rig-veda, a work\nwhich when finished will fill six of these large volumes. The author\nor rather the compiler of this commentary, Saya_n_a A_k_arya, lived\nabout 1400 after Christ, that is to say, about as many centuries\nafter, as the poets of the Veda lived before, the beginning of our\nera. Yet through the 3000 years which separate the original poetry of\nthe Veda from the latest commentary, there runs an almost continuous\nstream of tradition, and it is from it, rather than from his own\nbrain, that Saya_n_a draws his explanations of the sacred texts.\nNumerous MSS., more or less complete, more or less inaccurate, of\nSaya_n_a's classical work, existed in the then Royal Library at Paris,\nin the Library of the East-India House, then in Leadenhall Street, and\nin the Bodleian Library at Oxford. But to copy and collate these MSS.\nwas by no means all. A number of other works were constantly quoted in\nSaya_n_a's commentary, and these quotations had all to be verified. It\nwas necessary first to copy these works, and to make indexes to all of\nthem, in order to be able to find any passage that might be referred\nto in the larger commentary. Many of these works have since been\npublished in Germany and France, but they were not to be procured\ntwenty years ago. The work, of course, proceeded but slowly, and many\ntimes I doubted whether I should be able to carry it through. Lastly\ncame the difficulty,--and by no means the smallest,--who was to\npublish a work that would occupy about six thousand pages in quarto,\nall in Sanskrit, and of which probably not a hundred copies would ever\nbe sold. Well, I came to England in order to collect more materials at\nthe East-India House and at the Bodleian Library, and thanks to the\nexertions of my generous friend Baron Bunsen, and of the late\nProfessor Wilson, the Board of Directors of the East-India Company\ndecided to defray the expenses of a work which, as they stated in\ntheir letter, 'is in a peculiar manner deserving of the patronage of\nthe East-India Company, connected as it is with the early religion,\nhistory, and language of the great body of their Indian subjects.' It\nthus became necessary for me to take up my abode in England, which has\nsince become my second home. The first volume was published in 1849,\nthe second in 1853, the third in 1856, the fourth in 1862. The\nmaterials for the remaining volumes are ready, so that, if I can but\nmake leisure, there is little doubt that before long the whole work\nwill be complete.\n\nNow, first, as to the name. Veda means originally knowing or\nknowledge, and this name is given by the Brahmans not to one work, but\nto the whole body of their most ancient sacred literature. Veda is the\nsame word which appears in the Greek [Greek: oida], I know, and in the\nEnglish wise, wisdom, to wit.[10] The name of Veda is commonly given\nto four collections of hymns, which are respectively known by the\nnames of Rig-veda, Ya_g_ur-veda, Sama-veda, and Atharva-veda; but for\nour own purposes, namely for tracing the earliest growth of religious\nideas in India, the only important, the only real Veda, is the\nRig-veda.\n\n[Footnote 10:\n\nSanskrit      Greek           Gothic     Anglo-Saxon     German\n\nveda          [Greek: oida]     vait       wat           ich weiss\nvettha        [Greek: oistha]   vaist      wast          du weisst\nveda          [Greek: oide]     vait       wat           er weiss\nvidva         --                vitu       --            --\nvidathu_h_    [Greek: iston]    vituts     --            --\nvidatu_h_     [Greek: iston]    --         --            --\nvidma         [Greek: ismen]    vitum      witon         wir wissen\nvida          [Greek: iste]     vituth     wite          ihr wisset\nvidu_h_       [Greek: isasi]    vitun      witan         sie wissen.\n]\n\nThe other so-called Vedas, which deserve the name of Veda no more than\nthe Talmud deserves the name of Bible, contain chiefly extracts from\nthe Rig-veda, together with sacrificial formulas, charms, and\nincantations, many of them, no doubt, extremely curious, but never\nlikely to interest any one except the Sanskrit scholar by profession.\n\nThe Ya_g_ur-veda and Sama-veda may be described as prayer-books,\narranged according to the order of certain sacrifices, and intended to\nbe used by certain classes of priests.\n\nFour classes of priests were required in India at the most solemn\nsacrifices:\n\n     1. The officiating priests, manual labourers, and acolytes;\n     who have chiefly to prepare the sacrificial ground, to dress\n     the altar, slay the victims, and pour out the libations.\n\n     2. The choristers, who chant the sacred hymns.\n\n     3. The reciters or readers, who repeat certain hymns.\n\n     4. The overseers or bishops, who watch and superintend the\n     proceedings of the other priests, and ought to be familiar\n     with all the Vedas.\n\nThe formulas and verses to be muttered by the first class are\ncontained in the Ya_g_ur-veda-sanhita. The hymns to be sung by the\nsecond class are in the Sama-veda-sanhita.\n\nThe Atharva-veda is said to be intended for the Brahman or overseer,\nwho is to watch the proceedings of the sacrifice, and to remedy any\nmistake that may occur.[11]\n\n[Footnote 11: 'History of Ancient Sanskrit Literature,' p. 449.]\n\nFortunately, the hymns to be recited by the third class were not\narranged in a sacrificial prayer-book, but were preserved in an old\ncollection of hymns, containing all that had been saved of ancient,\nsacred, and popular poetry, more like the Psalms than like a ritual; a\ncollection made for its own sake, and not for the sake of any\nsacrificial performances.\n\nI shall, therefore, confine my remarks to the Rig-veda, which in the\neyes of the historical student is the Veda _par excellence_. Now\nRig-veda means the Veda of hymns of praise, for _R_ich, which before\nthe initial soft letter of Veda is changed to _R_ig, is derived from a\nroot which in Sanskrit means to celebrate.\n\nIn the Rig-veda we must distinguish again between the original collection\nof the hymns or Mantras, called the Sanhita or the collection, being\nentirely metrical and poetical, and a number of prose works, called\nBrahma_n_as and Sutras, written in prose, and giving information on the\nproper use of the hymns at sacrifices, on their sacred meaning, on their\nsupposed authors, and similar topics. These works, too, go by the name of\nRig-veda: but though very curious in themselves, they are evidently of a\nmuch later period, and of little help to us in tracing the beginnings of\nreligious life in India. For that purpose we must depend entirely on the\nhymns, such as we find them in the Sanhita or the collection of the\nRig-veda.\n\nNow this collection consists of ten books, and contains altogether\n1028 hymns. As early as about 600 B.C. we find that in the theological\nschools of India every verse, every word, every syllable of the Veda\nhad been carefully counted. The number of verses as computed in\ntreatises of that date, varies from 10,402 to 10,622; that of the\nwords is 153,826, that of the syllables 432,000.[12] With these\nnumbers, and with the description given in these early treatises of\neach hymn, of its metre, its deity, its number of verses, our modern\nMSS. of the Veda correspond as closely as could be expected.\n\n[Footnote 12: 'History of Ancient Sanskrit Literature,' second\nedition, p. 219 seq.]\n\nI say, our modern MSS., for all our MSS. are modern, and very modern.\nFew Sanskrit MSS. are more than four or five hundred years old, the\nfact being that in the damp climate of India no paper will last for\nmore than a few centuries. How then, you will naturally ask, can it be\nproved that the original hymns were composed between 1200 and 1500\nbefore the Christian era, if our MSS. only carry us back to about the\nsame date after the Christian era? It is not very easy to bridge over\nthis gulf of nearly three thousand years, but all I can say is that,\nafter carefully examining every possible objection that can be made\nagainst the date of the Vedic hymns, their claim to that high\nantiquity which is ascribed to them, has not, as far as I can judge,\nbeen shaken. I shall try to explain on what kind of evidence these\nclaims rest.\n\nYou know that we possess no MS. of the Old Testament in Hebrew older\nthan about the tenth century after the Christian era; yet the\nSeptuagint translation by itself would be sufficient to prove that the\nOld Testament, such as we now read it, existed in MS. previous, at\nleast, to the third century before our era. By a similar train of\nargument, the works to which I referred before, in which we find every\nhymn, every verse, every word and syllable of the Veda accurately\ncounted by native scholars about five or six hundred years before\nChrist, guarantee the existence of the Veda, such as we now read it,\nas far back at least as five or six hundred years before Christ. Now\nin the works of that period, the Veda is already considered, not only\nas an ancient, but as a sacred book; and, more than this, its language\nhad ceased to be generally intelligible. The language of India had\nchanged since the Veda was composed, and learned commentaries were\nnecessary in order to explain to the people, then living, the true\npurport, nay, the proper pronunciation, of their sacred hymns. But\nmore than this. In certain exegetical compositions, which are\ngenerally comprised under the name of Sutras, and which are\ncontemporary with, or even anterior to, the treatises on the\ntheological statistics just mentioned, not only are the ancient hymns\nrepresented as invested with sacred authority, but that other class of\nwritings, the Brahma_n_as, standing half-way between the hymns and the\nSutras, have likewise been raised to the dignity of a revealed\nliterature. These Brahma_n_as, you will remember, are prose treatises,\nwritten in illustration of the ancient sacrifices and of the hymns\nemployed at them. Such treatises would only spring up when some kind\nof explanation began to be wanted both for the ceremonial and for the\nhymns to be recited at certain sacrifices, and we find, in\nconsequence, that in many cases the authors of the Brahma_n_as had\nalready lost the power of understanding the text of the ancient hymns\nin its natural and grammatical meaning, and that they suggested the\nmost absurd explanations of the various sacrificial acts, most of\nwhich, we may charitably suppose, had originally some rational\npurpose. Thus it becomes evident that the period during which the\nhymns were composed must have been separated by some centuries, at\nleast, from the period that gave birth to the Brahma_n_as, in order to\nallow time for the hymns growing unintelligible and becoming invested\nwith a sacred character. Secondly, the period during which the\nBrahma_n_as were composed must be separated by some centuries from the\nauthors of the Sutras, in order to allow time for further changes in\nthe language, and more particularly for the growth of a new theology,\nwhich ascribed to the Brahma_n_as the same exceptional and revealed\ncharacter which the Brahma_n_as themselves ascribed to the hymns. So\nthat we want previously to 600 B.C., when every syllable of the Veda\nwas counted, at least two strata of intellectual and literary growth,\nof two or three centuries each; and are thus brought to 1100 or 1200\nB.C. as the earliest time when we may suppose the collection of the\nVedic hymns to have been finished. This collection of hymns again\ncontains, by its own showing, ancient and modern hymns, the hymns of\nthe sons together with the hymns of their fathers and earlier\nancestors; so that we cannot well assign a date more recent than 1200\nto 1500 before our era, for the original composition of those simple\nhymns which up to the present day are regarded by the Brahmans with\nthe same feelings with which a Mohammedan regards the Koran, a Jew the\nOld Testament, a Christian his Gospel.\n\nThat the Veda is not quite a modern forgery can be proved, however, by more\ntangible evidence. Hiouen-thsang, a Buddhist pilgrim, who travelled from\nChina to India in the years 629-645, and who, in his diary translated from\nChinese into French by M. Stanislas Julien, gives the names of the four\nVedas, mentions some grammatical forms peculiar to the Vedic Sanskrit, and\nstates that at his time young Brahmans spent all their time, from the\nseventh to the thirtieth year of their age, in learning these sacred texts.\nAt the time when Hiouen-thsang was travelling in India, Buddhism was\nclearly on the decline. But Buddhism was originally a reaction against\nBrahmanism, and chiefly against the exclusive privileges which the Brahmans\nclaimed, and which from the beginning were represented by them as based on\ntheir revealed writings, the Vedas, and hence beyond the reach of human\nattacks. Buddhism, whatever the date of its founder, became the state\nreligion of India under A_s_oka, the Constantine of India, in the middle of\nthe third century B.C. This A_s_oka was the third king of a new dynasty\nfounded by _K_andragupta, the well-known contemporary of Alexander and\nSeleucus, about 315 B.C. The preceding dynasty was that of the Nandas, and\nit is under this dynasty that the traditions of the Brahmans place a number\nof distinguished scholars whose treatises on the Veda we still possess,\nsuch as _S_aunaka, Katyayana, A_s_valayana, and others. Their works, and\nothers written with a similar object and in the same style, carry us back\nto about 600 B.C. This period of literature, which is called the Sutra\nperiod, was preceded, as we saw, by another class of writings, the\nBrahma_n_as, composed in a very prolix and tedious style, and containing\nlengthy lucubrations on the sacrifices and on the duties of the different\nclasses of priests. Each of the three or four Vedas, or each of the three\nor four classes of priests, has its own Brahma_n_as and its own Sutras;\nand as the Brahma_n_as are presupposed by the Sutras, while no Sutra is\never quoted by the Brahma_n_as, it is clear that the period of the\nBrahma_n_a literature must have preceded the period of the Sutra\nliterature. There are, however, old and new Brahma_n_as, and there are in\nthe Brahma_n_as themselves long lists of teachers who handed down old\nBrahma_n_as or composed new ones, so that it seems impossible to\naccommodate the whole of that literature in less than two centuries, from\nabout 800 to 600 B.C. Before, however, a single Brahma_n_a could have been\ncomposed, it was not only necessary that there should have been one\ncollection of ancient hymns, like that contained in the ten books of the\nRig-veda, but the three or four classes of priests must have been\nestablished, the officiating priests and the choristers must have had their\nspecial prayer-books, nay, these prayer-books must have undergone certain\nchanges, because the Brahma_n_as presuppose different texts, called sakhas,\nof each of these prayer-books, which are called the Ya_g_ur-veda-sanhita,\nthe Sama-veda-sanhita, and the Atharva-veda-sanhita. The work of collecting\nthe prayers for the different classes of priests, and of adding new hymns\nand formulas for purely sacrificial purposes, belonged probably to the\ntenth century B.C., and three generations more would, at least, be required\nto account for the various readings adopted in the prayer-books by\ndifferent sects, and invested with a kind of sacred authority, long before\nthe composition of even the earliest among the Brahma_n_as. If, therefore,\nthe years from about 1000 to 800 B.C. are assigned to this collecting age,\nthe time before 1000 B.C. must be set apart for the free and natural\ngrowth of what was then national and religious, but not yet sacred and\nsacrificial poetry. How far back this period extends it is impossible to\ntell; it is enough if the hymns of the Rig-veda can be traced to a period\nanterior to 1000 B.C.\n\nMuch in the chronological arrangement of the three periods of Vedic\nliterature that are supposed to have followed the period of the\noriginal growth of the hymns, must of necessity be hypothetical, and\nhas been put forward rather to invite than to silence criticism. In\norder to discover truth, we must be truthful ourselves, and must\nwelcome those who point out our errors as heartily as those who\napprove and confirm our discoveries. What seems, however, to speak\nstrongly in favour of the historical character of the three periods of\nVedic literature is the uniformity of style which marks the\nproductions of each. In modern literature we find, at one and the same\ntime, different styles of prose and poetry cultivated by one and the\nsame author. A Goethe writes tragedy, comedy, satire, lyrical poetry,\nand scientific prose; but we find nothing like this in primitive\nliterature. The individual is there much less prominent, and the\npoet's character disappears in the general character of the layer of\nliterature to which he belongs. It is the discovery of such large\nlayers of literature following each other in regular succession which\ninspires the critical historian with confidence in the truly\nhistorical character of the successive literary productions of ancient\nIndia. As in Greece there is an epic age of literature, where we\nshould look in vain for prose or dramatic poetry; as in that country\nwe never meet with real elegiac poetry before the end of the eighth\ncentury, nor with iambics before the same date; as even in more\nmodern times rhymed heroic poetry appears in England with the Norman\nconquest, and in Germany the Minnesaenger rise and set with the Swabian\ndynasty--so, only in a much more decided manner, we see in the ancient\nand spontaneous literature of India, an age of poets followed by an\nage of collectors and imitators, that age to be succeeded by an age of\ntheological prose writers, and this last by an age of writers of\nscientific manuals. New wants produced new supplies, and nothing\nsprang up or was allowed to live, in prose or poetry, except what was\nreally wanted. If the works of poets, collectors, imitators,\ntheologians, and teachers were all mixed up together--if the\nBrahma_n_as quoted the Sutras, and the hymns alluded to the\nBrahma_n_as--an historical restoration of the Vedic literature of\nIndia would be almost an impossibility. We should suspect artificial\ninfluences, and look with small confidence on the historical character\nof such a literary agglomerate. But he who would question the\nantiquity of the Veda must explain how the layers of literature were\nformed that are super-imposed over the original stratum of the poetry\nof the Rishis; he who would suspect a literary forgery must show how,\nwhen, and for what purpose the 1000 hymns of the Rig-veda could have\nbeen forged, and have become the basis of the religious, moral,\npolitical, and literary life of the ancient inhabitants of India.\n\nThe idea of revelation, and I mean more particularly book-revelation,\nis not a modern idea, nor is it an idea peculiar to Christianity.\nThough we look for it in vain in the literature of Greece and Rome, we\nfind the literature of India saturated with this idea from beginning\nto end. In no country, I believe, has the theory of revelation been\nso minutely elaborated as in India. The name for revelation in\nSanskrit is _S_ruti, which means hearing; and this title distinguishes\nthe Vedic hymns and, at a later time, the Brahma_n_as also, from all\nother works, which, however sacred, and authoritative to the Hindu\nmind, are admitted to have been composed by human authors. The Laws of\nManu, for instance, according to the Brahmanic theology, are not\nrevelation; they are not _S_ruti, but only Sm_r_iti, which means\nrecollection or tradition. If these laws or any other work of\nauthority can be proved on any point to be at variance with a single\npassage of the Veda, their authority is at once overruled. According\nto the orthodox views of Indian theologians, not a single line of the\nVeda was the work of human authors. The whole Veda is in some way or\nother the work of the Deity; and even those who received the\nrevelation, or, as they express it, those who saw it, were not\nsupposed to be ordinary mortals, but beings raised above the level of\ncommon humanity, and less liable therefore to error in the reception\nof revealed truth. The views entertained of revelation by the orthodox\ntheologians of India are far more minute and elaborate than those of\nthe most extreme advocates of verbal inspiration in Europe. The human\nelement, called paurusheyatva in Sanskrit, is driven out of every\ncorner or hiding-place, and as the Veda is held to have existed in the\nmind of the Deity before the beginning of time, every allusion to\nhistorical events, of which there are not a few, is explained away\nwith a zeal and ingenuity worthy of a better cause.\n\nBut let me state at once that there is nothing in the hymns themselves\nto warrant such extravagant theories. In many a hymn the author says\nplainly that he or his friends made it to please the gods; that he\nmade it, as a carpenter makes a chariot (Rv. I. 130, 6; V. 2, 11), or\nlike a beautiful vesture (Rv. V. 29, 15); that he fashioned it in his\nheart and kept it in his mind (Rv. I. 171, 2); that he expects, as his\nreward, the favour of the god whom he celebrates (Rv. IV. 6, 21). But\nthough the poets of the Veda know nothing of the artificial theories\nof verbal inspiration, they were not altogether unconscious of higher\ninfluences: nay, they speak of their hymns as god-given ('devattam,'\nRv. III. 37, 4). One poets says (Rv. VI. 47, 10): 'O god (Indra) have\nmercy, give me my daily bread! Sharpen my mind, like the edge of iron.\nWhatever I now may utter, longing for thee, do thou accept it; make me\npossessed of God!' Another utters for the first time the famous hymn,\nthe Gayatri, which now for more than three thousand years has been the\ndaily prayer of every Brahman, and is still repeated every morning by\nmillions of pious worshippers: 'Let us meditate on the adorable light\nof the divine Creator: may he rouse our minds.'[13] This consciousness\nof higher influences, or of divine help in those who uttered for the\nfirst time the simple words of prayer, praise, and thanksgiving, is\nvery different, however, from the artificial theories of verbal\ninspiration which we find in the later theological writings; it is\nindeed but another expression of that deepfelt dependence on the\nDeity, of that surrender and denial of all that seems to be self,\nwhich was felt more or less by every nation, but by none, I believe,\nmore strongly, more constantly, than by the Indian. \"It is He that has\nmade it,\"--namely, the prayer in which the soul of the poet has thrown\noff her burden,--is but a variation of, \"It is He that has made us,\"\nwhich is the key-note of all religion, whether ancient or modern,\nwhether natural or revealed.\n\nI must say no more to-night of what the Veda is, for I am very anxious\nto explain to you, as far as it is possible, what I consider to be the\nreal importance of the Veda to the student of history, to the student\nof religion, to the student of mankind.\n\n[Footnote 13: 'Tat Savitur vare_n_yam bhargo devasya dhimahi, dhiyo yo\nna_h_ pra_k_odayat.'--Colebrooke, 'Miscellaneous Essays,' i. 30. Many\npassages bearing on this subject have been collected by Dr. Muir in\nthe third volume of his 'Sanskrit Texts,' p. 114 seq.]\n\nIn the study of mankind there can hardly be a subject more deeply\ninteresting than the study of the different forms of religion; and\nmuch as I value the Science of Language for the aid which it lends us\nin unraveling some of the most complicated tissues of the human\nintellect, I confess that to my mind there is no study more absorbing\nthan that of the Religions of the World,--the study, if I may so call\nit, of the various languages in which man has spoken to his Maker, and\nof that language in which his Maker \"at sundry times and in divers\nmanners\" spake to man.\n\nTo my mind the great epochs in the world's history are marked not by\nthe foundation or the destruction of empires, by the migrations of\nraces, or by French revolutions. All this is outward history, made up\nof events that seem gigantic and overpowering to those only who cannot\nsee beyond and beneath. The real history of man is the history of\nreligion--the wonderful ways by which the different families of the\nhuman race advanced towards a truer knowledge and a deeper love of\nGod. This is the foundation that underlies all profane history: it is\nthe light, the soul, and life of history, and without it all history\nwould indeed be profane.\n\nOn this subject there are some excellent works in English, such as Mr.\nMaurice's \"Lectures on the Religions of the World,\" or Mr. Hardwick's\n\"Christ and other Masters;\" in German, I need only mention Hegel's\n\"Philosophy of Religion,\" out of many other learned treatises on the\ndifferent systems of religion in the East and the West. But in all\nthese works religions are treated very much as languages were treated\nduring the last century. They are rudely classed, either according to\nthe different localities in which they prevailed, just as in Adelung's\n\"Mithridates\" you find the languages of the world classified as\nEuropean, African, American, Asiatic, etc.; or according to their age,\nas formerly languages used to be divided into ancient and modern; or\naccording to their respective dignity, as languages used to be treated\nas sacred or profane, as classical or illiterate. Now you know that\nthe Science of Language has sanctioned a totally different system of\nclassification; and that the Comparative Philologist ignores\naltogether the division of languages according to their locality, or\naccording to their age, or according to their classical or illiterate\ncharacter. Languages are now classified genealogically, _i. e._\naccording to their real relationship; and the most important languages\nof Asia, Europe, and Africa,--that is to say, of that part of the\nworld on which what we call the history of man has been acted,--have\nbeen grouped together into three great divisions, the Aryan or\nIndo-European Family, the Semitic Family, and the Turanian Class.\nAccording to that division you are aware that English, together with\nall the Teutonic languages of the Continent, Celtic, Slavonic, Greek,\nLatin with its modern offshoots, such as French and Italian, Persian,\nand Sanskrit, are so many varieties of one common type of speech: that\nSanskrit, the ancient language of the Veda, is no more distinct from\nthe Greek of Homer, or from the Gothic of Ulfilas, or from the\nAnglo-Saxon of Alfred, than French is from Italian. All these\nlanguages together form one family, one whole, in which every member\nshares certain features in common with all the rest, and is at the\nsame time distinguished from the rest by certain features peculiarly\nits own. The the world on which what we call the history of man has\nbeen acted, have been grouped together into three great divisions, the\nAryan or Indo-European Family, the Semitic Family, and the Turanian\nClass. According to that division you are aware that English together\nwith all the Teutonic languages of the Continent, Celtic, Slavonic,\nGreek, Latin with its modern offshoots, such as French and Italian,\nPersian, and Sanskrit, are so many varieties of one common type of\nspeech: that Sanskrit, the ancient language of the Veda, is no more\ndistinct from the Greek of Homer, or from the Gothic of Ulfilas, or\nfrom the Anglo-Saxon of Alfred, than French is from Italian. All these\nlanguages together form one family, one whole, in which every member\nshares certain features in common with all the rest, and is at the\nsame time distinguished from the rest by certain features peculiarly\nits own. The same applies to the Semitic Family, which comprises, as\nits most important members, the Hebrew of the Old Testament, the\nArabic of the Koran, and the ancient languages on the monuments of\nPhenicia and Carthage, of Babylon and Assyria. These languages, again,\nform a compact family, and differ entirely from the other family,\nwhich we called Aryan or Indo-European. The third group of languages,\nfor we can hardly call it a family, comprises most of the remaining\nlanguages of Asia, and counts among its principal members the\nTungusic, Mongolic, Turkic, Samoyedic, and Finnic, together with the\nlanguages of Siam, the Malay islands, Tibet, and Southern India.\nLastly, the Chinese language stands by itself, as monosyllabic, the\nonly remnant of the earliest formation of human speech.\n\nNow I believe that the same division which has introduced a new and\nnatural order into the history of languages, and has enabled us to\nunderstand the growth of human speech in a manner never dreamt of in\nformer days, will be found applicable to a scientific study of\nreligions. I shall say nothing to-night of the Semitic or Turanian or\nChinese religions, but confine my remarks to the religions of the\nAryan family. These religions, though more important in the ancient\nhistory of the world, as the religions of the Greeks and Romans, of\nour own Teutonic ancestors, and of the Celtic and Slavonic races, are\nnevertheless of great importance even at the present day. For although\nthere are no longer any worshippers of Zeus, or Jupiter, of Wodan,\nEsus,[14] or Perkunas,[15] the two religions of Aryan origin which\nstill survive, Brahmanism and Buddhism, claim together a decided\nmajority among the inhabitants of the globe. Out of the whole\npopulation of the world,\n\n31.2 per cent are Buddhists,\n13.4 per cent are Brahmanists,\n----\n44.6\n\nwhich together gives us 44 per cent for what may be called living\nAryan religions. Of the remaining 56 per cent, 15.7 are Mohammedans,\n8.7 per cent non-descript Heathens, 30.7 per cent Christians, and only\nO.3 per cent Jews.\n\n[Footnote 14: Mommsen, 'Inscriptiones Helveticae,' 40. Becker, 'Die\ninschriftlichen Ueberreste der Keltischen Sprache,' in 'Beitraege zur\nVergleichenden Sprachforschung,' vol. iii. p. 341. Lucau, Phars. 1,\n445, 'horrensque feris altaribus Hesus.']\n\n[Footnote 15: Cf. G. Buehler, 'Ueber Parjanya,' in Benfey's 'Orient und\nOccident,' vol. i. p. 214.]\n\nNow, as a scientific study of the Aryan languages became possible only\nafter the discovery of Sanskrit, a scientific study of the Aryan\nreligion dates really from the discovery of the Veda. The study of\nSanskrit brought to light the original documents of three religions,\nthe Sacred Books of the Brahmans, the Sacred Books of the Magians, the\nfollowers of Zoroaster, and the Sacred Books of the Buddhists. Fifty\nyears ago, these three collections of sacred writings were all but\nunknown, their very existence was doubted, and there was not a single\nscholar who could have translated a line of the Veda, a line of the\nZend-Avesta, or a line of the Buddhist Tripi_t_aka. At present large\nportions of these, the canonical writings of the most ancient and most\nimportant religions of the Aryan race, are published and deciphered,\nand we begin to see a natural progress, and almost a logical\nnecessity, in the growth of these three systems of worship. The\noldest, most primitive, most simple form of Aryan faith finds its\nexpression in the Veda. The Zend-Avesta represents in its language, as\nwell as in its thoughts, a branching off from that more primitive\nstem; a more or less conscious opposition to the worship of the gods\nof nature, as adored in the Veda, and a striving after a more\nspiritual, supreme, moral deity, such as Zoroaster proclaimed under\nthe name of Ahura mazda, or Ormuzd. Buddhism, lastly, marks a decided\nschism, a decided antagonism against the established religion of the\nBrahmans, a denial of the true divinity of the Vedic gods, and a\nproclamation of new philosophical and social doctrines.\n\nWithout the Veda, therefore, neither the reforms of Zoroaster nor the\nnew teaching of Buddha would have been intelligible: we should not\nknow what was behind them, or what forces impelled Zoroaster and\nBuddha to the founding of new religions; how much they received, how\nmuch they destroyed, how much they created. Take but one word in the\nreligious phraseology of these three systems. In the Veda the gods are\ncalled Deva. This word in Sanskrit means bright,--brightness or light\nbeing one of the most general attributes shared by the various\nmanifestations of the Deity, invoked in the Veda, as Sun, or Sky, or\nFire, or Dawn, or Storm. We can see, in fact, how in the minds of the\npoets of the Veda, deva from meaning bright, came gradually to mean\ndivine. In the Zend-Avesta the same word daeva means evil spirit. Many\nof the Vedic gods, with Indra at their head, have been degraded to the\nposition of daevas, in order to make room for Ahura mazda, the Wise\nSpirit, as the supreme deity of the Zoroastrians. In his confession of\nfaith the follower of Zoroaster declares: 'I cease to be a worshipper\nof the daevas.' In Buddhism, again, we find these ancient Devas, Indra\nand the rest, as merely legendary beings, carried about at shows, as\nservants of Buddha, as goblins or fabulous heroes; but no longer\neither worshipped or even feared by those with whom the name of Deva\nhad lost every trace of its original meaning. Thus this one word Deva\nmarks the mutual relations of these three religions. But more than\nthis. The same word deva is the Latin deus, thus pointing to that\ncommon source of language and religion, far beyond the heights of the\nVedic Olympus, from which the Romans, as well as the Hindus, draw the\nnames of their deities, and the elements of their language as well as\nof their religion.\n\nThe Veda, by its language and its thoughts, supplies that distant\nbackground in the history of all the religions of the Aryan race,\nwhich was missed indeed by every careful observer, but which formerly\ncould be supplied by guess-work only. How the Persians came to worship\nOrmuzd, how the Buddhists came to protest against temples and\nsacrifices, how Zeus and the Olympian gods came to be what they are in\nthe mind of Homer, or how such beings as Jupiter and Mars came to be\nworshipped by the Italian peasant:--all these questions, which used to\nyield material for endless and baseless speculations, can now be\nanswered by a simple reference to the hymns of the Veda. The religion\nof the Veda is not the source of all the other religions of the Aryan\nworld, nor is Sanskrit the mother of all the Aryan languages.\nSanskrit, as compared to Greek and Latin, is an elder sister, not a\nparent: Sanskrit is the earliest deposit of Aryan speech, as the Veda\nis the earliest deposit of Aryan faith. But the religion and incipient\nmythology of the Veda possess the same simplicity and transparency\nwhich distinguish the grammar of Sanskrit from Greek, Latin, or German\ngrammar. We can watch in the Veda ideas and their names growing, which\nin Persia, Greece, and Rome we meet with only as full-grown or as fast\ndecaying. We get one step nearer to that distant source of religious\nthought and language which has fed the different national streams of\nPersia, Greece, Rome, and Germany; and we begin to see clearly, what\nought never to have been doubted, that there is no religion without\nGod, or, as St. Augustine expressed, that 'there is no false religion\nwhich does not contain some elements of truth.'\n\nI do not wish by what I have said to raise any exaggerated\nexpectations as to the worth of these ancient hymns of the Veda, and\nthe character of that religion which they indicate rather than fully\ndescribe. The historical importance of the Veda can hardly be\nexaggerated, but its intrinsic merit, and particularly the beauty or\nelevation of its sentiments, have by many been rated far too high.\nLarge numbers of the Vedic hymns are childish in the extreme: tedious,\nlow, common-place. The gods are constantly invoked to protect their\nworshippers, to grant them food, large flocks, large families, and a\nlong life; for all which benefits they are to be rewarded by the\npraises and sacrifices offered day after day, or at certain seasons of\nthe year. But hidden in this rubbish there are precious stones. Only\nin order to appreciate them justly, we must try to divest ourselves of\nthe common notions about Polytheism, so repugnant not only to our\nfeelings, but to our understanding. No doubt, if we must employ\ntechnical terms, the religion of the Veda is Polytheism, not\nMonotheism. Deities are invoked by different names, some clear and\nintelligible, such as Agni, fire; Surya, the sun; Ushas, dawn; Maruts,\nthe storms; P_r_ithivi, the earth; Ap, the waters; Nadi, the rivers;\nothers such as Varu_n_a, Mitra, Indra, which have become proper names,\nand disclose but dimly their original application to the great aspects\nof nature, the sky, the sun, the day. But whenever one of these\nindividual gods is invoked, they are not conceived as limited by the\npowers of others, as superior or inferior in rank. Each god is to the\nmind of the supplicant as good as all gods. He is felt, at the time,\nas a real divinity,--as supreme and absolute,--without a suspicion of\nthose limitations which, to our mind, a plurality of gods _must_\nentail on every single god. All the rest disappear for a moment from\nthe vision of the poet, and he only who is to fulfill their desires\nstands in full light before the eyes of the worshippers. In one hymn,\nascribed to Manu, the poet says: \"Among you, O gods, there is none\nthat is small, none that is young; you are all great indeed.\" And this\nis indeed the key-note of the ancient Aryan worship. Yet it would be\neasy to find in the numerous hymns of the Veda, passages in which\nalmost every important deity is represented as supreme and absolute.\nThus in one hymn, Agni (fire) is called \"the ruler of the universe,\"\n\"the lord of men,\" \"the wise king, the father, the brother, the son,\nthe friend of man;\" nay, all the powers and names of the other gods\nare distinctly ascribed to Agni. But though Agni is thus highly\nexalted, nothing is said to disparage the divine character of the\nother gods. In another hymn another god, Indra, is said to be greater\nthan all: \"The gods,\" it is said, \"do not reach thee, Indra, nor men;\nthou overcomest all creatures in strength.\" Another god, Soma, is\ncalled the king of the world, the king of heaven and earth, the\nconqueror of all. And what more could human language achieve, in\ntrying to express the idea of a divine and supreme power, than what\nanother poet says of another god, Varu_n_a: \"Thou art lord of all, of\nheaven and earth; thou art the king of all, of those who are gods, and\nof those who are men!\"\n\nThis surely is not what is commonly understood by Polytheism. Yet it\nwould be equally wrong to call it Monotheism. If we must have a name\nfor it, I should call it Kathenotheism. The consciousness that all the\ndeities are but different names of one and the same godhead, breaks\nforth indeed here and there in the Veda. But it is far from being\ngeneral. One poet, for instance, says (Rv. I. 164, 46): \"They call him\nIndra, Mitra, Varu_n_a, Agni; then he is the beautiful-winged heavenly\nGarutmat: that which is One the wise call it in divers manners: they\ncall it Agni, Yama, Matari_s_van.\" And again (Rv. X. 114, 5): \"Wise\npoets make the beautiful-winged, though he is one, manifold by words.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nI shall read you a few Vedic verses, in which the religious sentiment\npredominates, and in which we perceive a yearning after truth, and\nafter the true God, untrammeled as yet by any names or any\ntraditions[16] (Rv. X. 121):--\n\n[Footnote 16: _History of Ancient Sanskrit Literature_, p. 569.]\n\n     1. In the beginning there arose the golden Child--He was the\n     one born lord of all that is. He stablished the earth, and\n     this sky;--Who is the God to whom we shall offer our\n     sacrifice?\n\n     2. He who gives life, He who gives strength; whose command\n     all the bright gods revere; whose shadow is immortality,\n     whose shadow is death;--Who is the God to whom we shall\n     offer our sacrifice?\n\n     3. He who through His power is the one king of the breathing\n     and awakening world--He who governs all, man and beast;--Who\n     is the God to whom we shall offer our sacrifice?\n\n     4. He whose greatness these snowy mountains, whose greatness\n     the sea proclaims, with the distant river--He whose these\n     regions are, as it were His two arms;--Who is the God to\n     whom we shall offer our sacrifice?\n\n     5. He through whom the sky is bright and the earth firm--He\n     through whom the heaven was stablished,--nay, the highest\n     heaven,--He who measured out the light in the air;--Who is\n     the God to whom we shall offer our sacrifice?\n\n     6. He to whom heaven and earth, standing firm by His will,\n     look up, trembling inwardly--He over whom the rising sun\n     shines forth;--Who is the God to whom we shall offer our\n     sacrifice?\n\n     7. Wherever the mighty water-clouds went, where they placed\n     the seed and lit the fire, thence arose He who is the sole\n     life of the bright gods;--Who is the God to whom we shall\n     offer our sacrifice?\n\n     8. He who by His might looked even over the water-clouds,\n     the clouds which gave strength and lit the sacrifice; He who\n     alone is God above all gods;--\n\n     9. May He not destroy us--He the creator of the earth; or\n     He, the righteous, who created the heaven; He also created\n     the bright and mighty waters;--Who is the God to whom we\n     shall offer our sacrifice?[17]\n\nThe following may serve as specimens of hymns addressed to individual\ndeities whose names have become the centres of religious thought and\nlegendary traditions; deities, in fact, like Jupiter, Apollo, Mars, or\nMinerva, no longer mere germs, but fully developed forms of early\nthought and language:\n\n[Footnote 17: A last verse is added, which entirely spoils the\npoetical beauty and the whole character of the hymn. Its later origin\nseems to have struck even native critics, for the author of the Pada\ntext did not receive it. 'O Pra_g_apati, no other than thou hast\nembraced all these created things; may what we desired when we called\non thee, be granted to us, may we be lords of riches.']\n\n     HYMN TO INDRA (Rv. I. 53).[18]\n\n     1. Keep silence well![19] we offer praises to the great\n     Indra in the house of the sacrificer. Does he find treasure\n     for those who are like sleepers? Mean praise is not valued\n     among the munificent.\n\n     2. Thou art the giver of horses, Indra, thou art the giver\n     of cows, the giver of corn, the strong lord of wealth: the\n     old guide of man, disappointing no desires, a friend to\n     friends:--to him we address this song.\n\n     3. O powerful Indra, achiever of many works, most brilliant\n     god--all this wealth around here is known to be thine alone:\n     take from it, conqueror! bring it hither! Do not stint the\n     desire of the worshipper who longs for thee!\n\n     4. On these days thou art gracious, and on these\n     nights,[20] keeping off the enemy from our cows and from\n     our stud. Tearing[21] the fiend night after night with the\n     help of Indra, let us rejoice in food, freed from haters.\n\n     5. Let us rejoice, Indra, in treasure and food, in wealth of\n     manifold delight and splendour. Let us rejoice in the\n     blessing of the gods, which gives us the strength of\n     offspring, gives us cows first and horses.\n\n     6. These draughts inspired thee, O lord of the brave! these\n     were vigour, these libations, in battles, when for the sake\n     of the poet, the sacrificer, thou struckest down\n     irresistibly ten thousands of enemies.\n\n     7. From battle to battle thou advancest bravely, from town\n     to town thou destroyest all this with might, when thou,\n     Indra, with Nami as thy friend, struckest down from afar the\n     deceiver Namu_k_i.\n\n     8. Thou hast slain Karanga and Par_n_aya with the\n     brightest spear of Atithigva. Without a helper thou didst\n     demolish the hundred cities of Vang_r_ida, which were\n     besieged by _R_i_g_i_s_van.\n\n     9. Thou hast felled down with the chariot-wheel these twenty\n     kings of men, who had attacked the friendless\n     Su_s_ravas,[22] and gloriously the sixty thousand and\n     ninety-nine forts.\n\n     10. Thou, Indra, hast succoured Su_s_ravas with thy\n     succours, Turvaya_n_a with thy protections. Thou hast made\n     Kutsa, Atithigva, and Ayu subject to this mighty youthful\n     king.\n\n     11. We who in future, protected by the gods, wish to be thy\n     most blessed friends, we shall praise thee, blessed by thee\n     with offspring, and enjoying henceforth a longer life.\n\n[Footnote 18: I subjoin for some of the hymns here translated, the\ntranslation of the late Professor Wilson, in order to show what kind\nof difference there is between the traditional rendering of the Vedic\nhymns, as adopted by him, and their interpretation according to the\nrules of modern scholarship:\n\n1. We ever offer fitting praise to the mighty Indra, in the dwelling\nof the worshipper, by which he (the deity) has quickly acquired\nriches, as (a thief) hastily carries (off the property) of the\nsleeping. Praise ill expressed is not valued among the munificent.\n\n2. Thou, Indra, art the giver of horses, of cattle, of barley, the\nmaster and protector of wealth, the foremost in liberality, (the\nbeing) of many days; thou disappointest not desires (addressed to\nthee); thou art a friend to our friends: such an Indra we praise.\n\n3. Wise and resplendent Indra, the achiever of great deeds, the riches\nthat are spread around are known to be thine: having collected them,\nvictor (over thy enemies), bring them to us: disappoint not the\nexpectation of the worshipper who trusts in thee.\n\n4. Propitiated by these offerings, by these libations, dispel poverty\nwith cattle and horses: may we, subduing our adversary, and relieved\nfrom enemies by Indra, (pleased) by our libations, enjoy together\nabundant food.\n\n5. Indra, may we become possessed of riches, and of food; and with\nenergies agreeable to many, and shining around, may we prosper through\nthy divine favour, the source of prowess, of cattle, and of horses.\n\n6. Those who were thy allies, (the Maruts,) brought thee joy:\nprotector of the pious, those libations and oblations (that were\noffered thee on slaying V_r_itra), yielded thee delight, when thou,\nunimpeded by foes, didst destroy the ten thousand obstacles opposed to\nhim who praised thee and offered thee libations.\n\n7. Humiliator (of adversaries), thou goest from battle to battle, and\ndestroyest by thy might city after city: with thy foe-prostrating\nassociate, (the thunderbolt,) thou, Indra, didst slay afar off the\ndeceiver named Namu_k_i.\n\n8. Thou hast slain Karanga and Par_n_aya with thy bright gleaming\nspear, in the cause of Atithigva: unaided, thou didst demolish the\nhundred cities of Vang_r_ida, when besieged by _R_i_g_i_s_van.\n\n9. Thou, renowned Indra, overthrewest by thy not-to-be-overtaken\nchariot-wheel, the twenty kings of men, who had come against\nSu_s_ravas, unaided, and their sixty thousand and ninety and nine\nfollowers.\n\n10. Thou, Indra, hast preserved Su_s_ravas by thy succour,\nTurvaya_n_a, by thy assistance: thou hast made Kutsa, Atithigva, and\nAyu subject to the mighty though youthful Su_s_ravas.\n\n11. Protected by the gods, we remain, Indra, at the close of the\nsacrifice, thy most fortunate friends: we praise thee, as enjoying\nthrough thee excellent offspring, and a long and prosperous life.]\n\n[Footnote 19: Favete linguis.]\n\n[Footnote 20: Cf. Rv. I. 112, 25, 'dyubhir aktubhi_h_,' by day and by\nnight; also Rv. III. 31, 16. M. M., 'Todtenbestattung,' p. v.]\n\n[Footnote 21: Professor Benfey reads durayanta_h_, but all MSS. that I\nknow, without exception, read darayanta_h_.]\n\nThe next hymn is one of many addressed to Agni as the god of fire, not\nonly the fire as a powerful element, but likewise the fire of the\nhearth and the altar, the guardian of the house, the minister of the\nsacrifice, the messenger between gods and men:\n\n[Footnote 22: See Spiegel, 'Eran,' p. 269, on Khai Khosru =\nSu_s_ravas.]\n\n     HYMN TO AGNI (Rv. II. 6).\n\n     1. Agni, accept this log which I offer to thee, accept this\n     my service; listen well to these my songs.\n\n     2. With this log, O Agni, may we worship thee, thou son of\n     strength, conqueror of horses! and with this hymn, thou\n     high-born!\n\n     3. May we thy servants serve thee with songs, O granter of\n     riches, thou who lovest songs and delightest in riches.\n\n     4. Thou lord of wealth and giver of wealth, be thou wise and\n     powerful; drive away from us the enemies!\n\n     5. He gives us rain from heaven, he gives us inviolable\n     strength, he gives us food a thousandfold.\n\n     6. Youngest of the gods, their messenger, their invoker,\n     most deserving of worship, come, at our praise, to him who\n     worships thee and longs for thy help.\n\n     7. For thou, O sage, goest wisely between these two\n     creations (heaven and earth, gods and men), like a friendly\n     messenger between two hamlets.\n\n     8. Thou art wise, and thou hast been pleased; perform thou,\n     intelligent Agni, the sacrifice without interruption, sit\n     down on this sacred grass!\n\nThe following hymn, partly laudatory, partly deprecatory, is addressed\nto the Maruts or Rudras, the Storm-gods:\n\n     HYMN TO THE MARUTS (Rv. I. 39).[23]\n\n     1. When you thus from afar cast forward your measure, like a\n     blast of fire, through whose wisdom is it, through whose\n     design? To whom do you go, to whom, ye shakers (of the\n     earth)?\n\n     2. May your weapons be firm to attack, strong also to\n     withstand! May yours be the more glorious strength, not that\n     of the deceitful mortal!\n\n     3. When you overthrow what is firm, O ye men, and whirl\n     about what is heavy, ye pass through the trees of the earth,\n     through the clefts of the rocks.\n\n     4. No real foe of yours is known in heaven, nor in earth, ye\n     devourers of enemies! May strength be yours, together with\n     your race, O Rudras, to defy even now.\n\n     5. They make the rocks to tremble, they tear asunder the\n     kings of the forest. Come on, Maruts, like madmen, ye gods,\n     with your whole tribe.\n\n     6. You have harnessed the spotted deer to your chariots, a\n     red deer draws as leader. Even the earth listened at your\n     approach, and men were frightened.\n\n     7. O Rudras, we quickly desire your help for our race. Come\n     now to us with help, as of yore, thus for the sake of the\n     frightened Ka_n_va.\n\n     8. Whatever fiend, roused by you or roused by mortals,\n     attacks us, tear him from us by your power, by your\n     strength, by your aid.\n\n     9. For you, worshipful and wise, have wholly protected\n     Ka_n_va. Come to us, Maruts, with your whole help, as\n     quickly as lightnings come after the rain.\n\n     10. Bounteous givers, ye possess whole strength, whole\n     power, ye shakers (of the earth). Send, O Maruts, against\n     the proud enemy of the poets, an enemy, like an arrow.\n\n[Footnote 23: Professor Wilson translates as follows:\n\n     1. When, Maruts, who make (all things) tremble, you direct\n     your awful (vigour) downwards from afar, as light (descends\n     from heaven), by whose worship, by whose praise (are you\n     attracted)? To what (place of sacrifice), to whom, indeed,\n     do you repair?\n\n     2. Strong be your weapons for driving away (your) foes, firm\n     in resisting them: yours be the strength that merits praise,\n     not (the strength) of a treacherous mortal.\n\n     3. Directing Maruts, when you demolish what is stable, when\n     you scatter what is ponderous, then you make your way\n     through the forest (trees) of earth and the defiles of the\n     mountains.\n\n     4. Destroyers of foes, no adversary of yours is known above\n     the heavens, nor (is any) upon earth: may your collective\n     strength be quickly exerted, sons of Rudra, to humble (your\n     enemies).\n\n     5. They make the mountains tremble, they drive apart the\n     forest trees. Go, divine Maruts, whither you will, with all\n     your progeny, like those intoxicated.\n\n     6. You have harnessed the spotted deer to your chariot; the\n     red deer yoked between them, (aids to) drag the car: the\n     firmament listens for your coming, and men are alarmed.\n\n     7. Rudras, we have recourse to your assistance for the sake\n     of our progeny: come quickly to the timid Ka_n_va, as you\n     formerly came, for our protection.\n\n     8. Should any adversary, instigated by you, or by man,\n     assail us, withhold from him food and strength and your\n     assistance.\n\n     9. Pra_k_etasas, who are to be unreservedly worshipped,\n     uphold (the sacrificer) Ka_n_va: come to us, Maruts, with\n     undivided protective assistances, as the lightnings (bring)\n     the rain.\n\n     10. Bounteous givers, you enjoy unimpaired vigour: shakers\n     (of the earth), you possess undiminished strength: Maruts,\n     let loose your anger, like an arrow, upon the wrathful enemy\n     of the Rishis.\n]\n\nThe following is a simple prayer addressed to the Dawn:\n\n     HYMN TO USHAS (Rv. VII. 77).\n\n     1. She shines upon us, like a young wife, rousing every\n     living being to go to his work. When the fire had to be\n     kindled by men, she made the light by striking down\n     darkness.\n\n     2. She rose up, spreading far and wide, and moving\n     everywhere. She grew in brightness, wearing her brilliant\n     garment. The mother of the cows, (the mornings) the leader\n     of the days, she shone gold-coloured, lovely to behold.\n\n     3. She, the fortunate, who brings the eye of the gods, who\n     leads the white and lovely steed (of the sun), the Dawn was\n     seen revealed by her rays, with brilliant treasures,\n     following every one.\n\n     4. Thou who art a blessing where thou art near, drive far\n     away the unfriendly; make the pasture wide, give us safety!\n     Scatter the enemy, bring riches! Raise up wealth to the\n     worshipper, thou mighty Dawn.\n\n     5. Shine for us with thy best rays, thou bright Dawn, thou\n     who lengthenest our life, thou the love of all, who givest\n     us food, who givest us wealth in cows, horses, and chariots.\n\n     6. Thou, daughter of the sky, thou high-born Dawn, whom the\n     Vasish_t_has magnify with songs, give us riches high and\n     wide: all ye gods, protect us always with your blessings.\n\nI must confine myself to shorter extracts, in order to be able to show\nto you that all the principal elements of real religion are present in\nthe Veda. I remind you again that the Veda contains a great deal of\nwhat is childish and foolish, though very little of what is bad and\nobjectionable. Some of its poets ascribe to the gods sentiments and\npassions unworthy of the deity, such as anger, revenge, delight in\nmaterial sacrifices; they likewise represent human nature on a low\nlevel of selfishness and worldliness. Many hymns are utterly unmeaning\nand insipid, and we must search patiently before we meet, here and\nthere, with sentiments that come from the depth of the soul, and with\nprayers in which we could join ourselves. Yet there are such\npassages, and they are the really important passages, as marking the\nhighest points to which the religious life of the ancient poets of\nIndia had reached; and it is to these that I shall now call your\nattention.\n\nFirst of all, the religion of the Veda knows of no idols. The worship\nof idols in India is a secondary formation, a later degradation of the\nmore primitive worship of ideal gods.\n\nThe gods of the Veda are conceived as immortal: passages in which the\nbirth of certain gods is mentioned have a physical meaning: they refer\nto the birth of the day, the rising of the sun, the return of the\nyear.\n\nThe gods are supposed to dwell in heaven, though several of them, as,\nfor instance, Agni, the god of fire, are represented as living among\nmen, or as approaching the sacrifice, and listening to the praises of\ntheir worshippers.\n\nHeaven and earth are believed to have been made or to have been\nestablished by certain gods. Elaborate theories of creation, which\nabound in the later works, the Brahma_n_as, are not to be found in the\nhymns. What we find are such passages as:\n\n'Agni held the earth, he stablished the heaven by truthful words' (Rv.\nI. 67, 3).\n\n'Varu_n_a stemmed asunder the wide firmaments; he lifted on high the\nbright and glorious heaven; he stretched out apart the starry sky and\nthe earth' (Rv. VII. 86, 1).\n\nMore frequently, however, the poets confess their ignorance of the\nbeginning of all things, and one of them exclaims:\n\n'Who has seen the first-born? Where was the life, the blood, the soul\nof the world? Who went to ask this from any that knew it? (Rv. I. 164,\n4).[24]\n\nOr again, Rv. X. 81, 4: 'What was the forest, what was the tree out of\nwhich they shaped heaven and earth? Wise men, ask this indeed in your\nmind, on what he stood when he held the worlds?'\n\nI now come to a more important subject. We find in the Veda, what few\nwould have expected to find there, the two ideas, so contradictory to\nthe human understanding, and yet so easily reconciled in every human\nheart: God has established the eternal laws of right and wrong, he\npunishes sin and rewards virtue, and yet the same God is willing to\nforgive; just, yet merciful; a judge, and yet a father. Consider, for\ninstance, the following lines, Rv. I. 41, 4: 'His path is easy and\nwithout thorns, who does what is right.'\n\nAnd again, Rv. I. 41, 9: 'Let man fear Him who holds the four (dice),\nbefore he throws them down (i. e. God who holds the destinies of men\nin his hand); let no man delight in evil words!'\n\nAnd then consider the following hymns, and imagine the feelings which\nalone could have prompted them:\n\n     HYMN TO VARU_N_A (Rv. VII. 89).\n\n     1. Let me not yet, O Varu_n_a, enter into the house of clay;\n     have mercy, almighty, have mercy!\n\n     2. If I go along trembling, like a cloud driven by the wind;\n     have mercy, almighty, have mercy!\n\n     3. Through want of strength, thou strong and bright god,\n     have I gone wrong; have mercy, almighty, have mercy!\n\n     4. Thirst came upon the worshipper, though he stood in the\n     midst of the waters; have mercy, almighty, have mercy!\n\n     5. Whenever we men, O Varu_n_a, commit an offence before the\n     heavenly host, whenever we break the law through\n     thoughtlessness; have mercy, almighty, have mercy!\n\n[Footnote 24: 'History of Ancient Sanskrit Literature,' p. 20 note.]\n\nAnd again, Rv. VII. 86:\n\n     1. Wise and mighty are the works of him who stemmed asunder\n     the wide firmaments (heaven and earth). He lifted on high\n     the bright and glorious heaven; he stretched out apart the\n     starry sky and the earth.\n\n     2. Do I say this to my own self? How can I get unto\n     Varu_n_a? Will he accept my offering without displeasure?\n     When shall I, with a quiet mind, see him propitiated?\n\n     3. I ask, O Varu_n_a, wishing to know this my sin. I go to\n     ask the wise. The sages all tell me the same: Varu_n_a it is\n     who is angry with thee.\n\n     4. Was it an old sin, O Varu_n_a, that thou wishest to\n     destroy thy friend, who always praises thee? Tell me, thou\n     unconquerable lord, and I will quickly turn to thee with\n     praise, freed from sin.\n\n     5. Absolve us from the sins of our fathers, and from those\n     which we committed with our own bodies. Release Vasish_t_ha,\n     O king, like a thief who has feasted on stolen oxen; release\n     him like a calf from the rope.\n\n     6. It was not our own doing, O Varu_n_a, it was necessity\n     (or temptation), an intoxicating draught, passion, dice,\n     thoughtlessness. The old is there to mislead the young; even\n     sleep brings unrighteousness.\n\n     7. Let me without sin give satisfaction to the angry god,\n     like a slave to the bounteous lord. The lord god enlightened\n     the foolish; he, the wisest, leads his worshipper to wealth.\n\n     8. O lord Varu_n_a, may this song go well to thy heart! May\n     we prosper in keeping and acquiring! Protect us, O gods,\n     always with your blessings!\n\nThe consciousness of sin is a prominent feature in the religion of the\nVeda, so is likewise the belief that the gods are able to take away\nfrom man the heavy burden of his sins. And when we read such passages\nas 'Varu_n_a is merciful even to him who has committed sin' (Rv. VII.\n87, 7), we should surely not allow the strange name of Varu_n_a to jar\non our ears, but should remember that it is but one of the many names\nwhich men invented in their helplessness to express their ideas of the\nDeity, however partial and imperfect.\n\nThe next hymn, which is taken from the Atharva-veda (IV. 16), will\nshow how near the language of the ancient poets of India may approach\nto the language of the Bible:[25]\n\n     1. The great lord of these worlds sees as if he were near.\n     If a man thinks he is walking by stealth, the gods know it\n     all.\n\n     2. If a man stands or walks or hides, if he goes to lie down\n     or to get up, what two people sitting together whisper, king\n     Varu_n_a knows it, he is there as the third.\n\n     3. This earth, too, belongs to Varu_n_a, the king, and this\n     wide sky with its ends far apart. The two seas (the sky and\n     the ocean) are Varu_n_a's loins; he is also contained in\n     this small drop of water.\n\n     4. He who should flee far beyond the sky, even he would not\n     be rid of Varu_n_a, the king. His spies proceed from heaven\n     towards this world; with thousand eyes they overlook this\n     earth.\n\n     5. King Varu_n_a sees all this, what is between heaven and\n     earth, and what is beyond. He has counted the twinklings of\n     the eyes of men. As a player throws the dice, he settles all\n     things.\n\n     6. May all thy fatal nooses, which stand spread out seven by\n     seven and threefold, catch the man who tells a lie, may they\n     pass by him who tells the truth.\n\n[Footnote 25: This hymn was first pointed out by Professor Roth in a\ndissertation on the Atharva-veda (Tuebingen, 1856), and it has since\nbeen translated and annotated by Dr. Muir, in his article on the\n'Vedic Theogony and Cosmogony,' p. 31.]\n\nAnother idea which we find in the Veda is that of faith: not only in\nthe sense of trust in the gods, in their power, their protection,\ntheir kindness, but in that of belief in their existence. The Latin\nword credo, I believe, is the same as the Sanskrit _s_raddha, and this\n_s_raddha occurs in the Veda:\n\nRv. I. 102, 2. 'Sun and moon go on in regular succession, that we may\nsee, Indra, and believe.'\n\nRv. I. 104, 6. 'Destroy not our future offspring, O Indra, for we have\nbelieved in thy great power.'\n\nRv. I. 55, 5. 'When Indra hurls again and again his thunderbolt, then\nthey believe in the brilliant god.'[26]\n\n[Footnote 26: During violent thunderstorms the natives of New Holland\nare so afraid of War-ru-gu-ra, the evil spirit, that they seek shelter\neven in caves haunted by Ingnas, subordinate demons, which at other\ntimes they would enter on no account. There, in silent terror, they\nprostrate themselves with their faces to the ground, waiting until the\nspirit, having expended his fury, shall retire to Uta (hell) without\nhaving discovered their hiding-place.--'Transactions of Ethnological\nSociety,' vol. iii. p. 229. Oldfield, 'The Aborigines of Australia.']\n\nA similar sentiment, namely, that men only believe in the gods when\nthey see their signs and wonders in the sky, is expressed by another\npoet (Rv. VIII. 21, 14):\n\n     'Thou, Indra, never findest a rich man to be thy friend;\n     wine-swillers despise thee. But when thou thunderest, when\n     thou gatherest (the clouds), then thou art called, like a\n     father.'\n\nAnd with this belief in god, there is also coupled that doubt, that\ntrue scepticism, if we may so call it, which is meant to give to faith\nits real strength. We find passages even in these early hymns where\nthe poet asks himself, whether there is really such a god as Indra,--a\nquestion immediately succeeded by an answer, as if given to the poet\nby Indra himself. Thus we read Rv. VIII. 89, 3:\n\n     'If you wish for strength, offer to Indra a hymn of praise:\n     a true hymn, if Indra truly exist; for some one says, Indra\n     does not exist! Who has seen him? Whom shall we praise?'\n\nThen Indra answers through the poet:\n\n     'Here I am, O worshipper, behold me here! in might I surpass\n     all things.'\n\nSimilar visions occur elsewhere, where the poet, after inviting a god\nto a sacrifice, or imploring his pardon for his offences, suddenly\nexclaims that he has seen the god, and that he feels that his prayer\nis granted. For instance:\n\n     HYMN TO VARU_N_A (Rv. I. 25).\n\n     1. However we break thy laws from day to day, men as we are,\n     O god, Varu_n_a,\n\n     2. Do not deliver us unto death, nor to the blow of the\n     furious; nor to the wrath of the spiteful!\n\n     3. To propitiate thee, O Varu_n_a, we unbend thy mind with\n     songs, as the charioteer a weary steed.\n\n     4. Away from me they flee dispirited, intent only on gaining\n     wealth; as birds to their nests.\n\n     5. When shall we bring hither the man, who is victory to the\n     warriors; when shall we bring Varu_n_a, the wide-seeing, to\n     be propitiated?\n\n     [6. This they (Mitra and Varu_n_a) take in common; gracious,\n     they never fail the faithful giver.]\n\n     7. He who knows the place of the birds that fly through the\n     sky, who on the waters knows the ships;--\n\n     8. He, the upholder of order, who knows the twelve months\n     with the offspring of each, and knows the month that is\n     engendered afterwards;--\n\n     9. He who knows the track of the wind, of the wide, the\n     bright, the mighty; and knows those who reside on high;--\n\n     10. He, the upholder of order, Varu_n_a, sits down among his\n     people; he, the wise, sits there to govern.\n\n     11. From thence perceiving all wondrous things, he sees what\n     has been and what will be done.\n\n     12. May he, the wise Aditya, make our paths straight all our\n     days; may he prolong our lives!\n\n     13. Varu_n_a, wearing golden mail, has put on his shining\n     cloak; the spies sat down around him.\n\n     14. The god whom the scoffers do not provoke, nor the\n     tormentors of men, nor the plotters of mischief;--\n\n     15. He, who gives to men glory, and not half glory, who\n     gives it even to our own selves;--\n\n     16. Yearning for him, the far-seeing, my thoughts move\n     onwards, as kine move to their pastures.\n\n     17. Let us speak together again, because my honey has been\n     brought: that thou mayst eat what thou likest, like a\n     friend.\n\n     18. Did I see the god who is to be seen by all, did I see\n     the chariot above the earth? He must have accepted my\n     prayers.\n\n     19. O hear this my calling, Varu_n_a, be gracious now;\n     longing for help, I have called upon thee.\n\n     20. Thou, O wise god, art lord of all, of heaven and earth:\n     listen on thy way.\n\n     21. That I may live, take from me the upper rope, loose the\n     middle, and remove the lowest!\n\nIn conclusion, let me tell you that there is in the Veda no trace of\nmetempsychosis or that transmigration of souls from human to animal\nbodies which is generally supposed to be a distinguishing feature of\nIndian religion. Instead of this, we find what is really the sine qua\nnon of all real religion, a belief in immortality, and in personal\nimmortality. Without a belief in personal immortality, religion surely\nis like an arch resting on one pillar, like a bridge ending in an\nabyss. We cannot wonder at the great difficulties felt and expressed\nby bishop Warburton and other eminent divines, with regard to the\nsupposed total absence of the doctrine of immortality or personal\nimmortality in the Old Testament; and it is equally startling that the\nSadducees who sat in the same council with the high-priest, openly\ndenied the resurrection.[27] However, though not expressly asserted\nanywhere, a belief in personal immortality is taken for granted in\nseveral passages of the Old Testament, and we can hardly think of\nAbraham or Moses as without a belief in life and immortality. But\nwhile this difficulty, so keenly felt with regard to the Jewish\nreligion, ought to make us careful in the judgments which we form of\nother religions, and teach us the wisdom of charitable interpretation,\nit is all the more important to mark that in the Veda passages occur\nwhere immortality of the soul, personal immortality and personal\nresponsibility after death, are clearly proclaimed. Thus we read:\n\n[Footnote 27: Acts xxii. 30, xxiii. 6.]\n\n     'He who gives alms goes to the highest place in heaven; he\n     goes to the gods' (Rv. I. 125, 56).\n\nAnother poet, after rebuking those who are rich and do not\ncommunicate, says:\n\n     'The kind mortal is greater than the great in heaven!'\n\nEven the idea, so frequent in the later literature of the Brahmans,\nthat immortality is secured by a son, seems implied, unless our\ntranslation deceives us, in one passage of the Veda (VII. 56, 24):\n'Asme (iti) vira_h_ maruta_h_ sushmi astu _g_ananam ya_h_ asura_h_ vi\ndharta, apa_h_ yena su-kshitaye tarema, adha svam oka_h_ abhi vah\nsyama.' 'O Maruts, may there be to us a strong son, who is a living\nruler of men: through whom we may cross the waters on our way to the\nhappy abode; then may we come to your own house!'\n\nOne poet prays that he may see again his father and mother after death\n(Rv. I. 24, 1); and the fathers (Pit_r_is) are invoked almost like\ngods, oblations are offered to them, and they are believed to enjoy,\nin company with the gods, a life of never ending felicity (Rv. X. 15,\n16).\n\nWe find this prayer addressed to Soma (Rv. IX. 113, 7):\n\n     'Where there is eternal light, in the world where the sun is\n     placed, in that immortal imperishable world place me, O\n     Soma!'\n\n     'Where king Vaivasvata reigns, where the secret place of\n     heaven is, where these mighty waters are, there make me\n     immortal!\n\n     'Where life is free, in the third heaven of heavens, where\n     the worlds are radiant, there make me immortal!'\n\n     'Where wishes and desires are, where the place of the bright\n     sun is, where there is freedom and delight, there make me\n     immortal!\n\n     'Where there is happiness and delight, where joy and\n     pleasure reside, where the desires of our desire are\n     attained, there make me immortal!'[28]\n\nWhether the old Rishis believed likewise in a place of punishment for\nthe wicked, is more doubtful, though vague allusions to it occur in\nthe Rig-veda, and more distinct descriptions are found in the\nAtharva-veda. In one verse it is said that the dead is rewarded for\nhis good deeds, that he leaves or casts off all evil, and glorified\ntakes his body (Rv. X. 14, 8).[29] The dogs of Yama, the king of the\ndeparted, present some terrible aspects, and Yama is asked to protect\nthe departed from them (Rv. X. 14, 11). Again, a pit (karta) is\nmentioned into which the lawless are said to be hurled down (Rv. IX.\n73, 8), and into which Indra casts those who offer no sacrifices (Rv.\nI. 121, 13). One poet prays that the Adityas may preserve him from the\ndestroying wolf, and from falling into the pit (Rv. II. 29, 6). In one\npassage we read that 'those who break the commandments of Varu_n_a and\nwho speak lies are born for that deep place' (Rv. IV. 5, 5).[30]\n\n[Footnote 28: Professor Roth, after quoting several passages from the\nVeda in which a belief in immortality is expressed, remarks with great\ntruth: 'We here find, not without astonishment, beautiful conceptions\non immortality expressed in unadorned language with child-like\nconviction. If it were necessary, we might here find the most powerful\nweapons against the view which has lately been revived, and proclaimed\nas new, that Persia was the only birthplace of the idea of\nimmortality, and that even the nations of Europe had derived it from\nthat quarter. As if the religious spirit of every gifted race was not\nable to arrive at it by its own strength.'--('Journal of the German\nOriental Society,' vol. iv. p. 427.) See Dr. Muir's article on Yama,\nin the 'Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society,' p. 10.]\n\n[Footnote 29: M. M., Die Todtenbestattung bei den Brahmanen\n'Zeitschrift der Deutschen Morgenlaendischen Gesellschaft,' vol. ix. p.\nxii.]\n\n[Footnote 30: Dr. Muir, article on Yama, p. 18.]\n\nSurely the discovery of a religion like this, as unexpected as the\ndiscovery of the jaw-bone of Abbeville, deserves to arrest our\nthoughts for a moment, even in the haste and hurry of this busy life.\nNo doubt for the daily wants of life, the old division of religions\ninto true and false is quite sufficient; as for practical purposes we\ndistinguish only between our own mother-tongue on the one side, and\nall other foreign languages on the other. But, from a higher point of\nview, it would not be right to ignore the new evidence that has come\nto light; and as the study of geology has given us a truer insight\ninto the stratification of the earth, it is but natural to expect that\na thoughtful study of the original works of three of the most\nimportant religions of the world, Brahmanism, Magism, and Buddhism,\nwill modify our views as to the growth or history of religion, as to\nthe hidden layers of religious thought beneath the soil on which we\nstand. Such inquires should be undertaken without prejudice and\nwithout fear: the evidence is placed before us; our duty is to sift it\ncritically, to weigh it honestly, and to wait for the results.\n\nThree of these results, to which, I believe, a comparative study of\nreligions is sure to lead, I may state before I conclude this Lecture:\n\n     1. We shall learn that religions in their most ancient form,\n     or in the minds of their authors, are generally free from\n     many of the blemishes that attach to them in later times.\n\n     2. We shall learn that there is hardly one religion which\n     does not contain some truth, some important truth; truth\n     sufficient to enable those who seek the Lord and feel after\n     Him, to find Him in their hour of need.\n\n     3. We shall learn to appreciate better than ever what we\n     have in our own religion. No one who has not examined\n     patiently and honestly the other religions of the world, can\n     know what Christianity really is, or can join with such\n     truth and sincerity in the words of St. Paul: 'I am not\n     ashamed of the Gospel of Christ.'\n\n\n\n\nII.\n\nCHRIST AND OTHER MASTERS.[31]\n\n\nIn so comprehensive a work as Mr. Hardwick's 'Christ and other\nMasters,' the number of facts stated, of topics discussed, of\nquestions raised, is so considerable that in reviewing it we can\nselect only one or two points for special consideration. Mr. Hardwick\nintends to give in his work, of which the third volume has just been\npublished, a complete panorama of ancient religion. After having\ndiscussed in the first volume what he calls the religious tendencies\nof our age, he enters upon an examination of the difficult problem of\nthe unity of the human race, and proceeds to draw, in a separate\nchapter, the characteristic features of religion under the Old\nTestament. Having thus cleared his way, and established some of the\nprinciples according to which the religions of the world should be\njudged, Mr. Hardwick devotes the whole of the second volume to the\nreligions of India. We find there, first of all, a short but very\nclear account of the religion of the Veda, as far as it is known at\npresent. We then come to a more matter-of-fact representation of\nBrahmanism, or the religion of the Hindus, as represented in the\nso-called Laws of Manu, and in the ancient portions of the two epic\npoems, the Ramaya_n_a and Mahabharata. The next chapter is devoted to\nthe various systems of Indian philosophy, which all partake more or\nless of a religious character, and form a natural transition to the\nfirst subjective system of faith in India, the religion of Buddha. Mr.\nHardwick afterwards discusses, in two separate chapters, the apparent\nand the real correspondences between Hinduism and revealed religion,\nand throws out some hints how we may best account for the partial\nglimpses of truth which exist in the Vedas, the canonical books of\nBuddhism, and the later Pura_n_as. All these questions are handled\nwith such ability, and discussed with so much elegance and eloquence,\nthat the reader becomes hardly aware of the great difficulties of the\nsubject, and carries away, if not quite a complete and correct, at\nleast a very lucid, picture of the religious life of ancient India.\nThe third volume, which was published in the beginning of this year,\nis again extremely interesting, and full of the most varied\ndescriptions. The religions of China are given first, beginning with\nan account of the national traditions, as collected and fixed by\nConfucius. Then follows the religious system of Lao-tse, or the\nTao-ism of China, and lastly Buddhism again, only under that modified\nform which it assumed when introduced from India into China. After\nthis sketch of the religious life of China, the most ancient centre of\nEastern civilisation, Mr. Hardwick suddenly transports us to the New\nWorld, and introduces us to the worship of the wild tribes of America,\nand to the ruins of the ancient temples in which the civilised races\nof that continent, especially the Mexicans, once bowed themselves down\nbefore their god or gods. Lastly, we have to embark on the South Sea,\nand to visit the various islands which form a chain between the west\ncoast of America and the east coast of Africa, stretching over half of\nthe globe, and inhabited by the descendants of the once united race of\nthe Malayo-Polynesians.\n\n[Footnote 31: 'Christ and other Masters.' An Historical Inquiry into\nsome of the chief Parallelisms and Contrasts between Christianity and\nthe Religious Systems of the Ancient World, with special reference to\nprevailing Difficulties and Objections. By Charles Hardwick, M.A.,\nChristian Advocate in the University of Cambridge. Parts I, II, III.\nCambridge, 1858.]\n\nThe account which Mr. Hardwick can afford to give of the various\nsystems of religion in so short a compass as he has fixed for himself,\nmust necessarily be very general; and his remarks on the merits and\ndefects peculiar to each, which were more ample in the second volume,\nhave dwindled down to much smaller dimensions in the third. He\ndeclares distinctly that he does not write for missionaries. 'It is\nnot my leading object,' he says, 'to conciliate the more thoughtful\nminds of heathendom in favour of the Christian faith. However laudable\nthat task may be, however fitly it may occupy the highest and the\nkeenest intellect of persons who desire to further the advance of\ntruth and holiness among our heathen fellow-subjects, there are\ndifficulties nearer home which may in fairness be regarded as\npossessing prior claims on the attention of a Christian Advocate.'\n\nWe confess that we regret that Mr. Hardwick should have taken this\nline. If, in writing his criticism on the ancient or modern systems of\nPagan religion, he had placed himself face to face with a poor\nhelpless creature, such as the missionaries have to deal with--a man\nbrought up in the faith of his fathers, accustomed to call his god or\ngods by names sacred to him from his first childhood--a man who had\nderived much real help and consolation from his belief in these\ngods--who had abstained from committing crime, because he was afraid\nof the anger of a Divine Being--who had performed severe penance,\nbecause he hoped to appease the anger of the gods--who had given, not\nonly the tenth part of all he valued most, but the half, nay, the\nwhole of his property, as a free offering to his priests, that they\nmight pray for him or absolve him from his sin--if, in discussing any\nof the ancient or modern systems of Pagan religion, Mr. Hardwick had\ntried to address his arguments to such a person, we believe he would\nhimself have felt a more human, real, and hearty interest in his\nsubject. He would more earnestly have endeavoured to find out the good\nelements in every form of religious belief. No sensible missionary\ncould bring himself to tell a man who has done all that he could do,\nand more than many who have received the true light of the Gospel,\nthat he was excluded from all hope of salvation, and by his very birth\nand colour handed over irretrievably to eternal damnation. It is\npossible to put a charitable interpretation on many doctrines of\nancient heathenism, and the practical missionary is constantly obliged\nto do so. Let us only consider what these doctrines are. They are not\ntheories devised by men who wish to keep out the truth of\nChristianity, but sacred traditions which millions of human beings are\nborn and brought up to believe in, as we are born and brought up to\nbelieve in Christianity. It is the only spiritual food which God in\nhis wisdom has placed within their reach. But if we once begin to\nthink of modern heathenism, and how certain tenets of Lao-tse resemble\nthe doctrines of Comte or Spinoza, our equanimity, our historical\njustice, our Christian charity, are gone. We become advocates\nwrangling for victory--we are no longer tranquil observers,\ncompassionate friends and teachers. Mr. Hardwick sometimes addresses\nhimself to men like Lao-tse or Buddha, who are now dead and gone more\nthan two thousand years, in a tone of offended orthodoxy, which may or\nmay not be right in modern controversy, but which entirely disregards\nthe fact that it has pleased God to let these men and millions of\nhuman beings be born on earth without a chance of ever hearing of the\nexistence of the Gospel. We cannot penetrate into the secrets of the\nDivine wisdom, but we are bound to believe that God has His purpose in\nall things, and that He will know how to judge those to whom so little\nhas been given. Christianity does not require of us that we should\ncriticise, with our own small wisdom, that Divine policy which has\ngoverned the whole world from the very beginning. We pity a man who is\nborn blind--we are not angry with him; and Mr. Hardwick, in his\narguments against the tenets of Buddha or Lao-tse, seems to us to\ntreat these men too much in the spirit of a policeman who tells a poor\nblind beggar that he is only shamming blindness. However, if, as a\nChristian Advocate, Mr. Hardwick found it impossible to entertain, or\nat least express, any sympathy with the Pagan world, even the cold\njudgment of the historian would have been better than the excited\npleading of a partisan. Surely it is not necessary, in order to prove\nthat our religion is the only true religion, that we should insist on\nthe utter falseness of all other forms of belief. We need not be\nfrightened if we discover traces of truth, traces even of Christian\ntruth, among the sages and lawgivers of other nations. St. Augustine\nwas not frightened by this discovery, and every thoughtful Christian\nwill feel cheered by the words of that pious philosopher, when he\nboldly declares, that there is no religion which, among its many\nerrors, does not contain some real and divine truth. It shows a want\nof faith in God, and in His inscrutable wisdom in the government of\nthe world, if we think we ought to condemn all ancient forms of faith,\nexcept the religion of the Jews. A true spirit of Christianity will\nrather lead us to shut our eyes against many things which are\nrevolting to us in the religion of the Chinese, or the wild Americans,\nor the civilised Hindus, and to try to discover, as well as we can,\nhow even in these degraded forms of worship a spark of light lies\nhidden somewhere--a spark which may lighten and warm the heart of the\nGentiles, 'who by patient continuance in well-doing, seek for glory,\nand honour, and immortality.' There is an undercurrent of thought in\nMr. Hardwick's book which breaks out again and again, and which has\ncertainly prevented him from discovering many a deep lesson which may\nbe learnt in the study of ancient religions. He uses harsh language,\nbecause he is thinking, not of the helpless Chinese, or the dreaming\nHindu whose tenets he controverts, but of modern philosophers; and he\nis evidently glad of every opportunity where he can show to the latter\nthat their systems are mere _rechauffes_ of ancient heathenism. Thus\nhe says, in his introduction to the third volume:\n\n     'I may also be allowed to add, that, in the present\n     chapters, the more thoughtful reader will not fail to\n     recognise the proper tendency of certain current\n     speculations, which are recommended to us on the ground that\n     they accord entirely with the last discoveries of science,\n     and embody the deliberate verdicts of the oracle within us.\n     Notwithstanding all that has been urged in their behalf,\n     those theories are little more than a return to\n     long-exploded errors, a resuscitation of extinct volcanoes;\n     or at best, they merely offer to introduce among us an array\n     of civilising agencies, which, after trial in other\n     countries, have been all found wanting. The governing class\n     of China, for example, have long been familiar with the\n     metaphysics of Spinoza. They have also carried out the\n     social principles of M. Comte upon the largest possible\n     scale. For ages they have been what people of the present\n     day are wishing to become in Europe, with this difference\n     only, that the heathen legislator who had lost all faith in\n     God attempted to redress the wrongs and elevate the moral\n     status of his subjects by the study of political science, or\n     devising some new scheme of general sociology; while the\n     positive philosopher of the present day, who has relapsed\n     into the same positions, is in every case rejecting a\n     religious system which has proved itself the mightiest of\n     all civilisers, and the constant champion of the rights and\n     dignity of men. He offers in the stead of Christianity a\n     specious phase of paganism, by which the nineteenth century\n     after Christ may be assimilated to the golden age of Mencius\n     and Confucius; or, in other words, may consummate its\n     religious freedom, and attain the highest pinnacle of human\n     progress, by reverting to a state of childhood and of moral\n     imbecility.'\n\nFew serious-minded persons will like the temper of this paragraph. The\nhistory of ancient religion is too important, too sacred a subject to\nbe used as a masked battery against modern infidelity. Nor should a\nChristian Advocate ever condescend to defend his cause by arguments\nsuch as a pleader who is somewhat sceptical as to the merits of his\ncase, may be allowed to use, but which produce on the mind of the\nJudge the very opposite effect of that which they are intended to\nproduce. If we want to understand the religions of antiquity, we must\ntry, as well as we can, to enter into the religious, moral, and\npolitical atmosphere of the ancient world. We must do what the\nhistorian does. We must become ancients ourselves, otherwise we shall\nnever understand the motives and meaning of their faith. Take one\ninstance. There are some nations who have always regarded death with\nthe utmost horror. Their whole religion may be said to be a fight\nagainst death, and the chief object of their prayers seems to be a\nlong life on earth. The Persian clings to life with intense tenacity,\nand the same feeling exists among the Jews. Other nations, on the\ncontrary, regard death in a different light. Death is to them a\npassage from one life to another. No misgiving has ever entered their\nminds as to a possible extinction of existence, and at the first call\nof the priest--nay, sometimes from a mere selfish yearning after a\nbetter life--they are ready to put an end to their existence on earth.\nFeelings of this kind can hardly be called convictions arrived at by\nthe individual. They are national peculiarities, and they exercise an\nirresistible sway over all who belong to the same nation. The loyal\ndevotion which the Slavonic nations feel for their sovereign will\nmake the most brutalized Russian peasant step into the place where\nhis comrade has just been struck down, without a thought of his wife,\nor his mother, or his children, whom he is never to see again. He does\nnot do this because, by his own reflection, he has arrived at the\nconclusion that he is bound to sacrifice himself for his emperor or\nfor his country--he does it because he knows that every one would do\nthe same; and the only feeling of satisfaction in which he would allow\nhimself to indulge is, that he was doing his duty. If, then, we wish\nto understand the religions of the ancient nations of the world, we\nmust take into account their national character. Nations who value\nlife so little as the Hindus, and some of the American and Malay\nnations, could not feel the same horror of human sacrifices, for\ninstance, which would be felt by a Jew; and the voluntary death of the\nwidow would inspire her nearest relations with no other feeling but\nthat of compassion and regret at seeing a young bride follow her\nhusband into a distant land. She herself would feel that, in following\nher husband into death, she was only doing what every other widow\nwould do--she was only doing her duty. In India, where men in the\nprime of life throw themselves under the car of Jaggernath, to be\ncrushed to death by the idol they believe in--where the plaintiff who\ncannot get redress starves himself to death at the door of his\njudge--where the philosopher who thinks he has learnt all which this\nworld can teach him, and who longs for absorption into the Deity,\nquietly steps into the Ganges, in order to arrive at the other shore\nof existence--in such a country, however much we may condemn these\npractices, we must be on our guard and not judge the strange religions\nof such strange creatures according to our own more sober code of\nmorality. Let a man once be impressed with a belief that this life is\nbut a prison, and that he has but to break through its walls in order\nto breathe the fresh and pure air of a higher life--let him once\nconsider it cowardice to shrink from this act, and a proof of courage\nand of a firm faith in God to rush back to that eternal source from\nwhence he came--and let these views be countenanced by a whole nation,\nsanctioned by priests, and hallowed by poets, and however we may blame\nand loathe the custom of human sacrifices and religious suicides, we\nshall be bound to confess that to such a man, and to a whole nation of\nsuch men, the most cruel rites will have a very different meaning from\nwhat they would have to us. They are not mere cruelty and brutality.\nThey contain a religious element, and presuppose a belief in\nimmortality, and an indifference with regard to worldly pleasures,\nwhich, if directed in a different channel, might produce martyrs and\nheroes. Here, at least, there is no danger of modern heresy aping\nancient paganism; and we feel at liberty to express our sympathy and\ncompassion, even with the most degraded of our brethren. The Fijians,\nfor instance, commit almost every species of atrocity; but we can\nstill discover, as Wilkes remarked in his 'Exploring Expedition,' that\nthe source of many of their abhorrent practices is a belief in a\nfuture state, guided by no just notions of religious or moral\nobligations. They immolate themselves; they think it right to destroy\ntheir best friends, to free them from the miseries of this life; they\nactually consider it a duty, and perhaps a painful duty, that the son\nshould strangle his parents, if requested to do so. Some of the\nFijians, when interrupted by Europeans in the act of strangling their\nmother, simply replied that she was their mother, and they were her\nchildren, and they ought to put her to death. On reaching the grave\nthe mother sat down, when they all, including children, grandchildren,\nrelations, and friends, took an affectionate leave of her. A rope,\nmade of twisted tapa, was then passed twice around her neck by her\nsons, who took hold of it and strangled her--after which she was put\ninto her grave, with the usual ceremonies. They returned to feast and\nmourn, after which she was entirely forgotten, as though she had not\nexisted. No doubt these are revolting rites; but the phase of human\nthought which they disclose is far from being simply revolting. There\nis in these immolations, even in their most degraded form, a grain of\nthat superhuman faith which we admire in the temptation of Abraham;\nand we feel that the time will come, nay, that it is coming, when the\nvoice of the Angel of the Lord will reach those distant islands, and\ngive a higher and better purpose to the wild ravings of their\nreligion.\n\nIt is among these tribes that the missionary, if he can speak a\nlanguage which they understand, gains the most rapid influence. But he\nmust first learn himself to understand the nature of these savages,\nand to translate the wild yells of their devotion into articulate\nlanguage. There is, perhaps, no race of men so low and degraded as the\nPapuas. It has frequently been asserted they had no religion at all.\nAnd yet these same Papuas, if they want to know whether what they are\ngoing to undertake is right or wrong, squat before their karwar, clasp\nthe hands over the forehead, and bow repeatedly, at the same time\nstating their intentions. If they are seized with any nervous feeling\nduring this process, it is considered as a bad sign, and the project\nis abandoned for a time--if otherwise, the idol is supposed to\napprove. Here we have but to translate what they in their helpless\nlanguage call 'nervous feeling' by our word 'conscience,' and we shall\nnot only understand what they really mean, but confess, perhaps, that\nit would be well for us if in our own hearts the karwar occupied the\nsame prominent place which it occupies in the cottage of every Papua.\n\n_March, 1858._\n\n\n\n\nIII.\n\nTHE VEDA AND ZEND-AVESTA.\n\n\nTHE VEDA.\n\n\nThe main stream of the Aryan nations has always flowed towards the\nnorth-west. No historian can tell us by what impulse these adventurous\nNomads were driven on through Asia towards the isles and shores of\nEurope. The first start of this world-wide migration belongs to a\nperiod far beyond the reach of documentary history; to times when the\nsoil of Europe had not been trodden by either Celts, Germans,\nSlavonians, Romans, or Greeks. But whatever it was, the impulse was as\nirresistible as the spell which, in our own times, sends the Celtic\ntribes towards the prairies or the regions of gold across the\nAtlantic. It requires a strong will, or a great amount of inertness,\nto be able to withstand the impetus of such national, or rather\nethnical, movements. Few will stay behind when all are going. But to\nlet one's friends depart, and then to set out ourselves--to take a\nroad which, lead where it may, can never lead us to join those again\nwho speak our language and worship our gods--is a course which only\nmen of strong individuality and great self-dependence are capable of\npursuing. It was the course adopted by the southern branch of the\nAryan family, the Brahmanic Aryas of India and the Zoroastrians of\nIran.\n\nAt the first dawn of traditional history we see these Aryan tribes\nmigrating across the snow of the Himalaya southward towards the 'Seven\nRivers' (the Indus, the five rivers of the Penjab, and the Sarasvati),\nand ever since India has been called their home. That before this time\nthey had been living in more northern regions, within the same\nprecincts with the ancestors of the Greeks, the Italians, Slavonians,\nGermans, and Celts, is a fact as firmly established as that the\nNormans of William the Conqueror were the Northmen of Scandinavia. The\nevidence of language is irrefragable, and it is the only evidence\nworth listening to with regard to ante-historical periods. It would\nhave been next to impossible to discover any traces of relationship\nbetween the swarthy natives of India and their conquerors whether\nAlexander or Clive, but for the testimony borne by language. What\nother evidence could have reached back to times when Greece was not\nyet peopled by Greeks, nor India by Hindus? Yet these are the times of\nwhich we are speaking. What authority would have been strong enough to\npersuade the Grecian army, that their gods and their hero ancestors\nwere the same as those of king Porus, or to convince the English\nsoldier that the same blood might be running in his veins and in the\nveins of the dark Bengalese? And yet there is not an English jury\nnow-a-days, which, after examining the hoary documents of language,\nwould reject the claim of a common descent and a spiritual\nrelationship between Hindu, Greek, and Teuton. Many words still live\nin India and in England that have witnessed the first separation of\nthe northern and southern Aryans, and these are witnesses not to be\nshaken by any cross-examination. The terms for God, for house, for\nfather, mother, son, daughter, for dog and cow, for heart and tears,\nfor axe and tree, identical in all the Indo-European idioms, are like\nthe watchwords of soldiers. We challenge the seeming stranger; and\nwhether he answer with the lips of a Greek, a German, or an Indian, we\nrecognise him as one of ourselves. Though the historian may shake his\nhead, though the physiologist may doubt, and the poet scorn the idea,\nall must yield before the facts furnished by language. There was a\ntime when the ancestors of the Celts, the Germans, the Slavonians, the\nGreeks and Italians, the Persians and Hindus, were living together\nbeneath the same roof, separate from the ancestors of the Semitic and\nTuranian races.\n\nIt is more difficult to prove that the Hindu was the last to leave\nthis common home, that he saw his brothers all depart towards the\nsetting sun, and that then, turning towards the south and the east, he\nstarted alone in search of a new world. But as in his language and in\nhis grammar he has preserved something of what seems peculiar to each\nof the northern dialects singly, as he agrees with the Greek and the\nGerman where the Greek and the German differ from all the rest, and as\nno other language has carried off so large a share of the common Aryan\nheirloom--whether roots, grammar, words, mythes, or legends--it is\nnatural to suppose that, though perhaps the eldest brother, the Hindu\nwas the last to leave the central home of the Aryan family.\n\nThe Aryan nations who pursued a north-westerly direction, stand before\nus in history as the principal nations of north-western Asia and\nEurope. They have been the prominent actors in the great drama of\nhistory, and have carried to their fullest growth all the elements of\nactive life with which our nature is endowed. They have perfected\nsociety and morals, and we learn from their literature and works of\nart the elements of science, the laws of art, and the principles of\nphilosophy. In continual struggle with each other and with Semitic and\nTuranian races, these Aryan nations have become the rulers of history,\nand it seems to be their mission to link all parts of the world\ntogether by the chains of civilisation, commerce, and religion. In a\nword, they represent the Aryan man in his historical character.\n\nBut while most of the members of the Aryan family followed this\nglorious path, the southern tribes were slowly migrating towards the\nmountains which gird the north of India. After crossing the narrow\npasses of the Hindukush or the Himalaya, they conquered or drove\nbefore them, as it seems without much effort, the aboriginal\ninhabitants of the Trans-Himalayan countries. They took for their\nguides the principal rivers of Northern India, and were led by them to\nnew homes in their beautiful and fertile valleys. It seems as if the\ngreat mountains in the north had afterwards closed for centuries their\nCyclopean gates against new immigrations, while, at the same time, the\nwaves of the Indian Ocean kept watch over the southern borders of the\npeninsula. None of the great conquerors of antiquity,--Sesostris,\nSemiramis, Nebuchadnezzar, or Cyrus,--disturbed the peaceful seats of\nthese Aryan settlers. Left to themselves in a world of their own,\nwithout a past, and without a future before them, they had nothing but\nthemselves to ponder on. Struggles there must have been in India also.\nOld dynasties were destroyed, whole families annihilated, and new\nempires founded. Yet the inward life of the Hindu was not changed by\nthese convulsions. His mind was like the lotus leaf after a shower of\nrain has passed over it; his character remained the same, passive,\nmeditative, quiet, and thoughtful. A people of this peculiar stamp was\nnever destined to act a prominent part in the history of the world;\nnay, the exhausting atmosphere of transcendental ideas in which they\nlived could not but exercise a detrimental influence on the active and\nmoral character of the Indians. Social and political virtues were\nlittle cultivated, and the ideas of the useful and the beautiful\nhardly known to them. With all this, however, they had, what the Greek\nwas as little capable of imagining, as they were of realising the\nelements of Grecian life. They shut their eyes to this world of\noutward seeming and activity, to open them full on the world of\nthought and rest. The ancient Hindus were a nation of philosophers,\nsuch as could nowhere have existed except in India, and even there in\nearly times alone. It is with the Hindu mind as if a seed were placed\nin a hothouse. It will grow rapidly, its colours will be gorgeous, its\nperfume rich, its fruits precocious and abundant. But never will it be\nlike the oak growing in wind and weather, and striking its roots into\nreal earth, and stretching its branches into real air beneath the\nstars and the sun of heaven. Both are experiments, the hothouse flower\nand the Hindu mind; and as experiments, whether physiological or\npsychological, both deserve to be studied.\n\nWe may divide the whole Aryan family into two branches, the northern\nand the southern. The northern nations, Celts, Greeks, Romans,\nGermans, and Slavonians, have each one act allotted to them on the\nstage of history. They have each a national character to support. Not\nso the southern tribes. They are absorbed in the struggles of thought,\ntheir past is the problem of creation, their future the problem of\nexistence; and the present, which ought to be the solution of both,\nseems never to have attracted their attention, or called forth their\nenergies. There never was a nation believing so firmly in another\nworld, and so little concerned about this. Their condition on earth is\nto them a problem; their real and eternal life a simple fact. Though\nthis is said chiefly with reference to them before they were brought\nin contact with foreign conquerors, traces of this character are still\nvisible in the Hindus, as described by the companions of Alexander,\nnay, even in the Hindus of the present day. The only sphere in which\nthe Indian mind finds itself at liberty to act, to create, and to\nworship, is the sphere of religion and philosophy; and nowhere have\nreligious and metaphysical ideas struck root so deep in the mind of a\nnation as in India. The shape which these ideas took amongst the\ndifferent classes of society, and at different periods of\ncivilisation, naturally varies from coarse superstition to sublime\nspiritualism. But, taken as a whole, history supplies no second\ninstance where the inward life of the soul has so completely absorbed\nall the other faculties of a people.\n\nIt was natural, therefore, that the literary works of such a nation,\nwhen first discovered in Sanskrit MSS. by Wilkins, Sir W. Jones, and\nothers, should have attracted the attention of all interested in the\nhistory of the human race. A new page in man's biography was laid\nopen, and a literature as large as that of Greece or Rome was to be\nstudied. The Laws of Manu, the two epic poems, the Ramaya_n_a and\nMahabharata, the six complete systems of philosophy, works on\nastronomy and medicine, plays, stories, fables, elegies, and lyrical\neffusions, were read with intense interest, on account of their age\nnot less than their novelty.\n\nStill this interest was confined to a small number of students, and in\na few cases only could Indian literature attract the eyes of men who,\nfrom the summit of universal history, survey the highest peaks of\nhuman excellence. Herder, Schlegel, Humboldt, and Goethe, discovered\nwhat was really important in Sanskrit literature. They saw what was\ngenuine and original, in spite of much that seemed artificial. For the\nartificial, no doubt, has a wide place in Sanskrit literature.\nEverywhere we find systems, rules and models, castes and schools, but\nnowhere individuality, no natural growth, and but few signs of strong\noriginality and genius.\n\nThere is, however, one period of Sanskrit literature which forms an\nexception, and which will maintain its place in the history of\nmankind, when the name of Kalidasa and _S_akuntala will have been long\nforgotten. It is the most ancient period, the period of the Veda.\nThere is, perhaps, a higher degree of interest attaching to works of\nhigher antiquity; but in the Veda we have more than mere antiquity. We\nhave ancient thought expressed in ancient language. Without insisting\non the fact that even chronologically the Veda is the first book of\nthe Aryan nations, we have in it, at all events, a period in the\nintellectual life of man to which there is no parallel in any other\npart of the world. In the hymns of the Veda we see man left to himself\nto solve the riddle of this world. We see him crawling on like a\ncreature of the earth with all the desires and weaknesses of his\nanimal nature. Food, wealth, and power, a large family and a long\nlife, are the theme of his daily prayers. But he begins to lift up his\neyes. He stares at the tent of heaven, and asks who supports it? He\nopens his ears to the winds, and asks them whence and whither? He is\nawakened from darkness and slumber by the light of the sun, and him\nwhom his eyes cannot behold, and who seems to grant him the daily\npittance of his existence, he calls 'his life, his breath, his\nbrilliant Lord and Protector.' He gives names to all the powers of\nnature, and after he has called the fire Agni, the sun-light Indra,\nthe storms Maruts, and the dawn Ushas, they all seem to grow naturally\ninto beings like himself, nay, greater than himself. He invokes them,\nhe praises them, he worships them. But still with all these gods\naround him, beneath him, and above him, the early poet seems ill at\nrest within himself. There too, in his own breast, he has discovered a\npower that wants a name, a power nearer to him than all the gods of\nnature, a power that is never mute when he prays, never absent when he\nfears and trembles. It seems to inspire his prayers, and yet to\nlisten to them; it seems to live in him, and yet to support him and\nall around him. The only name he can find for this mysterious power is\nBrahman; for brahman meant originally force, will, wish, and the\npropulsive power of creation. But this impersonal brahman, too, as\nsoon as it is named, grows into something strange and divine. It ends\nby being one of many gods, one of the great triad, worshipped to the\npresent day. And still the thought within him has no real name; that\npower which is nothing but itself, which supports the gods, the\nheavens, and every living being, floats before his mind, conceived but\nnot expressed. At last he calls it Atman; for atman, originally breath\nor spirit, comes to mean Self and Self alone--Self whether divine or\nhuman, Self whether creating or suffering, Self whether one or all,\nbut always Self, independent and free. 'Who has seen the first-born,'\nsays the poet, 'when he who has no bones (i. e. form) bore him that\nhad bones? Where was the life, the blood, the Self of the world? Who\nwent to ask this from any that knew it?' (Rv.I. 164, 4). This idea of\na divine Self once expressed, everything else must acknowledge its\nsupremacy, 'Self is the Lord of all things, Self is the King of all\nthings. As all the spokes of a wheel are contained in the nave and the\ncircumference, all things are contained in this Self; all selves are\ncontained in this Self.[32] Brahman itself is but Self.'[33]\n\n[Footnote 32: B_r_ihad-ara_n_yaka, IV. 5, 15 ed. Roer, p. 487.]\n\n[Footnote 33: Ibid. p. 478. _K_handogya-upanishad, VIII. 3, 3-4.]\n\nThis Atman also grew; but it grew, as it were, without attributes. The\nsun is called the Self of all that moves and rests (Rv. I. 115, 1),\nand still more frequently self becomes a mere pronoun. But Atman\nremained always free from mythe and worship, differing in this from\nthe Brahman (neuter), who has his temples in India even now, and is\nworshipped as Brahman (masculine), together with Vish_n_u and _S_iva,\nand other popular gods. The idea of the Atman or Self, like a pure\ncrystal, was too transparent for poetry, and therefore was handed over\nto philosophy, which afterwards polished, and turned, and watched it\nas the medium through which all is seen, and in which all is reflected\nand known. But philosophy is later than the Veda, and it is of the\nVaidik period only I have here to speak.[34]\n\n[Footnote 34: In writing the above, I was thinking rather of the\nmental process that was necessary for the production of such words as\nbrahman, atman, and others, than of their idiomatic use in the ancient\nliterature of India. It might be objected, for instance, that brahman,\nneut. in the sense of creative power or the principal cause of all\nthings, does not occur in the Rig-veda. This is true. But it occurs in\nthat sense in the Atharva-veda, and in several of the Brahma_n_as.\nThere we read of 'the oldest or greatest Brahman which rules\neverything that has been or will be.' Heaven is said to belong to\nBrahman alone (Atharva-veda X. 8, 1). In the Brahma_n_as, this Brahman\nis called the first-born, the self-existing, the best of the gods, and\nheaven and earth are said to have been established by it. Even the\nvital spirits are identified with it (_S_atapatha-brahma_n_a VIII. 4,\n9, 3).\n\nIn other passages, again, this same Brahman is represented as existing\nin man (Atharva-veda X. 7, 17), and in this very passage we can watch\nthe transition from the neutral Brahman into Brahman, conceived of as\na masculine:\n\n    Ye purushe brahma vidus te vidu_h_ paramesh_t_hina_m_,\n    Yo veda paramesh_t_hina_m_, ya_s_ _k_a veda pra_g_apatim,\n    _G_yesh_t_ha_m_ ye brahma_n_a_m_ vidus, te skambham anu sa_m_vidu_h_.\n\n    'They who know Brahman in man, they know the Highest,\n    He who knows the Highest, and he who knows Pra_g_apati (the lord of\n        creatures),\n    And they who know the oldest Brahma_n_a, they know the Ground.'\n\nThe word Brahma_n_a which is here used, is a derivative form of\nBrahman; but what is most important in these lines is the mixing of\nneuter and masculine words, of impersonal and personal deities. This\nprocess is brought to perfection by changing Brahman, the neuter, even\ngrammatically into Brahman, a masculine,--a change which has taken\nplace in the Ara_n_yakas, where we find Brahman used as the name of a\nmale deity. It is this Brahman, with the accent on the first, not, as\nhas been supposed, brahman, the priest, that appears again in the\nlater literature as one of the divine triad, Brahman, Vish_n_u,\n_S_iva.\n\nThe word brahman, as a neuter, is used in the Rig-veda in the sense of\nprayer also, originally what bursts forth from the soul, and, in one\nsense, what is revealed. Hence in later times brahman is used\ncollectively for the Veda, the sacred word.\n\nAnother word, with the accent on the last syllable, is brahman, the\nman who prays, who utters prayers, the priest, and gradually the\nBrahman by profession. In this sense it is frequently used in the\nRig-veda (I. 108, 7), but not yet in the sense of Brahman by birth or\ncaste.]\n\nIn the Veda, then, we can study a theogony of which that of Hesiod is\nbut the last chapter. We can study man's natural growth, and the\nresults to which it may lead under the most favourable conditions. All\nwas given him that nature can bestow. We see him blest with the\nchoicest gifts of the earth, under a glowing and transparent sky,\nsurrounded by all the grandeur and all the riches of nature, with a\nlanguage 'capable of giving soul to the objects of sense, and body to\nthe abstractions of metaphysics.' We have a right to expect much from\nhim, only we must not expect in his youthful poems the philosophy of\nthe nineteenth century, or the beauties of Pindar, or, with some\nagain, the truths of Christianity. Few understand children, still\nfewer understand antiquity. If we look in the Veda for high poetical\ndiction, for striking comparisons, for bold combinations, we shall be\ndisappointed. These early poets thought more for themselves than for\nothers. They sought rather, in their language, to be true to their own\nthought than to please the imagination of their hearers. With them it\nwas a great work achieved for the first time to bind thoughts and\nwords together, to find expressions or to form new names. As to\nsimiles, we must look to the words themselves, which, if we compare\ntheir radical and their nominal meaning, will be found full of bold\nmetaphors. No translation in any modern language can do them justice.\nAs to beauty, we must discover it in the absence of all effort, and in\nthe simplicity of their hearts. Prose was, at that time, unknown, as\nwell as the distinction between prose and poetry. It was the attempted\nimitation of those ancient natural strains of thought which in later\ntimes gave rise to poetry in our sense of the word, that is to say, to\npoetry as an art, with its counted syllables, its numerous epithets,\nits rhyme and rhythm, and all the conventional attributes of 'measured\nthought.'\n\nIn the Veda itself, however--even if by Veda we mean the Rig-veda only\n(the other three, the Saman, Ya_g_ush, and Atharva_n_a, having solely\na liturgical interest, and belonging to an entirely different\nsphere)--in the Rig-veda also, we find much that is artificial,\nimitated, and therefore modern, if compared with other hymns. It is\ntrue that all the 1017 hymns of the Rig-veda were comprised in a\ncollection which existed as such before one of those elaborate\ntheological commentaries, known under the name of Brahma_n_a, was\nwritten, that is to say, about 800 B.C. But before the date of their\ncollection these must have existed for centuries. In different songs\nthe names of different kings occur, and we see several generations of\nroyal families pass away before us with different generations of\npoets. Old songs are mentioned, and new songs. Poets whose\ncompositions we possess are spoken of as the seers of olden times;\ntheir names in other hymns are surrounded by a legendary halo. In some\ncases, whole books or chapters may be pointed out as more modern and\nsecondary, in thought and language. But on the whole the Rig-veda is a\ngenuine document, even in its most modern portions not later than the\ntime of Lycurgus; and it exhibits one of the earliest and rudest\nphases in the history of mankind; disclosing in its full reality a\nperiod of which in Greece we have but traditions and names, such as\nOrpheus and Linus, and bringing us as near the beginnings in language,\nthought, and mythology as literary documents can ever bring us in the\nAryan world.\n\nThough much time and labour have been spent on the Veda, in England\nand in Germany, the time is not yet come for translating it as a\nwhole. It is possible and interesting to translate it literally, or in\naccordance with scholastic commentaries, such as we find in India from\nYaska in the fifth century B.C. down to Saya_n_a in the fourteenth\ncentury of the Christian era. This is what Professor Wilson has done\nin his translation of the first book of the Rig-veda; and by strictly\nadhering to this principle and excluding conjectural renderings even\nwhere they offered themselves most naturally, he has imparted to his\nwork a definite character and a lasting value. The grammar of the\nVeda, though irregular, and still in a rather floating state, has\nalmost been mastered; the etymology and the meaning of many words,\nunknown in the later Sanskrit, have been discovered. Many hymns, which\nare mere prayers for food, for cattle, or for a long life, have been\ntranslated, and can leave no doubt as to their real intention. But\nwith the exception of these simple petitions, the whole world of Vedic\nideas is so entirely beyond our own intellectual horizon, that instead\nof translating we can as yet only guess and combine. Here it is no\nlonger a mere question of skilful deciphering. We may collect all the\npassages where an obscure word occurs, we may compare them and look\nfor a meaning which would be appropriate to all; but the difficulty\nlies in finding a sense which we can appropriate, and transfer by\nanalogy into our own language and thought. We must be able to\ntranslate our feelings and ideas into their language at the same time\nthat we translate their poems and prayers into our language. We must\nnot despair even where their words seem meaningless and their ideas\nbarren or wild. What seems at first childish may at a happier moment\ndisclose a sublime simplicity, and even in helpless expressions we may\nrecognise aspirations after some high and noble idea. When the scholar\nhas done his work, the poet and philosopher must take it up and finish\nit. Let the scholar collect, collate, sift, and reject--let him say\nwhat is possible or not according to the laws of the Vaidik\nlanguage--let him study the commentaries, the Sutras, the Brahma_n_as,\nand even later works, in order to exhaust all the sources from which\ninformation can be derived. He must not despise the tradition of the\nBrahmans, even where their misconceptions and the causes of their\nmisconceptions are palpable. To know what a passage cannot mean is\nfrequently the key to its real meaning; and whatever reasons may be\npleaded for declining a careful perusal of the traditional\ninterpretations of Yaska or Saya_n_a, they can all be traced back to\nan ill-concealed argumentum paupertatis. Not a corner in the\nBrahma_n_as, the Sutras, Yaska, and Saya_n_a should be left unexplored\nbefore we venture to propose a rendering of our own. Saya_n_a, though\nthe most modern, is on the whole the most sober interpreter. Most of\nhis etymological absurdities must be placed to Yaska's account, and\nthe optional renderings which he allows for metaphysical, theological,\nor ceremonial purposes, are mostly due to his regard for the\nBrahma_n_as. The Brahma_n_as, though nearest in time to the hymns of\nthe Rig-veda, indulge in the most frivolous and ill-judged\ninterpretations. When the ancient Rishi exclaims with a troubled\nheart, 'Who is the greatest of the gods? Who shall first be praised by\nour songs?'--the author of the Brahma_n_a sees in the interrogative\npronoun 'Who' some divine name, a place is allotted in the sacrificial\ninvocations to a god 'Who,' and hymns addressed to him are called\n'Whoish' hymns. To make such misunderstandings possible, we must\nassume a considerable interval between the composition of the hymns\nand the Brahma_n_as. As the authors of the Brahma_n_as were blinded by\ntheology, the authors of the still later Niruktas were deceived by\netymological fictions, and both conspired to mislead by their\nauthority later and more sensible commentators, such as Saya_n_a.\nWhere Saya_n_a has no authority to mislead him, his commentary is at\nall events rational; but still his scholastic notions would never\nallow him to accept the free interpretation which a comparative study\nof these venerable documents forces upon the unprejudiced scholar. We\nmust therefore discover ourselves the real vestiges of these ancient\npoets; and if we follow them cautiously, we shall find that with some\neffort we are still able to walk in their footsteps. We shall feel\nthat we are brought face to face and mind to mind with men yet\nintelligible to us, after we have freed ourselves from our modern\nconceits. We shall not succeed always: words, verses, nay, whole hymns\nin the Rig-veda, will and must remain to us a dead letter. But where\nwe can inspire those early relics of thought and devotion with new\nlife, we shall have before us more real antiquity than in all the\ninscriptions of Egypt or Nineveh; not only old names and dates, and\nkingdoms and battles, but old thoughts, old hopes, old faith, and old\nerrors, the old Man altogether--old now, but then young and fresh, and\nsimple and real in his prayers and in his praises.\n\nThe thoughtful bent of the Hindu mind is visible in the Veda also, but\nhis mystic tendencies are not yet so fully developed. Of philosophy we\nfind but little, and what we find is still in its germ. The active\nside of life is more prominent, and we meet occasionally with wars of\nkings, with rivalries of ministers, with triumphs and defeats, with\nwar-songs and imprecations. Moral sentiments and worldly wisdom are\nnot yet absorbed by phantastic intuitions. Still the child betrays the\npassions of the man, and there are hymns, though few in number, in the\nVeda, so full of thought and speculation that at this early period no\npoet in any other nation could have conceived them. I give but one\nspecimen, the 129th hymn of the tenth book of the Rig-veda. It is a\nhymn which long ago attracted the attention of that eminent scholar H.\nT. Colebrooke, and of which, by the kind assistance of a friend, I am\nenabled to offer a metrical translation. In judging it we should bear\nin mind that it was not written by a gnostic or by a pantheistic\nphilosopher, but by a poet who felt all these doubts and problems as\nhis own, without any wish to convince or to startle, only uttering\nwhat had been weighing on his mind, just as later poets would sing the\ndoubts and sorrows of their heart.\n\n    Nor Aught nor Nought existed; yon bright sky\n    Was not, nor heaven's broad woof outstretched above.\n    What covered all? what sheltered? what concealed?\n    Was it the water's fathomless abyss?\n    There was not death--yet was there nought immortal,\n    There was no confine betwixt day and night;\n    The only One breathed breathless by itself,\n    Other than It there nothing since has been.\n    Darkness there was, and all at first was veiled\n    In gloom profound--an ocean without light--\n    The germ that still lay covered in the husk\n    Burst forth, one nature, from the fervent heat.\n    Then first came love upon it, the new spring\n    Of mind--yea, poets in their hearts discerned,\n    Pondering, this bond between created things\n    And uncreated. Comes this spark from earth\n    Piercing and all-pervading, or from heaven?\n    Then seeds were sown, and mighty powers arose--\n    Nature below, and power and will above--\n    Who knows the secret? who proclaimed it here,\n    Whence, whence this manifold creation sprang?\n    The Gods themselves came later into being--\n    Who knows from whence this great creation sprang?\n    He from whom all this great creation came,\n    Whether his will created or was mute,\n    The Most High Seer that is in highest heaven,\n    He knows it--or perchance even He knows not.\n\nThe grammar of the Veda (to turn from the contents to the structure of\nthe work) is important in many respects. The difference between it and\nthe grammar of the epic poems would be sufficient of itself to fix the\ndistance between these two periods of language and literature. Many\nwords have preserved in these early hymns a more primitive form, and\ntherefore agree more closely with cognate words in Greek or Latin.\nNight, for instance, in the later Sanskrit is ni_s_a, which is a form\npeculiarly Sanskritic, and agrees in its derivation neither with nox\nnor with [Greek: nyx]. The Vaidik na_s_ or nak, night, is as near to\nLatin as can be. Thus mouse in the common Sanskrit is mushas or\nmushika, both derivative forms if compared with the Latin mus, muris.\nThe Vaidik Sanskrit has preserved the same primitive noun in the\nplural mush-as = Lat. mures. There are other words in the Veda which\nwere lost altogether in the later Sanskrit, while they were preserved\nin Greek and Latin. Dyaus, sky, does not occur as a masculine in the\nordinary Sanskrit; it occurs in the Veda, and thus bears witness to\nthe early Aryan worship of Dyaus, the Greek Zeus. Ushas, dawn, again\nin the later Sanskrit is neuter. In the Veda it is feminine; and even\nthe secondary Vaidik form Ushasa is proved to be of high antiquity by\nthe nearly corresponding Latin form Aurora. Declension and conjugation\nare richer in forms and more unsettled in their usage. It was a\ncurious fact, for instance, that no subjunctive mood existed in the\ncommon Sanskrit. The Greeks and Romans had it, and even the language\nof the Avesta showed clear traces of it. There could be no doubt that\nthe Sanskrit also once possessed this mood, and at last it was\ndiscovered in the hymns of the Rig-veda. Discoveries of this kind may\nseem trifling, but they are as delightful to the grammarian as the\nappearance of a star, long expected and calculated, is to the\nastronomer. They prove that there is natural order in language, and\nthat by a careful induction laws can be established which enable us to\nguess with great probability either at the form or meaning of words\nwhere but scanty fragments of the tongue itself have come down to us.\n\n_October, 1853._\n\n\nTHE ZEND-AVESTA.\n\n\nBy means of laws like that of the Correspondence of Letters,\ndiscovered by Rask and Grimm, it has been possible to determine the\nexact form of words in Gothic, in cases where no trace of them\noccurred in the literary documents of the Gothic nation. Single words\nwhich were not to be found in Ulfilas have been recovered by applying\ncertain laws to their corresponding forms in Latin or Old High-German,\nand thus retranslating them into Gothic. But a much greater conquest\nwas achieved in Persia. Here comparative philology has actually had to\ncreate and reanimate all the materials of language on which it was\nafterwards to work. Little was known of the language of Persia and\nMedia previous to the Shahnameh of Firdusi, composed about 1000 A.D.,\nand it is due entirely to the inductive method of comparative\nphilology that we have now before us contemporaneous documents of\nthree periods of Persian language, deciphered, translated, and\nexplained. We have the language of the Zoroastrians, the language of\nthe Achaemenians, and the language of the Sassanians, which represent\nthe history of the Persian tongue in three successive periods--all now\nrendered intelligible by the aid of comparative philology, while but\nfifty years ago their very name and existence were questioned.\n\nThe labours of Anquetil Duperron, who first translated the\nZend-Avesta, were those of a bold adventurer--not of a scholar. Rask\nwas the first who, with the materials collected by Duperron and\nhimself, analysed the language of the Avesta scientifically. He\nproved--\n\n     1. That Zend was not a corrupted Sanskrit, as supposed by W.\n     Erskine, but that it differed from it as Greek, Latin, or\n     Lithuanian differed from one another and from Sanskrit.\n\n     2. That the modern Persian was really derived from Zend as\n     Italian was from Latin; and\n\n     3. That the Avesta, or the works of Zoroaster, must have\n     been reduced to writing at least previously to Alexander's\n     conquest. The opinion that Zend was an artificial language\n     (an opinion held by men of great eminence in Oriental\n     philology, beginning with Sir W. Jones) is passed over by\n     Rask as not deserving of refutation.\n\nThe first edition of the Zend texts, the critical restitution of the\nMSS., the outlines of a Zend grammar, with the translation and\nphilological anatomy of considerable portions of the Zoroastrian\nwritings, were the work of the late Eugene Burnouf. He was the real\nfounder of Zend philology. It is clear from his works, and from Bopp's\nvaluable remarks in his 'Comparative Grammar,' that Zend in its\ngrammar and dictionary is nearer to Sanskrit than any other\nIndo-European language. Many Zend words can be retranslated into\nSanskrit simply by changing the Zend letters into their corresponding\nforms in Sanskrit. With regard to the Correspondence of Letters in\nGrimm's sense of the word, Zend ranges with Sanskrit and the classical\nlanguages. It differs from Sanskrit principally in its sibilants,\nnasals, and aspirates. The Sanskrit s, for instance, is represented by\nthe Zend h, a change analogous to that of an original s into the\nGreek aspirate, only that in Greek this change is not general. Thus\nthe geographical name hapta hendu, which occurs in the Avesta, becomes\nintelligible if we retranslate the Zend h into the Sanskrit s. For\nsapta sindhu, or the Seven Rivers, is the old Vaidik name of India\nitself, derived from the five rivers of the Penjab, together with the\nIndus, and the Sarasvati.\n\nWhere Sanskrit differs in words or grammatical peculiarities from the\nnorthern members of the Aryan family, it frequently coincides with\nZend. The numerals are the same in all these languages up to 100. The\nname for thousand, however, sahasra, is peculiar to Sanskrit, and does\nnot occur in any of the Indo-European dialects except in Zend, where\nit becomes haza_n_ra. In the same manner the German and Slavonic\nlanguages have a word for thousand peculiar to themselves; as also in\nGreek and Latin we find many common words which we look for in vain in\nany of the other Indo-European dialects. These facts are full of\nhistorical meaning; and with regard to Zend and Sanskrit, they prove\nthat these two languages continued together long after they were\nseparated from the common Indo-European stock.\n\nStill more striking is the similarity between Persia and India in\nreligion and mythology. Gods unknown to any Indo-European nation are\nworshipped under the same names in Sanskrit and Zend; and the change\nof some of the most sacred expressions in Sanskrit into names of evil\nspirits in Zend, only serves to strengthen the conviction that we have\nhere the usual traces of a schism which separated a community that had\nonce been united.\n\nBurnouf, who compared the language and religion of the Avesta\nprincipally with the later classical Sanskrit, inclined at first to\nthe opinion that this schism took place in Persia, and that the\ndissenting Brahmans immigrated afterwards into India. This is still\nthe prevailing opinion, but it requires to be modified in accordance\nwith new facts elicited from the Veda. Zend, if compared with\nclassical Sanskrit, exhibits in many points of grammar, features of a\nmore primitive character than Sanskrit. But it can now be shown, and\nBurnouf himself admitted it, that when this is the case, the Vaidik\ndiffers on the very same points from the later Sanskrit, and has\npreserved the same primitive and irregular form as the Zend. I still\nhold, that the name of Zend was originally a corruption of the\nSanskrit word _k_handas (i. e. metrical language, cf. scandere),[35]\nwhich is the name given to the language of the Veda by Pa_n_ini and\nothers. When we read in Pa_n_ini's grammar that certain forms occur in\n_k_handas, but not in the classical language, we may almost always\ntranslate the word _k_handas by Zend, for nearly all these rules apply\nequally to the language of the Avesta.\n\n[Footnote 35: The derivation of _k_handas, metre, from the same root\nwhich yielded the Latin scandere, seems to me still the most\nplausible. An account of the various explanations of this word,\nproposed by Eastern and Western scholars, is to be found in Spiegel's\n'Grammar of the Parsi Language' (preface, and p. 205), and in his\ntranslation of the Vendidad (pp. 44 and 293). That initial _k_h in\nSanskrit may represent an original sk, has never, as far as I am\naware, been denied. (Curtius, 'Grundzuege,' p. 60.) The fact that the\nroot _k_hand, in the sense of stepping or striding, has not been fixed\nin Sanskrit as a verbal, but only as a nominal base, is no real\nobjection either. The same thing has happened over and over again, and\nhas been remarked as the necessary result of the dialectic growth of\nlanguage by so ancient a scholar as Yaska. ('Zeitschrift der Deutschen\nMorgenlaendischen Gesellschaft, vol. viii. p. 373 seq.) That scandere\nin Latin, in the sense of scanning is a late word, does not affect the\nquestion at all. What is of real importance is simply this, that the\nprincipal Aryan nations agree in representing metre as a kind of\nstepping or striding. Whether this arose from the fact that ancient\npoetry was accompanied by dancing or rhythmic choral movements, is a\nquestion which does not concern us here. (Carmen descindentes\ntripodaverunt in verba haec: Enos Lases, etc. Orelli, 'Inscript.' No.\n2271.) The fact remains that the people of India, Greece, and Italy\nagree in calling the component elements of their verses feet or steps\n([Greek: pous], pes, Sanskrit pad or pada; padapankti, a row of\nfeet, and _g_agati, i. e. andante, are names of Sanskrit metres). It\nis not too much, therefore, to say that they may have considered metre\nas a kind of stepping or striding, and that they may accordingly have\ncalled it 'stride.' If then we find the name for metre in Sanskrit\n_k_handas, i. e. skandas, and if we find that scando in Latin (from\nwhich sca(d)la), as we may gather from ascendo and descendo, meant\noriginally striding, and that skand in Sanskrit means the same as\nscando in Latin, surely there can be little doubt as to the original\nintention of the Sanskrit name for metre, viz. _k_handas. Hindu\ngrammarians derive _k_handas either from _k_had, to cover, or from\n_k_had, to please. Both derivations are possible, as far as the\nletters are concerned. But are we to accept the dogmatic\ninterpretation of the theologians of the _K_handogas, who tell us that\nthe metres were called _k_handas because the gods, when afraid of\ndeath, covered themselves with the metres? Or of the Va_g_asaneyins,\nwho tell us that the _k_handas were so called because they pleased\nPra_g_apati? Such artificial interpretations only show that the\nBrahmans had no traditional feeling as to the etymological meaning of\nthat word, and that we are at liberty to discover by the ordinary\nmeans its original intention. I shall only mention from among much\nthat has been written on the etymology of _k_handas, a most happy\nremark of Professor Kuhn, who traces the Northern skald, poet, back to\nthe same root as the Sanskrit _k_handas, metre. (Kuhn's 'Zeitschrift,'\nvol. iii. p. 428.)]\n\nIn mythology also, the 'nomina and numina' of the Avesta appear at\nfirst sight more primitive than in Manu or the Mahabharata. But if\nregarded from a Vaidik point of view, this relation shifts at once,\nand many of the gods of the Zoroastrians come out once more as mere\nreflections and deflections of the primitive and authentic gods of the\nVeda. It can now be proved, even by geographical evidence, that the\nZoroastrians had been settled in India before they immigrated into\nPersia. I say the Zoroastrians, for we have no evidence to bear us out\nin making the same assertion of the nations of Persia and Media in\ngeneral. That the Zoroastrians and their ancestors started from India\nduring the Vaidik period can be proved as distinctly as that the\ninhabitants of Massilia started from Greece. The geographical\ntraditions in the first Fargard of the Vendidad do not interfere with\nthis opinion. If ancient and genuine, they would embody a remembrance\npreserved by the Zoroastrians, but forgotten by the Vaidik poets--a\nremembrance of times previous to their first common descent into the\ncountry of the Seven Rivers. If of later origin, and this is more\nlikely, they may represent a geographical conception of the\nZoroastrians after they had become acquainted with a larger sphere of\ncountries and nations, subsequent to their emigration from the land of\nthe Seven Rivers.[36]\n\n[Footnote 36: The purely mythological character of this geographical\nchapter has been proved by M. Michel Breal, 'Journal Asiatique,'\n1862.]\n\nThese and similar questions of the highest importance for the early\nhistory of the Aryan language and mythology, however, must await their\nfinal decision, until the whole of the Veda and the Avesta shall have\nbeen published. Of this Burnouf was fully aware, and this was the\nreason why he postponed the publication of his researches into the\nantiquities of the Iranian nation. The same conviction is shared by\nWestergaard and Spiegel, who are each engaged in an edition of the\nAvesta, and who, though they differ on many points, agree in\nconsidering the Veda as the safest key to an understanding of the\nAvesta. Professor Roth, of Tuebingen, has well expressed the mutual\nrelation of the Veda and Zend-Avesta under the following simile: 'The\nVeda,' he writes, 'and the Zend-Avesta are two rivers flowing from one\nfountain-head: the stream of the Veda is the fuller and purer, and has\nremained truer to its original character; that of the Zend-Avesta has\nbeen in various ways polluted, has altered its course, and cannot,\nwith certainty, be traced back to its source.'\n\nAs to the language of the Achaemenians, presented to us in the Persian\ntext of the cuneiform inscriptions, there was no room for doubt, as\nsoon as it became legible at all, that it was the same tongue as that\nof the Avesta, only in a second stage of its continuous growth. The\nprocess of deciphering these bundles of arrows by means of Zend and\nSanskrit has been very much like deciphering an Italian inscription\nwithout a knowledge of Italian, simply by means of classical and\nmediaeval Latin. It would have been impossible, even with the quick\nperception and patient combination of a Grotefend, to read more than\nthe proper names and a few titles on the walls of the Persian palaces,\nwithout the aid of Zend and Sanskrit; and it seems almost\nprovidential, as Lassen remarked, that these inscriptions, which at\nany previous period would have been, in the eyes of either classical\nor oriental scholars, nothing but a quaint conglomerate of nails,\nwedges, or arrows, should have been rescued from the dust of centuries\nat the very moment when the discovery and study of Sanskrit and Zend\nhad enabled the scholars of Europe to grapple successfully with their\ndifficulties.\n\nUpon a closer inspection of the language and grammar of these mountain\nrecords of the Achaemenian dynasty, a curious fact came to light which\nseemed to disturb the historical relation between the language of\nZoroaster and the language of Darius. At first, historians were\nsatisfied with knowing that the edicts of Darius could be explained by\nthe language of the Avesta, and that the difference between the two,\nwhich could be proved to imply a considerable interval of time, was\nsuch as to exclude for ever the supposed historical identity of Darius\nHystaspes and Gushtasp, the mythical pupil of Zoroaster. The language\nof the Avesta, though certainly not the language of Zarathustra,[37]\ndisplayed a grammar so much more luxuriant, and forms so much more\nprimitive than the inscriptions, that centuries must have elapsed\nbetween the two periods represented by these two strata of language.\nWhen, however, the forms of these languages were subjected to a more\nsearching analysis, it became evident that the phonetic system of the\ncuneiform inscriptions was more primitive and regular than even that\nof the earlier portions of the Avesta. This difficulty, however,\nadmits of a solution; and, like many difficulties of the kind, it\ntends to confirm, if rightly explained, the very facts and views which\nat first it seemed to overthrow. The confusion in the phonetic system\nof the Zend grammar is no doubt owing to the influence of oral\ntradition. Oral tradition, particularly if confided to the safeguard\nof a learned priesthood, is able to preserve, during centuries of\ngrowth and change, the sacred accents of a dead language; but it is\nliable at least to the slow and imperceptible influences of a corrupt\npronunciation. Nowhere can we see this more clearly than in the Veda,\nwhere grammatical forms that had ceased to be intelligible, were\ncarefully preserved, while the original pronunciation of vowels was\nlost, and the simple structure of the ancient metres destroyed by the\nadoption of a more modern pronunciation. The loss of the Digamma in\nHomer is another case in point. There are no facts to prove that the\ntext of the Avesta, in the shape in which the Parsis of Bombay and\nYezd now possess it, was committed to writing previous to the\nSassanian dynasty (226 A.D.). After that time it can indeed be traced,\nand to a great extent be controlled and checked by the Huzvaresh\ntranslations made under that dynasty. Additions to it were made, as it\nseems, even after these Huzvaresh translations; but their number is\nsmall, and we have no reason to doubt that the text of the Avesta, in\nthe days of Arda Viraf, was on the whole exactly the same as at\npresent. At the time when these translations were made, it is clear\nfrom their own evidence that the language of Zarathustra had already\nsuffered, and that the ideas of the Avesta were no longer fully\nunderstood even by the learned. Before that time we may infer, indeed,\nthat the doctrine of Zoroaster had been committed to writing, for\nAlexander is said to have destroyed the books of the Zoroastrians,\nHermippus of Alexandria is said to have read them.[38] But whether on\nthe revival of the Persian religion and literature, that is to say 500\nyears after Alexander, the works of Zoroaster were collected and\nrestored from extant MSS., or from oral tradition, must remain\nuncertain, and the disturbed state of the phonetic system would rather\nlead us to suppose a long-continued influence of oral tradition. What\nthe Zend language might become, if entrusted to the guardianship of\nmemory alone, unassisted by grammatical study and archaeological\nresearch, may be seen at the present day, when some of the Parsis, who\nare unable either to read or write, still mutter hymns and prayers in\ntheir temples, which, though to them mere sound, disclose to the\nexperienced ear of an European scholar the time-hallowed accents of\nZarathustra's speech.\n\n[Footnote 37: Spiegel states the results of his last researches into\nthe language of the different parts of the Avesta in the following\nwords:\n\n'We are now prepared to attempt an arrangement of the different\nportions of the Zend-Avesta in the order of their antiquity. First, we\nplace the second part of the Ya_s_na, as separated in respect to the\nlanguage of the Zend-Avesta, yet not composed by Zoroaster himself,\nsince he is named in the third person; and indeed everything intimates\nthat neither he nor his disciple Gushtasp was alive. The second place\nmust unquestionably be assigned to the Vendidad. I do not believe that\nthe book was originally composed as it now stands: it has suffered\nboth earlier and later interpolations; still, its present form may be\ntraced to a considerable antiquity. The antiquity of the work is\nproved by its contents, which distinctly show that the sacred\nliterature was not yet completed.\n\n'The case is different with the writings of the last period, among\nwhich I reckon the first part of the Ya_s_na, and the whole of the\nYeshts. Among these a theological character is unmistakeable, the\nseparate divinities having their attributes and titles dogmatically\nfixed.\n\n'Altogether, it is interesting to trace the progress of religion in\nParsi writings. It is a significant fact, that in the oldest, that is\nto say, the second part of the Ya_s_na, nothing is fixed in the\ndoctrine regarding God. In the writings of the second period, that is\nin the Vendidad, we trace the advance to a theological, and, in its\nway, mild and scientific system. Out of this, in the last place, there\nsprings the stern and intolerant religion of the Sassanian\nepoch.'--From the Rev. J. Murray Mitchell's Translation.]\n\n[Footnote 38: 'Lectures on the Science of Language,' First Series, p.\n95.]\n\nThus far the history of the Persian language had been reconstructed by\nthe genius and perseverance of Grotefend, Burnouf, Lassen, and last,\nnot least, by the comprehensive labours of Rawlinson, from the\nante-historical epoch of Zoroaster down to the age of Darius and\nArtaxerxes II. It might have been expected that, after that time, the\ncontemporaneous historians of Greece would have supplied the sequel.\nUnfortunately the Greeks cared nothing for any language except their\nown; and little for any other history except as bearing on themselves.\nThe history of the Persian language after the Macedonian conquest and\nduring the Parthian occupation is indeed but a blank page. The next\nglimpse of an authentic contemporaneous document is the inscription of\nArdeshir, the founder of the new national dynasty of the Sassanians.\nIt is written, though, it may be, with dialectic difference, in what\nwas once called 'Pehlevi,' and is now more commonly known as\n'Huzvaresh,' this being the proper title of the language of the\ntranslations of the Avesta. The legends of Sassanian coins, the\nbilingual inscriptions of Sassanian emperors, and the translation of\nthe Avesta by Sassanian reformers, represent the Persian language in\nits third phase. To judge from the specimens given by Anquetil\nDuperron, it was not to be wondered at that this dialect, then called\nPehlevi, should have been pronounced an artificial jargon. Even when\nmore genuine specimens of it became known, the language seemed so\novergrown with Semitic and barbarous words, that it was expelled from\nthe Iranian family. Sir W. Jones pronounced it to be a dialect of\nChaldaic. Spiegel, however, who is now publishing the text of these\ntranslations, has established the fact that the language is truly\nAryan, neither Semitic nor barbarous, but Persian in roots and\ngrammar. He accounts for the large infusion of foreign terms by\npointing to the mixed elements in the intellectual and religious life\nof Persia during and before that period. There was the Semitic\ninfluence of Babylonia, clearly discernible even in the characters of\nthe Achaemenian inscriptions; there was the slow infiltration of Jewish\nideas, customs, and expressions, working sometimes in the palaces of\nPersian kings, and always in the bazars of Persian cities, on high\nroads and in villages; there was the irresistible power of the Greek\ngenius, which even under its rude Macedonian garb emboldened oriental\nthinkers to a flight into regions undreamed of in their philosophy;\nthere were the academies, the libraries, the works of art of the\nSeleucidae; there was Edessa on the Euphrates, a city where Plato and\nAristotle were studied, where Christian, Jewish, and Buddhist tenets\nwere discussed, where Ephraem Syrus taught, and Syriac translations\nwere circulated which have preserved to us the lost originals of Greek\nand Christian writers. The title of the Avesta under its Semitic form\nApestako, was known in Syria as well as in Persia, and the true name\nof its author, Zarathustra, is not yet changed in Syriac into the\nmodern Zerdusht. While this intellectual stream, principally flowing\nthrough Semitic channels, was irrigating and inundating the west of\nAsia, the Persian language had been left without literary cultivation.\nNeed we wonder, then, that the men, who at the rising of a new\nnational dynasty (226) became the reformers, teachers, and prophets of\nPersia, should have formed their language and the whole train of\ntheir ideas on a Semitic model. Motley as their language may appear to\na Persian scholar fresh from the Avesta or from Firdusi, there is\nhardly a language of modern Europe which, if closely sifted, would not\nproduce the same impression on a scholar accustomed only to the pure\nidiom of Homer, Cicero, Ulfilas, or Caedmon. Moreover; the soul of the\nSassanian language--I mean its grammar--is Persian and nothing but\nPersian; and though meagre when compared with the grammar of the\nAvesta, it is richer in forms than the later Parsi, the Deri, or the\nlanguage of Firdusi. The supposition (once maintained) that Pehlevi\nwas the dialect of the western provinces of Persia is no longer\nnecessary. As well might we imagine, (it is Spiegel's apposite\nremark,) that a Turkish work, because it is full of Arabic words,\ncould only have been written on the frontiers of Arabia. We may safely\nconsider the Huzvaresh of the translations of the Avesta as the\nlanguage of the Sassanian court and hierarchy. Works also like the\nBundehesh and Minokhired belong by language and thought to the same\nperiod of mystic incubation, when India and Egypt, Babylonia and\nGreece, were sitting together and gossiping like crazy old women,\nchattering with toothless gums and silly brains about the dreams and\njoys of their youth, yet unable to recall one single thought or\nfeeling with that vigour which once gave it life and truth. It was a\nperiod of religious and metaphysical delirium, when everything became\neverything, when Maya and Sophia, Mitra and Christ, Viraf and Isaiah,\nBelus, Zarvan, and Kronos were mixed up in one jumbled system of inane\nspeculation, from which at last the East was delivered by the\npositive doctrines of Mohammed, the West by the pure Christianity of\nthe Teutonic nations.\n\nIn order to judge fairly of the merits of the Huzvaresh as a language,\nit must be remembered that we know it only from these speculative\nworks, and from translations made by men whose very language had\nbecome technical and artificial in the schools. The idiom spoken by\nthe nation was probably much less infected by this Semitic fashion.\nEven the translators sometimes give the Semitic terms only as a\nparaphrase or more distinct expression side by side with the Persian.\nAnd, if Spiegel's opinion be right that Parsi, and not Huzvaresh, was\nthe language of the later Sassanian empire, it furnishes a clear proof\nthat Persian had recovered itself, had thrown off the Semitic\ningredients, and again become a pure and national speech. This dialect\n(the Parsi) also, exists in translations only; and we owe our\nknowledge of it to Spiegel, the author of the first Parsi grammar.\n\nThis third period in the history of the Persian language,\ncomprehending the Huzvaresh and Parsi, ends with the downfall of the\nSassanians. The Arab conquest quenched the last sparks of Persian\nnationality; and the fire-altars of the Zoroastrians were never to be\nlighted again, except in the oasis of Yezd and on the soil of that\ncountry which the Zoroastrians had quitted as the disinherited sons of\nManu. Still the change did not take place at once. Mohl, in his\nmagnificent edition of the Shahnameh, has treated this period\nadmirably, and it is from him that I derive the following facts. For a\ntime, Persian religion, customs, traditions, and songs survived in the\nhands of the Persian nobility and landed gentry (the Dihkans) who\nlived among the people, particularly in, the eastern provinces, remote\nfrom the capital and the seats of foreign dominion, Baghdad, Kufah,\nand Mosul. Where should Firdusi have collected the national strains of\nancient epic poetry which he revived in the Shahnameh (1000 A.D.), if\nthe Persian peasant and the Persian knight had not preserved the\nmemory of their old heathen heroes, even under the vigilant oppression\nof Mohammedan zealots? True, the first collection of epic traditions\nwas made under the Sassanians. But this work, commenced under\nNushirvan, and finished under Yezdegird, the last of the Sassanians,\nwas destroyed by Omar's command. Firdusi himself tells us how this\nfirst collection was made by the Dihkan Danishver. 'There was a\nPehlevan,' he says, 'of the family of the Dihkans, brave and powerful,\nwise and illustrious, who loved to study the ancient times, and to\ncollect the stories of past ages. He summoned from all the provinces\nold men who possessed portions of (i. e. who knew) an ancient work in\nwhich many stories were written. He asked them about the origin of\nkings and illustrious heroes, and how they governed the world which\nthey left to us in this wretched state. These old men recited before\nhim, one after the other, the traditions of the kings and the changes\nin the empire. The Dihkan listened, and composed a book worthy of his\nfame. This is the monument he left to mankind, and great and small\nhave celebrated his name.'\n\nThe collector of this first epic poem, under Yezdegird, is called a\nDihkan by Firdusi. Dihkan, according to the Persian dictionaries,\nmeans (1) farmer, (2) historian; and the reason commonly assigned for\nthis double meaning is, that the Persian farmers happened to be well\nread in history. Quatremere, however, has proved that the Dihkans were\nthe landed nobility of Persia; that they kept up a certain\nindependence, even under the sway of the Mohammedan Khalifs, and\nexercised in the country a sort of jurisdiction in spite of the\ncommissioners sent from Baghdad, the seat of the government. Thus\nDanishver even is called a Dihkan, although he lived previous to the\nArab conquest. With him, the title was only intended to show that it\nwas in the country and among the peasants that he picked up the\ntraditions and songs about Jemshid, Feridun, and Rustem. Of his work,\nhowever, we know nothing. It was destroyed by Omar; and, though it\nsurvived in an Arabic translation, even this was lost in later times.\nThe work, therefore, had to be recommenced when in the eastern\nprovinces of Persia a national, though no longer a Zoroastrian,\nfeeling began to revive. The governors of these provinces became\nindependent as soon as the power of the Khalifs, after its rapid rise,\nbegan to show signs of weakness. Though the Mohammedan religion had\ntaken root, even among the national party, yet Arabic was no longer\ncountenanced by the governors of the eastern provinces. Persian was\nspoken again at their courts, Persian poets were encouraged, and\nancient national traditions, stripped of their religious garb, began\nto be collected anew. It is said that Jacob, the son of Leis (870),\nthe first prince of Persian blood who declared himself independent of\nthe Khalifs, procured fragments of Danishver's epic, and had it\nrearranged and continued. Then followed the dynasty of the Samanians,\nwho claimed descent from the Sassanian kings. They, as well as the\nlater dynasty of the Gaznevides, pursued the same popular policy. They\nwere strong because they rested on the support of a national Persian\nspirit. The national epic poet of the Samanians was Dakiki, by birth a\nZoroastrian. Firdusi possessed fragments of his work, and has given a\nspecimen of it in the story of Gushtasp. The final accomplishment,\nhowever, of an idea, first cherished by Nushirvan, was reserved for\nMahmud the Great, the second king of the Gaznevide dynasty. By his\ncommand collections of old books were made all over the empire. Men\nwho knew ancient poems were summoned to the court. One of them was\nAder Berzin, who had spent his whole life in collecting popular\naccounts of the ancient kings of Persia. Another was Serv Azad, from\nMerv, who claimed descent from Neriman, and knew all the tales\nconcerning Sam, Zal, and Rustem, which had been preserved in his\nfamily. It was from these materials that Firdusi composed his great\nepic, the Shahnameh. He himself declares, in many passages of his\npoem, that he always followed tradition. 'Traditions,' he says, 'have\nbeen given by me; nothing of what is worth knowing has been forgotten.\nAll that I shall say, others have said before me: they plucked before\nme the fruits in the garden of knowledge.' He speaks in detail of his\npredecessors: he even indicates the sources from which he derives\ndifferent episodes, and it is his constant endeavour to convince his\nreaders that what he relates are not poetical inventions of his own.\nThus only can we account for the fact, first pointed out by Burnouf,\nthat many of the heroes in the Shahnameh still exhibit the traits,\nsadly distorted, it is true, but still unmistakeable, of Vaidik\ndeities, which had passed through the Zoroastrian schism, the\nAchaemenian reign, the Macedonian occupation, the Parthian wars, the\nSassanian revival, and the Mohammedan conquest, and of which the\nDihkans could still sing and tell, when Firdusi's poem impressed the\nlast stamp on the language of Zarathustra. Bopp had discovered\nalready, in his edition of Nalas (1832), that the Zend Viva_n_hvat was\nthe same as the Sanskrit Vivasvat; and Burnouf, in his 'Observations\nsur la Grammaire Comparee de M. Bopp,' had identified a second\npersonage, the Zend Kere_s_a_s_pa with the Sanskrit K_r_i_s_a_s_va.\nBut the similarity between the Zend Kere_s_a_s_pa and the Garshasp of\nthe Shahnameh opened a new and wide prospect to Burnouf, and\nafterwards led him on to the most striking and valuable results. Some\nof these were published in his last work on Zend, 'Etudes sur la\nLangue et les Textes Zends.' This is a collection of articles\npublished originally in the 'Journal Asiatique' between 1840 and 1846;\nand it is particularly the fourth essay, 'Le Dieu Homa,' which has\nopened an entirely new mine for researches into the ancient state of\nreligion and tradition common to the Aryans before their schism.\nBurnouf showed that three of the most famous names in the Shahnameh,\nJemshid, Feridun, and Garshasp, can be traced back to three heroes\nmentioned in the Zend-Avesta as the representatives of the three\nearliest generations of mankind, Yima Kshaeta, Thraetaona, and\nKere_s_a_s_pa; and that the prototypes of these Zoroastrian heroes\ncould be found again in the Yama, Trita, and K_r_i_s_a_s_va of the\nVeda. He went even beyond this. He showed that, as in Sanskrit, the\nfather of Yama is Vivasvat, the father of Yima in the Avesta is\nViva_n_hvat. He showed that as Thraetaona in Persia is the son of\nAthwya, the patronymic of Trita in the Veda is Aptya. He explained the\ntransition of Thraetaona into Feridun by pointing to the Pehlevi form\nof the name, as given by Neriosengh, Fredun. This change of an\naspirated dental into an aspirated labial, which by many is considered\na flaw in this argument, is of frequent occurrence. We have only to\nthink of [Greek: pher] and [Greek: ther], of dhuma and fumus, of\nmodern Greek [Greek: phelo] and [Greek: thelo]--nay, Menenius's 'first\ncomplaint' would suffice to explain it. Burnouf again identified\nZohak, the king of Persia, slain by Feridun, whom even Firdusi still\nknows by the name of Ash dahak, with the Azhi dahaka, the biting\nserpent, as he translates it, destroyed by Thraetaona in the Avesta;\nand with regard to the changes which these names, and the ideas\noriginally expressed by them, had to undergo on the intellectual stage\nof the Aryan nation, he says: 'Il est sans contredit fort curieux de\nvoir une des Divinites indiennes les plus venerees, donner son nom au\npremier souverain de la dynastie ariopersanne; c'est un des faits qui\nattestent le plus evidemment l'intime union des deux branches de la\ngrande famille qui s'est etendue, bien de siecles avant notre ere,\ndepuis le Gange jusqu'a l'Euphrate.'\n\nThe great achievements of Burnouf in this field of research have been\nso often ignored, and what by right belongs to him has been so\nconfidently ascribed to others, that a faithful representation of the\nreal state of the case, as here given, will not appear superfluous.\nThere is no intention, while giving his due to Burnouf, to detract\nfrom the merits of other scholars. Some more minute coincidences,\nparticularly in the story of Feridun, have subsequently been added by\nRoth, Benfey, and Weber. The first, particularly, has devoted two most\ninteresting articles to the identification of Yama-Yima-Jemshid and\nTrita-Thraetaona-Feridun. Trita, who has generally been fixed upon as\nthe Vaidik original of Feridun, because Traitana, whose name\ncorresponds more accurately, occurs but once in the Rig-veda, is\nrepresented in India as one of the many divine powers ruling the\nfirmament, destroying darkness, and sending rain, or, as the poets of\nthe Veda are fond of expressing it, rescuing the cows and slaying the\ndemons that had carried them off. These cows always move along the\nsky, some dark, some bright-coloured. They low over their pasture;\nthey are gathered by the winds; and milked by the bright rays of the\nsun, they drop from their heavy udders a fertilising milk upon the\nparched and thirsty earth. But sometimes, the poet says, they are\ncarried off by robbers and kept in dark caves near the uttermost ends\nof the sky. Then the earth is without rain; the pious worshipper\noffers up his prayer to Indra, and Indra rises to conquer the cows for\nhim. He sends his dog to find the scent of the cattle, and after she\nhas heard their lowing, she returns, and the battle commences. Indra\nhurls his thunderbolt; the Maruts ride at his side; the Rudras roar;\ntill at last the rock is cleft asunder, the demon destroyed, and the\ncows brought back to their pasture. This is one of the oldest mythes\nor sayings current among the Aryan nations. It appears again in the\nmythology of Italy, in Greece, in Germany. In the Avesta, the battle\nis fought between Thraetaona and Azhi dahaka, the destroying serpent.\nTraitana takes the place of Indra in this battle in one song of the\nVeda; more frequently it is Trita, but other gods also share in the\nsame honour. The demon, again, who fights against the gods is\nlikewise called Ahi, or the serpent, in the Veda. But the\ncharacteristic change that has taken place between the Veda and Avesta\nis that the battle is no longer a conflict of gods and demons for\ncows, nor of light and darkness for rain. It is the battle of a pious\nman against the power of evil. 'Le Zoroastrisme,' as Burnouf says, 'en\nse detachant plus franchement de Dieu et de la nature, a certainement\ntenu plus de compte de l'homme que n'a fait le Brahmanisme, et on peut\ndire qu'il a regagne en profondeur ce qu'il perdait en etendue. Il ne\nm'appartient pas d'indiquer ici ce qu'un systeme qui tend a developper\nles instincts les plus nobles de notre nature, et qui impose a\nl'homme, comme le plus important de ses devoirs, celui de lutter\nconstamment contre le principe du mal, a pu exercer d'influence sur\nles destinees des peuples de l'Asie, chez lesquels il a ete adopte a\ndiverses epoques. On peut cependant deja dire que le caractere\nreligieux et martial tout a la fois, qui parait avec des traits si\nheroiques dans la plupart des Jeshts, n'a pas du etre sans action sur\nla male discipline sous laquelle ont grandi les commencements de la\nmonarchie de Cyrus.'\n\nA thousand years after Cyrus (for Zohak is mentioned by Moses of\nKhorene in the fifth century) we find all this forgotten once more,\nand the vague rumours about Thraetaona and Azhi Dahaka are gathered at\nlast, and arranged and interpreted into something intelligible to\nlater ages. Zohak is a three-headed tyrant on the throne of\nPersia--three-headed, because the Vaidik Ahi was three-headed, only\nthat one of Zohak's heads has now become human. Zohak has killed\nJemshid of the Peshdadian dynasty: Feridun now conquers Zohak on the\nbanks of the Tigris. He then strikes him down with his cow-headed\nmace, and is on the point of killing him, when, as Firdusi says, a\nsupernatural voice whispered in his ear--[39]\n\n    Slay him not now, his time is not yet come,\n    His punishment must be prolonged awhile;\n    And as he cannot now survive the wound,\n    Bind him with heavy chains--convey him straight\n    Upon the mountain, there within a cave,\n    Deep, dark, and horrible--with none to soothe\n    His sufferings, let the murderer lingering die.\n    The work of heaven performing, Feridun\n    First purified the world from sin and crime.\n    Yet Feridun was not an angel, nor\n    Composed of musk and ambergris. By justice\n    And generosity he gained his fame.\n    Do thou but exercise these princely virtues,\n    And thou wilt be renowned as Feridun.\n\n[Footnote 39: Cf. Atkinson's Shahnameh, p. 48.]\n\nAs a last stage in the mythe of the Vaidik Traitana we may mention\nversions like those given by Sir John Malcolm and others, who see in\nZohak the representative of an Assyrian invasion lasting during the\nthousand years of Zohak's reign, and who change Feridun into Arbaces\nthe Mede, the conqueror of Sardanapalus. We may then look at the whole\nwith the new light which Burnouf's genius has shed over it, and watch\nthe retrograde changes of Arbaces into Feridun, of Feridun into\nPhredun, of Phredun into Thraetaona, of Thraetaona into\nTraitana,--each a separate phase in the dissolving view of mythology.\n\nAs to the language of Persia, its biography is at an end with the\nShahnameh. What follows exhibits hardly any signs of either growth or\ndecay. The language becomes more and more encumbered with foreign\nwords; but the grammar seems to have arrived at its lowest ebb, and\nwithstands further change. From this state of grammatical numbness,\nlanguages recover by a secondary formation, which grows up slowly and\nimperceptibly at first in the speech of the people; till at last the\nreviving spirit rises upwards, and sweeps away, like the waters in\nspring, the frozen surface of an effete government, priesthood,\nliterature, and grammar.\n\n_October, 1853._\n\n\n\n\nIV.\n\nTHE AITAREYA-BRAHMANA.[40]\n\n\nThe Sanskrit text, with an English translation of the\nAitareya-brahma_n_a, just published at Bombay by Dr. Martin Haug, the\nSuperintendent of Sanskrit Studies in the Poona College, constitutes\none of the most important additions lately made to our knowledge of\nthe ancient literature of India. The work is published by the Director\nof Public Instruction, in behalf of Government, and furnishes a new\ninstance of the liberal and judicious spirit in which Mr. Howard\nbestows his patronage on works of real and permanent utility. The\nAitareya-brahma_n_a, containing the earliest speculations of the\nBrahmans on the meaning of their sacrificial prayers, and the purport\nof their ancient religious rites, is a work which could be properly\nedited nowhere but in India. It is only a small work of about two\nhundred pages, but it presupposes so thorough a familiarity with all\nthe externals of the religion of the Brahmans, the various offices of\ntheir priests, the times and seasons of their sacred rites, the form\nof their innumerable sacrificial utensils, and the preparation of\ntheir offerings, that no amount of Sanskrit scholarship, such as can\nbe gained in England, would have been sufficient to unravel the\nintricate speculations concerning the matters which form the bulk of\nthe Aitareya-brahma_n_a. The difficulty was not to translate the text\nword for word, but to gain a clear, accurate, and living conception of\nthe subjects there treated. The work was composed by persons, and for\npersons, who, in a general way, knew the performance of the Vedic\nsacrifices as well as we know the performance of our own sacred rites.\nIf we placed the English Prayer-book in the hands of a stranger who\nhad never assisted at an English service, we should find that, in\nspite of the simplicity and plainness of its language, it failed to\nconvey to the uninitiated a clear idea of what he ought and what he\nought not to do in church. The ancient Indian ceremonial, however, is\none of the most artificial and complicated forms of worship that can\nwell be imagined; and though its details are, no doubt, most minutely\ndescribed in the Brahma_n_as and the Sutras, yet, without having seen\nthe actual site on which the sacrifices are offered, the altars\nconstructed for the occasion, the instruments employed by different\npriests--the _tout-ensemble_, in fact, of the sacred rites--the reader\nseems to deal with words, but with words only, and is unable to\nreproduce in his imagination the acts and facts which were intended to\nbe conveyed by them. Various attempts were made to induce some of the\nmore learned Brahmans to edit and translate some of their own rituals,\nand thus enable European scholars to gain an idea of the actual\nperformance of their ancient sacrifices, and to enter more easily into\nthe spirit of the speculations on the mysterious meaning of these\nrituals, which are embodied in the so-called Brahma_n_as, or 'the\nsayings of the Brahmans.' But although, thanks to the enlightened\nexertions of Dr. Ballantyne and his associates in the Sanskrit College\nof Benares, Brahmans might have been found knowing English quite\nsufficiently for the purpose of a rough and ready translation from\nSanskrit into English, such was their prejudice against divulging the\nsecrets of their craft that none could be persuaded to undertake the\nungrateful task. Dr. Haug tells us of another difficulty, which we had\nhardly suspected,--the great scarcity of Brahmans familiar with the\nancient Vedic ritual:\n\n     'Seeing the great difficulties, nay, impossibility of\n     attaining to anything like a real understanding of the\n     sacrificial art from all the numerous books I had collected,\n     I made the greatest efforts to obtain oral information from\n     some of those few Brahmans who are known by the name of\n     _S_rotriyas or _S_rautis, and who alone are the possessors\n     of the sacrificial mysteries as they descended from the\n     remotest times. The task was no easy one, and no European\n     scholar in this country before me ever succeeded in it. This\n     is not to be wondered at; for the proper knowledge of the\n     ritual is everywhere in India now rapidly dying out, and in\n     many parts, chiefly in those under British rule, it has\n     already died out.'\n\n[Footnote 40: 'The Aitareya-brahma_n_am of the Rig-veda,' edited and\ntranslated by Martin Haug, Ph.D., Superintendent of Sanskrit Studies\nin the Poona College. Bombay, 1863. London: Truebner & Co.]\n\nDr. Haug succeeded, however, at last in procuring the assistance of a\nreal Doctor of Divinity, who had not only performed the minor Vedic\nsacrifices, such as the full and new-moon offerings, but had\nofficiated at some of the great Soma sacrifices, now very rarely to be\nseen in any part of India. He was induced, we are sorry to say by very\nmercenary considerations, to perform the principal ceremonies in a\nsecluded part of Dr. Haug's premises. This lasted five days, and the\nsame assistance was afterwards rendered by the same worthy and some of\nhis brethren whenever Dr. Haug was in any doubt as to the proper\nmeaning of the ceremonial treatises which give the outlines of the\nVedic sacrifices. Dr. Haug was actually allowed to taste that sacred\nbeverage, the Soma, which gives health, wealth, wisdom, inspiration,\nnay immortality, to those who receive it from the hands of a\ntwice-born priest. Yet, after describing its preparation, all that Dr.\nHaug has to say of it is:\n\n     'The sap of the plant now used at Poona appears whitish, has\n     a very stringent taste, is bitter, but not sour; it is a\n     very nasty drink, and has some intoxicating effect. I tasted\n     it several times, but it was impossible for me to drink more\n     than some teaspoonfuls.'\n\nAfter having gone through all these ordeals, Dr. Haug may well say\nthat his explanations of sacrificial terms, as given in the notes, can\nbe relied upon as certain; that they proceed from what he himself\nwitnessed, and what he was able to learn from men who had inherited\nthe knowledge from the most ancient times. He speaks with some\nseverity of those scholars in Europe who have attempted to explain the\ntechnical terms of the Vedic sacrifices without the assistance of\nnative priests, and without even availing themselves carefully of the\ninformation they might have gained from native commentaries.\n\nIn the preface to his edition of the Aitareya-brahma_n_a, Dr. Haug has\nthrown out some new ideas on the chronology of Vedic literature which\ndeserve careful consideration. Beginning with the hymns of the\nRig-veda, he admits, indeed, that there are in that collection ancient\nand modern hymns, but he doubts whether it will be possible to draw a\nsharp line between what has been called the _K_handas period,\nrepresenting the free growth of sacred poetry, and the Mantra period,\nduring which the ancient hymns were supposed to have been collected\nand new ones added, chiefly intended for sacrificial purposes. Dr.\nHaug maintains that some hymns of a decidedly sacrificial character\nshould be ascribed to the earliest period of Vedic poetry. He takes,\nfor instance, the hymn describing the horse sacrifice, and he\nconcludes from the fact that seven priests only are mentioned in it by\nname, and that none of them belongs to the class of the Udgatars\n(singers) and Brahmans (superintendents), that this hymn was written\nbefore the establishment of these two classes of priests. As these\npriests are mentioned in other Vedic hymns, he concludes that the hymn\ndescribing the horse sacrifice is of a very early date. Dr. Haug\nstrengthens his case by a reference to the Zoroastrian ceremonial, in\nwhich, as he says, the chanters and superintendents are entirely\nunknown, whereas the other two classes, the Hotars (reciters) and\nAdhvaryus (assistants) are mentioned by the same names as Zaotar and\nRathwiskare. The establishment of the two new classes of priests\nwould, therefore, seem to have taken place in India after the\nZoroastrians had separated from the Brahmans; and Dr. Haug would\nascribe the Vedic hymns in which no more than two classes of priests\nare mentioned to a period preceding, others in which the other two\nclasses of priests are mentioned to a period succeeding, that ancient\nschism. We must confess, though doing full justice to Dr. Haug's\nargument, that he seems to us to stretch what is merely negative\nevidence beyond its proper limits. Surely a poet, though acquainted\nwith all the details of a sacrifice and the titles of all the priests\nemployed in it, might speak of it in a more general manner than the\nauthor of a manual, and it would be most dangerous to conclude that\nwhatever was passed over by him in silence did not exist at the time\nwhen he wrote. Secondly, if there were more ancient titles of priests,\nthe poet would most likely use them in preference to others that had\nbeen but lately introduced. Thirdly, even the ancient priestly titles\nhad originally a more general meaning before they were restricted to\ntheir technical significance, just as in Europe bishop meant\noriginally an overseer, priest an elder, deacon a minister. In several\nhymns, some of these titles--for instance, that of hotar, invoker--are\nclearly used as appellatives, and not as titles. Lastly, one of the\npriests mentioned in the hymn on the horse sacrifice, the Agnimindha,\nis admitted by Dr. Haug himself to be the same as the Agnidhra; and if\nwe take this name, like all the others, in its technical sense, we\nhave to recognise in him one of the four Brahman priests.[41] We\nshould thus lose the ground on which Dr. Haug's argument is chiefly\nbased, and should have to admit the existence of Brahman priests as\nearly at least as the time in which the hymn on the horse sacrifice\nwas composed. But, even admitting that allusions to a more or less\ncomplete ceremonial[42] could be pointed out in certain hymns, this\nmight help us no doubt in subdividing and arranging the poetry of the\nsecond or Mantra period, but it would leave the question, whether\nallusions to ceremonial technicalities are to be considered as\ncharacteristics of later hymns, entirely unaffected. Dr. Haug, who\nholds that, in the development of the human race, sacrifice comes\nearlier than religious poetry, formulas earlier than prayers,\nLeviticus earlier than the Psalms, applies this view to the\nchronological arrangement of Vedic literature; and he is, therefore,\nnaturally inclined to look upon hymns composed for sacrificial\npurposes, more particularly upon the invocations and formulas of the\nYa_g_ur-veda, and upon the Nivids preserved in the Brahma_n_as and\nSutras, as relics of greater antiquity than the free poetical\neffusions of the Rishis, which defy ceremonial rules, ignore the\nsettled rank of priests and deities, and occasionally allude to\nsubjects more appropriate for profane than for sacred poetry:\n\n     'The first sacrifices [he writes] were no doubt simple\n     offerings performed without much ceremonial. A few\n     appropriate solemn words, indicating the giver, the nature\n     of the offering, the deity to which, as well as the purpose\n     for which it was offered, were sufficient. All this would be\n     embodied in the sacrificial formulas known in later times\n     principally by the name of Ya_g_ush, whilst the older one\n     appears to have been Ya_g_ya. The invocation of the deity by\n     different names, and its invitation to enjoy the meal\n     prepared, may be equally old. It was justly regarded as a\n     kind of Ya_g_ush, and called Nigada or Nivid.'\n\n[Footnote 41: By an accident two lines containing the names of the\nsixteen priests in my 'History of Ancient Sanskrit Literature' (p.\n469) have been misplaced. Agnidhra and Pot_r_i ought to range with the\nBrahmans, Pratihart_r_i and Subrahma_n_ya with the Udgat_r_is. See\nA_s_val. Sutras IV. 1 (p. 286, 'Bibliotheca Indica'); and M. M.,\nTodtenbestattung, p. xlvi. It might be said, however, that the\nAgnimindha was meant as one of the Hotra_s_a_m_sins, or one of the\nSeven Priests, the Sapta Hotars. See Haug, Aitareya-brahma_n_a, vol.\ni. p. 58.]\n\n[Footnote 42: Many such allusions were collected in my 'History of\nAncient Sanskrit Literature,' p. 486 seq.; some of them have lately\nbeen independently discovered by others.]\n\nIn comparing these sacrificial formulas with the bulk of the Rig-veda\nhymns, Dr. Haug comes to the conclusion that the former are more\nancient. He shows that certain of these formulas and Nivids were known\nto the poets of the hymns, as they undoubtedly were; but this would\nonly prove that these poets were acquainted with these as well as with\nother portions of the ceremonial. It would only confirm the view\nadvocated by others, that certain hymns were clearly written for\nceremonial purposes, though the ceremonial presupposed by these hymns\nmay in many cases prove more simple and primitive than the ceremonial\nlaid down in the Brahma_n_as and Sutras. But if Dr. Haug tells us that\nthe Rishis tried their poetical talent first in the composition of\nYa_g_yas, or verses to be recited while an offering was thrown into\nthe fire, and that the Ya_g_yas were afterwards extended into little\nsongs, we must ask, is this fact or theory? And if we are told that\n'there can be hardly any doubt that the hymns which we possess are\npurely sacrificial, and made only for sacrificial purposes, and that\nthose which express more general ideas, or philosophical thoughts, or\nconfessions of sins, are comparatively late,' we can only repeat our\nformer question. Dr. Haug, when proceeding to give his proofs, that\nthe purely sacrificial poetry is more ancient than either profane\nsongs or hymns of a more general religious character, only produces\nsuch collateral evidence as may be found in the literary history of\nthe Jews and the Chinese--evidence which is curious, but not\nconvincing. Among the Aryan nations, it has hitherto been considered\nas a general rule that poetry precedes prose. Now the Ya_g_yas and\nNivids are prose, and though Dr. Haug calls it rhythmical prose, yet,\nas compared with the hymns, they are prose; and though such an\nargument by itself could by no means be considered as sufficient to\nupset any solid evidence to the contrary, yet it is stronger than the\nargument derived from the literature of nations who are neither of\nthem Aryan in language or thought.\n\nBut though we have tried to show the insufficiency of the arguments\nadvanced by Dr. Haug in support of his theory, we are by no means\nprepared to deny the great antiquity of some of the sacrificial\nformulas and invocations, and more particularly of the Nivids to which\nhe for the first time has called attention. There probably existed\nvery ancient Nivids or invocations, but are the Nivids which we\npossess the identical Nivids alluded to in the hymns? If so, why have\nthey no accents, why do they not form part of the Sanhitas, why were\nthey not preserved, discussed, and analysed with the same religious\ncare as the metrical hymns? The Nivids which we now possess may, as\nDr. Haug supposes, have inspired the Rishis with the burden of their\nhymns; but they may equally well have been put together by later\ncompilers from the very hymns of the Rishis. There is many a hymn in\nthe Sanhita of the Rig-veda which may be called a Nivid, i. e. an\ninvitation addressed to the gods to come to the sacrifices, and an\nenumeration of the principal names of each deity. Those who believe,\non more general grounds, that all religion began with sacrifice and\nsacrificial formulas will naturally look on such hymns and on the\nNivids as relics of a more primitive age; while others who look upon\nprayer, praise, and thanksgiving, and the unfettered expression of\ndevotion and wonderment as the first germs of a religious worship,\nwill treat the same Nivids as productions of a later age. We doubt\nwhether this problem can be argued on general grounds. Admitting that\nthe Jews began with sacrifice and ended with psalms, it would by no\nmeans follow that the Aryan nations did the same, nor would the\nchronological arrangement of the ancient literature of China help us\nmuch in forming an opinion of the growth of the Indian mind. We must\ntake each nation by itself, and try to find out what they themselves\nhold as to the relative antiquity of their literary documents. On\ngeneral grounds, the problem whether sacrifice or prayer comes first,\nmay be argued ad infinitum, just like the problem whether the hen\ncomes first or the egg. In the special case of the sacred literature\nof the Brahmans, we must be guided by their own tradition, which\ninvariably places the poetical hymns of the Rig-veda before the\nceremonial hymns and formulas of the Ya_g_ur-veda and Sama-veda. The\nstrongest argument that has as yet been brought forward against this\nview is, that the formulas of the Ya_g_ur-veda and the sacrificial\ntexts of the Sama-veda contain occasionally more archaic forms of\nlanguage than the hymns of the Rig-veda. It was supposed, therefore,\nthat, although the hymns of the Rig-veda might have been composed at\nan earlier time, the sacrificial hymns and formulas were the first to\nbe collected and to be preserved in the schools by means of a strict\nmnemonic discipline. The hymns of the Rig-veda, some of which have no\nreference whatever to the Vedic ceremonial, being collected at a later\ntime, might have been stripped, while being handed down by oral\ntradition, of those grammatical forms which in the course of time had\nbecome obsolete, but which, if once recognised and sanctioned in\ntheological seminaries, would have been preserved there with the most\nreligious care.\n\nAccording to Dr. Haug, the period during which the Vedic hymns were\ncomposed extends from 1400 to 2000 B.C. The oldest hymns, however, and\nthe sacrificial formulas he would place between 2000 and 2400 B.C.\nThis period, corresponding to what has been called the _K_handas and\nMantra periods, would be succeeded by the Brahma_n_a period, and Dr.\nHaug would place the bulk of the Brahma_n_as, all written in prose,\nbetween 1400 and 1200 B.C. He does not attribute much weight to the\ndistinction made by the Brahmans themselves between revealed and\nprofane literature, and would place the Sutras almost contemporaneous\nwith the Brahma_n_as. The only fixed point from which he starts in his\nchronological arrangement is the date implied by the position of the\nsolstitial points mentioned in a little treatise, the _G_yotisha, a\ndate which has been accurately fixed by the Rev. E. Main at 1186\nB.C.[43] Dr. Haug fully admits that such an observation was an\nabsolute necessity for the Brahmans in regulating their calendar:\n\n     'The proper time [he writes] of commencing and ending their\n     sacrifices, principally the so-called Sattras or sacrificial\n     sessions, could not be known without an accurate knowledge\n     of the time of the sun's northern and southern progress. The\n     knowledge of the calendar forms such an essential part of\n     the ritual, that many important conditions of the latter\n     cannot be carried out without the former. The sacrifices are\n     allowed to commence only at certain lucky constellations,\n     and in certain months. So, for instance, as a rule, no great\n     sacrifice can commence during the sun's southern progress;\n     for this is regarded up to the present day as an unlucky\n     period by the Brahmans, in which even to die is believed to\n     be a misfortune. The great sacrifices generally take place\n     in spring in the months of _K_aitra and Vai_s_akha (April\n     and May). The Sattras, which lasted for one year, were, as\n     one may learn from a careful perusal of the fourth book of\n     the Aitareya-brahma_n_a, nothing but an imitation of the\n     sun's yearly course. They were divided into two distinct\n     parts, each consisting of six months of thirty days each; in\n     the midst of both was the Vishuvat, i. e. equator or central\n     day, cutting the whole Sattra into two halves. The\n     ceremonies were in both halves exactly the same, but they\n     were in the latter half performed in an inverted order.'\n\n[Footnote 43: See preface to the fourth volume of my edition of the\nRig-veda.]\n\nThis argument of Dr. Haug's seems correct as far as the date of the\nestablishment of the ceremonial is concerned, and it is curious that\nseveral scholars who have lately written on the origin of the Vedic\ncalendar, and the possibility of its foreign origin, should not have\nperceived the intimate relation between that calendar and the whole\nceremonial system of the Brahmans. Dr. Haug is, no doubt, perfectly\nright when he claims the invention of the Nakshatras, or the Lunar\nZodiac of the Brahmans, if we may so call it, for India; he may be\nright also when he assigns the twelfth century as the earliest date\nfor the origin of that simple astronomical system on which the\ncalendar of the Vedic festivals is founded. He calls the theories of\nothers, who have lately tried to claim the first discovery of the\nNakshatras for China, Babylon, or some other Asiatic country, absurd,\nand takes no notice of the sanguine expectations of certain scholars,\nwho imagine they will soon have discovered the very names of the\nIndian Nakshatras in Babylonian inscriptions. But does it follow that,\nbecause the ceremonial presupposes an observation of the solstitial\npoints in about the twelfth century, therefore the theological works\nin which that ceremonial is explained, commented upon, and furnished\nwith all kinds of mysterious meanings, were composed at that early\ndate? We see no stringency whatever in this argument of Dr. Haug's,\nand we think it will be necessary to look for other anchors by which\nto fix the drifting wrecks of Vedic literature.\n\nDr. Haug's two volumes, containing the text of the\nAitareya-brahma_n_a, translation, and notes, would probably never have\nbeen published, if they had not received the patronage of the Bombay\nGovernment. However interesting the Brahma_n_as may be to students of\nIndian literature, they are of small interest to the general reader.\nThe greater portion of them is simply twaddle, and what is worse,\ntheological twaddle. No person who is not acquainted beforehand with\nthe place which the Brahma_n_as fill in the history of the Indian\nmind, could read more than ten pages without being disgusted. To the\nhistorian, however, and to the philosopher they are of infinite\nimportance--to the former as a real link between the ancient and\nmodern literature of India; to the latter as a most important phase\nin the growth of the human mind, in its passage from health to\ndisease. Such books, which no circulating library would touch, are\njust the books which Governments, if possible, or Universities and\nlearned societies, should patronise; and if we congratulate Dr. Haug\non having secured the enlightened patronage of the Bombay Government,\nwe may congratulate Mr. Howard and the Bombay Government on having, in\nthis instance, secured the services of a bona fide scholar like Dr.\nHaug.[44]\n\n_March, 1864._\n\n[Footnote 44: A few paragraphs in this review, in which allusion was\nmade to certain charges of what might be called 'literary rattening,'\nbrought by Dr. Haug against some Sanskrit scholars, and more\nparticularly against the editor of the 'Indische Studien' at Berlin,\nhave here been omitted, as no longer of any interest. They may be\nseen, however, in the ninth volume of that periodical, where my review\nhas been reprinted, though, as usual, very incorrectly. It was not I\nwho first brought these accusations, nor should I have felt justified\nin alluding to them, if the evidence placed before me had not\nconvinced me that there was some foundation for them. I am willing to\nadmit that the language of Dr. Haug and others may have been too\nsevere, but few will think that a very loud and boisterous denial is\nthe best way to show that the strictures were quite undeserved. If, by\nalluding to these matters and frankly expressing my disapproval of\nthem, I have given unnecessary pain, I sincerely regret it. So much\nfor the past. As to the future, care, I trust, will be taken,--for the\nsake of the good fame of German scholarship, which, though living in\nEngland, I have quite as much at heart as if living in Germany,--not\nto give even the faintest countenance to similar suspicions. If my\nremarks should help in producing that result, I shall be glad to bow\nmy head in silence under the vials of wrath that have been poured upon\nit.]\n\n\n\n\nV.\n\nON THE STUDY\n\nOF THE\n\nZEND-AVESTA IN INDIA.[45]\n\n\nSanskrit scholars resident in India enjoy considerable advantages over\nthose who devote themselves to the study of the ancient literature of\nthe Brahmans in this country, or in France and Germany. Although\nSanskrit is no longer spoken by the great mass of the people, there\nare few large towns in which we do not meet with some more or less\nlearned natives--the pandits, or, as they used to be called,\npundits--men who have passed through a regular apprenticeship in\nSanskrit grammar, and who generally devote themselves to the study of\nsome special branch of Sanskrit literature, whether law, or logic, or\nrhetoric, or astronomy, or anything else. These men, who formerly\nlived on the liberality of the Rajahs and on the superstition of the\npeople, find it more and more difficult to make a living among their\nown countrymen, and are glad to be employed by any civilian or\nofficer who takes an interest in their ancient lore. Though not\nscholars in our sense of the word, and therefore of little use as\nteachers of the language, they are extremely useful to more advanced\nstudents, who are able to set them to do that kind of work for which\nthey are fit, and to check their labours by judicious supervision. All\nour great Sanskrit scholars, from Sir William Jones to H.H. Wilson,\nhave fully acknowledged their obligations to their native assistants.\nThey used to work in Calcutta, Benares, and Bombay with a pandit at\neach elbow, instead of the grammar and the dictionary which European\nscholars have to consult at every difficult passage. Whenever an\nEnglish Sahib undertook to edit or translate a Sanskrit text, these\npandits had to copy and to collate MSS., to make a verbal index, to\nproduce parallel passages from other writers, and, in many cases, to\nsupply a translation into Hindustani, Bengali, or into their own\npeculiar English. In fact, if it had not been for the assistance thus\nfully and freely rendered by native scholars, Sanskrit scholarship\nwould never have made the rapid progress which, during less than a\ncentury, it has made, not only in India, but in almost every country\nof Europe.\n\n[Footnote 45: 'Essays on the Sacred Language, Writings, and Religion\nof the Parsees.' By Martin Haug, Dr. Phil. Bombay, 1862.]\n\nWith this example to follow, it is curious that hardly any attempt\nshould have been made by English residents, particularly in the Bombay\nPresidency, to avail themselves of the assistance of the Parsis for\nthe purpose of mastering the ancient language and literature of the\nworshippers of Ormuzd. If it is remembered that, next to Sanskrit,\nthere is no more ancient language than Zend--and that, next to the\nVeda, there is, among the Aryan nations, no more primitive religious\ncode than the Zend-Avesta, it is surprising that so little should have\nbeen done by the members of the Indian Civil Service in this important\nbranch of study. It is well known that such was the enthusiasm kindled\nin the heart of Anquetil Duperron by the sight of a facsimile of a\npage of the Zend-Avesta, that in order to secure a passage to India,\nhe enlisted as a private soldier, and spent six years (1754-1761) in\ndifferent parts of Western India, trying to collect MSS. of the sacred\nwritings of Zoroaster, and to acquire from the Dustoors a knowledge of\ntheir contents. His example was followed, though in a less adventurous\nspirit, by Rask, a learned Dane, who after collecting at Bombay many\nvaluable MSS. for the Danish Government, wrote in 1826 his essay 'On\nthe Age and Genuineness of the Zend Language.' Another Dane, at\npresent one of the most learned Zend scholars in Europe, Westergaard,\nlikewise proceeded to India (1841-1843), before he undertook to\npublish his edition of the religious books of the Zoroastrians.\n(Copenhagen, 1852.) During all this time, while French and German\nscholars, such as Burnouf, Bopp, and Spiegel, were hard at work in\ndeciphering the curious remains of the Magian religion, hardly\nanything was contributed by English students living in the very heart\nof Parsiism at Bombay and Poona.\n\nWe are all the more pleased, therefore, that a young German scholar,\nDr. Haug--who through the judicious recommendation of Mr. Howard,\nDirector of Public Instruction in the Bombay Presidency, was appointed\nto a Professorship of Sanskrit in the Poona College--should have\ngrasped the opportunity, and devoted himself to a thorough study of\nthe sacred literature of the Parsis. He went to India well prepared\nfor his task, and he has not disappointed the hopes which those who\nknew him entertained of him on his departure from Germany. Unless he\nhad been master of his subject before he went to Poona, the assistance\nof the Dustoors would have been of little avail to him. But knowing\nall that could be known in Europe of the Zend language and literature,\nhe knew what questions to ask, he could check every answer, and he\ncould learn with his eyes what it is almost impossible to learn from\nbooks--namely, the religious ceremonial and the ritual observances\nwhich form so considerable an element in the Vendidad and Vispered.\nThe result of his studies is now before us in a volume of 'Essays on\nthe Sacred Language, Writings, and Religion of the Parsees,' published\nat Bombay, 1862. It is a volume of only three hundred and sixty-eight\npages, and sells in England for one guinea. Nevertheless, to the\nstudent of Zend it is one of the cheapest books ever published. It\ncontains four Essays: 1. History of the Researches into the Sacred\nWritings and Religion of the Parsees from the earliest times down to\nthe present; 2. Outline of a Grammar of the Zend Language; 3. The\nZend-Avesta, or the Scripture of the Parsees; 4. Origin and\nDevelopment of the Zoroastrian Religion. The most important portion is\nthe Outline of the Zend Grammar; for, though a mere outline, it is the\nfirst systematic grammatical analysis of that curious language. In\nother languages, we generally begin by learning the grammar, and then\nmake our way gradually through the literature. In Zend, the\ngrammatical terminations had first to be discovered by a careful\nanatomy of the literature. The Parsis themselves possessed no such\nwork. Even their most learned priests are satisfied with learning the\nZend-Avesta by heart, and with acquiring some idea of its import by\nmeans of a Pehlevi translation, which dates from the Sassanian period,\nor of a Sanskrit translation of still later date. Hence the\ntranslation of the Zend-Avesta published by Anquetil Duperron, with\nthe assistance of Dustoor Darab, was by no means trustworthy. It was,\nin fact, a French translation of a Persian rendering of a Pehlevi\nversion of the Zend original. It was Burnouf who, aided by his\nknowledge of Sanskrit, and his familiarity with the principles of\ncomparative grammar, approached, for the first time, the very words of\nthe Zend original. He had to conquer every inch of ground for himself,\nand his 'Commentaire sur le Yasna' is, in fact, like the deciphering\nof one long inscription, only surpassed in difficulty by his later\ndecipherments of the cuneiform inscriptions of the Achaemenian monarchs\nof Persia. Aided by the labours of Burnouf and others, Dr. Haug has at\nlast succeeded in putting together the disjecta membra poetae, and we\nhave now in his Outline, not indeed a grammar like that of Pa_n_ini\nfor Sanskrit, yet a sufficient skeleton of what was once a living\nlanguage, not inferior, in richness and delicacy, even to the idiom of\nthe Vedas.\n\nThere are, at present, five editions, more or less complete, of the\nZend-Avesta. The first was lithographed under Burnouf's direction, and\npublished at Paris 1829-1843. The second edition of the text,\ntranscribed into Roman characters, appeared at Leipzig 1850, published\nby Professor Brockhaus. The third edition, in Zend characters, was\ngiven to the world by Professor Spiegel, 1851; and about the same\ntime a fourth edition was undertaken by Professor Westergaard, at\nCopenhagen, 1852 to 1854. There are one or two editions of the\nZend-Avesta, published in India, with Guzerati translations, which we\nhave not seen, but which are frequently quoted by native scholars. A\nGerman translation of the Zend-Avesta was undertaken by Professor\nSpiegel, far superior in accuracy to that of Anquetil Duperron, yet in\nthe main based on the Pehlevi version. Portions of the ancient text\nhad been minutely analysed and translated by Dr. Haug, even before his\ndeparture for the East.\n\nThe Zend-Avesta is not a voluminous work. We still call it the\nZend-Avesta, though we are told that its proper title is Avesta Zend,\nnor does it seem at all likely that the now familiar name will ever be\nsurrendered for the more correct one. Who speaks of Cassius Dio,\nthough we are told that Dio Cassius is wrong? Nor do we feel at all\nconvinced that the name of Avesta Zend is the original and only\ncorrect name. According to the Parsis, Avesta means sacred text, Zend\nits Pehlevi translation. But in the Pehlevi translations themselves,\nthe original work of Zoroaster is spoken of as Avesta Zend. Why it is\nso called by the Pehlevi translators, we are nowhere told by\nthemselves, and many conjectures have, in consequence, been started by\nalmost every Zend scholar. Dr. Haug supposes that the earliest\nportions of the Zend-Avesta ought to be called Avesta, the later\nportions Zend--Zend meaning, according to him, commentary,\nexplanation, gloss. Neither the word Avesta nor Zend, however, occurs\nin the original Zend texts, and though Avesta seems to be the Sanskrit\navastha, the Pehlevi apestak, in the sense of 'authorised text,' the\netymology of Zend, as derived from a supposed zanti, Sanskrit _gn_ati,\nknowledge, is not free from serious objections. Avesta Zend was most\nlikely a traditional name, hardly understood even at the time of the\nPehlevi translators, who retained it in their writings. It was\npossibly misinterpreted by them, as many other Zend words have been at\ntheir hands, and may have been originally the Sanskrit word\n_k_handas,[46] which is applied by the Brahmans to the sacred hymns of\nthe Veda. Certainty on such a point is impossible; but as it is but\nfair to give a preference to the conjectures of those who are most\nfamiliar with the subject, we quote the following explanation of Dr.\nHaug:\n\n     'The meaning of the term \"Zend\" varied at different periods.\n     Originally it meant the interpretation of the sacred texts\n     descended from Zarathustra and his disciples by the\n     successors of the prophet. In the course of time, these\n     interpretations being regarded as equally sacred with the\n     original texts, both were then called Avesta. Both having\n     become unintelligible to the majority of the Zoroastrians,\n     in consequence of their language having died out, they\n     required a Zend or explanation again. This new Zend was\n     furnished by the most learned priests of the Sassanian\n     period in the shape of a translation into the vernacular\n     language of Persia (Pehlevi) in those days, which\n     translation being the only source to the priests of the\n     present time whence to derive any knowledge of the old\n     texts, is therefore the only Zend or explanation they know\n     of.... The name Pazend, to be met with frequently in\n     connection with Avesta and Zend, denotes the further\n     explanation of the Zend doctrine..... The Pazend language is\n     the same as the so-called Parsi, i. e. the ancient Persian,\n     as written till about the time of Firdusi, 1000 A.D.'\n\n[Footnote 46: See page 84.]\n\nWhatever we may think of the nomenclature thus advocated by Dr. Haug,\nwe must acknowledge in the fullest manner his great merit in\nseparating for the first time the more ancient from the more modern\nparts of the Zend-Avesta. Though the existence of different dialects\nin the ancient texts was pointed out by Spiegel, and although the\nmetrical portions of the Ya_s_na had been clearly marked by\nWestergaard, it is nevertheless Haug's great achievement to have\nextracted these early relics, to have collected them, and to have\nattempted a complete translation of them, as far as such an attempt\ncould be carried out at the present moment. His edition of the\nGathas--for this is the name of the ancient metrical portions--marks\nan epoch in the history of Zend scholarship, and the importance of the\nrecovery of these genuine relics of Zoroaster's religion has been well\nbrought out by Bunsen in the least known of his books, 'Gott in der\nGeschichte.' We by no means think that the translations here offered\nby Dr. Haug are final. We hope, on the contrary, that he will go on\nwith the work he has so well begun, and that he will not rest till he\nhas removed every dark speck that still covers the image of\nZoroaster's primitive faith. Many of the passages as translated by him\nare as clear as daylight, and carry conviction by their very\nclearness. Others, however, are obscure, hazy, meaningless. We feel\nthat they must have been intended for something else, something more\ndefinite and forcible, though we cannot tell what to do with the\nwords as they stand. Sense, after all, is the great test of\ntranslation. We must feel convinced that there was good sense in these\nancient poems, otherwise mankind would not have taken the trouble to\npreserve them; and if we cannot discover good sense in them, it must\nbe either our fault, or the words as we now read them were not the\nwords uttered by the ancient prophets of the world. The following are\na few specimens of Dr. Haug's translations, in which the reader will\neasily discover the different hues of certainty and uncertainty, of\nsense and mere verbiage:\n\n     1. That I will ask Thee, tell me it right, thou living God!\n     whether your friend (Sraosha) be willing to recite his own\n     hymn as prayer to my friend (Frashaostra or Vistaspa), thou\n     Wise! and whether he should come to us with the good mind,\n     to perform for us true actions of friendship.\n\n     2. That I will ask Thee, tell me it right, thou living God!\n     How arose the best present life (this world)? By what means\n     are the present things (the world) to be supported? That\n     spirit, the holy (Vohu mano), O true wise spirit! is the\n     guardian of the beings to ward off from them every evil; He\n     is the promoter of all life.\n\n     3. That I will ask Thee, tell me it right, thou living God!\n     Who was in the beginning the Father and Creator of truth?\n     Who made the sun and stars? Who causes the moon to increase\n     and wane if not Thou? This I wish to know, except what I\n     already know.\n\n     4. That I will ask Thee, tell me it right, thou living God!\n     Who is holding the earth and the skies above it? Who made\n     the waters and the trees of the field? Who is in the winds\n     and storms that they so quickly run? Who is the Creator of\n     the good-minded beings, thou Wise?\n\nThis is a short specimen of the earliest portion of the Zend-Avesta.\nThe following is an account of one of the latest, the so-called Ormuzd\nYasht:\n\n     'Zarathustra asked Ahuramazda after the most effectual spell\n     to guard against the influence of evil spirits. He was\n     answered by the Supreme Spirit, that the utterance of the\n     different names of Ahuramazda protects best from evil.\n     Thereupon Zarathustra begged Ahuramazda to communicate to\n     him these names. He then enumerates twenty. The first is\n     Ahmi, i. e. \"I am;\" the fourth, Asha-vahista, i. e. \"the\n     best purity;\" the sixth, \"I am wisdom;\" the eighth, \"I am\n     knowledge;\" the twelfth, Ahura, i. e. \"living;\" the\n     twentieth, \"I am who I am, Mazdao.\"'\n\nAhuramazda says then further:\n\n     '\"If you call me at day or at night by these names, I shall\n     come to assist and help you; the angel Serosh will then\n     come, the genii of the waters and the trees.\" For the utter\n     defeat of the evil spirits, bad men, witches, Peris, a\n     series of other names are suggested to Zarathustra, such as\n     protector, guardian, spirit, the holiest, the best\n     fire-priest, etc.'\n\nWhether the striking coincidence between one of the suggested names of\nAhuramazda, namely, 'I am who I am,' and the explanation of the name\nJehova, Exodus iii. 14, 'I am that I am,' is accidental or not, must\ndepend on the age that can be assigned to the Ormuzd Yasht. The\nchronological arrangement, however, of the various portions of the\nZend-Avesta is as yet merely tentative, and these questions must\nremain for future consideration. Dr. Haug points out other\nsimilarities between the doctrines of Zoroaster and the Old and New\nTestaments. 'The Zoroastrian religion,' he writes, 'exhibits a very\nclose affinity to, or rather identity with, several important\ndoctrines of the Mosaic religion and Christianity, such as the\npersonality and attributes of the devil, and the resurrection of the\ndead.' Neither of these doctrines, however, would seem to be\ncharacteristic of the Old or New Testament, and the resurrection of\nthe dead is certainly to be found by implication only, and is nowhere\ndistinctly asserted, in the religious books of Moses.\n\nThere are other points on which we should join issue with Dr.\nHaug--as, for instance, when, on page 17, he calls the Zend the elder\nsister of Sanskrit. This seems to us in the very teeth of the evidence\nso carefully brought together by himself in his Zend grammar. If he\nmeans the modern Sanskrit, as distinguished from the Vedic, his\nstatement would be right to some extent; but even thus, it would be\neasy to show many grammatical forms in the later Sanskrit more\nprimitive than their corresponding forms in Zend. These, however, are\nminor points compared with the great results of his labours which Dr.\nHaug has brought together in these four Essays; and we feel certain\nthat all who are interested in the study of ancient language and\nancient religion will look forward with the greatest expectations to\nDr. Haug's continued investigations of the language, the literature,\nthe ceremonial, and the religion of the descendants of Zoroaster.\n\n_December, 1862._\n\n\n\n\nVI.\n\nPROGRESS OF ZEND SCHOLARSHIP.[47]\n\n\nThere are certain branches of philological research which seem to be\nconstantly changing, shifting, and, we hope, progressing. After the\nkey to the interpretation of ancient inscriptions has been found, it\nby no means follows that every word can at once be definitely\nexplained, or every sentence correctly construed. Thus it happens that\nthe same hieroglyphic or cuneiform text is rendered differently by\ndifferent scholars; nay, that the same scholar proposes a new\nrendering not many years after his first attempt at a translation has\nbeen published. And what applies to the decipherment of inscriptions\napplies with equal force to the translation of ancient texts. A\ntranslation of the hymns of the Veda, or of the Zend-Avesta, and, we\nmay add, of the Old Testament too, requires exactly the same process\nas the deciphering of an inscription. The only safe way of finding the\nreal meaning of words in the sacred texts of the Brahmans, the\nZoroastrians, or the Jews, is to compare every passage in which the\nsame word occurs, and to look for a meaning that is equally applicable\nto all, and can at the same time be defended on grammatical and\netymological grounds. This is no doubt a tedious process, nor can it\nbe free from uncertainty; but it is an uncertainty inherent in the\nsubject itself, for which it would be unfair to blame those by whose\ngenius and perseverance so much light has been shed on the darkest\npages of ancient history. To those who are not acquainted with the\nefforts by which Grotefend, Burnouf, Lassen, and Rawlinson unravelled\nthe inscriptions of Cyrus, Darius, and Xerxes, it may seem\ninexplicable, for instance, how an inscription which at one time was\nsupposed to confirm the statement, known from Herodotus, that Darius\nobtained the sovereignty of Persia by the neighing of his horse,\nshould now yield so very different a meaning. Herodotus relates that\nafter the assassination of Smerdis the six conspirators agreed to\nconfer the royal dignity on him whose horse should neigh first at\nsunrise. The horse of Darius neighed first, and he was accordingly\nelected king of Persia. After his election, Herodotus states that\nDarius erected a stone monument containing the figure of a horseman,\nwith the following inscription: 'Darius, the son of Hystaspes,\nobtained the kingdom of the Persians by the virtue of his horse\n(giving its name), and of Oibareus, his groom.' Lassen translated one\nof the cuneiform inscriptions, copied originally by Niebuhr from a\nhuge slab built in the southern wall of the great platform at\nPersepolis, in the following manner: 'Auramazdis magnus est. Is\nmaximus est deorum. Ipse Darium regem constituit, benevolens imperium\nobtulit. Ex voluntate Auramazdis Darius rex sum. Generosus sum Darius\nrex hujus regionis Persicae; hanc mihi Auramazdis obtulit \"hoc\npomoerio ope equi (Choaspis) clarae virtutis.\"' This translation was\npublished in 1844, and the arguments by which Lassen supported it, in\nthe sixth volume of the 'Zeitschrift fuer die Kunde des Morgenlandes,'\nmay be read with interest and advantage even now when we know that\nthis eminent scholar was mistaken in his analysis. The first step\ntowards a more correct translation was made by Professor Holtzmann,\nwho in 1845 pointed out that Smerdis was murdered at Susa, not at\nPersepolis; and that only six days later Darius was elected king of\nPersia, which happened again at Susa, and not at Persepolis. The\nmonument, therefore, which Darius erected in the [Greek: proasteion],\nor suburb, in the place where the fortunate event which led to his\nelevation occurred, and the inscription recording the event in loco,\ncould not well be looked for at Persepolis. But far more important was\nthe evidence derived from a more careful analysis of the words of the\ninscription itself. Niba, which Lassen translated as pomoerium,\noccurs in three other places, where it certainly cannot mean suburb.\nIt seems to be an adjective meaning splendid, beautiful. Besides, niba\nis a nominative singular in the feminine, and so is the pronoun hya\nwhich precedes, and the two words which follow it--uva_s_pa and\numartiya. Professor Holtzmann translated therefore the same sentence\nwhich Professor Lassen had rendered by 'hoc pomoerio ope equi\n(Choaspis) clarae virtutis,' by 'quae nitida, herbosa, celebris est,' a\ntranslation which is in the main correct, and has been adopted\nafterwards both by Sir H. Rawlinson and M. Oppert. Sir H. Rawlinson\ntranslates the whole passage as follows: 'This province of Persia\nwhich Ormazd has granted to me, which is illustrious, abounding in\ngood horses, producing good men.' Thus vanished the horse of Darius,\nand the curious confirmation which the cuneiform inscription was at\none time supposed to lend to the Persian legend recorded by Herodotus.\n\n[Footnote 47: 'A Lecture on the Original Language of Zoroaster.' By\nMartin Haug. Bombay, 1865.]\n\nIt would be easy to point out many passages of this kind, and to use\nthem in order to throw discredit on the whole method by which these\nand other inscriptions have lately been deciphered. It would not\nrequire any great display of forensic or parliamentary eloquence, to\nconvince the public at large, by means of such evidence, that all the\nlabours of Grotefend, Burnouf, Lassen, and Rawlinson had been in vain,\nand to lay down once for all the general principle that the original\nmeaning of inscriptions written in a dead language, of which the\ntradition is once lost, can never be recovered. Fortunately, questions\nof this kind are not settled by eloquent pleading or by the votes of\nmajorities, but, on the contrary, by the independent judgment of the\nfew who are competent to judge. The fact that different scholars\nshould differ in their interpretations, or that the same scholars\nshould reject his former translation, and adopt a new one that\npossibly may have to be surrendered again as soon as new light can be\nthrown on points hitherto doubtful and obscure--all this, which in the\nhands of those who argue for victory and not for truth, constitutes so\nformidable a weapon, and appeals so strongly to the prejudices of the\nmany, produces very little effect on the minds of those who understand\nthe reason of these changes, and to whom each new change represents\nbut a new step in advance in the discovery of truth.\n\nNor should the fact be overlooked that, if there seems to be less\nchange in the translation of the books of the Old Testament for\ninstance, or of Homer, it is due in a great measure to the absence of\nthat critical exactness at which the decipherers of ancient\ninscriptions and the translators of the Veda and Zend-Avesta aim in\nrendering each word that comes before them. If we compared the\ntranslation of the Septuagint with the authorised version of the Old\nTestament, we should occasionally find discrepancies nearly as\nstartling as any that can be found in the different translations of\nthe cuneiform inscriptions, or of the Veda and Zend-Avesta. In the\nBook of Job, the Vulgate translates the exhortation of Job's wife by\n'Bless God and die;' the English version by 'Curse God and die;' the\nSeptuagint by 'Say some word to the Lord and die.' Though, at the time\nwhen the Seventy translated the Old Testament, Hebrew could hardly be\ncalled a dead language, yet there were then many of its words the\noriginal meaning of which even the most learned rabbi would have had\ngreat difficulty in defining with real accuracy. The meaning of words\nchanges imperceptibly and irresistibly. Even where there is a\nliterature, and a printed literature like that of modern Europe, four\nor five centuries work such a change that few even of the most learned\ndivines in England would find it easy to read and to understand\naccurately a theological treatise written in English four hundred\nyears ago. The same happened, and happened to a far greater extent, in\nancient languages. Nor was the sacred character attributed to certain\nwritings any safeguard. On the contrary, greater violence is done by\nsuccessive interpreters to sacred writings than to any other relics\nof ancient literature. Ideas grow and change, yet each generation\ntries to find its own ideas reflected in the sacred pages of their\nearly prophets, and, in addition to the ordinary influences which blur\nand obscure the sharp features of old words, artificial influences are\nhere at work distorting the natural expression of words which have\nbeen invested with a sacred authority. Passages in the Veda or\nZend-Avesta which do not bear on religious or philosophical doctrines\nare generally explained simply and naturally, even by the latest of\nnative commentators. But as soon as any word or sentence can be so\nturned as to support a doctrine, however modern, or a precept, however\nirrational, the simplest phrases are tortured and mangled till at last\nthey are made to yield their assent to ideas the most foreign to the\nminds of the authors of the Veda and Zend-Avesta.\n\nTo those who take an interest in these matters we may recommend a\nsmall Essay lately published by the Rev. R. G. S. Browne--the 'Mosaic\nCosmogony'--in which the author endeavours to establish a literal\ntranslation of the first chapter of Genesis. Touching the first verb\nthat occurs in the Bible, he writes: 'What is the meaning or scope of\nthe Hebrew verb, in our authorised version, rendered by \"created?\" To\nEnglish ears and understandings the sound comes naturally, and by long\nuse irresistibly, as the representation of an ex nihilo creation. But,\nin the teeth of all the Rabbinical and Cabbalistic fancies of Jewish\ncommentators, and with reverential deference to modern criticism on\nthe Hebrew Bible, it is not so. R. D. Kimchi, in his endeavour to\nascertain the shades of difference existing between the terms used in\nthe Mosaic cosmogony, has assumed that our Hebrew verb bara has the\nfull signification of ex nihilo creavit. Our own Castell, a profound\nand self-denying scholar has entertained the same groundless notion.\nAnd even our illustrious Bryan Walton was not inaccessible to this\noblique ray of Rabbinical or ignis fatuus.'\n\nMr. Browne then proceeds to quote Gesenius, who gives as the primary\nmeaning of bara, he cut, cut out, carved, planed down, polished; and\nhe refers to Lee, who characterizes it as a silly theory that bara\nmeant to create ex nihilo. In Joshua xvii. 15 and 18, the same verb is\nused in the sense of cutting down trees; in Psalm civ. 30 it is\ntranslated by 'Thou renewest the face of the earth.' In Arabic, too,\naccording to Lane, bara means properly, though not always, to create\nout of pre-existing matter. All this shows that in the verb bara, as\nin the Sanskrit tvaksh or taksh, there is no trace of the meaning\nassigned to it by later scholars, of a creation out of nothing. That\nidea in its definiteness was a modern idea, most likely called forth\nby the contact between Jews and Greeks at Alexandria. It was probably\nin contradistinction to the Greek notion of matter as co-eternal with\nthe Creator, that the Jews, to whom Jehovah was all in all, asserted,\nfor the first time deliberately, that God had made all things out of\nnothing. This became afterwards the received and orthodox view of\nJewish and Christian divines, though the verb bara, so far from\nlending any support to this theory, would rather show that, in the\nminds of those whom Moses addressed and whose language he spoke, it\ncould only have called forth the simple conception of fashioning or\narranging--if, indeed, it called forth any more definite conception\nthan the general and vague one conveyed by the [Greek: poiein] of the\nSeptuagint. To find out how the words of the Old Testament were\nunderstood by those to whom they were originally addressed is a task\nattempted by very few interpreters of the Bible. The great majority of\nreaders transfer without hesitation the ideas which they connect with\nwords as used in the nineteenth century to the mind of Moses or his\ncontemporaries, forgetting altogether the distance which divides their\nlanguage and their thoughts from the thoughts and language of the\nwandering tribes of Israel.\n\nHow many words, again, there are in Homer which have indeed a\ntraditional interpretation, as given by our dictionaries and\ncommentaries, but the exact purport of which is completely lost, is\nbest known to Greek scholars. It is easy enough to translate [Greek:\npolemoio gephyrai] by the bridges of war, but what Homer really meant\nby these [Greek: gephyrai] has never been explained. It is extremely\ndoubtful whether bridges, in our sense of the word, were known at all\nat the time of Homer; and even if it could be proved that Homer used\n[Greek: gephyrai] in the sense of a dam, the etymology, i. e., the\nearliest history of the word, would still remain obscure and doubtful.\nIt is easy, again, to see that [Greek: hieros] in Greek means\nsomething like the English sacred. But how, if it did so, the same\nadjective could likewise be applied to a fish or to a chariot, is a\nquestion which, if it is to be answered at all, can only be answered\nby an etymological analysis of the word.[48] To say that sacred may\nmean marvellous, and therefore big, is saying nothing, particularly as\nHomer does not speak of catching big fish, but of catching fish in\ngeneral.\n\n[Footnote 48: On [Greek: hieros], the Sanskrit ishira, lively, see\nKuhn's 'Zeitschrift,' vol. ii. p. 275, vol. iii. p. 134.]\n\nThese considerations--which might be carried much further, but which,\nwe are afraid, have carried us away too far from our original\nsubject--were suggested to us while reading a lecture lately published\nby Dr. Haug, and originally delivered by him at Bombay, in 1864,\nbefore an almost exclusively Parsi audience. In that lecture Dr. Haug\ngives a new translation of ten short paragraphs of the Zend-Avesta,\nwhich he had explained and translated in his 'Essays on the Sacred\nLanguage of the Parsees,' published in 1862. To an ordinary reader the\ndifference between the two translations, published within the space of\ntwo years, might certainly be perplexing, and calculated to shake his\nfaith in the soundness of a method that can lead to such varying\nresults. Nor can it be denied that, if scholars who are engaged in\nthese researches are bent on representing their last translation as\nfinal and as admitting of no further improvement, the public has a\nright to remind them that 'finality' is as dangerous a thing in\nscholarship as in politics. Considering the difficulty of translating\nthe pages of the Zend-Avesta, we can never hope to have every sentence\nof it rendered into clear and intelligible English. Those who for the\nfirst time reduced the sacred traditions of the Zoroastrians to\nwriting were separated by more than a thousand years from the time of\ntheir original composition. After that came all the vicissitudes to\nwhich manuscripts are exposed during the process of being copied by\nmore or less ignorant scribes. The most ancient MSS. of the\nZend-Avesta date from the beginning of the fourteenth century. It is\ntrue there is an early translation of the Zend-Avesta, the Pehlevi\ntranslation, and a later one in Sanskrit by Neriosengh. But the\nPehlevi translation, which was made under the auspices of the\nSassanian kings of Persia, served only to show how completely the\nliteral and grammatical meaning of the Zend-Avesta was lost even at\nthat time, in the third century after Christ; while the Sanskrit\ntranslation was clearly made, not from the original, but from the\nPehlevi. It is true, also, that even in more modern times the Parsis\nof Bombay were able to give to Anquetil Duperron and other Europeans\nwhat they considered as a translation of the Zend-Avesta in modern\nPersian. But a scholar like Burnouf, who endeavoured for the first\ntime to give an account of every word in the Zend text, to explain\neach grammatical termination, to parse every sentence, and to\nestablish the true meaning of each term by an etymological analysis\nand by a comparison of cognate words in Sanskrit, was able to derive\nbut scant assistance from these traditional translations. Professor\nSpiegel, to whom we owe a complete edition and translation of the\nZend-Avesta, and who has devoted the whole of his life to the\nelucidation of the Zoroastrian religion, attributes a higher value to\nthe tradition of the Parsis than Dr. Haug. But he also is obliged to\nadmit that he could ascribe no greater authority to these traditional\ntranslations and glosses than a Biblical scholar might allow to\nRabbinical commentaries. All scholars are agreed in fact on this, that\nwhether the tradition be right or wrong, it requires in either case to\nbe confirmed by an independent grammatical and etymological analysis\nof the original text. Such an analysis is no doubt as liable to error\nas the traditional translation itself, but it possesses this\nadvantage, that it gives reasons for every word that has to be\ntranslated, and for every sentence that has to be construed. It is an\nexcellent discipline to the mind even where the results at which we\narrive are doubtful or erroneous, and it has imparted to these studies\na scientific value and general interest which they could not otherwise\nhave acquired.\n\nWe shall give a few specimens of the translations proposed by\ndifferent scholars of one or two verses of the Zend-Avesta. We cannot\nhere enter into the grammatical arguments by which each of these\ntranslations is supported. We only wish to show what is the present\nstate of Zend scholarship, and though we would by no means disguise\nthe fact of its somewhat chaotic character, yet we do not hesitate to\naffirm that, in spite of the conflict of the opinions of different\nscholars, and in spite of the fluctuation of systems apparently\nopposed to each other, progress may be reported, and a firm hope\nexpressed that the essential doctrines of one of the earliest forms of\nreligion may in time be recovered and placed before us in their\noriginal purity and simplicity. We begin with the Pehlevi translation\nof a passage in Ya_s_na, 45:\n\n     'Thus the religion is to be proclaimed; now give an\n     attentive hearing, and now listen, that is, keep your ear in\n     readiness, make your works and speeches gentle. Those who\n     have wished from nigh and far to study the religion, may now\n     do so. For now all is manifest, that Anhuma (Ormazd)\n     created, that Anhuma created all these beings; that at the\n     second time, at the (time of the) future body, Aharman does\n     not destroy (the life of) the worlds. Aharman made evil\n     desire and wickedness to spread through his tongue.'\n\nProfessor Spiegel, in 1859, translated the same passage, of which the\nPehlevi is a running commentary rather than a literal rendering, as\nfollows:\n\n     'Now I will tell you, lend me your ear, now hear what you\n     desired, you that came from near and from afar! It is clear,\n     the wise (spirits) have created all things; evil doctrine\n     shall not for a second time destroy the world. The Evil One\n     has made a bad choice with his tongue.'\n\nNext follows the translation of the passage as published by Dr. Haug\nin 1862:\n\n     'All ye, who have come from nigh and far, listen now and\n     hearken to my speech. Now I will tell you all about that\n     pair of spirits how it is known to the wise. Neither the\n     ill-speaker (the devil) shall destroy the second (spiritual)\n     life, nor that man who, being a liar with his tongue,\n     professes the false (idolatrous) belief.'\n\nThe same scholar, in 1865, translates the same passage somewhat\ndifferently:\n\n     'All you that have come from near and far should now listen\n     and hearken to what I shall proclaim. Now the wise have\n     manifested this universe as a duality. Let not the\n     mischief-maker destroy the second life, since he, the\n     wicked, chose with his tongue the pernicious doctrine.'\n\nThe principal difficulty in this paragraph consists in the word which\nDr. Haug translated by duality, viz. dum, and which he identifies with\nSanskrit dvam, i. e. dvandvam, pair. Such a word, as far as we are\naware, does not occur again in the Zend-Avesta, and hence it is not\nlikely that the uncertainty attaching to its meaning will ever be\nremoved. Other interpreters take it as a verb in the second person\nplural, and hence the decided difference of interpretation.\n\nThe sixth paragraph of the same passage is explained by the Pehlevi\ntranslator as follows:\n\n     'Thus I proclaimed that among all things the greatest is to\n     worship God. The praise of purity is (due) to him who has a\n     good knowledge, (to those) who depend on Ormazd. I hear\n     Spento-mainyu (who is) Ormazd; listen to me, to what I shall\n     speak (unto you). Whose worship is intercourse with the Good\n     Mind; one can know (experience) the divine command to do\n     good through inquiry after what is good. That which is in\n     the intellect they teach me as the best, viz. the inborn\n     (heavenly) wisdom, (that is, that the divine wisdom is\n     superior to the human).'\n\nProfessor Spiegel translates:\n\n     'Now I will tell you of all things the greatest. It is\n     praise with purity of Him who is wise from those who exist.\n     The holiest heavenly being, Ahuramazda, may hear it, He for\n     whose praise inquiry is made from the holy spirit, may He\n     teach me the best by his intelligence.'\n\nDr. Haug in 1862:\n\n     'Thus I will tell you of the greatest of all (Sraosha), who\n     is praising the truth, and doing good, and of all who are\n     gathered round him (to assist him), by order of the holy\n     spirit (Ahuramazda). The living Wise may hear me; by means\n     of His goodness the good mind increases (in the world). He\n     may lead me with the best of his wisdom.'\n\nDr. Haug in 1865:\n\n     'I will proclaim as the greatest of all things that one\n     should be good, praising only truth. Ahuramazda will hear\n     those who are bent on furthering (all that is good). May he\n     whose goodness is communicated by the Good Mind instruct me\n     in his best wisdom.'\n\nTo those who are interested in the study of Zend, and wish to judge\nfor themselves of the trustworthiness of these various translations,\nwe can recommend a most useful work lately published in Germany by Dr.\nF. Justi, 'Handbuch der Zendsprache,' containing a complete\ndictionary, a grammar, and selections from the Zend-Avesta.\n\n_September, 1865._\n\n\n\n\nVII.\n\nGENESIS AND THE ZEND-AVESTA.[49]\n\n\nO that scholars could have the benefit of a little legal training, and\nlearn at least the difference between what is probable and what is\nproven! What an advantage also, if they had occasionally to address a\njury of respectable tradespeople, and were forced to acquire the art,\nor rather not to shrink from the effort, of putting the most intricate\nand delicate points in the simplest and clearest form of which they\nadmit! What a lesson again it would be to men of independent research,\nif, after having amassed ever so many bags full of evidence, they had\nalways before their eyes the fear of an impatient judge who wants to\nhear nothing but what is important and essential, and hates to listen\nto anything that is not to the point, however carefully it may have\nbeen worked out, and however eloquently it may be laid before him!\nThere is hardly one book published now-a-days which, if everything in\nit that is not to the purpose were left out, could not be reduced to\nhalf its size. If authors could make up their minds to omit everything\nthat is only meant to display their learning, to exhibit the\ndifficulties they had to overcome, or to call attention to the\nignorance of their predecessors, many a volume of thirty sheets would\ncollapse into a pamphlet of fifty pages, though in that form it would\nprobably produce a much greater effect than in its more inflated\nappearance.\n\n[Footnote 49: 'Eran, das Land zwischen dem Indus und Tigris, Beitraege\nzur Kenntniss des Landes und seiner Geschichte.' Von Dr. Friedrich\nSpiegel. Berlin, 1863.]\n\nDid the writers of the Old Testament borrow anything from the\nEgyptians, the Babylonians, the Persians, or the Indians, is a simple\nenough question. It is a question that may be treated quite apart from\nany theological theories; for the Old Testament, whatever view the\nJews may take of its origin, may surely be regarded by the historian\nas a really historical book, written at a certain time in the history\nof the world, in a language then spoken and understood, and\nproclaiming certain facts and doctrines meant to be acceptable and\nintelligible to the Jews, such as they were at that time, an\nhistorical nation, holding a definite place by the side of their more\nor less distant neighbours, whether Egyptians, Assyrians, Persians, or\nIndians. It is well known that we have in the language of the New\nTestament the clear vestiges of Greek and Roman influences, and if we\nknew nothing of the historical intercourse between those two nations\nand the writers of the New Testament, the very expressions used by\nthem--not only their language, but their thoughts, their allusions,\nillustrations, and similes--would enable us to say that some\nhistorical contact had taken place between the philosophers of Greece,\nthe lawgivers of Rome, and the people of Judea. Why then should not\nthe same question be asked with regard to more ancient times? Why\nshould there be any hesitation in pointing out in the Old Testament an\nEgyptian custom, or a Greek word, or a Persian conception? If Moses\nwas learned in all the wisdom of the Egyptians, nothing surely would\nstamp his writings as more truly historical than traces of Egyptian\ninfluences that might be discovered in his laws. If Daniel prospered\nin the reign of Cyrus the Persian, every Persian word that could be\ndiscovered in Daniel would be most valuable in the eyes of a critical\nhistorian. The only thing which we may fairly require in\ninvestigations of this kind is that the facts should be clearly\nestablished. The subject is surely an important one--important\nhistorically, quite apart from any theological consequences that may\nbe supposed to follow. It is as important to find out whether the\nauthors of the Old Testament had come in contact with the language and\nideas of Babylon, Persia, or Egypt, as it is to know that the Jews, at\nthe time of our Lord's appearance, had been reached by the rays of\nGreek and Roman civilisation--that in fact our Lord, his disciples,\nand many of his followers, spoke Greek as well as Hebrew (i. e.\nChaldee), and were no strangers to that sphere of thought in which the\nworld of the Gentiles, the Greeks, and Romans had been moving for\ncenturies.\n\nHints have been thrown out from time to time by various writers that\ncertain ideas in the Old Testament might be ascribed to Persian\ninfluences, and be traced back to the Zend-Avesta, the sacred writings\nof Zoroaster. Much progress has been made in the deciphering of these\nancient documents, since Anquetil Duperron brought the first\ninstalment of MSS. from Bombay, and since the late Eugene Burnouf, in\nhis 'Commentaire sur le Yasna,' succeeded in establishing the grammar\nand dictionary of the Zend language upon a safe basis. Several\neditions of the works of Zoroaster have been published in France,\nDenmark, and Germany; and after the labours of Spiegel, Westergaard,\nHaug, and others, it might be supposed that such a question as the\ninfluence of Persian ideas on the writers of the Old Testament might\nat last be answered either in the affirmative or in the negative. We\nwere much pleased, therefore, on finding that Professor Spiegel, the\nlearned editor and translator of the Avesta, had devoted a chapter of\nhis last work, 'Eran, das Land zwischen dem Indus und Tigris,' to the\nproblem in question. We read his chapter, 'Avesta und die Genesis,\noder die Beziehungen der Eranier zu den Semiten,' with the warmest\ninterest, and when we had finished it, we put down the book with the\nvery exclamation with which we began our article.\n\nWe do not mean to say anything disrespectful to Professor Spiegel, a\nscholar brimfull of learning, and one of the two or three men who know\nthe Avesta by heart. He is likewise a good Semitic scholar, and knows\nenough of Hebrew to form an independent opinion on the language,\nstyle, and general character of the different books of the Old\nTestament. He brings together in his Essay a great deal of interesting\ninformation, and altogether would seem to be one of the most valuable\nwitnesses to give evidence on the point in question. Yet suppose him\nfor a moment in a court of justice where, as in a patent case, some\ngreat issue depends on the question whether certain ideas had first\nbeen enunciated by the author of Genesis or the author of the Avesta;\nsuppose him subjected to a cross-examination by a brow-beating lawyer,\nwhose business it is to disbelieve and make others disbelieve every\nassertion that the witness makes, and we are afraid the learned\nProfessor would break down completely. Now it may be said that this is\nnot the spirit in which learned inquiries should be conducted, that\nauthors have a right to a certain respect, and may reckon on a certain\namount of willingness on the part of their readers. Such a plea may,\nperhaps, be urged when all preliminary questions in a contest have\nbeen disposed of, when all the evidence has been proved to lie in one\ndirection, and when even the most obstinate among the gentlemen of the\njury feel that the verdict is as good as settled. But in a question\nlike this, where everything is doubtful, or, we should rather say,\nwhere all the prepossessions are against the view which Dr. Spiegel\nupholds, it is absolutely necessary for a new witness to be armed from\ntop to toe, to lay himself open to no attack, to measure his words,\nand advance step by step in a straight line to the point that has to\nbe reached. A writer like Dr. Spiegel should know that he can expect\nno mercy; nay, he should himself wish for no mercy, but invite the\nheaviest artillery against the floating battery which he has launched\ninto the troubled waters of Biblical criticism. If he feels that his\ncase is not strong enough, the wisest plan surely is to wait, to\naccumulate new strength if possible, or, if no new evidence is\nforthcoming, to acknowledge openly that there is no case.\n\nM. Breal--who, in his interesting Essay 'Hercule et Cacus,' has lately\ntreated the same problem, the influence of Persian ideas on the\nwriters of the Old Testament--gives an excellent example of how a case\nof this kind should be argued. He begins with the apocryphal books,\nand he shows that the name of an evil spirit like Asmodeus, which\noccurs in Tobit, could be borrowed from Persia only. It is a name\ninexplicable in Hebrew, and it represents very closely the Parsi\nEshem-dev, the Zend Aeshma daeva, the spirit of concupiscence,\nmentioned several times in the Avesta (Vendidad, c. 10), as one of the\ndevs, or evil spirits. Now this is the kind of evidence we want for\nthe Old Testament. We can easily discover a French word in English,\nnor is it difficult to tell a Persian word in Hebrew. Are there any\nPersian words in Genesis, words of the same kind as Asmodeus in Tobit?\nNo such evidence has been brought forward, and the only words we can\nthink of which, if not Persian, may be considered of Aryan origin, are\nthe names of such rivers as Tigris and Euphrates; and of countries\nsuch as Ophir and Havilah among the descendants of Shem, Javan,\nMeshech, and others among the descendants of Japhet. These names are\nprobably foreign names, and as such naturally mentioned by the author\nof Genesis in their foreign form. If there are other words of Aryan or\nIranian origin in Genesis, they ought to have occupied the most\nprominent place in Dr. Spiegel's pleading.\n\nWe now proceed, and we are again quite willing to admit that, even\nwithout the presence of Persian words, the presence of Persian ideas\nmight be detected by careful analysis. No doubt this is a much more\ndelicate process, yet, as we can discover Jewish and Christian ideas\nin the Koran, there ought to be no insurmountable difficulty in\npointing out any Persian ingredients in Genesis, however disguised and\nassimilated. Only, before we look for such ideas, it is necessary to\nshow the channel through which they could possibly have flowed either\nfrom the Avesta into Genesis, or from Genesis into the Avesta. History\nshows us clearly how Persian words and ideas could have found their\nway into such late works as Tobit, or even into the book of Daniel,\nwhether he prospered in the reign of Darius, or in the reign of Cyrus\nthe Persian. But how did Persians and Jews come in contact, previously\nto the age of Cyrus? Dr. Spiegel says that Zoroaster was born in\nArran. This name is given by mediaeval Mohammedan writers to the plain\nwashed by the Araxes, and was identified by Anquetil Duperron with the\nname Airyana vae_g_a, which the Zend-Avesta gives to the first created\nland of Ormuzd. The Parsis place this sacred country in the vicinity\nof Atropatene, and it is clearly meant as the northernmost country\nknown to the author or authors of the Zend-Avesta. We think that Dr.\nSpiegel is right in defending the geographical position assigned by\ntradition to Airyana vae_g_a, against modern theories that would place\nit more eastward in the plain of Pamer, nor do we hesitate to admit\nthat the name (Airyana vae_g_a, i. e. the seed of the Aryan) might\nhave been changed into Arran. We likewise acknowledge the force of the\narguments by which he shows that the books now called Zend-Avesta were\ncomposed in the Eastern, and not in the Western, provinces of the\nPersian monarchy, though we are hardly prepared to subscribe at once\nto his conclusion (p. 270) that, because Zoroaster is placed by the\nAvesta and by later traditions in Arran, or the Western provinces, he\ncould not possibly be the author of the Avesta, a literary production\nwhich would appear to belong exclusively to the Eastern provinces.\nThe very tradition to which Dr. Spiegel appeals represents Zoroaster\nas migrating from Arran to Balkh, to the court of Gustasp, the son of\nLohrasp; and, as one tradition has as much value as another, we might\nwell admit that the work of Zoroaster, as a religious teacher, began\nin Balkh, and from thence extended still further East. But admitting\nthat Arran, the country washed by the Araxes, was the birthplace of\nZoroaster, can we possibly follow Dr. Spiegel when he says, Arran\nseems to be identical with Haran, the birthplace of Abraham? Does he\nmean the names to be identical? Then how are the aspirate and the\ndouble r to be explained? how is it to be accounted for that the\nmediaeval corruption of Airyana vae_g_a, namely Arran, should appear in\nGenesis? And if the dissimilarity of the two names is waived, is it\npossible in two lines to settle the much contested situation of Haran,\nand thus to determine the ancient watershed between the Semitic and\nAryan nations? The Abbe Banier, more than a hundred years ago, pointed\nout that Haran, whither Abraham repaired, was the metropolis of\nSabism, and that Magism was practised in Ur of the Chaldees\n('Mythology, explained by History,' vol. i. book iii. cap. 3). Dr.\nSpiegel having, as he believes, established the most ancient\nmeeting-point between Abraham and Zoroaster, proceeds to argue that\nwhatever ideas are shared in common by Genesis and the Avesta must be\nreferred to that very ancient period when personal intercourse was\nstill possible between Abraham and Zoroaster, the prophets of the Jews\nand the Iranians. Now, here the counsel for the defence would remind\nDr. Spiegel that Genesis was not the work of Abraham, nor, according\nto Dr. Spiegel's view, was Zoroaster the author of the Zend-Avesta;\nand that therefore the neighbourly intercourse between Zoroaster and\nAbraham in the country of Arran had nothing to do with the ideas\nshared in common by Genesis and the Avesta. But even if we admitted,\nfor argument's sake, that as Dr. Spiegel puts it, the Avesta contains\nZoroastrian and Genesis Abrahamitic ideas, surely there was ample\nopportunity for Jewish ideas to find admission into what we call the\nAvesta, or for Iranian ideas to find admission into Genesis, after the\ndate of Abraham and Zoroaster, and before the time when we find the\nfirst MSS. of Genesis and the Avesta. The Zend MSS. of the Avesta are\nvery modern, so are the Hebrew MSS. of Genesis, which do not carry us\nbeyond the tenth century after Christ. The text of the Avesta,\nhowever, can be checked by the Pehlevi translation, which was made\nunder the Sassanian dynasty (226-651 A.D.), just as the text of\nGenesis can be checked by the Septuagint translation, which was made\nin the third century before Christ. Now, it is known that about the\nsame time and in the same place--namely at Alexandria--where the Old\nTestament was rendered into Greek, the Avesta also was translated into\nthe same language, so that we have at Alexandria in the third century\nB.C. a well established historical contact between the believers in\nGenesis and the believers in the Avesta, and an easy opening for that\nexchange of ideas which, according to Dr. Spiegel, could have taken\nplace nowhere but in Arran, and at the time of Abraham and Zoroaster.\nIt might be objected that this was wrangling for victory, and not\narguing for truth, and that no real scholar would admit that the\nAvesta, in its original form, did not go back to a much earlier date\nthan the third century before Christ. Yet, when such a general\nprinciple is to be laid down, that all that Genesis and Avesta share\nin common must belong to a time before Abraham had started for Canaan,\nand Zoroaster for Balkh, other possible means of later intercourse\nshould surely not be entirely lost sight of.\n\nFor what happens? The very first tradition that is brought forward as\none common to both these ancient works--namely, that of the Four Ages\nof the World--is confessedly found in the later writings only of the\nParsis, and cannot be traced back in its definite shape beyond the\ntime of the Sassanians (Eran, p. 275). Indications of it are said to\nbe found in the earlier writings, but these indications are extremely\nvague. But we must advance a step further, and, after reading very\ncarefully the three pages devoted to this subject by Dr. Spiegel, we\nmust confess we see no similarity whatever on that point between\nGenesis and the Avesta. In Genesis, the Four Ages have never assumed\nthe form of a theory, as in India, Persia, or perhaps in Greece. If we\nsay that the period from Adam to Noah is the first, that from Noah to\nAbraham the second, that from Abraham to the death of Jacob the third,\nthat beginning with the exile in Egypt the fourth, we are transferring\nour ideas to Genesis, but we cannot say that the writer of Genesis\nhimself laid a peculiar stress on this fourfold division. The Parsis,\non the contrary, have a definite system. According to them the world\nis to last 12,000 years. During the first period of 3,000 years the\nworld was created. During the second period Gayo-maratan, the first\nman lived by himself, without suffering from the attacks of evil.\nDuring the third period of 3,000 years the war between good and evil,\nbetween Ormuzd and Ahriman, began with the utmost fierceness; and it\nwill gradually abate during the fourth period of 3,000 years, which is\nstill to elapse before the final victory of good. Where here is the\nsimilarity between Genesis and the Avesta? We are referred by Dr.\nSpiegel to Dr. Windischmann's 'Zoroastrian Studies,' and to his\ndiscovery that there are ten generations between Adam and Noah, as\nthere are ten generations between Yima and Thraetaona; that there are\ntwelve generations between Shem and Isaac, as there are twelve between\nThraetaona and Manus_k_itra; and that there are thirteen generations\nbetween Isaac and David, as there are thirteen between Manus_k_itra\nand Zarathustra. What has the learned counsel for the defence to say\nto this? First, that the name of Shem is put by mistake for that of\nNoah. Secondly, that Yima, who is here identified with Adam, is never\nrepresented in the Avesta as the first man, but is preceded there by\nnumerous ancestors, and surrounded by numerous subjects, who are not\nhis offspring. Thirdly, that in order to establish in Genesis three\nperiods of ten, twelve, and thirteen generations, it is necessary to\ncount Isaac, who clearly belongs to the third, as a member of the\nsecond, so that in reality the number of generations is the same in\none only out of the three periods, which surely proves nothing. As to\nany similarity between the Four Yugas of the Brahmans and the Four\nAges of the Parsis, we can only say that, if it exists, no one has as\nyet brought it out. The Greeks, again, who are likewise said to share\nthe primitive doctrine of the Four Ages, believe really in five, and\nnot in four, and separate them in a manner which does not in the\nleast remind us of Hindu Yugas, Hebrew patriarchs, or the battle\nbetween Ormuzd and Ahriman.\n\nWe proceed to a second point--the Creation as related in Genesis and\nthe Avesta. Here we certainly find some curious coincidences. The\nworld is created in six days in Genesis, and in six periods in the\nAvesta, which six periods together form one year. In Genesis the\ncreation ends with the creation of man, so it does in the Avesta. On\nall other points Dr. Spiegel admits the two accounts differ, but they\nare said to agree again in the temptation and the fall. As Dr. Spiegel\nhas not given the details of the temptation and the fall from the\nAvesta, we cannot judge of the points which he considers to be\nborrowed by the Jews from the Persians; but if we consult M. Breal,\nwho has treated the same subject more fully in his 'Hercule et Cacus,'\nwe find there no more than this, that the Dualism of the Avesta, the\nstruggle between Ormuzd and Ahriman, or the principles of light and\ndarkness, is to be considered as the distant reflex of the grand\nstruggle between Indra, the god of the sky, and V_r_itra, the demon of\nnight and darkness, which forms the constant burden of the hymns of\nthe Rig-veda. In this view there is some truth, but we doubt whether\nit fully exhibits the vital principle of the Zoroastrian religion,\nwhich is founded on a solemn protest against the whole worship of the\npowers of nature invoked in the Vedas, and on the recognition of one\nsupreme power, the God of Light, in every sense of the word--the\nspirit Ahura, who created the world and rules it, and defends it\nagainst the power of evil. That power of evil which in the most\nancient portions of the Avesta has not yet received the name of\nAhriman (i. e. angro mainyus), may afterwards have assumed some of the\nepithets which in an earlier period were bestowed on V_r_itra and\nother enemies of the bright gods, and among them, it may have assumed\nthe name of serpent. But does it follow, because the principle of evil\nin the Avesta is called serpent, or azhi dahaka, that therefore the\nserpent mentioned in the third chapter of Genesis must be borrowed\nfrom Persia? Neither in the Veda nor in the Avesta does the serpent\never assume that subtil and insinuating form as in Genesis; and the\ncurse pronounced on it, 'to be cursed above all cattle, and above\nevery beast of the field,' is not in keeping with the relation of\nV_r_itra to Indra, or Ahriman to Ormuzd, who face each other almost as\nequals. In later books, such as 1 Chronicles xxi. 1, where Satan is\nmentioned as provoking David to number Israel (the very same\nprovocation which in 2 Samuel xxiv. 1 is ascribed to the anger of the\nLord moving David to number Israel and Judah), and in all the passages\nof the New Testament where the power of evil is spoken of as a person,\nwe may admit the influence of Persian ideas and Persian expressions,\nthough even here strict proof is by no means easy. As to the serpent\nin Paradise, it is a conception that might have sprung up among the\nJews as well as among the Brahmans; and the serpent that beguiled Eve\nseems hardly to invite comparison with the much grander conceptions of\nthe terrible power of V_r_itra and Ahriman in the Veda and Avesta.\n\nDr. Spiegel next discusses the similarity between the Garden of Eden\nand the Paradise of the Zoroastrians, and though he admits that here\nagain he relies chiefly on the Bundehesh, a work of the Sassanian\nperiod, he maintains that that work may well be compared to Genesis,\nbecause it contains none but really ancient traditions. We do not for\na moment deny that this may be so, but in a case like the present,\nwhere everything depends on exact dates, we decline to listen to such\na plea. We value Dr. Spiegel's translations from the Bundehesh most\nhighly, and we believe with him (p. 283) that there is little doubt as\nto the Pishon being the Indus, and the Gihon the Jaxartes. The\nidentification, too, of the Persian river-name Ranha (the Vedic Rasa)\nwith the Araxes, the name given by Herodotus (i. 202) to the Jaxartes,\nseems very ingenious and well established. But we should still like to\nknow why and in what language the Indus was first called Pishon, and\nthe Jaxartes, or, it may be, the Oxus, Gihon.\n\nWe next come to the two trees in the garden of Eden, the tree of\nknowledge and the tree of life. Dr. Windischmann has shown that the\nIranians, too, were acquainted with two trees, one called Gaokerena,\nbearing the white Haoma, the other called the Painless tree. We are\ntold first that these two trees are the same as the one fig tree out\nof which the Indians believe the world to have been created. Now,\nfirst of all, the Indians believed no such thing, and secondly, there\nis the same difference between one and two trees as there is between\nNorth and South. But we confess that until we know a good deal more\nabout these two trees of the Iranians, we feel no inclination whatever\nto compare the Painless tree and the tree of knowledge of good and\nevil, though perhaps the white Haoma tree might remind us of the tree\nof life, considering that Haoma, as well as the Indian Soma, was\nsupposed to give immortality to those who drank its juice. We\nlikewise consider the comparison of the Cherubim who keep the way of\nthe tree of life and the guardians of the Soma in the Veda and Avesta,\nas deserving attention, and we should like to see the etymological\nderivation of Cherubim from [Greek: gryphes], Greifen, and of Seraphim\nfrom the Sanskrit sarpa, serpents, either confirmed or refuted.\n\nThe Deluge is not mentioned in the sacred writings of the\nZoroastrians, nor in the hymns of the Rig-veda. It is mentioned,\nhowever, in one of the latest Brahma_n_as, and the carefully balanced\narguments of Burnouf, who considered the tradition of the Deluge as\nborrowed by the Indians from Semitic neighbours, seem to us to be\nstrengthened, rather than weakened, by the isolated appearance of the\nstory of the Deluge in this one passage out of the whole of the Vedic\nliterature. Nothing, however, has yet been pointed out to force us to\nadmit a Semitic origin for the story of the Flood, as told in the\n_S_atapatha-brahma_n_a, and afterwards repeated in the Mahabharata and\nthe Pura_n_as: the number of days being really the only point on which\nthe two accounts startle us by their agreement.\n\nThat Noah's ark rested upon the mountain of Ararat, and that Ararat\nmay admit of a Persian etymology, is nothing to the point. The\netymology itself is ingenious, but no more. The same remark applies to\nall the rest of Dr. Spiegel's arguments. Thraetaona, who has before\nbeen compared to Noah, divided his land among his three sons, and gave\nIran to the youngest, an injustice which exasperated his brothers, who\nmurdered him. Now it is true that Noah, too, had three sons, but here\nthe similarity ends; for that Terach had three sons, and that one of\nthem only, Abram, took possession of the land of promise, and that of\nthe two sons of Isaac, the youngest became the heir, is again of no\nconsequence for our immediate purpose, though it may remind Dr.\nSpiegel and others of the history of Thraetaona. We agree with Dr.\nSpiegel, that Zoroaster's character resembles most closely the true\nSemitic notion of a prophet. He is considered worthy of personal\nintercourse with Ormuzd; he receives from Ormuzd every word, though\nnot, as Dr. Spiegel says, every letter of the law. But if Zoroaster\nwas a real character, so was Abraham, and their being like each other\nproves in no way that they lived in the same place, or at the same\ntime, or that they borrowed aught one from the other. What Dr. Spiegel\nsays of the Persian name of the Deity, Ahura, is very doubtful. Ahura,\nhe says, as well as ahu, means lord, and must be traced back to the\nroot ah, the Sanskrit as, which means to be, so that Ahura would\nsignify the same as Jahve, he who is. The root 'as' no doubt means to\nbe, but it has that meaning because it originally meant to breathe.\nFrom it, in its original sense of breathing, the Hindus formed asu,\nbreath, and asura, the name of God, whether it meant the breathing\none, or the giver of breath. This asura became in Zend ahura, and if\nit assumed the general meaning of Lord, this is as much a secondary\nmeaning as the meaning of demon or evil spirit, which asura assumed in\nthe later Sanskrit of the Brahma_n_as.\n\nAfter this, Dr. Spiegel proceeds to sum up his evidence. He has no\nmore to say, but he believes that he has proved the following points:\na very early intercourse between Semitic and Aryan nations; a common\nbelief shared by both in a paradise situated near the sources of the\nOxus and Jaxartes; the dwelling together of Abraham and Zoroaster in\nHaran, Arran, or Airyana vae_g_a. Semitic and Aryan nations, he tells\nus, still live together in those parts of the world, and so it was\nfrom the beginning. As the form of the Jewish traditions comes nearer\nto the Persian than to the Indian traditions, we are asked to believe\nthat these two races lived in the closest contact before, from this\nancient hearth of civilisation, they started towards the West and the\nEast--that is to say, before Abraham migrated to Canaan, and before\nIndia was peopled by the Brahmans.\n\nWe have given a fair account of Dr. Spiegel's arguments, and we need\nnot say that we should have hailed with equal pleasure any solid facts\nby which to establish either the dependence of Genesis on the\nZend-Avesta, or the dependence of the Zend-Avesta on Genesis. It would\nbe absurd to resist facts where facts exist; nor can we imagine any\nreason why, if Abraham came into personal contact with Zoroaster, the\nJewish patriarch should have learnt nothing from the Iranian prophet,\nor vice versa. If such an intercourse could be established, it would\nbut serve to strengthen the historical character of the books of the\nOld Testament, and would be worth more than all the elaborate theories\nthat have been started on the purely miraculous origin of these books.\nBut though we by no means deny that some more tangible points of\nresemblance may yet be discovered between the Old Testament and the\nZend-Avesta, we must protest against having so interesting and so\nimportant a matter handled in such an unbusinesslike manner.\n\n_April, 1864._\n\n\n\n\nVIII.\n\nTHE MODERN PARSIS.[50]\n\nI.\n\n\nIt is not fair to speak of any religious sect by a name to which its\nmembers object. Yet the fashion of speaking of the followers of\nZoroaster as Fire-worshippers is so firmly established that it will\nprobably continue long after the last believers in Ormuzd have\ndisappeared from the face of the earth. At the present moment, the\nnumber of the Zoroastrians has dwindled down so much that they hardly\nfind a place in the religious statistics of the world. Berghaus in his\n'Physical Atlas' gives the following division of the human race\naccording to religion:\n\nBuddhists          31.2 per cent.\nChristians         30.7    \"\nMohammedans        15.7    \"\nBrahmanists        13.4    \"\nHeathens            8.7    \"\nJews                0.3    \"\n\n[Footnote 50: 'The Manners and Customs of the Parsees.' By Dadabhai\nNaoroji, Esq. Liverpool, 1861.\n\n'The Parsee Religion,' By Dadabhai Naoroji, Esq. Liverpool, 1861.]\n\nHe nowhere states the number of the Fire-worshippers, nor does he tell\nus under what head they are comprised in his general computation. The\ndifficulties of a religious census are very great, particularly when\nwe have to deal with Eastern nations. About two hundred years ago,\ntravellers estimated the Gabars (as they are called in Persia) at\neighty thousand families, or about 400,000 souls. At present the\nParsis in Western India amount to about 100,000, to which, if we add\n5,500 in Yazd and Kirman, we get a total of 105,500. The number of the\nJews is commonly estimated at 3,600,000; and if they represent 0.3 per\ncent of mankind, the Fire-worshippers could not claim at present more\nthan about 0.01 per cent of the whole population of the earth. Yet\nthere were periods in the history of the world when the worship of\nOrmuzd threatened to rise triumphant on the ruins of the temples of\nall other gods. If the battles of Marathon and Salamis had been lost,\nand Greece had succumbed to Persia, the state religion of the empire\nof Cyrus, which was the worship of Ormuzd, might have become the\nreligion of the whole civilised world. Persia had absorbed the\nAssyrian and Babylonian empires; the Jews were either in Persian\ncaptivity or under Persian sway at home; the sacred monuments of Egypt\nhad been mutilated by the hands of Persian soldiers. The edicts of the\ngreat king, the king of kings, were sent to India, to Greece, to\nScythia, and to Egypt; and if 'by the grace of Auramazda' Darius had\ncrushed the liberty of Greece, the purer faith of Zoroaster might\neasily have superseded the Olympian fables. Again, under the Sassanian\ndynasty (226-651 A.D.) the revived national faith of the Zoroastrians\nassumed such vigour that Shapur II, like another Diocletian, could\naim at the extirpation of the Christian faith. The sufferings of the\npersecuted Christians in the East were as terrible as they had ever\nbeen in the West; nor was it by the weapons of Roman emperors or by\nthe arguments of Christian divines that the fatal blow was dealt to\nthe throne of Cyrus and the altars of Ormuzd. The power of Persia was\nbroken at last by the Arabs; and it is due to them that the religion\nof Ormuzd, once the terror of the world, is now, and has been for the\nlast thousand years, a mere curiosity in the eyes of the historian.\n\nThe sacred writings of the Zoroastrians, commonly called the\nZend-Avesta, have for about a century occupied the attention of\nEuropean scholars, and, thanks to the adventurous devotion of Anquetil\nDuperron, and the careful researches of Rask, Burnouf, Westergaard,\nSpiegel, and Haug, we have gradually been enabled to read and\ninterpret what remains of the ancient language of the Persian\nreligion. The problem was not an easy one, and had it not been for the\nnew light which the science of language has shed on the laws of human\nspeech, it would have been as impossible to Burnouf as it was to Hyde,\nthe celebrated Professor of Hebrew and Arabic at Oxford, to interpret\nwith grammatical accuracy the ancient remnants of Zoroaster's\ndoctrine. How that problem was solved is well known to all who take an\ninterest in the advancement of modern scholarship. It was as great an\nachievement as the deciphering of the cuneiform edicts of Darius; and\nno greater compliment could have been paid to Burnouf and his\nfellow-labourers than that scholars, without inclination to test their\nmethod, and without leisure to follow these indefatigable pioneers\nthrough all the intricate paths of their researches, should have\npronounced the deciphering of the ancient Zend as well as of the\nancient Persian of the Achaemenian period to be impossible, incredible,\nand next to miraculous.\n\nWhile the scholars of Europe are thus engaged in disinterring the\nancient records of the religion of Zoroaster, it is of interest to\nlearn what has become of that religion in those few settlements where\nit is still professed by small communities. Though every religion is\nof real and vital interest in its earliest state only, yet its later\ndevelopment too, with all its misunderstandings, faults, and\ncorruptions, offers many an instructive lesson to the thoughtful\nstudent of history. Here is a religion, one of the most ancient of the\nworld, once the state religion of the most powerful empire, driven\naway from its native soil, deprived of political influence, without\neven the prestige of a powerful or enlightened priesthood, and yet\nprofessed by a handful of exiles--men of wealth, intelligence, and\nmoral worth in Western India--with an unhesitating fervour such as is\nseldom to be found in larger religious communities. It is well worth\nthe serious consideration of the philosopher and the divine to\ndiscover, if possible, the spell by which this apparently effete\nreligion continues to command the attachment of the enlightened Parsis\nof India, and makes them turn a deaf ear to the allurements of the\nBrahmanic worship and the earnest appeals of Christian missionaries.\nWe believe that to many of our readers the two pamphlets, lately\npublished by a distinguished member of the Parsi community, Mr.\nDadabhai Naoroji, Professor of Guzerati at University College,\nLondon, will open many problems of a more than passing interest. One\nis a Paper read before the Liverpool Philomathic Society, 'On the\nManners and Customs of the Parsees;' the other is a Lecture delivered\nbefore the Liverpool Literary and Philosophical Society, 'On the\nParsee Religion.'\n\nIn the first of these pamphlets, we are told that the small community\nof Parsis in Western India is at the present moment divided into two\nparties, the Conservatives and the Liberals. Both are equally attached\nto the faith of their ancestors, but they differ from each other in\ntheir modes of life--the Conservatives clinging to all that is\nestablished and customary, however absurd and mischievous, the\nLiberals desiring to throw off the abuses of former ages, and to avail\nthemselves, as much as is consistent with their religion and their\nOriental character, of the advantages of European civilisation. 'If I\nsay,' writes our informant, 'that the Parsees use tables, knives and\nforks, &c., for taking their dinners, it would be true with regard to\none portion, and entirely untrue with regard to another. In one house\nyou see in the dining-room the dinner table furnished with all the\nEnglish apparatus for its agreeable purposes; next door, perhaps, you\nsee the gentleman perfectly satisfied with his primitive good old mode\nof squatting on a piece of mat, with a large brass or copper plate\n(round, and of the size of an ordinary tray) before him, containing\nall the dishes of his dinner, spread on it in small heaps, and placed\nupon a stool about two or three inches high, with a small tinned\ncopper cup at his side for his drinks, and his fingers for his knives\nand forks. He does this, not because he cannot afford to have a\ntable, &c., but because he would not have them in preference to his\nancestral mode of life, or, perhaps, the thought has not occurred to\nhim that he need have anything of the kind.'\n\nInstead, therefore, of giving a general description of Parsi life at\npresent, Mr. Dadabhai Naoroji gives us two distinct accounts--first of\nthe old, secondly of the new school. He describes the incidents in the\ndaily life of a Parsi of the old school, from the moment he gets out\nof bed to the time of his going to rest, and the principal ceremonies\nfrom the hour of his birth to the hour of his burial. Although we can\ngather from the tenour of his writings that the author himself belongs\nto the Liberals, we must give him credit for the fairness with which\nhe describes the party to which he is opposed. There is no sneer, no\nexpression of contempt anywhere, even when, as in the case of the\nNirang, the temptation must have been considerable. What this Nirang\nis we may best state in the words of the writer:\n\n     'The Nirang is the urine of cow, ox, or she-goat, and the\n     rubbing of it over the face and hands is the second thing a\n     Parsee does after getting out of bed. Either before applying\n     the Nirang to the face and hands, or while it remains on the\n     hands after being applied, he should not touch anything\n     directly with his hands; but, in order to wash out the\n     Nirang, he either asks somebody else to pour water on his\n     hands, or resorts to the device of taking hold of the pot\n     through the intervention of a piece of cloth, such as a\n     handkerchief or his Sudra, i. e. his blouse. He first pours\n     water on one hand, then takes the pot in that hand and\n     washes his other hand, face and feet.'\n\nStrange as this process of purification may appear, it becomes\nperfectly disgusting when we are told that women, after childbirth,\nhave not only to undergo this sacred ablution, but have actually to\ndrink a little of the Nirang, and that the same rite is imposed on\nchildren at the time of their investiture with the Sudra and Kusti,\nthe badges of the Zoroastrian faith. The Liberal party have completely\nsurrendered this objectionable custom, but the old school still keep\nit up, though their faith, as Dadabhai Naoroji says, in the efficacy\nof Nirang to drive away Satan may be shaken. 'The Reformers,' our\nauthor writes, 'maintain that there is no authority whatever in the\noriginal books of Zurthosht for the observance of this dirty practice,\nbut that it is altogether a later introduction. The old adduce the\nauthority of the works of some of the priests of former days, and say\nthe practice ought to be observed. They quote one passage from the\nZend-Avesta corroborative of their opinion, which their opponents deny\nas at all bearing upon the point.' Here, whatever our own feelings may\nbe about the Nirang, truth obliges us to side with the old school, and\nif our author had consulted the ninth Fasgard of the Vendidad (page\n120, line 21, in Brockhaus's edition), he would have seen that both\nthe drinking and the rubbing in of the so-called Gaomaezo--i. e.\nNirang--are clearly enjoined by Zoroaster in certain purificatory\nrights. The custom rests, therefore, not only on the authority of a\nfew priests of former days, but on the ipsissima verba of the\nZend-Avesta, the revealed word of Ormuzd; and if, as Dadabhai Naoroji\nwrites, the Reformers of the day will not go beyond abolishing and\ndisavowing the ceremonies and notions that have no authority in the\noriginal Zend-Avesta, we are afraid that the washing with Nirang, and\neven the drinking of it, will have to be maintained. A pious Parsi has\nto say his prayers sixteen times at least every day--first on getting\nout of bed, then during the Nirang operation, again when he takes his\nbath, again when he cleanses his teeth, and when he has finished his\nmorning ablutions. The same prayers are repeated whenever, during the\nday, a Parsi has to wash his hands. Every meal--and there are\nthree--begins and ends with prayer, besides the grace, and before\ngoing to bed the work of the day is closed by a prayer. The most\nextraordinary thing is that none of the Parsis--not even their\npriests--understand the ancient language in which these prayers are\ncomposed. We must quote the words of our author, who is himself of the\npriestly caste, and who says:\n\n     'All prayers, on every occasion, are said, or rather\n     recited, in the old original Zend language, neither the\n     reciter nor the people around intended to be edified,\n     understanding a word of it. There is no pulpit among the\n     Parsees. On several occasions, as on the occasion of the\n     Ghumbars, the bimestral holidays, the third day's ceremonies\n     for the dead, and other religious or special holidays, there\n     are assemblages in the temple; prayers are repeated, in\n     which more or less join, but there is no discourse in the\n     vernacular of the people. Ordinarily, every one goes to the\n     fire-temple whenever he likes, or, if it is convenient to\n     him, recites his prayers himself, and as long as he likes,\n     and gives, if so inclined, something to the priests to pray\n     for him.'\n\nIn another passage our author says:\n\n     'Far from being the teachers of the true doctrines and\n     duties of their religion, the priests are generally the most\n     bigoted and superstitious, and exercise much injurious\n     influence over the women especially, who, until lately,\n     received no education at all. The priests have, however, now\n     begun to feel their degraded position. Many of them, if they\n     can do so, bring up their sons in any other profession but\n     their own. There are, perhaps, a dozen among the whole body\n     of professional priests who lay claim to a knowledge of the\n     Zend-Avesta: but the only respect in which they are superior\n     to their brethren is, that they have learnt the meanings of\n     the words of the books as they are taught, without knowing\n     the language, either philosophically or grammatically.'\n\nMr. Dadabhai Naoroji proceeds to give a clear and graphic description\nof the ceremonies to be observed at the birth and the investiture of\nchildren, at the betrothal of children, at marriages and at funerals,\nand he finally dismisses some of the distinguishing features of the\nnational character of the Parsis. The Parsis are monogamists. They do\nnot eat anything cooked by a person of another religion; they object\nto beef, pork, or ham. Their priesthood is hereditary. None but the\nson of a priest can be a priest, but it is not obligatory for the son\nof a priest to take orders. The high-priest is called Dustoor, the\nothers are called Mobed.\n\nThe principal points for which the Liberals among the Parsis are, at\nthe present moment, contending, are the abolition of the filthy\npurifications by means of Nirang; the reduction of the large number of\nobligatory prayers; the prohibition of early betrothal and marriage;\nthe suppression of extravagance at weddings and funerals; the\neducation of women, and their admission into general society. A\nsociety has been formed, called 'the Rahanumaee Mazdiashna,' i. e. the\nGuide of the Worshippers of God. Meetings are held, speeches made,\ntracts distributed. A counter society, too, has been started, called\n'the True Guides;' and we readily believe what Mr. Dadabhai Naoroji\ntells us--that, as in Europe, so in India, the Reformers have found\nthemselves strengthened by the intolerant bigotry and the weakness of\nthe arguments of their opponents. The Liberals have made considerable\nprogress, but their work is as yet but half done, and they will never\nbe able to carry out their religious and social reforms successfully,\nwithout first entering on a critical study of the Zend-Avesta, to\nwhich, as yet, they profess to appeal as the highest authority in\nmatters of faith, law, and morality.\n\nWe propose, in another article, to consider the state of religion\namong the Parsis of the present day.\n\n_August, 1862._\n\n\nII.\n\nThe so-called Fire-worshippers certainly do not worship the fire, and\nthey naturally object to a name which seems to place them on a level\nwith mere idolaters. All they admit is, that in their youth they are\ntaught to face some luminous object while worshipping God (p. 7), and\nthat they regard the fire, like other great natural phenomena, as an\nemblem of the Divine power (p. 26). But they assure us that they\nnever ask assistance or blessings from an unintelligent material\nobject, nor is it even considered necessary to turn the face to any\nemblem whatever in praying to Ormuzd. The most honest, however, among\nthe Parsis, and those who would most emphatically protest against the\nidea of their ever paying divine honours to the sun or the fire, admit\nthe existence of some kind of national instinct--an indescribable awe\nfelt by every Parsi with regard to light and fire. The fact that the\nParsis are the only Eastern people who entirely abstain from smoking\nis very significant; and we know that most of them would rather not\nblow out a candle, if they could help it. It is difficult to analyse\nsuch a feeling, but it seems, in some respects, similar to that which\nmany Christians have about the cross. They do not worship the cross,\nbut they have peculiar feelings of reverence for it, and it is\nintimately connected with some of their most sacred rites.\n\nBut although most Parsis would be very ready to tell us what they do\nnot worship, there are but few who could give a straightforward answer\nif asked what they do worship and believe. Their priests, no doubt,\nwould say that they worship Ormuzd and believe in Zoroaster, his\nprophet; and they would appeal to the Zend-Avesta, as containing the\nWord of God, revealed by Ormuzd to Zoroaster. If more closely pressed,\nhowever, they would have to admit that they cannot understand one word\nof the sacred writings in which they profess to believe, nor could\nthey give any reason why they believe Zoroaster to have been a true\nprophet, and not an impostor. 'As a body,' says Mr. Dadabhai Naoroji,\n'the priests are not only ignorant of the duties and objects of their\nown profession, but are entirely uneducated, except that they are able\nto read and write, and that, also, often very imperfectly. They do not\nunderstand a single word of their prayers and recitations, which are\nall in the old Zend language.'\n\nWhat, then, do the laity know about religion? What makes the old\nteaching of Zoroaster so dear to them that, in spite of all\ndifferences of opinion among themselves, young and old seem equally\ndetermined never to join any other religious community? Incredible as\nit may sound, we are told by the best authority, by an enlightened yet\nstrictly orthodox Parsi, that there is hardly a man or a woman who\ncould give an account of the faith that is in them. 'The whole\nreligious education of a Parsi child consists in preparing by rote a\ncertain number of prayers in Zend, without understanding a word of\nthem; the knowledge of the doctrines of their religion being left to\nbe picked up from casual conversation.' A Parsi, in fact, hardly knows\nwhat his faith is. The Zend-Avesta is to him a sealed book; and though\nthere is a Guzerati translation of it, that translation is not made\nfrom the original, but from a Pehlevi paraphrase, nor is it recognised\nby the priests as an authorised version. Till about five and twenty\nyears ago, there was no book from which a Parsi of an inquiring mind\ncould gather the principles of his religion. At that time, and, as it\nwould seem, chiefly in order to counteract the influence of Christian\nmissionaries, a small Dialogue was written in Guzerati--a kind of\nCatechism, giving, in the form of questions and answers, the most\nimportant tenets of Parsiism. We shall quote some passages from this\nDialogue, as translated by Mr. Dadabhai Naoroji. The subject of it is\nthus described:\n\n     _A few Questions and Answers to acquaint the Children of the\n     holy Zarthosti Community with the Subject of the Mazdiashna\n     Religion, _i. e._ the Worship of God._\n\n     _Question._ Whom do we, of the Zarthosti community, believe\n     in?\n\n     _Answer._ We believe in only one God, and do not believe in\n     any besides Him.\n\n     _Q._ Who is that one God?\n\n     _A._ The God who created the heavens, the earth, the angels,\n     the stars, the sun, the moon, the fire, the water, or all\n     the four elements, and all things of the two worlds; that\n     God we believe in. Him we worship, him we invoke, him we\n     adore.\n\n     _Q._ Do we not believe in any other God?\n\n     _A._ Whoever believes in any other God but this, is an\n     infidel, and shall suffer the punishment of hell.\n\n     _Q._ What is the form of our God?\n\n     _A._ Our God has neither face nor form, colour nor shape,\n     nor fixed place. There is no other like him. He is himself\n     singly such a glory that we cannot, praise or describe him;\n     nor our mind comprehend him.\n\nSo far, no one could object to this Catechism, and it must be clear\nthat the Dualism, which is generally mentioned as the distinguishing\nfeature of the Persian religion--the belief in two Gods, Ormuzd, the\nprinciple of good, and Ahriman, the principle of evil--is not\ncountenanced by the modern Parsis. Whether it exists in the\nZend-Avesta is another question, which, however, cannot be discussed\nat present.[51]\n\n     The Catechism continues:\n\n     _Q._ What is our religion?\n\n     _A._ Our religion is 'Worship of God.'\n\n     _Q._ Whence did we receive our religion?\n\n     _A._ God's true prophet--the true Zurthost (Zoroaster)\n     Asphantaman Anoshirwan--brought the religion to us from God.\n\nHere it is curious to observe that not a single question is asked as\nto the claim of Zoroaster to be considered a true prophet. He is not\ntreated as a divine being, nor even as the son of Ormuzd. Plato,\nindeed, speaks of Zoroaster as the son of Oromazes (Alc. i. p. 122 a),\nbut this is a mistake, not countenanced, as far as we are aware, by\nany of the Parsi writings, whether ancient or modern. With the Parsis,\nZoroaster is simply a wise man, a prophet favoured by God, and\nadmitted into God's immediate presence; but all this, on his own\nshowing only, and without any supernatural credentials, except some\nfew miracles recorded of him in books of doubtful authority. This\nshows, at all events, how little the Parsis have been exposed to\ncontroversial discussions; for, as this is so weak a point in their\nsystem that it would have invited the attacks of every opponent, we\nmay be sure that the Dustoors would have framed some argument in\ndefence, if such defence had ever been needed.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe next extract from the Catechism treats of the canonical books:\n\n[Footnote 51: See page 140.]\n\n     _Q._ What religion has our prophet brought us from God?\n\n     _A._ The disciples of our prophet have recorded in several\n     books that religion. Many of these books were destroyed\n     during Alexander's conquest; the remainder of the books were\n     preserved with great care and respect by the Sassanian\n     kings. Of these again, the greater portion were destroyed at\n     the Mohammedan conquest by Khalif Omar, so that we have now\n     very few books remaining; viz. the Vandidad, the Yazashne,\n     the Visparad, the Khordeh Avesta, the Vistasp Nusk, and a\n     few Pehlevi books. Resting our faith upon these few books,\n     we now remain devoted to our good Mazdiashna religion. We\n     consider these books as heavenly books, because God sent the\n     tidings of these books to us through the holy Zurthost.\n\nHere, again, we see theological science in its infancy. 'We consider\nthese books as heavenly books because God sent the tidings of these\nbooks to us through the holy Zurthost,' is not very powerful logic. It\nwould have been more simple to say, 'We consider them heavenly books\nbecause we consider them heavenly books.' However, whether heavenly or\nnot, these few books exist. They form the only basis of the\nZoroastrian religion, and the principal source from which it is\npossible to derive any authentic information as to its origin, its\nhistory, and its real character.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThat the Parsis are of a tolerant character with regard to such of\ntheir doctrines as are not of vital importance, may be seen from the\nfollowing extract:\n\n     _Q._ Whose descendants are we?\n\n     _A._ Of Gayomars. By his progeny was Persia populated.\n\n     _Q._ Was Gayomars the first man?\n\n     _A._ According to our religion he was so, but the wise men\n     of our community, of the Chinese, the Hindus, and several\n     other nations, dispute the assertion, and say that there was\n     human population on the earth before Gayomars.\n\nThe moral precepts which are embodied in this Catechism do the highest\ncredit to the Parsis:\n\n     _Q._ What commands has God sent us through his prophet, the\n     exalted Zurthost?\n\n     _A._ To know God as one; to know the prophet, the exalted\n     Zurthost, as the true prophet; to believe the religion and\n     the Avesta brought by him as true beyond all manner of\n     doubt; to believe in the goodness of God; not to disobey any\n     of the commands of the Mazdiashna religion; to avoid evil\n     deeds; to exert for good deeds; to pray five times in the\n     day; to believe on the reckoning and justice on the fourth\n     morning after death; to hope for heaven and to fear hell; to\n     consider doubtless the day of general destruction and\n     resurrection; to remember always that God has done what he\n     willed, and shall do what he wills; to face some luminous\n     object while worshipping God.\n\nThen follow several paragraphs which are clearly directed against\nChristian missionaries, and more particularly against the doctrine of\nvicarious sacrifice and prayer:\n\n     'Some deceivers, [the Catechism says,] with the view of\n     acquiring exaltation in this world, have set themselves up\n     as prophets, and, going among the labouring and ignorant\n     people, have persuaded them that, \"if you commit sin, I\n     shall intercede for you, I shall plead for you, I shall save\n     you,\" and thus deceive them; but the wise among the people\n     know the deceit.'\n\nThis clearly refers to Christian missionaries, but whether Roman\nCatholic or Protestant is difficult to say. The answer given by the\nParsis is curious and significant:\n\n     'If any one commit sin,' they reply, 'under the belief that\n     he shall be saved by somebody, both the deceiver as well as\n     the deceived shall be damned to the day of Rasta Khez....\n     There is no saviour. In the other world you shall receive\n     the return according to your actions.... Your saviour is\n     your deeds, and God himself. He is the pardoner and the\n     giver. If you repent your sins and reform, and if the Great\n     Judge consider you worthy of pardon, or would be merciful to\n     you, He alone can and will save you.'\n\nIt would be a mistake to suppose that the whole doctrine of the Parsis\nis contained in the short Guzerati Catechism, translated by Mr.\nDadabhai Naoroji, still less in the fragmentary extracts here given.\nTheir sacred writings, the Ya_s_na, Vispered, and Vendidad, the\nproductions of much earlier ages, contain many ideas, both religious\nand mythological, which belong to the past, to the childhood of our\nrace, and which no educated Parsi could honestly profess to believe in\nnow. This difficulty of reconciling the more enlightened faith of the\npresent generation with the mythological phraseology of their old\nsacred writings is solved by the Parsis in a very simple manner. They\ndo not, like Roman Catholics, prohibit the reading of the Zend-Avesta;\nnor do they, like Protestants, encourage a critical study of their\nsacred texts. They simply ignore the originals of their sacred\nwritings. They repeat them in their prayers without attempting to\nunderstand them, and they acknowledge the insufficiency of every\ntranslation of the Zend-Avesta that has yet been made, either in\nPehlevi, Sanskrit, Guzerati, French, or German. Each Parsi has to pick\nup his religion as best he may. Till lately, even the Catechism did\nnot form a necessary part of a child's religious education. Thus the\nreligious belief of the present Parsi communities is reduced to two or\nthree fundamental doctrines; and these, though professedly resting on\nthe teaching of Zoroaster, receive their real sanction from a much\nhigher authority. A Parsi believes in one God, to whom he addresses\nhis prayers. His morality is comprised in these words--pure thoughts,\npure words, pure deeds. Believing in the punishment of vice and the\nreward of virtue, he trusts for pardon to the mercy of God. There is a\ncharm, no doubt, in so short a creed; and if the whole of Zoroaster's\nteaching were confined to this, there would be some truth in what his\nfollowers say of their religion--namely, that 'it is for all, and not\nfor any particular nation.'\n\nIf now we ask again, how it is that neither Christians, nor Hindus,\nnor Mohammedans have had any considerable success in converting the\nParsis, and why even the more enlightened members of that small\ncommunity, though fully aware of the many weak points of their own\ntheology, and deeply impressed with the excellence of the Christian\nreligion, morals, and general civilisation, scorn the idea of ever\nmigrating from the sacred ruins of their ancient faith, we are able to\ndiscover some reasons; though they are hardly sufficient to account\nfor so extraordinary a fact?\n\nFirst, the very compactness of the modern Parsi creed accounts for the\ntenacity with which the exiles of Western India cling to it. A Parsi\nis not troubled with many theological problems or difficulties. Though\nhe professes a general belief in the sacred writings of Zoroaster, he\nis not asked to profess any belief in the stories incidentally\nmentioned in the Zend-Avesta. If it is said in the Yasna that\nZoroaster was once visited by Homa, who appeared before him in a\nbrilliant supernatural body, no doctrine is laid down as to the exact\nnature of Homa. It is said that Homa was worshipped by certain ancient\nsages, Viva_n_hvat, Athwya, and Thrita, and that, as a reward for\ntheir worship, great heroes were born as their sons. The fourth who\nworshipped Homa was Pourusha_s_pa, and he was rewarded by the birth of\nhis son Zoroaster. Now the truth is, that Homa is the same as the\nSanskrit Soma, well known from the Veda as an intoxicating beverage\nused at the great sacrifices, and afterwards raised to the rank of a\ndeity. The Parsis are fully aware of this, but they do not seem in the\nleast disturbed by the occurrence of such 'fables and endless\ngenealogies.' They would not be shocked if they were told, what is a\nfact, that most of these old wives' fables have their origin in the\nreligion which they most detest, the religion of the Veda, and that\nthe heroes of the Zend-Avesta are the same who, with slightly changed\nnames, appear again as Jemshid, Feridun, Gershasp, &c., in the epic\npoetry of Firdusi.\n\nAnother fact which accounts for the attachment of the Parsis to their\nreligion is its remote antiquity and its former glory. Though age has\nlittle to do with truth, the length of time for which any system has\nlasted seems to offer a vague argument in favour of its strength. It\nis a feeling which the Parsi shares in common with the Jew and the\nBrahman, and which even the Christian missionary appeals to when\nconfronting the systems of later prophets.\n\nThirdly, it is felt by the Parsis that in changing their religion,\nthey would not only relinquish the heirloom of their remote\nforefathers, but of their own fathers; and it is felt as a dereliction\nof filial piety to give up what was most precious to those whose\nmemory is most precious and almost sacred to themselves.\n\nIf in spite of all this, many people, most competent to judge, look\nforward with confidence to the conversion of the Parsis, it is\nbecause, in the most essential points, they have already, though\nunconsciously, approached as near as possible to the pure doctrines of\nChristianity. Let them but read the Zend-Avesta, in which they profess\nto believe, and they will find that their faith is no longer the faith\nof the Ya_s_na, the Vendidad, and the Vispered. As historical relics,\nthese works, if critically interpreted, will always retain a prominent\nplace in the great library of the ancient world. As oracles of\nreligious faith, they are defunct, and a mere anachronism in the age\nin which we live.\n\nOn the other hand, let missionaries read their Bible, and let them\npreach that Christianity which once conquered the world--the genuine\nand unshackled Gospel of Christ and the Apostles. Let them respect\nnative prejudices, and be tolerant with regard to all that can be\ntolerated in a Christian community. Let them consider that\nChristianity is not a gift to be pressed on unwilling minds, but the\nhighest of all privileges which natives can receive at the hands of\ntheir present rulers. Natives of independent and honest character\ncannot afford at present to join the ranks of converts without losing\nthat true caste which no man ought to lose--namely, self-respect. They\nare driven to prop up their tottering religions, rather than profess a\nfaith which seems dictated to them by their conquerors. Such feelings\nought to be respected. Finally, let missionaries study the sacred\nwritings on which the faith of the Parsis is professedly founded. Let\nthem examine the bulwarks which they mean to overthrow. They will find\nthem less formidable from within than from without. But they will also\ndiscover that they rest on a foundation which ought never to be\ntouched--a faith in one God, the Creator, the Ruler, and the Judge of\nthe world.\n\n_August, 1862._\n\n\n\n\nIX.\n\nBUDDHISM.[52]\n\n\nIf the command of St. Paul, 'Prove all things, hold fast that which is\ngood,' may be supposed to refer to spiritual things, and, more\nespecially, to religious doctrines, it must be confessed that few\nonly, whether theologians or laymen, have ever taken to heart the\napostle's command. How many candidates for holy orders are there who\ncould give a straightforward answer if asked to enumerate the\nprincipal religions of the world, or to state the names of their\nfounders, and the titles of the works which are still considered by\nmillions of human beings as the sacred authorities for their religious\nbelief? To study such books as the Koran of the Mohammedans, the\nZend-Avesta of the Parsis, the King's of the Confucians, the\nTao-te-King of the Taoists, the Vedas of the Brahmans, the Tripi_t_aka\nof the Buddhists, the Sutras of the Jains, or the Granth of the Sikhs,\nwould be considered by many mere waste of time. Yet St. Paul's command\nis very clear and simple; and to maintain that it referred to the\nheresies of his own time only, or to the philosophical systems of the\nGreeks and Romans, would be to narrow the horizon of the apostle's\nmind, and to destroy the general applicability of his teaching to all\ntimes and to all countries. Many will ask what possible good could be\nderived from the works of men who must have been either deceived or\ndeceivers, nor would it be difficult to quote some passages in order\nto show the utter absurdity and worthlessness of the religious books\nof the Hindus and Chinese. But this was not the spirit in which the\napostle of the Gentiles addressed himself to the Epicureans and\nStoics, nor is this the feeling with which a thoughtful Christian and\na sincere believer in the divine government of the world is likely to\nrise from a perusal of any of the books which he knows to be or to\nhave been the only source of spiritual light and comfort to thousands\nand thousands among the dwellers on earth.\n\n[Footnote 52: 'Le Bouddha et sa Religion.' Par J. Barthelemy\nSaint-Hilaire, Membre de l'Institut. Paris, 1860.]\n\nMany are the advantages to be derived from a careful study of other\nreligions, but the greatest of all is that it teaches us to appreciate\nmore truly what we possess in our own. When do we feel the blessings\nof our own country more warmly and truly than when we return from\nabroad? It is the same with regard to religion. Let us see what other\nnations have had and still have in the place of religion; let us\nexamine the prayers, the worship, the theology even of the most highly\ncivilised races,--the Greeks, the Romans, the Hindus, the\nPersians,--and we shall then understand more thoroughly what blessings\nare vouchsafed to us in being allowed to breathe from the first breath\nof life the pure air of a land of Christian light and knowledge. We\nare too apt to take the greatest blessings as matters of course, and\neven religion forms no exception. We have done so little to gain our\nreligion, we have suffered so little in the cause of truth, that\nhowever highly we prize our own Christianity, we never prize it highly\nenough until we have compared it with the religions of the rest of the\nworld.\n\nThis, however, is not the only advantage; and we think that M.\nBarthelemy Saint-Hilaire has formed too low an estimate of the\nbenefits to be derived from a thoughtful study of the religions of\nmankind when he writes of Buddhism: 'Le seul, mais immense service que\nle Bouddhisme puisse nous rendre, c'est par son triste contraste de\nnous faire apprecier mieux encore la valeur inestimable de nos\ncroyances, en nous montrant tout ce qu'il en coute a l'humanite qui ne\nles partage point.' This is not all. If a knowledge of other countries\nand a study of the manners and customs of foreign nations teach us to\nappreciate what we have at home, they likewise form the best cure of\nthat national conceit and want of sympathy with which we are too apt\nto look on all that is strange and foreign. The feeling which led the\nHellenic races to divide the whole world into Greeks and Barbarians is\nso deeply engrained in human nature that not even Christianity has\nbeen able altogether to remove it. Thus when we cast our first glance\ninto the labyrinth of the religions of the world, all seems to us\ndarkness, self-deceit, and vanity. It sounds like a degradation of the\nvery name of religion to apply it to the wild ravings of Hindu Yogins\nor the blank blasphemies of Chinese Buddhists. But as we slowly and\npatiently wend our way through the dreary prisons, our own eyes seem\nto expand, and we perceive a glimmer of light where all was darkness\nat first. We learn to understand the saying of one who more than\nanybody had a right to speak with authority on this subject, that\n'there is no religion which does not contain a spark of truth.' Those\nwho would limit the riches of God's goodness and forbearance and long\nsuffering, and would hand over the largest portion of the human race\nto inevitable perdition, have never adduced a tittle of evidence from\nthe Gospel or from any other trustworthy source in support of so\nunhallowed a belief. They have generally appealed to the devilries and\norgies of heathen worship; they have quoted the blasphemies of\nOriental Sufis and the immoralities sanctioned by the successors of\nMohammed; but they have seldom, if ever, endeavoured to discover the\ntrue and original character of the strange forms of faith and worship\nwhich they call the work of the devil. If the Indians had formed their\nnotions of Christianity from the soldiers of Cortez and Pizarro, or if\nthe Hindus had studied the principles of Christian morality in the\nlives of Clive and Warren Hastings; or, to take a less extreme case,\nif a Mohammedan, settled in England, were to test the practical\nworking of Christian charity by the spirit displayed in the journals\nof our religious parties, their notions of Christianity would be about\nas correct as the ideas which thousands of educated Christians\nentertain of the diabolical character of heathen religion. Even\nChristianity has been depraved into Jesuitism and Mormonism, and if\nwe, as Protestants, claim the right to appeal to the Gospel as the\nonly test by which our faith is to be judged, we must grant a similar\nprivilege to Mohammedans and Buddhists, and to all who possess a\nwritten, and, as they believe, revealed authority for the articles of\ntheir faith.\n\nBut though no one is likely to deny the necessity of studying each\nreligion in its most ancient form and from its original documents,\nbefore we venture to pronounce our verdict, the difficulties of this\ntask are such that in them more than in anything else, must be sought\nthe cause why so few of our best thinkers and writers have devoted\nthemselves to a critical and historical study of the religions of the\nworld. All important religions have sprung up in the East. Their\nsacred books are written in Eastern tongues, and some of them are of\nsuch ancient date that those even who profess to believe in them,\nadmit that they are unable to understand them without the help of\ntranslations and commentaries. Until very lately the sacred books of\nthree of the most important religions, those of the Brahmans, the\nBuddhists, and the Parsis, were totally unknown in Europe. It was one\nof the most important results of the study of Sanskrit, or the ancient\nlanguage of India, that through it the key, not only to the sacred\nbooks of the Brahmans, the Vedas, but likewise to those of the\nBuddhists and Zoroastrians, was recovered. And nothing shows more\nstrikingly the rapid progress of Sanskrit scholarship than that even\nSir William Jones, whose name has still, with many, a more familiar\nsound than the names of Colebrooke, Burnouf, and Lassen, should have\nknown nothing of the Vedas; that he should never have read a line of\nthe canonical books of the Buddhists, and that he actually expressed\nhis belief that Buddha was the same as the Teutonic deity Wodan or\nOdin, and _S_akya, another name of Buddha, the same as Shishac, king\nof Egypt. The same distinguished scholar never perceived the intimate\nrelationship between the language of the Zend-Avesta and Sanskrit, and\nhe declared the whole of the Zoroastrian writings to be modern\nforgeries.\n\nEven at present we are not yet in possession of a complete edition,\nmuch less of any trustworthy translation, of the Vedas; we only\npossess the originals of a few books of the Buddhist canon; and though\nthe text of the Zend-Avesta has been edited in its entirety, its\ninterpretation is beset with greater difficulties than that of the\nVedas or the Tripi_t_aka. A study of the ancient religions of China,\nthose of Confucius and Lao-tse, presupposes an acquaintance with\nChinese, a language which it takes a life to learn thoroughly; and\neven the religion of Mohammed, though more accessible than any other\nEastern religion, cannot be fully examined except by a master of\nArabic. It is less surprising, therefore, than it might at first\nappear, that a comprehensive and scholarlike treatment of the\nreligions of the world should still be a desideratum. Scholars who\nhave gained a knowledge of the language, and thereby free access to\noriginal documents, find so much work at hand which none but\nthemselves can do, that they grudge the time for collecting and\narranging, for the benefit of the public at large, the results which\nthey have obtained. Nor need we wonder that critical historians should\nrather abstain from the study of the religions of antiquity than trust\nto mere translations and second-hand authorities.\n\nUnder these circumstances we feel all the more thankful if we meet\nwith a writer like M. Barthelemy Saint-Hilaire, who has acquired a\nknowledge of Eastern languages sufficient to enable him to consult\noriginal texts and to control the researches of other scholars, and\nwho at the same time commands that wide view of the history of human\nthought which enables him to assign to each system its proper place,\nto perceive its most salient features, and to distinguish between what\nis really important and what is not, in the lengthy lucubrations of\nancient poets and prophets. M. Barthelemy Saint-Hilaire is one of the\nmost accomplished scholars of France; and his reputation as the\ntranslator of Aristotle has made us almost forget that the Professor\nof Greek Philosophy at the College de France[53] is the same as the\nactive writer in the 'Globe' of 1827, and the 'National' of 1830; the\nsame who signed the protest against the July ordinances, and who in\n1848 was Chief Secretary of the Provisional Government. If such a man\ntakes the trouble to acquire a knowledge of Sanskrit, and to attend in\nthe same College where he was professor, the lectures of his own\ncolleague, the late Eugene Burnouf, his publications on Hindu\nphilosophy and religion will naturally attract a large amount of\npublic interest. The Sanskrit scholar by profession works and\npublishes chiefly for the benefit of other Sanskrit scholars. He is\nsatisfied with bringing to light the ore which he has extracted by\npatient labour from among the dusty MSS. of the East-India House. He\nseldom takes the trouble to separate the metal from the ore, to purify\nor to strike it into current coin. He is but too often apt to forget\nthat no lasting addition is ever made to the treasury of human\nknowledge unless the results of special research are translated into\nthe universal language of science, and rendered available to every\nperson of intellect and education. A division of labour seems most\nconducive to this end. We want a class of interpreters, men such as M.\nBarthelemy Saint-Hilaire, who are fully competent to follow and to\ncontrol the researches of professional students, and who at the same\ntime have not forgotten the language of the world.\n\n[Footnote 53: M. de St. Hilaire resigned the chair of Greek literature\nat the College de France after the _coup d'etat_ of 1851, declining to\ntake the oath of allegiance to the existing government.]\n\nIn his work on Buddhism, of which a second edition has just appeared,\nM. Barthelemy Saint-Hilaire has undertaken to give to the world at\nlarge the really trustworthy and important results which have been\nobtained by the laborious researches of Oriental scholars, from the\noriginal documents of that interesting and still mysterious religion.\nIt was a task of no ordinary difficulty, for although these researches\nare of very recent date, and belong to a period of Sanskrit\nscholarship posterior to Sir W. Jones and Colebrooke, yet such is the\namount of evidence brought together by the combined industry of\nHodgson, Turnour, Csoma de Koeroes, Stanislas Julien, Foucaux, Fausboell,\nSpence Hardy, but above all, of the late Eugene Burnouf, that it\nrequired no common patience and discrimination in order to compose\nfrom such materials so accurate, and at the same time so lucid and\nreadable a book on Buddhism as that which we owe to M. Barthelemy\nSaint-Hilaire. The greater part of it appeared originally in the\n'Journal des Savants,' the time-honoured organ of the French Academy,\nwhich counts on its staff the names of Cousin, Flourens, Villemain,\nBiot, Mignet, Littre, &c, and admits as contributors sixteen only of\nthe most illustrious members of that illustrious body, _la creme de la\ncreme_.\n\nThough much had been said and written about Buddhism,--enough to\nfrighten priests by seeing themselves anticipated in auricular\nconfession, beads, and tonsure by the Lamas of Tibet,[54] and to\ndisconcert philosophers by finding themselves outbid in positivism and\nnihilism by the inmates of Chinese monasteries,--the real beginning of\nan historical and critical study of the doctrines of Buddha dates from\nthe year 1824. In that year Mr. Hodgson announced the fact that the\noriginal documents of the Buddhist canon had been preserved in\nSanskrit in the monasteries of Nepal. Before that time our information\non Buddhism had been derived at random from China, Japan, Burmah,\nTibet, Mongolia, and Tartary; and though it was known that the\nBuddhist literature in all these countries professed itself to be\nderived, directly or indirectly, from India, and that the technical\nterms of that religion, not excepting the very name of Buddha, had\ntheir etymology in Sanskrit only, no hope was entertained that the\noriginals of these various translations could ever be recovered. Mr.\nHodgson, who settled in Nepal in 1821, as political resident of the\nEast-India Company, and whose eyes were always open, not only to the\nnatural history of that little-explored country, but likewise to its\nantiquities, its languages, and traditions, was not long before he\ndiscovered that his friends, the priests of Nepal, possessed a\ncomplete literature of their own. That literature was not written in\nthe spoken dialects of the country, but in Sanskrit. Mr. Hodgson\nprocured a catalogue of all the works, still in existence, which\nformed the Buddhist canon. He afterwards succeeded in procuring copies\nof these works, and he was able in 1824 to send about sixty volumes to\nthe Asiatic Society of Bengal. As no member of that society seemed\ninclined to devote himself to the study of these MSS., Mr. Hodgson\nsent two complete collections of the same MSS. to the Asiatic Society\nof London and the Societe Asiatique of Paris. Before alluding to the\nbrilliant results which the last-named collection produced in the\nhands of Eugene Burnouf, we must mention the labours of other\nstudents, which preceded the publication of Burnouf's researches.\n\n[Footnote 54: The late Abbe Huc pointed out the similarities between\nthe Buddhist and Roman Catholic ceremonials with such _naivete_, that,\nto his surprise, he found his delightful 'Travels in Tibet' placed on\nthe 'Index.' 'On ne peut s'empecher d'etre frappe,' he writes, 'de\nleur rapport avec le Catholicisme. La crosse, la mitre, la dalmatique,\nla chape ou pluvial, que les grands Lamas portent en voyage, ou\nlorsqu'ils font quelque ceremonie hors du temple; l'office a deux\nchoeurs, la psalmodie, les exorcismes, l'encensoir soutenu par cinq\nchaines, et pouvant s'ouvrir et se fermer a volonte; les benedictions\ndonnees par les Lamas en etendant la main droite sur la tete des\nfideles; le chapelet, le celibat ecclesiastique, les retraites\nspirituelles, le culte des saints, les jeunes, les processions, les\nlitanies, l'eau benite; voila autant de rapports que les Bouddhistes\nont avec nous.' He might have added tonsure, relics, and the\nconfessional.]\n\nMr. Hodgson himself gave to the world a number of valuable essays written\non the spot, and afterwards collected under the title of 'Illustrations of\nthe Literature and Religion of the Buddhists,' Serampore, 1841. He\nestablished the important fact, in accordance with the traditions of the\npriests of Nepal, that some of the Sanskrit documents which he recovered\nhad existed in the monasteries of Nepal ever since the second century of\nour era, and that the whole of that collection had, five or six hundred\nyears later, when Buddhism became definitely established in Tibet, been\ntranslated into the language of that country. As the art of printing had\nbeen introduced from China into Tibet, there was less difficulty in\nprocuring complete copies of the Tibetan translation of the Buddhist canon.\nThe real difficulty was to find a person acquainted with the language. By a\nfortunate concurrence of circumstances, however, it so happened that about\nthe same time when Mr. Hodgson's discoveries began to attract the attention\nof Oriental scholars at Calcutta, a Hungarian, of the name of Alexander\nCsoma de Koeroes, arrived there. He had made his way from Hungary to Tibet on\nfoot, without any means of his own, and with the sole object of discovering\nsomewhere in Central Asia the native home of the Hungarians. Arrived in\nTibet, his enthusiasm found a new vent in acquiring a language which no\nEuropean before his time had mastered, and in exploring the vast collection\nof the canonical books of the Buddhists, preserved in that language. Though\nhe arrived at Calcutta almost without a penny, he met with a hearty welcome\nfrom the members of the Asiatic Society, and was enabled with their\nassistance to publish the results of his extraordinary researches. People\nhave complained of the length of the sacred books of other nations, but\nthere are none that approach in bulk to the sacred canon of the Tibetans.\nIt consists of two collections, commonly called the Kanjur and Tanjur. The\nproper spelling of their names is Bkah-hgyur, pronounced Kah-gyur, and\nBstan-hgyur, pronounced Tan-gyur. The Kanjur consists, in its different\neditions, of 100, 102, or 108 volumes folio. It comprises 1083 distinct\nworks. The Tanjur consists of 225 volumes folio, each weighing from four to\nfive pounds in the edition of Peking. Editions of this colossal code were\nprinted at Peking, Lhassa, and other places. The edition of the Kanjur\npublished at Peking, by command of the Emperor Khian-Lung, sold for L600. A\ncopy of the Kanjur was bartered for 7000 oxen by the Buriates, and the same\ntribe paid 1200 silver roubles for a complete copy of the Kanjur and Tanjur\ntogether.[55] Such a jungle of religious literature--the most excellent\nhiding-place, we should think, for Lamas and Dalai-Lamas--was too much even\nfor a man who could travel on foot from Hungary to Tibet. The Hungarian\nenthusiast, however, though he did not translate the whole, gave a most\nvaluable analysis of this immense bible, in the twentieth volume of the\n'Asiatic Researches,' sufficient to establish the fact that the principal\nportion of it was a translation from the same Sanskrit originals which had\nbeen discovered in Nepal by Mr. Hodgson. Csoma de Koeroes died soon after he\nhad given to the world the first fruits of his labours,--a victim to his\nheroic devotion to the study of ancient languages and religions.\n\n[Footnote 55: 'Die Religion des Buddha,' von Koeppen, vol. ii. p.\n282.]\n\nIt was another fortunate coincidence that, contemporaneously with the\ndiscoveries of Hodgson and Csoma de Koeroes, another scholar, Schmidt of\nSt. Petersburg, had so far advanced in the study of the Mongolian\nlanguage, as to be able to translate portions of the Mongolian version\nof the Buddhist canon, and thus forward the elucidation of some of the\nproblems connected with the religion of Buddha.\n\nIt never rains but it pours. Whereas for years, nay, for centuries,\nnot a single original document of the Buddhist religion had been\naccessible to the scholars of Europe, we witness, in the small space\nof ten years, the recovery of four complete Buddhist literatures. In\naddition to the discoveries of Hodgson in Nepal, of Csoma de Koeroes in\nTibet, and of Schmidt in Mongolia, the Honourable George Turnour\nsuddenly presented to the world the Buddhist literature of Ceylon,\ncomposed in the sacred language of that island, the ancient Pali. The\nexistence of that literature had been known before. Since 1826 Sir\nAlexander Johnston had been engaged in collecting authentic copies of\nthe Mahavansa, the Ra_g_avali, and the Ra_g_aratnakari. These copies\nwere translated at his suggestion from Pali into modern Singhalese and\nthence into English. The publication was entrusted to Mr. Edward\nUpham, and the work appeared in 1833, under the title of 'Sacred and\nHistorical Works of Ceylon,' dedicated to William IV. Unfortunately,\nwhether through fraud or through misunderstanding, the priests who\nwere to have procured an authentic copy of the Pali originals and\ntranslated them into the vernacular language, appear to have formed a\ncompilation of their own from various sources. The official\ntranslators by whom this mutilated Singhalese abridgment was to have\nbeen rendered into English, took still greater liberties; and the\n'Sacred and Historical Books of Ceylon' had hardly been published\nbefore Burnouf, then a mere beginner in the study of Pali, was able to\nprove the utter uselessness of that translation. Mr. Turnour, however,\nsoon made up for this disappointment. He set to work in a more\nscholarlike spirit, and after acquiring himself a knowledge of the\nPali language, he published several important essays on the Buddhist\ncanon, as preserved in Ceylon. These were followed by an edition and\ntranslation of the Mahavansa, or the history of Ceylon, written in the\nfifth century after Christ, and giving an account of the island from\nthe earliest times to the beginning of the fourth century A.D. Several\ncontinuations of that history are in existence, but Mr. Turnour was\nprevented by an early death from continuing his edition beyond the\noriginal portion of that chronicle. The exploration of the Ceylonese\nliterature has since been taken up again by the Rev. D. J. Gogerly\n(Clough), whose essays are unfortunately scattered about in Singhalese\nperiodicals and little known in Europe; and by the Rev. Spence Hardy,\nfor twenty years Wesleyan Missionary in Ceylon. His two works,\n'Eastern Monachism' and 'Manual of Buddhism,' are full of interesting\nmatter, but as they are chiefly derived from Singhalese, and even more\nmodern sources, they require to be used with caution.[56]\n\n[Footnote 56: The same author has lately published another valuable\nwork, 'The Legends and Theories of the Buddhists.' London, 1866.]\n\nIn the same manner as the Sanskrit originals of Nepal were translated\nby Buddhist missionaries into Tibetan, Mongolian, and, as we shall\nsoon see, into Chinese and Mandshu,[57] the Pali originals of Ceylon\nwere carried to Burmah and Siam, and translated there into the\nlanguages of those countries. Hardly anything has as yet been done for\nexploring the literature of these two countries, which open a\npromising field for any one ambitious to follow in the footsteps of\nHodgson, Csoma, and Turnour.\n\n[Footnote 57: 'Melanges Asiatiques,' vol. ii. p. 373.]\n\nA very important collection of Buddhist MSS. has lately been brought\nfrom Ceylon to Europe by M. Grimblot, and is now deposited in the\nImperial Library at Paris. This collection, to judge from a report\npublished in 1866 in the 'Journal des Savants' by M. Barthelemy\nSaint-Hilaire, consists of no less than eighty-seven works; and, as\nsome of them are represented by more than one copy, the total number\nof MSS. amounts to one hundred and twenty-one. They fill altogether\n14,000 palm leaves, and are written partly in Singhalese, partly in\nBurmese characters. Next to Ceylon, Burmah and Siam would seem to be\nthe two countries most likely to yield large collections of Pali MSS.,\nand the MSS. which now exist in Ceylon may, to a considerable extent,\nbe traced back to these two countries. At the beginning of the\nsixteenth century, the Tamil conquerors of Ceylon are reported to have\nburnt every Buddhist book they could discover, in the hope of thus\ndestroying the vitality of that detested religion. Buddhism, however,\nthough persecuted--or, more probably, because persecuted--remained\nthe national religion of the island, and in the eighteenth century it\nhad recovered its former ascendency. Missions were then sent to Siam\nto procure authentic copies of the sacred documents; priests properly\nordained were imported from Burmah; and several libraries, which\ncontain both the canonical and the profane literature of Buddhism,\nwere founded at Dadala, Ambagapitya, and other places.\n\nThe sacred canon of the Buddhists is called the Tripi_t_aka, i. e. the\nthree baskets. The first basket contains all that has reference to\nmorality, or Vinaya; the second contains the Sutras, i. e. the\ndiscourses of Buddha; the third includes all works treating of\ndogmatic philosophy or metaphysics. The second and third baskets are\nsometimes comprehended under the general name of Dharma, or law, and\nit has become usual to apply to the third basket the name of\nAbhidharma, or by-law. The first and second pi_t_akas contain each\nfive separate works; the third contains seven. M. Grimblot has secured\nMSS. of nearly every one of these works, and he has likewise brought\nhome copies of the famous commentaries of Buddhaghosha. These\ncommentaries are of great importance; for although Buddhaghosha lived\nas late as 430 A.D., he is supposed to have been the translator of\nmore ancient commentaries, brought in 316 B.C. to Ceylon from Magadha\nby Mahinda, the son of A_s_oka, translated by him from Pali into\nSinghalese, and retranslated by Buddhaghosha into Pali, the original\nlanguage both of the canonical books and of their commentaries.\nWhether historical criticism will allow to the commentaries of\nBuddhaghosha the authority due to documents of the fourth century\nbefore Christ, is a question that has yet to be settled. But even as a\ncollector of earlier traditions and as a writer of the fifth century\nafter Christ, his authority would be considerable with regard to the\nsolution of some of the most important problems of Indian history and\nchronology. Some scholars who have written on the history of Buddhism\nhave clearly shown too strong an inclination to treat the statements\ncontained in the commentaries of Buddhaghosha as purely historical,\nforgetting the great interval of time by which he is separated from\nthe events which he relates. No doubt if it could be proved that\nBuddhaghosha's works were literal translations of the so-called\nAttakathas or commentaries brought by Mahinda to Ceylon, this would\nconsiderably enhance their historical value. But the whole account of\nthese translations rests on tradition, and if we consider the\nextraordinary precautions taken, according to tradition, by the LXX\ntranslators of the Old Testament, and then observe the discrepancies\nbetween the chronology of the Septuagint and that of the Hebrew text,\nwe shall be better able to appreciate the risk of trusting to Oriental\ntranslations, even to those that pretend to be literal. The idea of a\nfaithful literal translation seems altogether foreign to Oriental\nminds. Granted that Mahinda translated the original Pali commentaries\ninto Singhalese, there was nothing to restrain him from inserting\nanything that he thought likely to be useful to his new converts.\nGranted that Buddhaghosha translated these translations back into\nPali, why should he not have incorporated any facts that were then\nbelieved in and had been handed down by tradition from generation to\ngeneration? Was he not at liberty--nay, would he not have felt it his\nduty, to explain apparent difficulties, to remove contradictions, and\nto correct palpable mistakes? In our time, when even the\ncontemporaneous evidence of Herodotus, Thucydides, Livy, or Jornandes\nis sifted by the most uncompromising scepticism, we must not expect a\nmore merciful treatment for the annals of Buddhism. Scholars engaged\nin special researches are too willing to acquiesce in evidence,\nparticularly if that evidence has been discovered by their own efforts\nand comes before them with all the charms of novelty. But, in the\nbroad daylight of historical criticism, the prestige of such a witness\nas Buddhaghosha soon dwindles away, and his statements as to kings and\ncouncils eight hundred years before his time are in truth worth no\nmore than the stories told of Arthur by Geoffrey of Monmouth, or the\naccounts we read in Livy of the early history of Rome.\n\nOne of the most important works of M. Grimblot's collection, and one\nthat we hope will soon be published, is a history of Buddhism in\nCeylon, called the Dipavansa. The only work of the same character\nwhich has hitherto been known is the Mahavansa, published by the\nHonourable George Turnour. But this is professedly based on the\nDipavansa, and is probably of a much later date. Mahanama, the\ncompiler of the Mahavansa, lived about 500 A. D. His work was\ncontinued by later chroniclers to the middle of the eighteenth\ncentury. Though Mahanama wrote towards the end of the fifth century\nafter Christ, his own share of the chronicle seems to have ended with\nthe year 302 A.D., and a commentary which he wrote on his own\nchronicle likewise breaks off at that period. The exact date of the\nDipavansa is not yet known; but as it also breaks off with the death\nof Mahasena in 302 A.D., we cannot ascribe to it, for the present, any\nhigher authority than could be commanded by a writer of the fourth\ncentury after Christ.\n\nWe now return to Mr. Hodgson. His collections of Sanskrit MSS. had\nbeen sent, as we saw, to the Asiatic Society of Calcutta from 1824 to\n1839, to the Royal Asiatic Society in London in 1835, and to the\nSociete Asiatique of Paris in 1837. They remained dormant at Calcutta\nand in London. At Paris, however, these Buddhist MSS. fell into the\nhands of Burnouf. Unappalled by their size and tediousness, he set to\nwork, and was not long before he discovered their extreme importance.\nAfter seven years of careful study, Burnouf published, in 1844, his\n'Introduction a l'Histoire du Buddhisme.' It is this work which laid\nthe foundation for a systematic study of the religion of Buddha.\nThough acknowledging the great value of the researches made in the\nBuddhist literatures of Tibet, Mongolia, China, and Ceylon, Burnouf\nshowed that Buddhism, being of Indian origin, ought to be studied\nfirst of all in the original Sanskrit documents, preserved in Nepal.\nThough he modestly called his work an Introduction to the History of\nBuddhism, there are few points of importance on which his industry has\nnot brought together the most valuable evidence, and his genius shed a\nnovel and brilliant light. The death of Burnouf in 1851, put an end to\na work which, if finished according to the plan sketched out by the\nauthor in the preface, would have been the most perfect monument of\nOriental scholarship. A volume published after his death, in 1852,\ncontains a translation of one of the canonical books of Nepal, with\nnotes and appendices, the latter full of the most valuable information\non some of the more intricate questions of Buddhism. Though much\nremained to be done, and though a very small breach only had been made\nin the vast pile of Sanskrit MSS. presented by Mr. Hodgson to the\nAsiatic Societies of Paris and London, no one has been bold enough to\ncontinue what Burnouf left unfinished. The only important additions to\nour knowledge of Buddhism since his death are an edition of the\nLalita-Vistara or the life of Buddha, prepared by a native, the\nlearned Babu Rajendralal Mittra; an edition of the Pali original of\nthe Dhammapadam, by Dr. Fausboell, a Dane; and last, not least, the\nexcellent translation by M. Stanislas Julien, of the life and travels\nof Hiouen-Thsang. This Chinese pilgrim had visited India from 629 to\n645 A.D., for the purpose of learning Sanskrit, and translating from\nSanskrit into Chinese some important works on the religion and\nphilosophy of the Buddhists; and his account of the geography, the\nsocial, religious, and political state of India at the beginning of\nthe seventh century, is invaluable for studying the practical working\nof that religion at a time when its influence began to decline, and\nwhen it was soon to be supplanted by modern Brahmanism and\nMohammedanism.\n\nIt was no easy task for M. Barthelemy Saint-Hilaire to make himself\nacquainted with all these works. The study of Buddhism would almost\nseem to be beyond the power of any single individual, if it required a\npractical acquaintance with all the languages in which the doctrines\nof Buddha have been written down. Burnouf was probably the only man\nwho, in addition to his knowledge of Sanskrit, did not shrink from\nacquiring a practical knowledge of Tibetan, Pali, Singhalese, and\nBurmese, in order to prepare himself for such a task. The same scholar\nhad shown, however, that though it was impossible for a Tibetan,\nMongolian, or Chinese scholar to arrive, without a knowledge of\nSanskrit, at a correct understanding of the doctrines of Buddha, a\nknowledge of Sanskrit was sufficient for entering into their spirit,\nfor comprehending their origin and growth in India, and their\nmodification in the different countries where they took root in later\ntimes. Assisted by his familiarity with Sanskrit, and bringing into\nthe field, as a new and valuable auxiliary, his intimate acquaintance\nwith nearly all the systems of philosophy and religion of both the\nancient and modern worlds, M. Barthelemy Saint-Hilaire has succeeded\nin drawing a picture, both lively and correct, of the origin, the\ncharacter, the strong as well as weak points, of the religion of\nBuddha. He has become the first historian of Buddhism. He has not been\ncarried away by a temptation which must have been great for one who is\nable to read in the past the lessons for the present or the future. He\nhas not used Buddhism either as a bugbear or as a _beau ideal_. He is\nsatisfied with stating in his preface that many lessons might be\nlearned by modern philosophers from a study of Buddhism, but in the\nbody of the work he never perverts the chair of the historian into the\npulpit of the preacher.\n\n'This book may offer one other advantage,' he writes, 'and I regret to\nsay that at present it may seem to come opportunely. It is the\nmisfortune of our times that the same doctrines which form the\nfoundation of Buddhism meet at the hands of some of our philosophers\nwith a favour which they ill deserve. For some years we have seen\nsystems arising in which metempsychosis and transmigration are highly\nspoken of, and attempts are made to explain the world and man without\neither a God or a Providence, exactly as Buddha did. A future life is\nrefused to the yearnings of mankind, and the immortality of the soul\nis replaced by the immortality of works. God is dethroned, and in His\nplace they substitute man, the only being, we are told, in which the\nInfinite becomes conscious of itself. These theories are recommended\nto us sometimes in the name of science, or of history, or philology,\nor even of metaphysics; and though they are neither new nor very\noriginal, yet they can do much injury to feeble hearts. This is not\nthe place to examine these theories, and their authors are both too\nlearned and too sincere to deserve to be condemned summarily and\nwithout discussion. But it is well that they should know by the\nexample, too little known, of Buddhism, what becomes of man if he\ndepends on himself alone, and if his meditations, misled by a pride of\nwhich he is hardly conscious, bring him to the precipice where Buddha\nwas lost. Besides, I am well aware of all the differences, and I am\nnot going to insult our contemporary philosophers by confounding them\nindiscriminately with Buddha, although addressing to both the same\nreproof. I acknowledge willingly all their additional merits, which\nare considerable. But systems of philosophy must always be judged by\nthe conclusions to which they lead, whatever road they may follow in\nreaching them; and their conclusions, though obtained by different\nmeans, are not therefore less objectionable. Buddha arrived at his\nconclusions 2400 years ago. He proclaimed and practised them with an\nenergy which is not likely to be surpassed, even if it be equalled. He\ndisplayed a child-like intrepidity which no one can exceed, nor can it\nbe supposed that any system in our days could again acquire so\npowerful an ascendency over the souls of men. It would be useful,\nhowever, if the authors of these modern systems would just cast a\nglance at the theories and destinies of Buddhism. It is not philosophy\nin the sense in which we understand this great name, nor is it\nreligion in the sense of ancient paganism, of Christianity, or of\nMohammedanism; but it contains elements of all worked up into a\nperfectly independent doctrine which acknowledges nothing in the\nuniverse but man, and obstinately refuses to recognise anything else,\nthough confounding man with nature in the midst of which he lives.\nHence all those aberrations of Buddhism which ought to be a warning to\nothers. Unfortunately, if people rarely profit by their own faults,\nthey profit yet more rarely by the faults of others. (Introduction, p.\nvii.)\n\nBut though M. Barthelemy Saint-Hilaire does not write history merely\nfor the sake of those masked batteries which French writers have used\nwith so much skill at all times, but more particularly during the late\nyears of Imperial sway, it is clear, from the remarks just quoted,\nthat our author is not satisfied with simply chronicling the dry facts\nof Buddhism, or turning into French the tedious discourses of its\nfounder. His work is an animated sketch, giving too little rather than\ntoo much. It is just the book which was wanted to dispel the erroneous\nnotions about Buddhism, which are still current among educated men,\nand to excite an interest which may lead those who are naturally\nfrightened by the appalling proportions of Buddhist literature, and\nthe uncouth sounds of Buddhist terminology, to a study of the quartos\nof Burnouf, Turnour, and others. To those who may wish for more\ndetailed information on Buddhism, than could be given by M. Barthelemy\nSaint-Hilaire, consistently with the plan of his work, we can strongly\nrecommend the work of a German writer, 'Die Religion des Buddha,' von\nKoeppen, Berlin, 1857. It is founded on the same materials as the\nFrench work, but being written by a scholar and for scholars, it\nenters on a more minute examination of all that has been said or\nwritten on Buddha and Buddhism. In a second volume the same learned\nand industrious student has lately published a history of Buddhism in\nTibet.\n\nM. Barthelemy Saint-Hilaire's work is divided into three portions. The\nfirst contains an account of the origin of Buddhism, a life of Buddha,\nand an examination of Buddhist ethics and metaphysics. In the second,\nhe describes the state of Buddhism in India in the seventh century of\nour era, from the materials supplied by the travels of Hiouen-Thsang.\nThe third gives a description of Buddhism as actually existing in\nCeylon, and as lately described by an eye-witness, the Rev. Spence\nHardy. We shall confine ourselves chiefly to the first part, which\ntreats of the life and teaching of Buddha.\n\nM. Barthelemy Saint-Hilaire, following the example of Burnouf, Lassen,\nand Wilson, accepts the date of the Ceylonese era 543 B.C. as the date\nof Buddha's death. Though we cannot enter here into long chronological\ndiscussions, we must remark, that this date was clearly obtained by\nthe Buddhists of Ceylon by calculation, not by historical tradition,\nand that it is easy to point out in that calculation a mistake of\nabout seventy years. The more plausible date of Buddha's death is 477\nB.C. For the purposes, however, which M. Barthelemy Saint-Hilaire had\nin view, this difference is of small importance. We know so little of\nthe history of India during the sixth and fifth centuries B.C., that\nthe stage on which he represents Buddha as preaching and teaching\nwould have had very much the same background, the same costume and\naccessories, for the sixth as for the fifth century B.C.\n\nIn the life of Buddha, which extends from p. 1 to 79, M. Barthelemy\nSaint-Hilaire follows almost exclusively the Lalita-Vistara. This is\none of the most popular works of the Buddhists. It forms part of the\nBuddhist canon; and as we know of a translation into Chinese, which M.\nStanislas Julien ascribes to the year 76 A.D., we may safely refer its\noriginal composition to an ante-Christian date. It has been published\nin Sanskrit by Babu Rajendralal Mittra, and we owe to M. Foucaux an\nedition of the same work in its Tibetan translation, the first Tibetan\ntext printed in Europe. From specimens that we have seen, we should\nthink it would be highly desirable to have an accurate translation of\nthe Chinese text, such as M. Stanislas Julien alone is able to give\nus.[58] Few people, however, except scholars, would have the patience\nto read this work either in its English or French translation, as may\nbe seen from the following specimen, containing the beginning of Babu\nRajendralal Mittra's version:\n\n     'Om! Salutation to all Buddhas, Bodhisattvas, Aryas,\n     _S_ravakas, and Pratyeka Buddhas of all times, past,\n     present, and future; who are adored throughout the farthest\n     limits of the ten quarters of the globe. Thus hath it been\n     heard by me, that once on a time Bhagavat sojourned in the\n     garden of Anathapi_nd_ada, at _G_etavana, in _S_ravasti,\n     accompanied by a venerable body of 12,000 Bhikshukas. There\n     likewise accompanied him 32,000 Bodhisattvas, all linked\n     together by unity of caste, and perfect in the virtues of\n     paramita; who had made their command over Bodhisattva\n     knowledge a pastime, were illumined with the light of\n     Bodhisattva dhara_n_is, and were masters of the dhara_n_is\n     themselves; who were profound in their meditations, all\n     submissive to the lord of Bodhisattvas, and possessed\n     absolute control over samadhi; great in self-command,\n     refulgent in Bodhisattva forbearance, and replete with the\n     Bodhisattva element of perfection. Now then, Bhagavat\n     arriving in the great city of _S_ravasti, sojourned therein,\n     respected, venerated, revered, and adored, by the fourfold\n     congregation; by kings, princes, their counsellors, prime\n     ministers, and followers; by retinues of kshatriyas,\n     brahma_n_as, householders, and ministers; by citizens,\n     foreigners, _s_rama_n_as, brahma_n_as, recluses, and\n     ascetics; and although regaled with all sorts of edibles and\n     sauces, the best that could be prepared by purveyors, and\n     supplied with cleanly mendicant apparel, begging pots,\n     couches, and pain-assuaging medicaments, the benevolent\n     lord, on whom had been showered the prime of gifts and\n     applauses, remained unattached to them all, like water on a\n     lotus leaf; and the report of his greatness as the\n     venerable, the absolute Buddha, the learned and\n     well-behaved, the god of happy exit, the great knower of\n     worlds, the valiant, the all-controlling charioteer, the\n     teacher of gods and men, the quinocular lord Buddha fully\n     manifest, spread far and wide in the world. And Bhagavat,\n     having by his own power acquired all knowledge regarding\n     this world and the next, comprising devas, maras, brahmyas\n     (followers of Brahma), _s_rama_n_as, and brahma_n_as, as\n     subjects, that is both gods and men, sojourned here,\n     imparting instructions in the true religion, and expounding\n     the principles of a brahma_k_arya, full and complete in its\n     nature, holy in its import, pure and immaculate in its\n     character, auspicious is its beginning, auspicious its\n     middle, auspicious its end.'\n\n[Footnote 58: The advantages to be derived from these Chinese\ntranslations have been pointed out by M. Stanislas Julien. The\nanalytical structure of that language imparts to Chinese translations\nthe character almost of a gloss; and though we need not follow\nimplicitly the interpretations of the Sanskrit originals, adopted by\nthe Chinese translators, still their antiquity would naturally impart\nto them a considerable value and interest. The following specimens\nwere kindly communicated to me by M. Stanislas Julien:\n\n     'Je ne sais si je vous ai communique autrefois les curieux\n     passages qui suivent: On lit dans le Lotus francais, p. 271,\n     l. 14, C'est que c'est une chose difficile a rencontrer que\n     la naissance d'un bouddha, aussi difficile a rencontrer que\n     la fleur de l'Udumbara, que l'introduction du col d'une\n     tortue dans l'ouverture d'un joug forme par le grand ocean.\n\n     'Il y a en chinois: un bouddha est difficile a rencontrer,\n     comme les fleurs Udumbara et Palaca; et en outre comme si\n     une tortue borgne voulait rencontrer un trou dans un bois\n     flottant (litt. le trou d'un bois flottant).\n\n     'Lotus francais, p. 39, l. 110 (les creatures), enchainees\n     par la concupiscence comme par la queue du Yak,\n     perpetuellement aveuglees en ce monde par les desirs, elles\n     ne cherchent pas le Buddha.\n\n     'Il y a en chinois: Profondement attachees aux cinq\n     desirs--Elles les aiment comme le Yak aime sa queue. Par la\n     concupiscence et l'amour, elles s'aveuglent elles-memes,\n     etc.'\n]\n\nThe whole work is written in a similar style, and where fact and\nlegend, prose and poetry, sense and nonsense, are so mixed together,\nthe plan adopted by M. Barthelemy Saint-Hilaire, of making two lives\nout of one, the one containing all that seems possible, the other what\nseems impossible, would naturally recommend itself. It is not a safe\nprocess, however, to distil history out of legend by simply straining\nthe legendary through the sieve of physical possibility. Many things\nare possible, and may yet be the mere inventions of later writers, and\nmany things which sound impossible have been reclaimed as historical,\nafter removing from them the thin film of mythological phraseology. We\nbelieve that the only use which the historian can safely make of the\nLalita-Vistara, is to employ it, not as evidence of facts which\nactually happened, but in illustration of the popular belief prevalent\nat the time when it was committed to writing. Without therefore\nadopting the division of fact and fiction in the life of Buddha, as\nattempted by M. Barthelemy Saint-Hilaire, we yet believe that in order\nto avoid a repetition of childish absurdities, we shall best consult\nthe interest of our readers if we follow his example, and give a short\nand rational abstract of the life of Buddha as handed down by\ntradition, and committed to writing not later than the first century\nB.C.\n\nBuddha, or more correctly, the Buddha,--for Buddha is an appellative\nmeaning Enlightened,--was born at Kapilavastu, the capital of a kingdom of\nthe same name, situated at the foot of the mountains of Nepal, north of the\npresent Oude. His father, the king of Kapilavastu, was of the family of the\n_S_akyas, and belonged to the clan of the Gautamas. His mother was\nMayadevi, daughter of king Suprabuddha, and need we say that she was as\nbeautiful as he was powerful and just? Buddha was therefore by birth of the\nKshatriya or warrior caste, and he took the name of _S_akya from his\nfamily, and that of Gautama from his clan, claiming a kind of spiritual\nrelationship with the honoured race of Gautama. The name of Buddha, or the\nBuddha, dates from a later period of his life, and so probably does the\nname Siddhartha (he whose objects have been accomplished), though we are\ntold that it was given him in his childhood. His mother died seven days\nafter his birth, and the father confided the child to the care of his\ndeceased wife's sister, who, however, had been his wife even before the\nmother's death. The child grew up a most beautiful and most accomplished\nboy, who soon knew more than his masters could teach him. He refused to\ntake part in the games of his playmates, and never felt so happy as when he\ncould sit alone, lost in meditation in the deep shadows of the forest. It\nwas there that his father found him, when he had thought him lost, and in\norder to prevent the young prince from becoming a dreamer, the king\ndetermined to marry him at once. When the subject was mentioned by the aged\nministers to the future heir to the throne, he demanded seven days for\nreflection, and convinced at last that not even marriage could disturb the\ncalm of his mind, he allowed the ministers to look out for a princess. The\nprincess selected was the beautiful Gopa, the daughter of Da_nd_apa_n_i.\nThough her father objected at first to her marrying a young prince who was\nrepresented to him as deficient in manliness and intellect, he gladly gave\nhis consent when he saw the royal suitor distancing all his rivals both in\nfeats of arms and power of mind. Their marriage proved one of the happiest,\nbut the prince remained, as he had been before, absorbed in meditation on\nthe problems of life and death. 'Nothing is stable on earth,' he used to\nsay, 'nothing is real. Life is like the spark produced by the friction of\nwood. It is lighted and is extinguished--we know not whence it came or\nwhither it goes. It is like the sound of a lyre, and the wise man asks in\nvain from whence it came and whither it goes. There must be some supreme\nintelligence where we could find rest. If I attained it, I could bring\nlight to man; if I were free myself, I could deliver the world.' The king,\nwho perceived the melancholy mood of the young prince, tried every thing to\ndivert him from his speculations: but all was in vain. Three of the most\nordinary events that could happen to any man, proved of the utmost\nimportance in the career of Buddha. We quote the description of these\noccurrences from M. Barthelemy Saint-Hilaire:\n\n     'One day when the prince with a large retinue drove through\n     the eastern gate of the city on the way to one of his parks,\n     he met on the road an old man, broken and decrepit. One\n     could see the veins and muscles over the whole of his body,\n     his teeth chattered, he was covered with wrinkles, bald, and\n     hardly able to utter hollow and unmelodious sounds. He was\n     bent on his stick, and all his limbs and joints trembled.\n     \"Who is that man?\" said the prince to his coachman. \"He is\n     small and weak, his flesh and his blood are dried up, his\n     muscles stick to his skin, his head is white, his teeth\n     chatter, his body is wasted away; leaning on his stick he is\n     hardly able to walk, stumbling at every step. Is there\n     something peculiar in his family, or is this the common lot\n     of all created beings?\"\n\n     '\"Sir,\" replied the coachman, \"that man is sinking under old\n     age, his senses have become obtuse, suffering has destroyed\n     his strength, and he is despised by his relations. He is\n     without support and useless, and people have abandoned him,\n     like a dead tree in a forest. But this is not peculiar to\n     his family. In every creature youth is defeated by old age.\n     Your father, your mother, all your relations, all your\n     friends, will come to the same state; this is the appointed\n     end of all creatures.\"\n\n     '\"Alas!\" replied the prince, \"are creatures so ignorant, so\n     weak and foolish, as to be proud of the youth by which they\n     are intoxicated, not seeing the old age which awaits them!\n     As for me, I go away. Coachman, turn my chariot quickly.\n     What have I, the future prey of old age,--what have I to do\n     with pleasure?\" And the young prince returned to the city\n     without going to his park.\n\n     'Another time the prince drove through the southern gate to\n     his pleasure garden, when he perceived on the road a man\n     suffering from illness, parched with fever, his body wasted,\n     covered with mud, without a friend, without a home, hardly\n     able to breathe, and frightened at the sight of himself and\n     the approach of death. Having questioned his coachman, and\n     received from him the answer which he expected, the young\n     prince said, \"Alas! health is but the sport of a dream, and\n     the fear of suffering must take this frightful form. Where\n     is the wise man who, after having seen what he is, could any\n     longer think of joy and pleasure?\" The prince turned his\n     chariot and returned to the city.\n\n     'A third time he drove to his pleasure garden through the\n     western gate, when he saw a dead body on the road, lying on\n     a bier, and covered with a cloth. The friends stood about\n     crying, sobbing, tearing their hair, covering their heads\n     with dust, striking their breasts, and uttering wild cries.\n     The prince, again calling his coachman to witness this\n     painful scene, exclaimed, \"Oh! woe to youth, which must be\n     destroyed by old age! Woe to health, which must be destroyed\n     by so many diseases! Woe to this life, where a man remains\n     so short a time! If there were no old age, no disease, no\n     death; if these could be made captive for ever!\" Then\n     betraying for the first time his intentions, the young\n     prince said, \"Let us turn back, I must think how to\n     accomplish deliverance.\"\n\n     'A last meeting put an end to his hesitation. He drove\n     through the northern gate on the way to his pleasure\n     gardens, when he saw a mendicant who appeared outwardly\n     calm, subdued, looking downwards, wearing with an air of\n     dignity his religious vestment, and carrying an alms-bowl.\n\n     '\"Who is this man?\" asked the prince.\n\n     '\"Sir,\" replied the coachman, \"this man is one of those who\n     are called bhikshus, or mendicants. He has renounced all\n     pleasures, all desires, and leads a life of austerity. He\n     tries to conquer himself. He has become a devotee. Without\n     passion, without envy, he walks about asking for alms.\"\n\n     '\"This is good and well said,\" replied the prince. \"The life\n     of a devotee has always been praised by the wise. It will be\n     my refuge, and the refuge of other creatures; it will lead\n     us to a real life, to happiness and immortality.\"\n\n     'With these words the young prince turned his chariot and\n     returned to the city.'\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAfter having declared to his father and his wife his intention of\nretiring from the world, Buddha left his palace one night when all the\nguards that were to have watched him, were asleep. After travelling\nthe whole night, he gave his horse and his ornaments to his groom, and\nsent him back to Kapilavastu. 'A monument,' remarks the author of the\nLalita-Vistara (p. 270), 'is still to be seen on the spot where the\ncoachman turned back,' Hiouen-Thsang (II. 330) saw the same monument\nat the edge of a large forest, on his road to Ku_s_inagara, a city now\nin ruins, and situated about fifty miles E.S.E. from Gorakpur.[59]\n\n[Footnote 59: The geography of India at the time of Buddha, and later\nat the time of Fahian and Hiouen-Thsang, has been admirably treated by\nM. L. Vivien de Saint-Martin, in his 'Memoire Analytique sur la Carte\nde l'Asie Centrale et de l'Inde,' in the third volume of M. Stanislas\nJulien's 'Pelerins Bouddhistes.']\n\nBuddha first went to Vai_s_ali, and became the pupil of a famous\nBrahman, who had gathered round him 300 disciples. Having learnt all\nthat the Brahman could teach him, Buddha went away disappointed. He\nhad not found the road to salvation. He then tried another Brahman at\nRa_g_ag_r_iha, the capital of Magadha or Behar, who had 700\ndisciples, and there too he looked in vain for the means of\ndeliverance. He left him, followed by five of his fellow-students, and\nfor six years retired into solitude, near a village named Uruvilva,\nsubjecting himself to the most severe penances, previous to his\nappearing in the world as a teacher. At the end of this period,\nhowever, he arrived at the conviction that asceticism, far from giving\npeace of mind and preparing the way to salvation, was a snare and a\nstumbling-block in the way of truth. He gave up his exercises, and was\nat once deserted as an apostate by his five disciples. Left to himself\nhe now began to elaborate his own system. He had learnt that neither\nthe doctrines nor the austerities of the Brahmans were of any avail\nfor accomplishing the deliverance of man, and freeing him from the\nfear of old age, disease, and death. After long meditations, and\necstatic visions, he at last imagined that he had arrived at that true\nknowledge which discloses the cause, and thereby destroys the fear, of\nall the changes inherent in life. It was from the moment when he\narrived at this knowledge, that he claimed the name of Buddha, the\nEnlightened. At that moment we may truly say that the fate of millions\nof millions of human beings trembled in the balance. Buddha hesitated\nfor a time whether he should keep his knowledge to himself, or\ncommunicate it to the world. Compassion for the sufferings of man\nprevailed, and the young prince became the founder of a religion\nwhich, after more than 2000 years, is still professed by 455,000,000\nof human beings.[60]\n\n[Footnote 60: Though truth is not settled by majorities, it would be\ninteresting to know which religion, counts at the present moment the\nlargest numbers of believers. Berghaus, in his 'Physical Atlas,' gives\nthe following division of the human race according to religion:\n\nBuddhists            31.2 per cent.\nChristians           30.7    \"\nMohammedans          15.7    \"\nBrahmanists          13.4    \"\nHeathens              8.7    \"\nJews                  0.3    \"\n\nAs Berghaus does not distinguish the Buddhists in China from the\nfollowers of Confucius and Lao-tse, the first place on the scale\nbelongs really to Christianity. It is difficult in China to say to\nwhat religion a man belongs, as the same person may profess two or\nthree. The emperor himself, after sacrificing according to the ritual\nof Confucius, visits a Tao-sse temple, and afterwards bows before an\nimage of Fo in a Buddhist chapel. ('Melanges Asiatiques de St.\nPetersbourg,' vol. ii. p. 374.)]\n\nThe further history of the new teacher is very simple. He proceeded to\nBenares, which at all times was the principal seat of learning in\nIndia, and the first converts he made were the five fellow-students\nwho had left him when he threw off the yoke of the Brahmanical\nobservances. Many others followed; but as the Lalita-Vistara breaks\noff at Buddha's arrival at Benares, we have no further consecutive\naccount of the rapid progress of his doctrine. From what we can gather\nfrom scattered notices in the Buddhist canon, he was invited by the\nking of Magadha, Bimbisara, to his capital, Ra_g_ag_r_iha. Many of his\nlectures are represented as having been delivered at the monastery of\nKalantaka, with which the king or some rich merchant had presented\nhim; others on the Vulture Peak, one of the five hills that surrounded\nthe ancient capital.\n\nThree of his most famous disciples, _S_ariputra, Katyayana, and\nMaudgalyayana, joined him during his stay in Magadha, where he\nenjoyed for many years the friendship of the king. That king was\nafterwards assassinated by his son, A_g_ata_s_atru, and then we hear\nof Buddha as settled for a time at _S_ravasti, north of the Ganges,\nwhere Anathapi_nd_ada, a rich merchant, had offered him and his\ndisciples a magnificent building for their residence. Most of Buddha's\nlectures or sermons were delivered at _S_ravasti, the capital of\nKo_s_ala; and the king of Ko_s_ala himself, Prasena_g_it, became a\nconvert to his doctrine. After an absence of twelve years we are told\nthat Buddha visited his father at Kapilavastu, on which occasion he\nperformed several miracles, and converted all the _S_akyas to his\nfaith. His own wife became one of his followers, and, with his aunt,\noffers the first instance of female Buddhist devotees in India. We\nhave fuller particulars again of the last days of Buddha's life. He\nhad attained the good age of three score and ten, and had been on a\nvisit to Ra_g_ag_r_iha, where the king, A_g_ata_s_atru, the former\nenemy of Buddha, and the assassin of his own father, had joined the\ncongregation, after making a public confession of his crimes. On his\nreturn he was followed by a large number of disciples, and when on the\npoint of crossing the Ganges, he stood on a square stone, and turning\nhis eyes back towards Ra_g_ag_r_iha, he said, full of emotion, 'This\nis the last time that I see that city.' He likewise visited Vai_s_ali,\nand after taking leave of it, he had nearly reached the city of\nKu_s_inagara, when his vital strength began to fail. He halted in a\nforest, and while sitting under a sal tree, he gave up the ghost, or,\nas a Buddhist would say, entered into Nirva_n_a.\n\nThis is the simple story of Buddha's life. It reads much better in\nthe eloquent pages of M. Barthelemy Saint-Hilaire, than in the turgid\nlanguage of the Buddhists. If a critical historian, with the materials\nwe possess, entered at all on the process of separating truth from\nfalsehood, he would probably cut off much of what our biographer has\nleft. Professor Wilson, in his Essay on Buddha and Buddhism, considers\nit doubtful whether any such person as Buddha ever actually existed.\nHe dwells on the fact that there are at least twenty different dates\nassigned to his birth, varying from 2420 to 453 B.C. He points out\nthat the clan of the _S_akyas is never mentioned by early Hindu\nwriters, and he lays much stress on the fact that most of the proper\nnames of the persons connected with Buddha suggest an allegorical\nsignification. The name of his father means, he whose food is pure;\nthat of his mother signifies illusion; his own secular appellation,\nSiddhartha, he by whom the end is accomplished. Buddha itself means,\nthe Enlightened, or, as Professor Wilson translates it less\naccurately, he by whom all is known. The same distinguished scholar\ngoes even further, and maintaining that Kapilavastu, the birthplace of\nBuddha, has no place in the geography of the Hindus, suggests that it\nmay be rendered, the substance of Kapila; intimating, in fact, the\nSankhya philosophy, the doctrine of Kapila Muni, upon which the\nfundamental elements of Buddhism, the eternity of matter, the\nprinciples of things, and the final extinction, are supposed to be\nplanned. 'It seems not impossible,' he continues, 'that _S_akya Muni\nis an unreal being, and that all that is related of him is as much a\nfiction, as is that of his preceding migrations, and the miracles that\nattended his birth, his life, and his departure.' This is going far\nbeyond Niebuhr, far even beyond Strauss. If an allegorical name had\nbeen invented for the father of Buddha, one more appropriate than\n'Clean-food' might surely have been found. His wife is not the only\nqueen known by the name of Maya, Mayadevi, or Mayavati. Why, if these\nnames were invented, should his wife have been allowed to keep the\nprosaic name of Gopa (cowherdess), and his father-in-law, that of\nDa_nd_apa_n_i, 'Stick-hand?' As to his own name, Siddhartha, the\nTibetans maintain that it was given him by his parent, whose wish\n(artha) had been fulfilled (siddha), as we hear of Desires and\nDieu-donnes in French. One of the ministers of Da_s_aratha had the\nsame name. It is possible also that Buddha himself assumed it in after\nlife, as was the case with many of the Roman surnames. As to the name\nof Buddha, no one ever maintained that it was more than a title, the\nEnlightened, changed from an appellative into a proper name, just like\nthe name of Christos, the Anointed, or Mohammed, the Expected.[61]\nKapilavastu would be a most extraordinary compound to express 'the\nsubstance of the Sankhya philosophy.' But all doubt on the subject is\nremoved by the fact that both Fahian in the fifth, and Hiouen-Thsang\nin the seventh centuries, visited the real ruins of that city.\n\n[Footnote 61: See Sprenger, 'Das Leben des Mohammed,' 1861, vol. i. p.\n155.]\n\nMaking every possible allowance for the accumulation of fiction which\nis sure to gather round the life of the founder of every great\nreligion, we may be satisfied that Buddhism, which changed the aspect\nnot only of India, but of nearly the whole of Asia, had a real\nfounder; that he was not a Brahman by birth, but belonged to the\nsecond or royal caste; that being of a meditative turn of mind, and\ndeeply impressed with the frailty of all created things, he became a\nrecluse, and sought for light and comfort in the different systems of\nBrahman philosophy and theology. Dissatisfied with the artificial\nsystems of their priests and philosophers, convinced of the\nuselessness, nay of the pernicious influence, of their ceremonial\npractices and bodily penances, shocked, too, by their worldliness and\npharisaical conceit, which made the priesthood the exclusive property\nof one caste and rendered every sincere approach of man to his Creator\nimpossible without their intervention, Buddha must have produced at\nonce a powerful impression on the people at large, when breaking\nthrough all the established rules of caste, he assumed the privileges\nof a Brahman, and throwing away the splendour of his royal position,\ntravelled about as a beggar, not shrinking from the defiling contact\nof sinners and publicans. Though when we now speak of Buddhism, we\nthink chiefly of its doctrines, the reform of Buddha had originally\nmuch more of a social than of a religious character. Buddha swept away\nthe web with which the Brahmans had encircled the whole of India.\nBeginning as the destroyer of an old, he became the founder of a new\nreligion. We can hardly understand how any nation could have lived\nunder a system like that of the Brahmanic hierarchy, which coiled\nitself round every public and private act, and would have rendered\nlife intolerable to any who had forfeited the favour of the priests.\nThat system was attacked by Buddha. Buddha might have taught whatever\nphilosophy he pleased, and we should hardly have heard his name. The\npeople would not have minded him, and his system would only have been\na drop in the ocean of philosophical speculation, by which India was\ndeluged at all times. But when a young prince assembled round him\npeople of all castes, of all ranks, when he defeated the Brahmans in\npublic disputations, when he declared the sacrifices by which they\nmade their living not only useless but sinful, when instead of severe\npenance or excommunications inflicted by the Brahmans sometimes for\nthe most trifling offences, he only required public confession of sin\nand a promise to sin no more: when the charitable gifts hitherto\nmonopolised by the Brahmans, began to flow into new channels,\nsupporting hundreds and thousands of Buddhist mendicants, more had\nbeen achieved than probably Buddha himself had ever dreamt of; and he\nwhose meditations had been how to deliver the soul of man from misery\nand the fear of death, had delivered the people of India from a\ndegrading thraldom and from priestly tyranny.\n\nThe most important element of the Buddhist reform has always been its\nsocial and moral code, not its metaphysical theories. That moral code,\ntaken by itself, is one of the most perfect which the world has ever\nknown. On this point all testimonies from hostile and from friendly\nquarters agree. Spence Hardy, a Wesleyan Missionary, speaking of the\nDhamma Padam, or the 'Footsteps of the Law,' admits that a collection\nmight be made from the precepts of this work, which in the purity of\nits ethics could hardly be equalled from any other heathen author. M.\nLaboulaye, one of the most distinguished members of the French\nAcademy, remarks in the 'Debats' of the 4th of April, 1853: 'It is\ndifficult to comprehend how men not assisted by revelation could have\nsoared so high, and approached so near to the truth.' Besides the five\ngreat commandments not to kill, not to steal, not to commit adultery,\nnot to lie, not to get drunk, every shade of vice, hypocrisy, anger,\npride, suspicion, greediness, gossiping, cruelty to animals, is\nguarded against by special precepts. Among the virtues recommended, we\nfind not only reverence of parents, care for children, submission to\nauthority, gratitude, moderation in time of prosperity, submission in\ntime of trial, equanimity at all times, but virtues unknown in any\nheathen system of morality, such as the duty of forgiving insults and\nnot rewarding evil with evil. All virtues, we are told, spring from\nMaitri, and this Maitri can only be translated by charity and love. 'I\ndo not hesitate,' says Burnouf,[62] 'to translate by charity the word\nMaitri; it does not express friendship or the feeling of particular\naffection which a man has for one or more of his fellow-creatures, but\nthat universal feeling which inspires us with good-will towards all\nmen and constant willingness to help them.' We add one more testimony\nfrom the work of M. Barthelemy Saint-Hilaire:\n\n     'Je n'hesite pas a ajouter,' he writes, 'que, sauf le Christ\n     tout seul, il n'est point, parmi les fondateurs de religion,\n     de figure plus pure ni plus touchante que celle du Bouddha.\n     Sa vie n'a point de tache. Son constant heroisme egale sa\n     conviction; et si la theorie qu'il preconise est fausse, les\n     exemples personnels qu'il donne sont irreprochables. Il est\n     le modele acheve de toutes les vertus qu'il preche; son\n     abnegation, sa charite son inalterable douceur, ne se\n     dementent point un seul instant; il abandonne a vingt-neuf\n     ans la cour du roi son pere pour se faire religieux et\n     mendiant; il prepare silencieusement sa doctrine par six\n     annees de retraite et de meditation; il la propage par la\n     seule puissance de la parole et de la persuasion, pendant\n     plus d'un demi-siecle; et quand il meurt entre les bras de\n     ses disciples, c'est avec la serenite d'un sage qui a\n     pratique le bien toute sa vie, et qui est assure d'avoir\n     trouve le vrai.' (Page v.)\n\n[Footnote 62: Burnouf, 'Lotus de la bonne Loi,' p. 300.]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThere still remain, no doubt, some blurred and doubtful pages in the\nhistory of the prince of Kapilavastu; but we have only to look at the\nworks on ancient philosophy and religion published some thirty years\nago, in order to perceive the immense progress that has been made in\nestablishing the true historical character of the founder of Buddhism.\nThere was a time when Buddha was identified with Christ. The\nManichaeans were actually forced to abjure their belief that Buddha,\nChrist, and Mani were one and the same person.[63] But we are thinking\nrather of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, when elaborate\nbooks were written, in order to prove that Buddha had been in reality\nthe Thoth of the Egyptians, that he was Mercury, or Wodan, or\nZoroaster, or Pythagoras. Even Sir W. Jones, as we saw, identified\nBuddha, first with Odin, and afterwards with Shishak, 'who either in\nperson or by a colony from Egypt imported into India the mild heresy\nof the ancient Bauddhas.' At present we know that neither Egypt nor\nthe Walhalla of Germany, neither Greece nor Persia, could have\nproduced either the man himself or his doctrine. He is the offspring\nof India in mind and soul. His doctrine, by the very antagonism in\nwhich it stands to the old system of Brahmanism, shows that it could\nnot have sprung up in any country except India. The ancient history of\nBrahmanism leads on to Buddhism, with the same necessity with which\nmediaeval Romanism led to Protestantism. Though the date of Buddha is\nstill liable to small chronological oscillations, his place in the\nintellectual annals of India is henceforth definitely marked: Buddhism\nbecame the state religion of India at the time of A_s_oka; and\nA_s_oka, the Buddhist Constantine, was the grandson of _K_andragupta,\nthe contemporary of Seleucus Nicator. The system of the Brahmans had\nrun its course. Their ascendency, at first purely intellectual and\nreligious, had gradually assumed a political character. By means of\nthe system of caste this influence pervaded the whole social fabric,\nnot as a vivifying leaven, but as a deadly poison. Their increasing\npower and self-confidence are clearly exhibited in the successive\nperiods of their ancient literature. It begins with the simple hymns\nof the Veda. These are followed by the tracts, known by the name of\nBrahma_n_as, in which a complete system of theology is elaborated, and\nclaims advanced in favour of the Brahmans, such as were seldom\nconceded to any hierarchy. The third period in the history of their\nancient literature is marked by their Sutras or Aphorisms, curt and\ndry formularies, showing the Brahmans in secure possession of all\ntheir claims. Such privileges as they then enjoyed are never enjoyed\nfor any length of time. It was impossible for anybody to move or to\nassert his freedom of thought and action without finding himself\nimpeded on all sides by the web of the Brahmanic law; nor was there\nanything in their religion to satisfy the natural yearnings of the\nhuman heart after spiritual comfort. What was felt by Buddha, had been\nfelt more or less intensely by thousands; and this was the secret of\nhis success. That success was accelerated, however, by political\nevents. _K_andragupta had conquered the throne of Magadha, and\nacquired his supremacy in India in defiance of the Brahmanic law. He\nwas of low origin, a mere adventurer, and by his accession to the\nthrone an important mesh had been broken in the intricate system of\ncaste. Neither he nor his successors could count on the support of the\nBrahmans, and it is but natural that his grandson, A_s_oka, should\nhave been driven to seek support from the sect founded by Buddha.\nBuddha, by giving up his royal station, had broken the law of caste as\nmuch as _K_andragupta by usurping it. His school, though it had\nprobably escaped open persecution until it rose to political\nimportance, could never have been on friendly terms with the Brahmans\nof the old school. The _parvenu_ on the throne saw his natural allies\nin the followers of Buddha, and the mendicants, who by their\nunostentatious behaviour had won golden opinions among the lower and\nmiddle classes, were suddenly raised to an importance little dreamt of\nby their founder. Those who see in Buddhism, not a social but chiefly\na religious and philosophical reform, have been deceived by the later\nBuddhist literature, and particularly by the controversies between\nBuddhists and Brahmans, which in later times led to the total\nexpulsion of the former from India, and to the political\nre-establishment of Brahmanism. These, no doubt, turn chiefly on\nphilosophical problems, and are of the most abstruse and intricate\ncharacter. But such was not the teaching of Buddha. If we may judge\nfrom 'the four verities,' which Buddha inculcated from the first day\nthat he entered on his career as a teacher, his philosophy of life was\nvery simple. He proclaims that there was nothing but sorrow in life;\nthat sorrow is produced by our affections, that our affections must be\ndestroyed in order to destroy the root of sorrow, and that he could\nteach mankind how to eradicate all the affections, all passions, all\ndesires. Such doctrines were intelligible; and considering that Buddha\nreceived people of all castes, who after renouncing the world and\nassuming their yellow robes, were sure of finding a livelihood from\nthe charitable gifts of the people, it is not surprising that the\nnumber of his followers should have grown so rapidly. If Buddha really\ntaught the metaphysical doctrines which are ascribed to him by\nsubsequent writers--and this is a point which it is impossible to\nsettle--not one in a thousand among his followers would have been\ncapable of appreciating those speculations. They must have been\nreserved for a few of his disciples, and they would never have formed\nthe nucleus for a popular religion.\n\n[Footnote 63: Neander, 'History of the Church,' vol. i. p. 817:\n[Greek: Ton Zaradan kai Boudan kai ton Christon kai ton Manichaion\nhena kai ton auton einai.]]\n\nNearly all who have written on Buddhism, and M. Barthelemy Saint-Hilaire\namong the rest, have endeavoured to show that these metaphysical doctrines\nof Buddha were borrowed from the earlier systems of Brahmanic philosophy,\nand more particularly from the Sankhya system. The reputed founder of that\nsystem is Kapila, and we saw before how Professor Wilson actually changed\nthe name of Kapilavastu, the birthplace of Buddha, into a mere\nallegory:--Kapilavastu meaning, according to him, the substance of Kapila\nor of the Sankhya philosophy. This is not all. Mr. Spence Hardy (p. 132)\nquotes a legend in which it is said that Buddha was in a former existence\nthe ascetic Kapila, that the _S_akya princes came to his hermitage, and\nthat he pointed out to them the proper place for founding a new city, which\ncity was named after him Kapilavastu. But we have looked in vain for any\ndefinite similarities between the system of Kapila, as known to us in the\nSankhya-sutras, and the Abhidharma, or the metaphysics of the Buddhists.\nSuch similarities would be invaluable. They would probably enable us to\ndecide whether Buddha borrowed from Kapila or Kapila from Buddha, and thus\ndetermine the real chronology of the philosophical literature of India, as\neither prior or subsequent to the Buddhist era. There are certain notions\nwhich Buddha shares in common not only with Kapila, but with every Hindu\nphilosopher. The idea of transmigration, the belief in the continuing\neffects of our good and bad actions, extending from our former to our\npresent and from our present to our future lives, the sense that life is a\ndream or a burden, the admission of the uselessness of religious\nobservances after the attainment of the highest knowledge, all these\nbelong, so to say, to the national philosophy of India. We meet with these\nideas everywhere, in the poetry, the philosophy, the religion of the\nHindus. They cannot be claimed as the exclusive property of any system in\nparticular. But if we look for more special coincidences between Buddha's\ndoctrines and those of Kapila or other Indian philosophers, we look in\nvain. At first it might seem as if the very first aphorism of Kapila,\nnamely, 'the complete cessation of pain, which is of three kinds, is the\nhighest aim of man,' was merely a philosophical paraphrase of the events\nwhich, as we saw, determined Buddha to renounce the world in search of the\ntrue road to salvation. But though the starting-point of Kapila and Buddha\nis the same, a keen sense of human misery and a yearning after a better\nstate, their roads diverge so completely and their goals are so far apart,\nthat it is difficult to understand how, almost by common consent, Buddha is\nsupposed either to have followed in the footsteps of Kapila, or to have\nchanged Kapila's philosophy into a religion. Some scholars imagine that\nthere was a more simple and primitive philosophy which was taught by\nKapila, and that the Sutras which are now ascribed to him, are of later\ndate. It is impossible either to prove or to disprove such a view. At\npresent we know Kapila's philosophy from his Sutras only,[64] and these\nSutras seem to us posterior, not anterior, to Buddha. Though the name of\nBuddha is not mentioned in the Sutras, his doctrines are clearly alluded to\nand controverted in several parts of them.\n\n[Footnote 64: Of Kapila's Sutras, together with the commentary of\nVi_g_nana Bhikshu, a new edition was published in 1856, by Dr.\nFitz-Edward Hall, in the 'Bibliotheca Indica.' An excellent\ntranslation of the Aphorisms, with illustrative extracts from the\ncommentaries, was printed for the use of the Benares College, by Dr.\nBallantyne.]\n\nIt has been said that Buddha and Kapila were both atheists, and that\nBuddha borrowed his atheism from Kapila. But atheism is an indefinite\nterm, and may mean very different things. In one sense every Indian\nphilosopher was an atheist, for they all perceived that the gods of\nthe populace could not claim the attributes that belong to a Supreme\nBeing. But all the important philosophical systems of the Brahmans\nadmit, in some form or other, the existence of an Absolute and Supreme\nBeing, the source of all that exists, or seems to exist. Kapila, when\naccused of atheism, is not accused of denying the existence of an\nAbsolute Being. He is accused of denying the existence of I_s_vara,\nwhich in general means the Lord, but which in the passage where it\noccurs, refers to the I_s_vara of the Yogins, or mystic philosophers.\nThey maintained that in an ecstatic state man possesses the power of\nseeing God face to face, and they wished to have this ecstatic\nintuition included under the head of sensuous perceptions. To this\nKapila demurred. You have not proved the existence of your Lord, he\nsays, and therefore I see no reason why I should alter my definition\nof sensuous perception in order to accommodate your ecstatic visions.\nThe commentator narrates that this strong language was used by Kapila\nin order to silence the wild talk of the Mystics, and that, though he\ntaunted his adversaries with having failed to prove the existence of\ntheir Lord, he himself did not deny the existence of a Supreme Being.\nKapila, however, went further. He endeavoured to show that all the\nattributes which the Mystics ascribed to their Lord are inappropriate.\nHe used arguments very similar to those which have lately been used\nwith such ability by a distinguished Bampton Lecturer. The supreme\nlord of the Mystics, Kapila argued, is either absolute and\nunconditioned (mukta), or he is bound and conditioned (baddha). If he\nis absolute and unconditioned, he cannot enter into the condition of a\nCreator; he would have no desires which could instigate him to create.\nIf, on the contrary, he is represented as active, and entering on the\nwork of creation, he would no longer be the absolute and unchangeable\nBeing which we are asked to believe in. Kapila, like the preacher of\nour own days, was accused of paving the road to atheism, but his\nphilosophy was nevertheless admitted as orthodox, because, in addition\nto sensuous perception and inductive reasoning, Kapila professed\nemphatically his belief in revelation, i. e. in the Veda, and allowed\nto it a place among the recognised instruments of knowledge. Buddha\nrefused to allow to the Vedas any independent authority whatever, and\nthis constituted the fundamental difference between the two\nphilosophers.\n\nWhether Kapila's philosophy was really in accordance with the spirit\nof the Veda, is quite a different question. No philosophy, at least\nnothing like a definite system, is to be found in the sacred hymns of\nthe Brahmans; and though the Vedanta philosophy does less violence to\nthe passages which it quotes from the Veda, the authors of the Veda\nwould have been as much surprised at the consequences deduced from\ntheir words by the Vedantin, as by the strange meaning attributed to\nthem by Kapila. The Vedanta philosopher, like Kapila, would deny the\nexistence of a Creator in the usual sense of the word. He explained\nthe universe as an emanation from Brahman, which is all in all. Kapila\nadmitted two principles, an absolute Spirit and Nature, and he looked\nupon the universe as produced by a reflection of Nature thrown on the\nmirror of the absolute Spirit. Both systems seem to regard creation,\nor the created world, as a misfortune, as an unfortunate accident. But\nthey maintain that its effects can be neutralised, and that\nemancipation from the bonds of earthly existence is possible by means\nof philosophy. The Vedanta philosopher imagines he is free when he has\narrived at the knowledge that nothing exists but Brahman; that all\nphenomena are merely the result of ignorance; that after the\ndestruction of that ignorance, and of its effects, all is merged again\nin Brahman, the true source of being, thought, and happiness. Kapila\ntaught that the spirit became free from all mundane fetters as soon as\nit perceived that all phenomena were only passing reflections produced\nby nature upon the spirit, and as soon as it was able to shut its eyes\nto those illusory visions. Both systems therefore, and the same\napplies to all the other philosophical systems of the Brahmans,\nadmitted an absolute or self-existing Being as the cause of all that\nexists or seems to exist. And here lies the specific difference\nbetween Kapila and Buddha. Buddha, like Kapila, maintained that this\nworld had no absolute reality, that it was a snare and an illusion.\nThe words, 'All is perishable, all is miserable, all is void,' must\nfrequently have passed his lips. But we cannot call things unreal\nunless we have a conception of something that is real. Where, then,\ndid Buddha find a reality in comparison with which this world might be\ncalled unreal? What remedy did he propose as an emancipation from the\nsufferings of this life? Difficult as it seems to us to conceive it,\nBuddha admits of no real cause of this unreal world. He denies the\nexistence not only of a Creator, but of any Absolute Being. According\nto the metaphysical tenets, if not of Buddha himself, at least of his\nsect, there is no reality anywhere, neither in the past nor in the\nfuture. True wisdom consists in perceiving the nothingness of all\nthings, and in a desire to become nothing, to be blown out, to enter\ninto Nirva_n_a. Emancipation is obtained by total extinction, not by\nabsorption in Brahman, or by a recovery of the soul's true estate. If\nto be is misery, not to be must be felicity, and this felicity is the\nhighest reward which Buddha promised to his disciples. In reading the\nAphorisms of Kapila, it is difficult not to see in his remarks on\nthose who maintain that all is void, covert attacks on Buddha and his\nfollowers. In one place (I. 43) Kapila argues that if people believed\nin the reality of thought only, and denied the reality of external\nobjects, they would soon be driven to admit that nothing at all\nexists, because we perceive our thoughts in the same manner as we\nperceive external objects. This naturally leads him to an examination\nof that extreme doctrine, according to which all that we perceive is\nvoid, and all is supposed to perish, because it is the nature of\nthings that they should perish. Kapila remarks in reference to this\nview (I. 45), that it is a mere assertion of persons who are 'not\nenlightened,' in Sanskrit a-buddha, a sarcastic expression in which it\nis very difficult not to see an allusion to Buddha, or to those who\nclaimed for him the title of the Enlightened. Kapila then proceeds to\ngive the best answer that could be given to those who taught that\ncomplete annihilation must be the highest aim of man, as the only\nmeans of a complete cessation of suffering. 'It is not so,' he says,\n'for if people wish to be free from suffering, it is they themselves\nwho wish to be free, just as in this life it is they themselves who\nwish to enjoy happiness. There must be a permanent soul in order to\nsatisfy the yearnings of the human heart, and if you deny that soul,\nyou have no right to speak of the highest aim--of man.'\n\nWhether the belief in this kind of Nirva_n_a, i. e. in a total\nextinction of being, personality, and consciousness, was at any time\nshared by the large masses of the people, is difficult either to\nassert or deny. We know nothing in ancient times of the religious\nconvictions of the millions. We only know what a few leading spirits\nbelieved, or professed to believe. That certain individuals should\nhave spoken and written of total extinction as the highest aim of man,\nis intelligible. Job cursed the day on which he was born, and Solomon\npraised the 'dead which are already dead, more than the living which\nare yet alive,' 'Yea, better is he than both they,' he said, 'which\nhath not yet been, who hath not seen the evil work that is done under\nthe sun,' Voltaire said in his own flippant way, 'On aime la vie, mais\nle neant ne laisse pas d'avoir du bon;' and a modern German\nphilosopher, who has found much favour with those who profess to\ndespise Kant, Schelling, and Hegel, writes, 'Considered in its\nobjective value, it is more than doubtful that life is preferable to\nthe Nothing. I should say even, that if experience and reflection\ncould lift up their voices they would recommend to us the Nothing. We\nare what ought not to be, and we shall therefore cease to be.' Under\npeculiar circumstances, in the agonies of despair, or under the\ngathering clouds of madness, such language is intelligible; but to\nbelieve, as we are asked to believe, that one half of mankind had\nyearned for total annihilation, would be tantamount to a belief that\nthere is a difference in kind between man and man. Buddhist\nphilosophers, no doubt, held this doctrine, and it cannot be denied\nthat it found a place in the Buddhist canon. But even among the\ndifferent schools of Buddhist philosophers, very different views are\nadopted as to the true meaning of Nirva_n_a, and with the modern\nBuddhists of Burmah, Nigban, as they call it, is defined simply as\nfreedom from old age, disease, and death. We do not find fault with M.\nBarthelemy Saint-Hilaire for having so emphatically pressed the charge\nof nihilism against Buddha himself. In one portion of the Buddhist\ncanon the most extreme views of nihilism are put into his mouth. All\nwe can say is that that canon is later than Buddha, and that in the\nsame canon[65] the founder of Buddhism, after having entered into\nNirva_n_a, is still spoken of as living, nay, as showing himself to\nthose who believe in him. Buddha, who denied the existence, or at\nleast the divine nature, of the gods worshipped by the Brahmans, was\nraised himself to the rank of a deity by some of his followers (the\nAi_s_varikas), and we need not wonder therefore if his Nirva_n_a too\nwas gradually changed into an Elysian field. And finally, if we may\nargue from human nature, such as we find it at all times and in all\ncountries, we confess that we cannot bring ourselves to believe that\nthe reformer of India, the teacher of so perfect a code of morality,\nthe young prince who gave up all he had in order to help those whom\nhe saw afflicted in mind, body, or estate, should have cared much\nabout speculations which he knew would either be misunderstood, or not\nunderstood at all, by those whom he wished to benefit; that he should\nhave thrown away one of the most powerful weapons in the hands of\nevery religious teacher, the belief in a future life, and should not\nhave seen, that if this life was sooner or later to end in nothing, it\nwas hardly worth the trouble which he took himself, or the sacrifices\nwhich he imposed on his disciples.\n\n_April, 1862._\n\n[Footnote 65: 'L'enfant egare,' par Ph. Ed. Foucaux, p. 19.]\n\n\n\n\nX.\n\nBUDDHIST PILGRIMS.[66]\n\n\nM. Stanislas Julien has commenced the publication of a work entitled,\n'Voyages des Pelerins Bouddhistes.' The first volume, published in the\nyear 1853, contains the biography of Hiouen-thsang, who, in the middle\nof the seventh century A.D., travelled from China through Central Asia\nto India. The second, which has just reached us, gives us the first\nportion of Hiouen-thsang's own diary.\n\n[Footnote 66: 'Voyages des Pelerins Bouddhistes.' Vol. I. Histoire de\nla Vie de Hiouen-thsang, et de ses Voyages dans l'Inde, depuis l'an\n629 jusqu'en 645, par Hoeili et Yen-thsong; traduite du Chinois par\nStanislas Julien.\n\nVol. II. Memoires sur les Contrees Occidentales, traduits du Sanscrit\nen Chinois, en l'an 648, par Hiouen-thsang, et du Chinois en Francais,\npas Stanislas Julien. Paris, 1853-1857: B. Duprat. London and\nEdinburgh: Williams and Norgate.]\n\nThere are not many books of travel which can be compared to these\nvolumes. Hiouen-thsang passed through countries which few had visited\nbefore him. He describes parts of the world which no one has explored\nsince, and where even our modern maps contain hardly more than the\ningenious conjectures of Alexander von Humboldt. His observations are\nminute; his geographical, statistical, and historical remarks most\naccurate and trustworthy. The chief object of his travels was to study\nthe religion of Buddha, the great reformer of India. Some Chinese\npilgrims visited India before, several after, his time. Hiouen-thsang,\nhowever, is considered by the Chinese themselves as the most\ndistinguished of these pilgrims, and M. Stanislas Julien has rightly\nassigned to him the first place in his collection.\n\nIn order to understand what Hiouen-thsang was, and to appreciate his\nlife and his labours, we must first cast a glance at the history of a\nreligion which, however unattractive and even mischievous it may\nappear to ourselves, inspired her votary with the true spirit of\ndevotion and self-sacrifice. That religion has now existed for exactly\n2,400 years. To millions and millions of human beings it has been the\nonly preparation for a higher life placed within their reach. And even\nat the present day it counts among the hordes of Asia a more numerous\narray of believers than any other faith, not excluding Mohammedanism\nor Christianity. The religion of Buddha took its origin in India about\nthe middle of the sixth century B.C., but it did not assume its\npolitical importance till about the time of Alexander's invasion. We\nknow little, therefore, of its first origin and spreading, because the\ncanonical works on which we must chiefly rely for information belong\nto a much later period, and are strongly tinged with a legendary\ncharacter. The very existence of such a being as Buddha, the son of\n_S_uddhodana, king of Kapilavastu, has been doubted. But what can\nnever be doubted is this, that Buddhism, such as we find it in\nRussia[67] and Sweden[68] on the very threshold of European\ncivilisation, in the north of Asia, in Mongolia, Tatary, China, Tibet,\nNepal, Siam, Burmah, and Ceylon, had its origin in India. Doctrines\nsimilar to those of Buddha existed in that country long before his\ntime. We can trace them like meandering roots below the surface long\nbefore we reach the point where the roots strike up into a stem, and\nthe stem branches off again into fruit-bearing branches. What was\noriginal and new in Buddha was his changing a philosophical system\ninto a practical doctrine; his taking the wisdom of the few, and\ncoining as much of it as he thought genuine for the benefit of the\nmany; his breaking with the traditional formalities of the past, and\nproclaiming for the first time, in spite of castes and creeds, the\nequality of the rich and the poor, the foolish and the wise, the\n'twice-born' and the outcast. Buddhism, as a religion and as a\npolitical fact, was a reaction against Brahmanism, though it retained\nmuch of that more primitive form of faith and worship. Buddhism, in\nits historical growth, presupposes Brahmanism, and, however hostile\nthe mutual relation of these two religions may have been at different\nperiods of Indian history, it can be shown, without much difficulty,\nthat the latter was but a natural consequence of the former.\n\nThe ancient religion of the Aryan inhabitants of India had started,\nlike the religion of the Greeks, the Romans, the Germans, Slaves, and\nCelts, with a simple and intelligible mythological phraseology. In the\nVeda--for there is but one real Veda--the names of all the so-called\ngods or Devas betray their original physical character and meaning\nwithout disguise. The fire was praised and invoked by the name of\n\"Agni\" (_ignis_); the earth by the name of \"P_r_ithvi\" (the broad);\nthe sky by the name of \"Dyu\" (Jupiter), and afterwards of \"Indra;\" the\nfirmament and the waters by the name of \"Varu_n_a,\" or [Greek:\nOvravos]. The sun was invoked by many names, such as \"Surya,\"\n\"Savit_r_i,\" \"Vish_n_u,\" or \"Mitra;\" and the dawn rejoiced in such\ntitles as \"Ushas,\" \"Urva_s_i,\" \"Ahana,\" and \"Surya.\" Nor was the moon\nforgotten. For though it is mentioned but rarely under its usual name\nof \"_K_andra,\" it is alluded to under the more sacred appellation of\n\"Soma;\" and each of its four phases had received its own denomination.\nThere is hardly any part of nature, if it could impress the human mind\nin any way with the ideas of a higher power, of order, eternity, or\nbeneficence,--whether the winds, or the rivers, or the trees, or the\nmountains,--without a name and representative in the early Hindu\nPantheon. No doubt there existed in the human mind, from the very\nbeginning, something, whether we call it a suspicion, an innate idea,\nan intuition, or a sense of the Divine. What distinguishes man from\nthe rest of the animal creation is chiefly that ineradicable feeling\nof dependence and reliance upon some higher power, a consciousness of\nbondage, from which the very name of \"religion\" was derived. \"It is He\nthat hath made us, and not we ourselves.\" The presence of that power\nwas felt everywhere, and nowhere more clearly and strongly than in the\nrising and setting of the sun, in the change of day and night, of\nspring and winter, of birth and death. But, although the Divine\npresence was felt everywhere, it was impossible in that early period\nof thought, and with a language incapable as yet of expressing\nanything but material objects, to conceive the idea of God in its\npurity and fullness, or to assign to it an adequate and worthy\nexpression. Children cannot think the thoughts of men, and the poets\nof the Veda could not speak the language of Aristotle. It was by a\nslow process that the human mind elaborated the idea of one absolute\nand supreme Godhead; and by a still slower process that the human\nlanguage matured a word to express that idea. A period of growth was\ninevitable, and those who, from a mere guess of their own, do not\nhesitate to speak authoritatively of a primeval revelation, which\nimparted to the Pagan world the idea of the Godhead in all its purity,\nforget that, however pure and sublime and spiritual that revelation\nmight have been, there was no language capable as yet of expressing\nthe high and immaterial conceptions of that Heaven-sent message. The\nreal history of religion, during the earliest mythological period,\nrepresents to us a slow process of fermentation in thought and\nlanguage, with its various interruptions, its overflowings, its\ncoolings, its deposits, and its gradual clearing from all extraneous\nand foreign admixture. This is not only the case among the\nIndo-European or Aryan races in India, in Greece, and in Germany. In\nPeru, and wherever the primitive formations of the intellectual world\ncrop out, the process is exactly the same. \"The religion of the sun,\"\nas it has been boldly said by the author of the \"Spanish Conquest in\nAmerica,\" \"was inevitable.\" It was like a deep furrow which that\nheavenly luminary drew, in its silent procession from east to west,\nover the virgin mind of the gazing multitude; and in the impression\nleft there by the first rising and setting of the sun, there lay the\ndark seed of a faith in a more than human being, the first intimation\nof a life without beginning, of a world without end. Manifold seed\nfell afterwards into the soil once broken. Something divine was\ndiscovered in everything that moved and lived. Names were stammered\nforth in anxious haste, and no single name could fully express what\nlay hidden in the human mind and wanted expression--the idea of an\nabsolute, and perfect, and supreme, and immortal Essence. Thus a\ncountless host of nominal gods was called into being, and for a time\nseemed to satisfy the wants of a thoughtless multitude. But there were\nthoughtful men at all times, and their reason protested against the\ncontradictions of a mythological phraseology, though it had been\nhallowed by sacred customs and traditions. That rebellious reason had\nbeen at work from the very first, always ready to break the yoke of\nnames and formulas which no longer expressed what they were intended\nto express. The idea which had yearned for utterance was the idea of a\nsupreme and absolute Power, and that yearning was not satisfied by\nsuch names as \"Kronos,\" \"Zeus,\" and \"Apollon.\" The very sound of such\na word as \"God,\" used in the plural, jarred on the ear, as if we were\nto speak of two universes, or of a single twin. There are many words,\nas Greek and Latin grammarians tell us, which, if used in the plural,\nhave a different meaning from what they have in the singular. The\nLatin \"aeedes\" means a temple; if used in the plural it means a house.\n\"Deus\" and [Greek: Theos] ought to be added to the same class of\nwords. The idea of supreme perfection excluded limitation, and the\nidea of God excluded the possibility of many gods. This may seem\nlanguage too abstract and metaphysical for the early times of which we\nare speaking. But the ancient poets of the Vedic hymns have expressed\nthe same thought with perfect clearness and simplicity. In the\nRig-veda (I. 164, 46) we read:--\n\n\"That which is one the sages speak of in many ways--they call it\n'Agni,' 'Yama,' 'Matari_s_van.'\"\n\n[Footnote 67: See W. Spottiswoode's 'Tarantasse Journey,' p. 220,\nVisit to the Buddhist Temple.]\n\n[Footnote 68: The only trace of the influence of Buddhism among the\n_K_udic races, the Fins, Laps, &c., is found in the name of their\npriests and sorcerers, the Shamans. Shaman is supposed to be a\ncorruption of _S_rama_n_a, a name applied to Buddha, and to Buddhist\npriests in general. The ancient mythological religion of the _K_udic\nraces has nothing in common with Buddhism. See Castren's 'Lectures on\nFinnish Mythology,' 1853. Finland was ceded by Sweden to Russia in\n1809, See the Author's 'Survey of Languages,' second edition, p. 116.\nShamanism found its way from India to Siberia via Tibet, China, and\nMongolia. Rules on the formation of magic figures, on the treatment of\ndiseases by charms, on the worship of evil spirits, on the acquisition\nof supernatural powers, on charms, incantations, and other branches of\nShaman witchcraft, are found in the Stan-gyour, or the second part of\nthe Tibetan canon, and in some of the late Tantras of the Nepalese\ncollection.]\n\nBesides the plurality of gods, which was sure to lead to their\ndestruction, there was a taint of mortality which they could not throw\noff. They all derived their being from the life of nature. The god who\nrepresented the sun was liable, in the mythological language of\nantiquity, to all the accidents which threatened the solar luminary.\nThough he might rise in immortal youth in the morning, he was\nconquered by the shadows of the night, and the powers of winter seemed\nto overthrow his heavenly throne. There is nothing in nature free from\nchange, and the gods of nature fell under the thralldom of nature's\nlaws. The sun must set, and the solar gods and heroes must die. There\nmust be one God, there must be one unchanging Deity; this was the\nsilent conviction of the human mind. There are many gods, liable to\nall the vicissitudes of life; this was everywhere the answer of\nmythological religion.\n\nIt is curious to observe in how many various ways these two opposite\nprinciples were kept for a time from open conflict, and how long the\nheathen temples resisted the enemy which was slowly and imperceptibly\nundermining their very foundations. In Greece this mortal element,\ninherent in all gods, was eliminated to a great extent by the\nconception of heroes. Whatever was too human in the ancient legends\ntold of Zeus and Apollon was transfered to so-called half-gods or\nheroes, who were represented as the sons or favorites of the gods, and\nwho bore their fate under a slightly altered name. The twofold\ncharacter of Herakles as a god and as a hero is acknowledged even by\nHerodotus, and some of his epithets would have been sufficient to\nindicate his solar and originally divine character. But, in order to\nmake some of the legends told of the solar deity possible or\nconceivable, it was necessary to represent Herakles as a more human\nbeing, and to make him rise to the seat of the Immortals only after he\nhad endured toils and sufferings incompatible with the dignity of an\nOlympian god. We find the same idea in Peru, only that there it led to\ndifferent results. A thinking, or, as he was called, a freethinking\nInca[69] remarked that this perpetual travelling of the sun was a sign\nof servitude,[70] and he threw doubts upon the divine nature of such\nan unquiet thing as that great luminary appeared to him to be. And\nthis misgiving led to a tradition which, even should it be unfounded\nin history, had some truth in itself, that there was in Peru an\nearlier worship, that of an invisible Deity, the Creator of the world,\nPachacamac. In Greece, also, there are signs of a similar craving\nafter the \"Unknown God.\" A supreme God was wanted, and Zeus, the\nstripling of Creta, was raised to that rank. He became God above all\ngods--[Greek: hapanton kyrios] as Pindar calls him. Yet more was\nwanted than a mere Zeus; and thus a supreme Fate or Spell was imagined\nbefore which all the gods, and even Zeus, had to bow. And even this\nFate was not allowed to remain supreme, and there was something in the\ndestinies of man which was called [Greek: hypermoron], or \"beyond\nFate.\" The most awful solution, however, of the problem belongs to\nTeutonic mythology. Here, also, some heroes were introduced; but their\ndeath was only the beginning of the final catastrophe. \"All gods must\ndie.\" Such is the last word of that religion which had grown up in the\nforests of Germany, and found a last refuge among the glaciers and\nvolcanoes of Iceland. The death of Sigurd, the descendant of Odin,\ncould not avert the death of Balder, the son of Odin; and the death of\nBalder was soon to be followed by the death of Odin himself, and of\nall the immortal gods.\n\nAll this was inevitable, and Prometheus, the man of forethought, could\nsafely predict the fall of Zeus. The struggles by which reason and\nfaith overthrow tradition and superstition vary in different countries\nand at different times; but the final victory is always on their side.\nIn India the same antagonism manifested itself, but what there seemed\na victory of reason threatened to become the destruction of all\nreligious faith. At first there was hardly a struggle. On the\nprimitive mythological stratum of thought two new formations\narose,--the Brahmanical philosophy and the Brahmanical ceremonial; the\none opening the widest avenues of philosophical thought, the other\nfencing all religious feeling within the narrowest barriers. Both\nderived their authority from the same source. Both professed to carry\nout the meaning and purpose of the Veda. Thus we see on the one side,\nthe growth of a numerous and powerful priesthood, and the\nestablishment of a ceremonial which embraced every moment of a man's\nlife from his birth to his death. There was no event which might have\nmoved the heart to a spontaneous outpouring of praise or thanksgiving,\nwhich was not regulated by priestly formulas. Every prayer was\nprescribed, every sacrifice determined. Every god had his share, and\nthe claims of each deity on the adoration of the faithful were set\ndown with such punctiliousness, the danger of offending their pride\nwas represented in such vivid colors, that no one would venture to\napproach their presence without the assistance of a well-paid staff of\nmasters of divine ceremonies. It was impossible to avoid sin without\nthe help of the Brahmans. They alone knew the food that might properly\nbe eaten, the air which might properly be breathed, the dress which\nmight properly be worn. They alone could tell what god should be\ninvoked, what sacrifice be offered; and the slightest mistake of\npronunciation, the slightest neglect about clarified butter, or the\nlength of the ladle in which it was to be offered, might bring\ndestruction upon the head of the unassisted worshipper. No nation was\never so completely priest-ridden as the Hindus under the sway of the\nBrahmanic law. Yet, on the other side, the same people were allowed to\nindulge in the most unrestrained freedom of thought, and in the\nschools of their philosophy the very names of their gods were never\nmentioned. Their existence was neither denied nor asserted; they were\nof no greater importance in the system of the world of thought than\ntrees or mountains, men or animals; and to offer sacrifices to them\nwith a hope of rewards, so far from being meritorious, was considered\nas dangerous to that emancipation to which a clear perception of\nphilosophical truth was to lead the patient student. There was one\nsystem which taught that there existed but one Being, without a\nsecond; that everything else which seemed to exist was but a dream and\nillusion, and that this illusion might be removed by a true knowledge\nof the one Being. There was another system which admitted two\nprinciples,--one a subjective and self-existent mind, the other\nmatter, endowed with qualities. Here the world, with its joys and\nsorrows, was explained as the result of the subjective Self,\nreflecting itself in the mirror of matter; and final emancipation was\nobtained by turning away the eyes from the play of nature, and being\nabsorbed in the knowledge of the time and absolute Self. A third\nsystem started with the admission of atoms, and explained every\neffect, including the elements and the mind, animals, men, and gods,\nfrom the concurrence of these atoms. In fact, as M. Cousin remarked\nmany years ago, the history of the philosophy of India is \"un abrege\nde l'histoire de la philosophie.\" The germs of all these systems are\ntraced back to the Vedas, Brahma_n_as, and the Upanishads, and the man\nwho believed in any of them was considered as orthodox as the devout\nworshipper of the gods; the one was saved by knowledge and faith, the\nother by works and faith.\n\nSuch was the state of the Hindu mind when Buddhism arose; or, rather,\nsuch was the state of the Hindu mind which gave rise to Buddhism.\nBuddha himself went through the school of the Brahmans. He performed\ntheir penances, he studied their philosophy, and he at last claimed\nthe name of \"the Buddha,\" or \"the Enlightened,\" when he threw away the\nwhole ceremonial, with its sacrifices, superstitions, penances, and\ncastes, as worthless, and changed the complicated systems of\nphilosophy into a short doctrine of salvation. This doctrine of\nsalvation has been called pure Atheism and Nihilism, and it no doubt\nwas liable to both charges in its metaphysical character, and in that\nform in which we chiefly know it. It was Atheistic, not because it\ndenied the existence of such gods as Indra and Brahma. Buddha did not\neven condescend to deny their existence. But it was called Atheistic,\nlike the Sankhya philosophy, which admitted but one subjective Self,\nand considered creation as an illusion of that Self, imaging itself\nfor a while in the mirror of nature. As there was no reality in\ncreation, there could be no real Creator. All that seemed to exist was\nthe result of ignorance. To remove that ignorance was to remove the\ncause of all that seemed to exist. How a religion which taught the\nannihilation of all existence, of all thought, of all individuality\nand personality, as the highest object of all endeavors, could have\nlaid hold of the minds of millions of human beings, and how at the\nsame time, by enforcing the duties of morality, justice, kindness, and\nself-sacrifice, it could have exercised a decided beneficial\ninfluence, not only on the natives of India, but on the lowest\nbarbarians of Central Asia, is a riddle which no one has been able to\nsolve. We must distinguish, it seems, between Buddhism as a religion,\nand Buddhism as a a religion, and Buddhism as a philosophy.\nThe former addressed itself to millions, the latter to a few isolated\nthinkers. It is from these isolated thinkers, however, and from their\nliterary compositions, that we are apt to form our notions of what\nBuddhism was, while, as a matter of fact, not one in a thousand would\nhave been capable of following these metaphysical speculations. To the\npeople at large Buddhism was a moral and religious, not a\nphilosophical reform. Yet even its morality has a metaphysical tinge.\nThe morality which it teaches is not a morality of expediency and\nrewards. Virtue is not enjoined because it necessarily leads to\nhappiness. No; virtue is to be practised, but happiness is to be\nshunned, and the only reward for virtue is that it subdues the\npassions, and thus prepares the human mind for that knowledge which is\nto end in complete annihilation. There are ten commandments which\nBuddha imposes on his disciples.[71] They are--\n\n1. Not to kill.\n2. Not to steal.\n3. Not to commit adultery.\n4. Not to lie.\n5. Not to get intoxicated.\n6. To abstain from unseasonable meals.\n7. To abstain from public spectacles.\n\n[Footnote 69: Helps, _The Spanish Conquest_, vol. iii. p. 503: \"Que\ncosa tam inquieta non le parescia ser Dios.\"]\n\n[Footnote 70: On the servitude of the gods, see the \"Essay on\nComparative Mythology,\" _Oxford Essays_, 1856, p. 69.]\n\n[Footnote 71: See Burnouf, 'Lotus de la bonne Loi,' p. 444. Barthelemy\nSaint-Hilaire, 'Du Bouddhisme,' p. 132. Ch.F.Neumann, 'Catechism of\nthe Shamans.']\n\n8. To abstain from expensive dresses.\n9. Not to have a large bed.\n10. Not to receive silver or gold.\n\nThe duties of those who embraced a religious life were more severe.\nThey were not allowed to wear any dress except rags collected in\ncemeteries, and these rags they had to sew together with their own\nhands. A yellow cloak was to be thrown over these rags. Their food was\nto be extremely simple, and they were not to possess anything, except\nwhat they could get by collecting alms from door to door in their\nwooden bowls. They had but one meal in the morning, and were not\nallowed to touch any food after midday. They were to live in forests,\nnot in cities, and their only shelter was to be the shadow of a tree.\nThere they were to sit, to spread their carpet, but not to lie down,\neven during sleep. They were allowed to enter the nearest city or\nvillage in order to beg, but they had to return to their forest before\nnight, and the only change which was allowed, or rather prescribed,\nwas when they had to spend some nights in the cemeteries, there to\nmeditate on the vanity of all things. And what was the object of all\nthis asceticism? Simply to guide each individual towards that path\nwhich would finally bring him to Nirva_n_a, to utter extinction or\nannihilation. The very definition of virtue was that it helped man to\ncross over to the other shore, and that other shore was not death, but\ncessation of all being. Thus charity was considered a virtue; modesty,\npatience, courage, contemplation, and science, all were virtues, but\nthey were practised only as a means of arriving at deliverance. Buddha\nhimself exhibited the perfection of all these virtues. His charity\nknew no bounds. When he saw a tigress starved, and unable to feed her\ncubs, he is said to have made a charitable oblation of his body to be\ndevoured by them. Hiouen-thsang visited the place on the banks of the\nIndus where this miracle was supposed to have happened, and he remarks\nthat the soil is still red there from the blood of Buddha, and that\nthe trees and flowers have the same colour.[72] As to the modesty of\nBuddha, nothing could exceed it. One day, king Prasena_g_it, the\nprotector of Buddha, called on him to perform miracles, in order to\nsilence his adversaries, the Brahmans. Buddha consented. He performed\nthe required miracles; but he exclaimed, 'Great king, I do not teach\nthe law to my pupils, telling them, Go, ye saints, and before the eyes\nof the Brahmans and householders perform, by means of your\nsupernatural powers, miracles greater than any man can perform. I tell\nthem, when I teach them the law, Live, ye saints, hiding your good\nworks and showing your sins.' And yet, all this self-sacrificing\ncharity, all this self-sacrificing humility, by which the life of\nBuddha was distinguished throughout, and which he preached to the\nmultitudes that came to listen to him, had, we are told, but one\nobject, and that object was final annihilation. It is impossible\nalmost to believe it, and yet when we turn away our eyes from the\npleasing picture of that high morality which Buddha preached for the\nfirst time to all classes of men, and look into the dark pages of his\ncode of religious metaphysics, we can hardly find another explanation.\nFortunately, the millions who embraced the doctrines of Buddha, and\nwere saved by it from the depths of barbarism, brutality, and\nselfishness, were unable to fathom the meaning of his metaphysical\ndoctrines. With them the Nirva_n_a to which they aspired, became only\na relative deliverance from the miseries of human life; nay, it took\nthe bright colours of a paradise, to be regained by the pious\nworshipper of Buddha. But was this the meaning of Buddha himself? In\nhis 'Four Verities' he does not, indeed, define Nirva_n_a, except by\ncessation of all pain; but when he traces the cause of pain, and\nteaches the means of destroying not only pain itself, but the cause of\npain, we shall see that his Nirva_n_a assumes a very different\nmeaning. His 'Four Verities' are very simple. The first asserts the\nexistence of pain; the second asserts that the cause of pain lies in\nsin; the third asserts that pain may cease by Nirva_n_a; the fourth\nshows the way that leads to Nirva_n_a. This way to Nirva_n_a consists\nin eight things--right faith (orthodoxy), right judgment (logic),\nright language (veracity), right purpose (honesty), right practice\n(religious life), right obedience (lawful life), right memory, and\nright meditation. All these precepts might be understood as part of a\nsimply moral code, closing with a kind of mystic meditation on the\nhighest object of thought, and with a yearning after deliverance from\nall worldly ties. Similar systems have prevailed in many parts of the\nworld, without denying the existence of an absolute Being, or of a\nsomething towards which the human mind tends, in which it is absorbed\nor even annihilated. Awful as such a mysticism may appear, yet it\nleaves still something that exists, it acknowledges a feeling of\ndependence in man. It knows of a first cause, though it may have\nnothing to predicate of it except that it is [Greek: to kinoun\nakineton]. A return is possible from that desert. The first cause may\nbe called to life again. It may take the names of Creator, Preserver,\nRuler; and when the simplicity and helplessness of the child have\nre-entered the heart of man, the name of father will come back to the\nlips which had uttered in vain all the names of a philosophical\ndespair. But from the Nirva_n_a of the Buddhist metaphysician there is\nno return. He starts from the idea that the highest object is to\nescape pain. Life in his eyes is nothing but misery; birth the cause\nof all evil, from which even death cannot deliver him, because he\nbelieves in an eternal cycle of existence, or in transmigration. There\nis no deliverance from evil, except by breaking through the prison\nwalls, not only of life, but of existence, and by extirpating the last\ncause of existence. What, then, is the cause of existence? The cause\nof existence, says the Buddhist metaphysician, is attachment--an\ninclination towards something; and this attachment arises from thirst\nor desire. Desire presupposes perception of the object desired;\nperception presupposes contact; contact, at least a sentient contact,\npresupposes the senses; and, as the senses can only perceive what has\nform and name, or what is distinct, distinction is the real cause of\nall the effects which end in existence, birth, and pain. Now, this\ndistinction is itself the result of conceptions or ideas; but these\nideas, so far from being, as in Greek philosophy, the true and\neverlasting forms of the Absolute, are here represented as mere\nillusions, the effects of ignorance (avidya). Ignorance, therefore, is\nreally the primary cause of all that seems to exist. To know that\nignorance, as the root of all evil, is the same as to destroy it, and\nwith it all effects that flowed from it. In order to see how this\ndoctrine affects the individual, let us watch the last moments of\nBuddha as described by his disciples. He enters into the first stage\nof meditation when he feels freedom from sin, acquires a knowledge of\nthe nature of all things, and has no desire except that of Nirva_n_a.\nBut he still feels pleasure; he even uses his reasoning and\ndiscriminating powers. The use of these powers ceases in the second\nstage of meditation, when nothing remains but a desire after\nNirva_n_a, and a general feeling of satisfaction, arising from his\nintellectual perfection. That satisfaction, also, is extinguished in\nthe third stage. Indifference succeeds; yet there is still\nself-consciousness, and a certain amount of physical pleasure. These\nlast remnants are destroyed in the fourth stage; memory fades away,\nall pleasure and pain are gone, and the doors of Nirva_n_a now open\nbefore him. After having passed these four stages once, Buddha went\nthrough them a second time, but he died before he attained again to\nthe fourth stage. We must soar still higher, and though we may feel\ngiddy and disgusted, we must sit out this tragedy till the curtain\nfalls. After the four stages of meditation[73] are passed, the Buddha\n(and every being is to become a Buddha) enters into the infinity of\nspace; then into the infinity of intelligence; and thence he passes\ninto the region of nothing. But even here there is no rest. There is\nstill something left--the idea of the nothing in which he rejoices.\nThat also must be destroyed, and it is destroyed in the fourth and\nlast region, where there is not even the idea of a nothing left, and\nwhere there is complete rest, undisturbed by nothing, or what is not\nnothing.[74] There are few persons who will take the trouble of\nreasoning out such hallucinations; least of all, persons who are\naccustomed to the sober language of Greek philosophy; and it is the\nmore interesting to hear the opinion which one of the best\nAristotelean scholars of the present day, after a patient examination\nof the authentic documents of Buddhism, has formed of its system of\nmetaphysics. M. Barthelemy Saint-Hilaire, in a review on Buddhism,\npublished in the 'Journal des Savants,' says:\n\n     'Buddhism has no God; it has not even the confused and vague\n     notion of a Universal Spirit in which the human soul,\n     according to the orthodox doctrine of Brahmanism, and the\n     Sankhya philosophy, may be absorbed. Nor does it admit\n     nature, in the proper sense of the word, and it ignores that\n     profound division between spirit and matter which forms the\n     system and the glory of Kapila. It confounds man with all\n     that surrounds him, all the while preaching to him the laws\n     of virtue. Buddhism, therefore, cannot unite the human soul,\n     which it does not even mention, with a God, whom it ignores;\n     nor with nature, which it does not know better. Nothing\n     remained but to annihilate the soul; and in order to be\n     quite sure that the soul may not re-appear under some new\n     form in this world, which has been cursed as the abode of\n     illusion and misery, Buddhism destroys its very elements,\n     and never gets tired of glorying in this achievement. What\n     more is wanted?\n\n[Footnote 72: Vol. i. p. 89, vol. ii. p. 167.]\n\n[Footnote 73: These 'four stages' are described in the same manner in\nthe canonical books of Ceylon and Nepal, and may therefore safely be\nascribed to that original form of Buddhism from which the Southern and\nthe Northern schools branched off at a later period. See Burnouf,\n'Lotus de la bonne Loi,' p. 800.]\n\n[Footnote 74: See Burnouf, 'Lotus de la bonne Loi,' p. 814.]\n\nIf this is not the absolute nothing, what is Nirva_n_a?'\n\nSuch religion, we should say, was made for a mad-house. But Buddhism\nwas an advance, if compared with Brahmanism; it has stood its ground\nfor centuries, and if truth could be decided by majorities, the show\nof hands, even at the present day, would be in favour of Buddha. The\nmetaphysics of Buddhism, like the metaphysics of most religions, not\nexcluding our own Gnosticism and Mysticism, were beyond the reach of\nall except a few hardened philosophers or ecstatic dreamers. Human\nnature could not be changed. Out of the very nothing it made a new\nparadise; and he who had left no place in the whole universe for a\nDivine Being, was deified himself by the multitudes who wanted a\nperson whom they could worship, a king whose help they might invoke, a\nfriend before whom they could pour out their most secret griefs. And\nthere remained the code of a pure morality, proclaimed by Buddha.\nThere remained the spirit of charity, kindness, and universal pity\nwith which he had inspired his disciples.[75] There remained the\nsimplicity of the ceremonial he had taught, the equality of all men\nwhich he had declared, the religious toleration which he had preached\nfrom the beginning. There remained much, therefore, to account for the\nrapid strides which his doctrine made from the mountain peaks of\nCeylon to the Tundras of the Samoyedes, and we shall see in the simple\nstory of the life of Hiouen-thsang that Buddhism, with all its\ndefects, has had its heroes, its martyrs, and its saints.\n\n[Footnote 75: See the 'Dhammapadam,' a Pali work on Buddhist ethics,\nlately edited by V. Fausboell, a distinguished pupil of Professor\nWestergaard, at Copenhagen. The Rev. Spence Hardy ('Eastern\nMonachism,' p. 169) writes: 'A collection might be made from the\nprecepts of this work, that in the purity of its ethics could scarcely\nbe equalled from any other heathen author.' Mr. Knighton, when\nspeaking of the same work in his 'History of Ceylon' (p. 77), remarks:\n'In it we have exemplified a code of morality, and a list of precepts,\nwhich, for pureness, excellence, and wisdom, is only second to that of\nthe Divine Lawgiver himself.']\n\nHiouen-thsang, born in China more than a thousand years after the\ndeath of Buddha, was a believer in Buddhism. He dedicated his whole\nlife to the study of that religion; travelling from his native country\nto India, visiting every place mentioned in Buddhist history or\ntradition, acquiring the ancient language in which the canonical books\nof the Buddhists were written, studying commentaries, discussing\npoints of difficulty, and defending the orthodox faith at public\ncouncils against disbelievers and schismatics. Buddhism had grown and\nchanged since the death of its founder, but it had lost nothing of its\nvitality. At a very early period a proselytizing spirit awoke among\nthe disciples of the Indian reformer, an element entirely new in the\nhistory of ancient religions. No Jew, no Greek, no Roman, no Brahman\never thought of converting people to his own national form of worship.\nReligion was looked upon as private or national property. It was to be\nguarded against strangers. The most sacred names of the gods, the\nprayers by which their favour could be gained, were kept secret. No\nreligion, however, was more exclusive than that of the Brahmans. A\nBrahman was born, nay, twice-born. He could not be made. Not even the\nlowest caste, that of the _S_udras, would open its ranks to a\nstranger. Here lay the secret of Buddha's success. He addressed\nhimself to castes and outcasts. He promised salvation to all; and he\ncommanded his disciples to preach his doctrine in all places and to\nall men. A sense of duty, extending from the narrow limits of the\nhouse, the village, and the country to the widest circle of mankind, a\nfeeling of sympathy and brotherhood towards all men, the idea, in\nfact, of humanity, were in India first pronounced by Buddha. In the\nthird Buddhist Council, the acts of which have been preserved to us in\nthe 'Mahavansa,'[76] we hear of missionaries being sent to the chief\ncountries beyond India. This Council, we are told, took place 308\nB.C., 235 years after the death of Buddha, in the 17th year of the\nreign of the famous king A_s_oka, whose edicts have been preserved to\nus on rock inscriptions in various parts of India. There are sentences\nin these inscriptions of A_s_oka which might be read with advantage by\nour own missionaries, though they are now more than 2000 years old.\nThus it is written on the rocks of Girnar, Dhauli, and Kapurdigiri--\n\n     'Piyadasi, the king beloved of the gods, desires that the\n     ascetics of all creeds might reside in all places. All these\n     ascetics profess alike the command which people should\n     exercise over themselves, and the purity of the soul. But\n     people have different opinions, and different inclinations.'\n\nAnd again:\n\n     'A man ought to honour his own faith only; but he should\n     never abuse the faith of others. It is thus that he will do\n     no harm to anybody. There are even circumstances where the\n     religion of others ought to be honoured. And in acting\n     thus, a man fortifies his own faith, and assists the faith\n     of others. He who acts otherwise, diminishes his own faith,\n     and hurts the faith of others.'\n\n[Footnote 76: 'Mahavanso,' ed. G. Turnour, Ceylon, 1837, p. 71.]\n\nThose who have no time to read the voluminous works of the late E.\nBurnouf on Buddhism, his 'Introduction a l'Histoire du Buddhisme,' and\nhis translation of 'Le Lotus de la bonne Loi,' will find a very\ninteresting and lucid account of these councils, and edicts, and\nmissions, and the history of Buddhism in general, in a work lately\npublished by Mrs. Speir, 'Life in Ancient India.' Buddhism spread in\nthe south to Ceylon, in the north to Kashmir, the Himalayan countries,\nTibet, and China. One Buddhist missionary is mentioned in the Chinese\nannals as early as 217 B.C.;[77] and about the year 120 B.C. a Chinese\nGeneral, after defeating the barbarous tribes north of the Desert of\nGobi, brought back as a trophy a golden statue, the statue of\nBuddha.[78] It was not, however, till the year 65 A.D. that Buddhism\nwas officially recognised by the Emperor Ming-ti[79] as a third state\nreligion in China. Ever since, it has shared equal honours with the\ndoctrines of Confucius and Lao-tse, in the Celestial Empire, and it is\nbut lately that these three established religions have had to fear the\nencroachments of a new rival in the creed of the Chief of the rebels.\n\n[Footnote 77: See 'Foe Koue Ki,' p. 41, and xxxviii. preface.]\n\n[Footnote 78: See 'Foe Koue Ki,' p. 41.]\n\n[Footnote 79: 'Lalita-Vistara,' ed. Foucaux, p. xvii. n.]\n\nAfter Buddhism had been introduced into China, the first care of its\nteachers was to translate the sacred works from Sanskrit, in which\nthey were originally written, into Chinese. We read of the Emperor\nMing-ti,[80] of the dynasty of Han, sending Tsai-in and other high\nofficials to India, in order to study there the doctrine of Buddha.\nThey engaged the services of two learned Buddhists, Matanga and\nTchou-fa-lan, and some of the most important Buddhist works were\ntranslated by them into Chinese. 'The Life of Buddha,' the\n'Lalita-Vistara,'[81] a Sanskrit work which, on account of its style\nand language, had been referred by Oriental scholars to a much more\nmodern period of Indian literature, can now safely be ascribed to an\nante-Christian era, if, as we are told by Chinese scholars, it was\ntranslated from Sanskrit into Chinese, as one of the canonical books\nof Buddhism, as early as the year 76 A.D. The same work was translated\nalso into Tibetan; and an edition of it--the first Tibetan work\nprinted in Europe--published in Paris by M.E. Foucaux, reflects high\ncredit on that distinguished scholar, and on the Government which\nsupports these studies in the most liberal and enlightened spirit. The\nintellectual intercourse between the Indian peninsula and the northern\ncontinent of Asia remained uninterrupted for many centuries. Missions\nwere sent from China to India, to report on the political and\ngeographical state of the country, but the chief object of interest\nwhich attracted public embassies and private pilgrims across the\nHimalayan mountains was the religion of Buddha. About three hundred\nyears after the public recognition of Buddhism by the Emperor Ming-ti,\nthe great stream of Buddhist pilgrims began to flow from China to\nIndia. The first account which we possess of these pilgrimages refers\nto the travels of Fahian, who visited India towards the end of the\nfourth century. His travels have been translated by Remusat, but M.\nJulien promises a new and more correct translation. After Fahian, we\nhave the travels of Hoei-seng and Song-yun, who were sent to India, in\n518, by command of the Empress, with a view of collecting sacred books\nand relics. Of Hiouen-thsang, who follows next in time, we possess, at\npresent, eight out of twelve books; and there is reason to hope that\nthe last four books of his Journal will soon follow in M. Julien's\ntranslation.[82] After Hiouen-thsang, the chief works of Chinese\npilgrims are the 'Itineraries' of the fifty-six monks, published in\n730, and the travels of Khi-nie, who visited India in 964, at the head\nof three hundred pilgrims. India was for a time the Holy Land of\nChina. There lay the scene of the life and death of the great teacher;\nthere were the monuments commemorating the chief events of his life;\nthere the shrines where his relics might be worshipped; there the\nmonasteries where tradition had preserved his sayings and his doings;\nthere the books where his doctrine might be studied in its original\npurity; there the schools where the tenets of different sects which\nhad sprung up in the course of time might best be acquired.\n\n[Footnote 80: 'Lalita-Vistara,' p. 17.]\n\n[Footnote 81: Two parts of the Sanskrit text have been published in\nthe 'Bibliotheca Indica.']\n\n[Footnote 82: They have since been published.]\n\nSome of the pilgrims and envoys have left us accounts of their\ntravels, and, in the absence of anything like an historical literature\nin India itself, these Chinese works are of the utmost importance for\ngaining an insight into the social, political, and religious history\nof that country from the beginning of our era to the time of the\nMohammedan conquest. The importance of Mohammedan writers, so far as\nthey treat on the history of India during the Middle Ages, was soon\nrecognised, and in a memoir lately published by the most eminent\nArabic scholar of France, M. Reinaud, new and valuable historical\nmaterials have been collected--materials doubly valuable in India,\nwhere no native historian has ever noted down the passing events of\nthe day. But, although the existence of similar documents in Chinese\nwas known, and although men of the highest literary eminence--such as\nHumboldt, Biot, and others--had repeatedly urged the necessity of\nhaving a translation of the early travels of the Chinese Pilgrims, it\nseemed almost as if our curiosity was never to be satisfied. France\nhas been the only country where Chinese scholarship has ever\nflourished, and it was a French scholar, Abel Remusat, who undertook\nat last the translation of one of the Chinese Pilgrims. Remusat died\nbefore his work was published, and his translation of the travels of\nFahian, edited by M. Landresse, remained for a long time without being\nfollowed up by any other. Nor did the work of that eminent scholar\nanswer all expectations. Most of the proper names, the names of\ncountries, towns, mountains, and rivers, the titles of books, and the\nwhole Buddhistic phraseology, were so disguised in their Chinese dress\nthat it was frequently impossible to discover their original form.\n\nThe Chinese alphabet was never intended to represent the sound of\nwords. It was in its origin a hieroglyphic system, each word having\nits own graphic representative. Nor would it have been possible to\nwrite Chinese in any other way. Chinese is a monosyllabic language. No\nword is allowed more than one consonant and one vowel,--the vowels\nincluding diphthongs and nasal vowels. Hence the possible number of\nwords is extremely small, and the number of significative sounds in\nthe Chinese language is said to be no more than 450. No language,\nhowever, could be satisfied with so small a vocabulary, and in\nChinese, as in other monosyllabic dialects, each word, as it was\npronounced with various accents and intonations, was made to convey a\nlarge number of meanings; so that the total number of words, or rather\nof ideas, expressed in Chinese, is said to amount to 43,496. Hence a\ngraphic representation of the mere sound of words would have been\nperfectly useless, and it was absolutely necessary to resort to\nhieroglyphical writing, enlarged by the introduction of determinative\nsigns. Nearly the whole immense dictionary of Chinese--at least\ntwenty-nine thirtieths--consists of combined signs, one part\nindicating the general sound, the other determining its special\nmeaning. With such a system of writing it was possible to represent\nChinese, but impossible to convey either the sound or the meaning of\nany other language. Besides, some of the most common sounds--such as\nr, b, d, and the short a--are unknown in Chinese.\n\nHow, then, were the translators to render Sanskrit names in Chinese?\nThe most rational plan would have been to select as many Chinese signs\nas there were Sanskrit letters, and to express one and the same letter\nin Sanskrit always by one and the same sign in Chinese; or, if the\nconception of a consonant without a vowel, and of a vowel without a\nconsonant, was too much for a Chinese understanding, to express at\nleast the same syllabic sound in Sanskrit, by one and the same\nsyllabic sign in Chinese. A similar system is adopted at the present\nday, when the Chinese find themselves under the necessity of writing\nthe names of Lord Palmerston or Sir John Bowring; but, instead of\nadopting any definite system of transcribing, each translator seems to\nhave chosen his own signs for rendering the sounds of Sanskrit words,\nand to have chosen them at random. The result is that every Sanskrit\nword as transcribed by the Chinese Buddhists is a riddle which no\ningenuity is able to solve. Who could have guessed that 'Fo-to,' or\nmore frequently 'Fo,' was meant for Buddha? 'Ko-lo-keou-lo' for\nRahula, the son of Buddha? 'Po-lo-nai' for Benares? 'Heng-ho' for\nGanges? 'Niepan' for Nirv_ana_? 'Chamen' for _S_rama_n_a? 'Feito' for\nVeda? 'Tcha-li' for Kshattriya? 'Siu-to-lo' for _S_udra? 'Fan' or\n'Fan-lon-mo' for Brahma? Sometimes, it is true, the Chinese\nendeavoured to give, besides the sounds, a translation of the meaning\nof the Sanskrit words. But the translation of proper names is always\nvery precarious, and it required an intimate knowledge of Sanskrit and\nBuddhist literature to recognise from these awkward translations the\nexact form of the proper names for which they were intended. If, in a\nChinese translation of 'Thukydides,' we read of a person called\n'Leader of the people,' we might guess his name to have been\nDemagogos, or Laoegos, as well as Agesilaos. And when the name of the\ntown of _S_ravasti was written Che-wei, which means in Chinese 'where\none hears,' it required no ordinary power of combination to find that\nthe name of _S_ravasti was derived from a Sanskrit noun, _s_ravas\n(Greek [Greek: kleos], Lat. cluo), which means 'hearing' or 'fame,'\nand that the etymological meaning of the name of _S_ravasti was\nintended by the Chinese 'Che-wei.' Besides these names of places and\nrivers, of kings and saints, there was the whole strange phraseology\nof Buddhism, of which no dictionary gives any satisfactory\nexplanation. How was even the best Chinese scholar to know that the\nwords which usually mean 'dark shadow' must be taken in the technical\nsense of Nirva_n_a, or becoming absorbed in the Absolute, that\n'return-purity' had the same sense, and that a third synonymous\nexpression was to be recognised in a phrase which, in ordinary\nChinese, would have the sense of 'transport-figure-crossing-age?' A\nmonastery is called 'origin-door,' instead of 'black-door.' The voice\nof Buddha is called 'the voice of the dragon;' and his doctrine goes\nby the name of 'the door of expedients.'\n\nTedious as these details may seem, it was almost a duty to state them,\nin order to give an idea of the difficulties which M. Stanislas Julien\nhad to grapple with. Oriental scholars labour under great\ndisadvantages. Few people take an interest in their works, or, if they\ndo, they simply accept the results, but they are unable to appreciate\nthe difficulty with which these results were obtained. Many persons\nwho have read the translation of the cuneiform inscriptions are glad,\nno doubt, to have the authentic and contemporaneous records of Darius\nand Xerxes. But if they followed the process by which scholars such as\nGrotefend, Burnouf, Lassen, and Rawlinson arrived at their results,\nthey would see that the discovery of the alphabet, the language, the\ngrammar, and the meaning of the inscriptions of the Achaemenian dynasty\ndeserves to be classed with the discoveries of a Kepler, a Newton, or\na Faraday. In a similar manner, the mere translation of a Chinese work\ninto French seems a very ordinary performance; but M. Stanislas\nJulien, who has long been acknowledged as the first Chinese scholar in\nEurope, had to spend twenty years of incessant labour in order to\nprepare himself for the task of translating the 'Travels of\nHiouen-thsang.' He had to learn Sanskrit, no very easy language; he\nhad to study the Buddhist literature written in Sanskrit, Pali,\nTibetan, Mongolian, and Chinese. He had to make vast indices of every\nproper name connected with Buddhism. Thus only could he shape his own\ntools, and accomplish what at last he did accomplish. Most persons\nwill remember the interest with which the travels of M.M. Huc and\nGabet were read a few years ago, though these two adventurous\nmissionaries were obliged to renounce their original intention of\nentering India by way of China and Tibet, and were not allowed to\nproceed beyond the famous capital of Lhassa. If, then, it be\nconsidered that there was a traveller who had made a similar journey\ntwelve hundred years earlier--who had succeeded in crossing the\ndeserts and mountain passes which separate China from India--who had\nvisited the principal cities of the Indian Peninsula, at a time of\nwhich we have no information, from native or foreign sources, as to\nthe state of that country--who had learned Sanskrit, and made a large\ncollection of Buddhist works--who had carried on public disputations\nwith the most eminent philosophers and theologians of the day--who had\ntranslated the most important works on Buddhism from Sanskrit into\nChinese, and left an account of his travels, which still existed in\nthe libraries of China--nay, which had been actually printed and\npublished--we may well imagine the impatience with which all scholars\ninterested in the ancient history of India, and in the subject of\nBuddhism, looked forward to the publication of so important a work.\nHiouen-thsang's name had first been mentioned in Europe by Abel\nRemusat and Klaproth. They had discovered some fragments of his\ntravels in a Chinese work on foreign countries and foreign nations.\nRemusat wrote to China to procure, if possible, a complete copy of\nHiouen-thsang's works. He was informed by Morrison that they were out\nof print. Still, the few specimens which he had given at the end of\nhis translation of the 'Foe Koue Ki' had whetted the appetite of\nOriental scholars. M. Stanislas Julien succeeded in procuring a copy\nof Hiouen-thsang in 1838; and after nearly twenty years spent in\npreparing a translation of the Chinese traveller, his version is now\nbefore us. If there are but few who know the difficulty of a work like\nthat of M. Stanislas Julien, it becomes their duty to speak out,\nthough, after all, perhaps the most intelligible eulogium would be,\nthat in a branch of study where there are no monopolies and no\npatents, M. Stanislas Julien is acknowledged to be the only man in\nEurope who could produce the article which he has produced in the work\nbefore us.\n\nWe shall devote the rest of our space to a short account of the life\nand travels of Hiouen-thsang. Hiouen-thsang was born in a provincial\ntown of China, at a time when the empire was in a chronic state of\nrevolution. His father had left the public service, and had given most\nof his time to the education of his four children. Two of them\ndistinguished themselves at a very early age--one of them was\nHiouen-thsang, the future traveller and theologian. The boy was sent\nto school at a Buddhist monastery, and, after receiving there the\nnecessary instruction, partly from his elder brother, he was himself\nadmitted as a monk at the early age of thirteen. During the next seven\nyears, the young monk travelled about with his brother from place to\nplace, in order to follow the lectures of some of the most\ndistinguished professors. The horrors of war frequently broke in upon\nhis quiet studies, and forced him to seek refuge in the more distant\nprovinces of the empire. At the age of twenty he took priest's orders,\nand had then already become famous by his vast knowledge. He had\nstudied the chief canonical books of the Buddhist faith, the records\nof Buddha's life and teaching, the system of ethics and metaphysics;\nand he was versed in the works of Confucius and Lao-tse. But still his\nown mind was agitated by doubts. Six years he continued his studies in\nthe chief places of learning in China, and where he came to learn he\nwas frequently asked to teach. At last, when he saw that none, even\nthe most eminent theologians, were able to give him the information he\nwanted, he formed his resolve of travelling to India. The works of\nearlier pilgrims, such as Fahian and others, were known to him. He\nknew that in India he should find the originals of the works which in\ntheir Chinese translation left so many things doubtful in his mind;\nand though he knew from the same sources the dangers of his journey,\nyet 'the glory,' as he says, 'of recovering the Law, which was to be a\nguide to all men and the means of their salvation, seemed to him\nworthy of imitation.' In common with several other priests, he\naddressed a memorial to the Emperor to ask leave for their journey.\nLeave was refused, and the courage of his companions failed. Not that\nof Hiouen-thsang. His own mother had told him that, soon before she\ngave birth to him, she had seen her child travelling to the Far West\nin search of the Law. He was himself haunted by similar visions, and\nhaving long surrendered worldly desires, he resolved to brave all\ndangers, and to risk his life for the only object for which he thought\nit worth while to live. He proceeded to the Yellow River, the\nHoang-ho, and to the place where the caravans bound for India used to\nmeet, and, though the Governor had sent strict orders not to allow any\none to cross the frontier, the young priest, with the assistance of\nhis co-religionists, succeeded in escaping the vigilance of the\nChinese 'douaniers.' Spies were sent after him. But so frank was his\navowal, and so firm his resolution, which he expressed in the presence\nof the authorities, that the Governor himself tore his hue and cry to\npieces, and allowed him to proceed. Hitherto he had been accompanied\nby two friends. They now left him, and Hiouen-thsang found himself\nalone, without a friend and without a guide. He sought for strength in\nfervent prayer. The next morning a person presented himself, offering\nhis services as a guide. This guide conducted him safely for some\ndistance, but left him when they approached the desert. There were\nstill five watch-towers to be passed, and there was nothing to\nindicate the road through the desert, except the hoof-marks of horses,\nand skeletons. The traveller followed this melancholy track, and,\nthough misled by the 'mirage' of the desert, he reached the first\ntower. Here the arrows of the watchmen would have put an end to his\nexistence and his cherished expedition. But the officer in command,\nhimself a zealous Buddhist, allowed the courageous pilgrim to proceed,\nand gave him letters of recommendation to the officers of the next\ntowers. The last tower, however, was guarded by men inaccessible to\nbribes, and deaf to reasoning. In order to escape their notice,\nHiouen-thsang had to make a long detour. He passed through another\ndesert, and lost his way. The bag in which he carried his water burst,\nand then even the courage of Hiouen-thsang failed. He began to retrace\nhis steps. But suddenly he stopped. 'I took an oath,' he said, 'never\nto make a step backward till I had reached India. Why, then, have I\ncome here? It is better I should die proceeding to the West than\nreturn to the East and live.' Four nights and five days he travelled\nthrough the desert without a drop of water. He had nothing to refresh\nhimself except his prayers--and what were they? Texts from a work\nwhich taught that there was no God, no Creator, no creation,--nothing\nbut mind, minding itself. It is incredible in how exhausted an\natmosphere the divine spark within us will glimmer on, and even warm\nthe dark chambers of the human heart. Comforted by his prayers,\nHiouen-thsang proceeded, and arrived after some time at a large lake.\nHe was in the country of the Oigour Tatars. They received him well,\nnay, too well. One of the Tatar Khans, himself a Buddhist, sent for\nthe Buddhist pilgrim, and insisted on his staying with him to instruct\nhis people. Remonstrances proved of no avail. But Hiouen-thsang was\nnot to be conquered. 'I know,' he said, 'that the king, in spite of\nhis power, has no power over my mind and my will;' and he refused all\nnourishment, in order to put an end to his life. [Greek: Thanoumai kai\neleutheresomai.] Three days he persevered, and at last the Khan,\nafraid of the consequences, was obliged to yield to the poor monk. He\nmade him promise to visit him on his return to China, and then to stay\nthree years with him. At last, after a delay of one month, during\nwhich the Khan and his Court came daily to hear the lessons of their\npious guest, the traveller continued his journey with a numerous\nescort, and with letters of introduction from the Khan to twenty-four\nPrinces whose territories the little caravan had to pass. Their way\nlay through what is now called Dsungary, across the Musur-dabaghan\nmountains, the northern portion of the Belur-tag, the Yaxartes valley,\nBactria, and Kabulistan. We cannot follow them through all the places\nthey passed, though the accounts which he gives of their adventures\nare most interesting, and the description of the people most\nimportant. Here is a description of the Musur-dabaghan mountains:\n\n     'The top of the mountain rises to the sky. Since the\n     beginning of the world the snow has been accumulating, and\n     is now transformed into vast masses of ice, which never\n     melt, either in spring or summer. Hard and brilliant sheets\n     of snow are spread out till they are lost in the infinite,\n     and mingle with the clouds. If one looks at them, the eyes\n     are dazzled by the splendour. Frozen peaks hang down over\n     both sides of the road, some hundred feet high, and twenty\n     feet or thirty feet thick. It is not without difficulty and\n     danger that the traveller can clear them or climb over them.\n     Besides, there are squalls of wind, and tornadoes of snow\n     which attack the pilgrims. Even with double shoes, and in\n     thick furs, one cannot help trembling and shivering.'\n\nDuring the seven days that Hiouen-thsang crossed these Alpine passes\nhe lost fourteen of his companions.\n\nWhat is most important, however, in this early portion of the Chinese\ntraveller is the account which he gives of the high degree of\ncivilisation among the tribes of Central Asia. We had gradually\naccustomed ourselves to believe in an early civilisation of Egypt, of\nBabylon, of China, of India; but now that we find the hordes of Tatary\npossessing in the seventh century the chief arts and institutions of\nan advanced society, we shall soon have to drop the name of barbarians\naltogether. The theory of M. Oppert, who ascribes the original\ninvention of the cuneiform letters and a civilisation anterior to that\nof Babylon and Nineveh to a Turanian or Scythian race, will lose much\nof its apparent improbability; for no new wave of civilisation had\nreached these countries between the cuneiform period of their\nliterature and history and the time of Hiouen-thsang's visit. In the\nkingdom of Okini, on the western frontier of China, Hiouen-thsang\nfound an active commerce, gold, silver, and copper coinage;\nmonasteries, where the chief works of Buddhism were studied, and an\nalphabet, derived from Sanskrit. As he travelled on he met with mines,\nwith agriculture, including pears, plums, peaches, almonds, grapes,\npomegranates, rice, and wheat. The inhabitants were dressed in silk\nand woollen materials. There were musicians in the chief cities who\nplayed on the flute and the guitar. Buddhism was the prevailing\nreligion, but there were traces of an earlier worship, the Bactrian\nfire-worship. The country was everywhere studded with halls,\nmonasteries, monuments, and statues. Samarkand formed at that early\ntime a kind of Athens, and its manners were copied by all the tribes\nin the neighbourhood. Balkh, the old capital of Bactria, was still an\nimportant place on the Oxus, well fortified, and full of sacred\nbuildings. And the details which our traveller gives of the exact\ncircumference of the cities, the number of their inhabitants, the\nproducts of the soil, the articles of trade, can leave no doubt in our\nminds that he relates what he had seen and heard himself. A new page\nin the history of the world is here opened, and new ruins pointed out,\nwhich would reward the pickaxe of a Layard.\n\nBut we must not linger. Our traveller, as we said, had entered India\nby way of Kabul. Shortly before he arrived at Pou-lou-cha-pou-lo, i.\ne. the Sanskrit Purushapura, the modern Peshawer, Hiouen-thsang heard\nof an extraordinary cave, where Buddha had formerly converted a\ndragon, and had promised his new pupil to leave him his shadow, in\norder that, whenever the evil passions of his dragon-nature should\nrevive, the aspect of his master's shadowy features might remind him\nof his former vows. This promise was fulfilled, and the dragon-cave\nbecame a famous place of pilgrimage. Our traveller was told that the\nroads leading to the cave were extremely dangerous, and infested by\nrobbers--that for three years none of the pilgrims had ever returned\nfrom the cave. But he replied, 'It would be difficult during a hundred\nthousand Kalpas to meet one single time with the true shadow of\nBuddha; how could I, having come so near, pass on without going to\nadore it?' He left his companions behind, and after asking in vain\nfor a guide, he met at last with a boy who showed him to a farm\nbelonging to a convent. Here he found an old man who undertook to act\nas his guide. They had hardly proceeded a few miles when they were\nattacked by five robbers. The monk took off his cap and displayed his\necclesiastical robes. 'Master,' said one of the robbers, 'where are\nyou going?' Hiouen-thsang replied, 'I desire to adore the shadow of\nBuddha.' 'Master,' said the robber, 'have you not heard that these\nroads are full of bandits?' 'Robbers are men,' Hiouen-thsang\nexclaimed, 'and at present, when I am going to adore the shadow of\nBuddha, even though the roads were full of wild beasts, I should walk\non without fear. Surely, then, I ought not to fear you, as you are men\nwhose heart is possessed of pity.' The robbers were moved by these\nwords, and opened their hearts to the true faith. After this little\nincident, Hiouen-thsang proceeded with his guide. He passed a stream\nrushing down between two precipitous walls of rock. In the rock itself\nthere was a door which opened. All was dark. But Hiouen-thsang\nentered, advanced towards the east, then moved fifty steps backwards,\nand began his devotions. He made one hundred salutations, but he saw\nnothing. He reproached himself bitterly with his former sins, he\ncried, and abandoned himself to utter despair, because the shadow of\nBuddha would not appear before him. At last, after many prayers and\ninvocations, he saw on the eastern wall a dim light, of the size of a\nsaucepan, such as the Buddhist monks carry in their hands. But it\ndisappeared. He continued praying full of joy and pain, and again he\nsaw a light, which vanished like lightning. Then he vowed, full of\ndevotion and love, that he would never leave the place till he had\nseen the shadow of the 'Venerable of the age.' After two hundred\nprayers, the cave was suddenly bathed in light, and the shadow of\nBuddha, of a brilliant white colour, rose majestically on the wall, as\nwhen the clouds suddenly open and, all at once, display the marvellous\nimage of the 'Mountain of Light.' A dazzling splendour lighted up the\nfeatures of the divine countenance. Hiouen-thsang was lost in\ncontemplation and wonder, and would not turn his eyes away from the\nsublime and incomparable object.... After he awoke from his trance, he\ncalled in six men, and commanded them to light a fire in the cave, in\norder to burn incense; but, as the approach of the light made the\nshadow of Buddha disappear, the fire was extinguished. Then five of\nthe men saw the shadow, but the sixth saw nothing. The old man who had\nacted as guide was astounded when Hiouen-thsang told him the vision.\n'Master,' he said, 'without the sincerity of your faith, and the\nenergy of your vows, you could not have seen such a miracle.'\n\nThis is the account given by Hiouen-thsang's biographers. But we must\nsay, to the credit of Hiouen-thsang himself, that in the 'Si-yu-ki,'\nwhich contains his own diary, the story is told in a different way.\nThe cave is described with almost the same words. But afterwards, the\nwriter continues: 'Formerly, the shadow of Buddha was seen in the\ncave, bright, like his natural appearance, and with all the marks of\nhis divine beauty. One might have said, it was Buddha himself. For\nsome centuries, however, it can no longer be seen completely. Though\none does see something, it is only a feeble and doubtful resemblance.\nIf a man prays with sincere faith, and if he has received from above\na hidden impression, he sees the shadow clearly, but he cannot enjoy\nthe sight for any length of time.'\n\nFrom Peshawer, the scene of this extraordinary miracle, Hiouen-thsang\nproceeded to Kashmir, visited the chief towns of Central India, and\narrived at last in Magadha, the Holy Land of the Buddhists. Here he\nremained five years, devoting all his time to the study of Sanskrit\nand Buddhist literature, and inspecting every place hallowed by the\nrecollections of the past. He then passed through Bengal, and\nproceeded to the south, with a view of visiting Ceylon, the chief seat\nof Buddhism. Baffled in that wish, he crossed the peninsula from east\nto west, ascended the Malabar coast, reached the Indus, and, after\nnumerous excursions to the chief places of North-Western India,\nreturned to Magadha, to spend there, with his old friends, some of the\nhappiest years of his life. The route of his journeyings is laid down\nin a map drawn with exquisite skill by M. Vivien de Saint-Martin. At\nlast he was obliged to return to China, and, passing through the\nPenjab, Kabulistan, and Bactria, he reached the Oxus, followed its\ncourse nearly to its sources on the plateau of Pamir, and, after\nstaying some time in the three chief towns of Turkistan, Khasgar,\nYarkand, and Khoten, he found himself again, after sixteen years of\ntravels, dangers, and studies, in his own native country. His fame had\nspread far and wide, and the poor pilgrim, who had once been hunted by\nimperial spies and armed policemen, was now received with public\nhonours by the Emperor himself. His entry into the capital was like a\ntriumph. The streets were covered with carpets, flowers were\nscattered, and banners flying. Soldiers were drawn up, the\nmagistrates went out to meet him, and all the monks of the\nneighbourhood marched along in solemn procession. The trophies that\nadorned this triumph, carried by a large number of horses, were of a\npeculiar kind. First, 150 grains of the dust of Buddha; secondly, a\ngolden statue of the great Teacher; thirdly, a similar statue of\nsandal-wood; fourthly, a statue of sandal-wood, representing Buddha as\ndescending from heaven; fifthly, a statue of silver; sixthly, a golden\nstatue of Buddha conquering the dragons; seventhly, a statue of\nsandal-wood, representing Buddha as a preacher; lastly, a collection\nof 657 works in 520 volumes. The Emperor received the traveller in the\nPhoenix Palace, and, full of admiration for his talents and wisdom,\ninvited him to accept a high office in the Government. This\nHiouen-thsang declined. 'The soul of the administration,' he said, 'is\nstill the doctrine of Confucius;' and he would dedicate the rest of\nhis life to the Law of Buddha. The Emperor thereupon asked him to\nwrite an account of his travels, and assigned him a monastery where he\nmight employ his leisure in translating the works he had brought back\nfrom India. His travels were soon written and published, but the\ntranslation of the Sanskrit MSS. occupied he whole rest of his life.\nIt is said that the number of works translated by him, with the\nassistance of a large staff of monks, amounted to 740, in 1,335\nvolumes. Frequently he might be seen meditating on a difficult\npassage, when suddenly it seemed as if a higher spirit had enlightened\nhis mind. His soul was cheered, as when a man walking in darkness sees\nall at once the sun piercing the clouds and shining in its full\nbrightness; and, unwilling to trust to his own understanding, he used\nto attribute his knowledge to a secret inspiration of Buddha and the\nBodhisattvas. When he found that the hour of death approached, he had\nall his property divided among the poor. He invited his friends to\ncome and see him, and to take a cheerful leave of that impure body of\nHiouen-thsang. 'I desire,' he said, 'that whatever merits I may have\ngained by good works may fall upon other people. May I be born again\nwith them in the heaven of the blessed, be admitted to the family of\nMi-le, and serve the Buddha of the future, who is full of kindness and\naffection. When I descend again upon earth to pass through other forms\nof existence, I desire at every new birth to fulfil my duties towards\nBuddha, and arrive at the last at the highest and most perfect\nintelligence. He died in the year 664--about the same time that\nMohammedanism was pursuing its bloody conquests in the East, and\nChristianity began to shed its pure light over the dark forests of\nGermany.\n\nIt is impossible to do justice to the character of so extraordinary a\nman as Hiouen-thsang in so short a sketch as we have been able to\ngive. If we knew only his own account of his life and travels--the\nvolume which has just been published at Paris--we should be ignorant\nof the motives which guided him and of the sufferings which he\nunderwent. Happily, two of his friends and pupils had left an account\nof their teacher, and M. Stanislas Julien has acted wisely in\nbeginning his collection of the Buddhist Pilgrims with the translation\nof that biography. There we learn something of the man himself and of\nthat silent enthusiasm which supported him in his arduous work. There\nwe see him braving the dangers of the desert, scrambling along\nglaciers, crossing over torrents, and quietly submitting to the\nbrutal violence of Indian Thugs. There we see him rejecting the\ntempting invitations of Khans, Kings, and Emperors, and quietly\npursuing among strangers, within the bleak walls of the cell of a\nBuddhist college, the study of a foreign language, the key to the\nsacred literature of his faith. There we see him rising to eminence,\nacknowledged as an equal by his former teachers, as a superior by the\nmost distinguished scholars of India; the champion of the orthodox\nfaith, an arbiter at councils, the favourite of Indian kings. In his\nown work there is hardly a word about all this. We do not wish to\ndisguise his weaknesses, such as they appear in the same biography. He\nwas a credulous man, easily imposed upon by crafty priests, still more\neasily carried away by his own superstitions; but he deserved to have\nlived in better times, and we almost grudge so high and noble a\ncharacter to a country not our own, and to a religion unworthy of such\na man. Of selfishness we find no trace in him. His whole life belonged\nto the faith in which he was born, and the objects of his labour was\nnot so much to perfect himself as to benefit others. He was an honest\nman. And strange, and stiff, and absurd, and outlandish as his outward\nappearance may seem, there is something in the face of that poor\nChinese monk, with his yellow skin and his small oblique eyes, that\nappeals to our sympathy--something in his life, and the work of his\nlife, that places him by right among the heroes of Greece, the martyrs\nof Rome, the knights of the crusades, the explorers of the Arctic\nregions--something that makes us feel it a duty to inscribe his name\non the roll of the 'forgotten worthies' of the human race. There is a\nhigher consanguinity than that of the blood which runs through our\nveins--that of the blood which makes our hearts beat with the same\nindignation and the same joy. And there is a higher nationality than\nthat of being governed by the same imperial dynasty--that of our\ncommon allegiance to the Father and Ruler of all mankind.\n\nIt is but right to state that we owe the publication, at least of the\nsecond volume of M. Julien's work, to the liberality of the Court of\nDirectors of the East-India Company. We have had several opportunities\nof pointing out the creditable manner in which that body has\npatronized literary and scientific works connected with the East, and\nwe congratulate the Chairman, Colonel Sykes, and the President of the\nBoard of Control, Mr. Vernon Smith, on the excellent choice they have\nmade in this instance. Nothing can be more satisfactory than that\nnearly the whole edition of a work which would have remained\nunpublished without their liberal assistance, has been sold in little\nmore than a month.\n\n_April, 1857._\n\n\n\n\nXI.\n\nTHE MEANING OF NIRVANA.\n\n\n_To the Editor of_ THE TIMES.\n\n\nSir,--Mr. Francis Barham, of Bath, has protested in a letter, printed\nin 'The Times' of the 24th of April, against my interpretations of\nNirva_n_a, or the summum bonum of the Buddhists. He maintains that the\nNirva_n_a in which the Buddhists believe, and which they represent as\nthe highest goal of their religion and philosophy, means union and\ncommunion with God, or absorption of the individual soul by the divine\nessence, and not, as I tried to show in my articles on the 'Buddhist\nPilgrims,' utter annihilation.\n\nI must not take up much more of your space with so abstruse a subject\nas Buddhist metaphysics; but at the same time I cannot allow Mr.\nBarham's protest to pass unnoticed. The authorities which he brings\nforward against my account of Buddhism, and particularly against my\ninterpretation of Nirva_n_a, seem formidable enough. There is Neander,\nthe great church historian, Creuzer, the famous scholar, and Hue, the\nwell-known traveller and missionary,--all interpreting, as Mr. Barham\nsays, the Nirva_n_a of the Buddhists in the sense of an apotheosis of\nthe human soul, as it was taught in the Vedanta philosophy of the\nBrahmans, the Sufiism of the Persians, and the Christian mysticism of\nEckhart and Tauler, and not in the sense of absolute annihilation.\n\nNow, with regard to Neander and Creuzer, I must observe that their\nworks were written before the canonical books of the Buddhists,\ncomposed in Sanskrit, had been discovered, or at least before they had\nbeen sent to Europe, and been analysed by European scholars. Besides,\nneither Neander nor Creuzer was an Oriental scholar, and their\nknowledge of the subject could only be second-hand. It was in 1824\nthat Mr. Brian Houghton Hodgson, then resident at the Court of Nepal,\ngave the first intimation of the existence of a large religious\nliterature written in Sanskrit, and preserved by the Buddhists of\nNepal as the canonical books of their faith. It was in 1830 and 1835\nthat the same eminent scholar and naturalist presented the first set\nof these books to the Royal Asiatic Society in London. In 1837 he made\na similar gift to the Societe Asiatique of Paris, and some of the most\nimportant works were transmitted by him to the Bodleian Library at\nOxford. It was in 1844 that the late Eugene Burnouf published, after a\ncareful study of these documents, his classical work, 'Introduction a\nl'Histoire du Buddhisme Indien,' and it is from this book that our\nknowledge of Buddhism may be said to date. Several works have since\nbeen published, which have added considerably to the stock of\nauthentic information on the doctrine of the great Indian reformer.\nThere is Burnouf's translation of 'Le Lotus de la bonne Loi,'\npublished after the death of that lamented scholar, together with\nnumerous essays, in 1852. There are two interesting works by the Rev.\nSpence Hardy--'Eastern Monachism,' London, 1850, and 'A Manual of\nBuddhism,' London, 1853; and there are the publications of M.\nStanislas Julien, E. Foucaux, the Honourable George Turnour, Professor\nH. H. Wilson, and others, alluded to in my article on the 'Buddhist\nPilgrims.' It is from these works alone that we can derive correct and\nauthentic information on Buddhism, and not from Neander's 'History of\nthe Christian Church' or from Creuzer's 'Symbolik.'\n\nIf any one will consult these works, he will find that the discussions\non the true meaning of Nirva_n_a are not of modern date, and that, at\na very early period, different philosophical schools among the\nBuddhists of India, and different teachers who spread the doctrine of\nBuddhism abroad, propounded every conceivable opinion as to the\northodox explanation of this term. Even in one and the same school we\nfind different parties maintaining different views on the meaning of\nNirva_n_a. There is the school of the Svabhavikas, which still exists\nin Nepal. The Svabhavikas maintain that nothing exists but nature, or\nrather substance, and that this substance exists by itself\n(svabhavat), without a Creator or a Ruler. It exists, however, under\ntwo forms: in the state of Prav_r_itti, as active, or in the state of\nNirv_r_itti, as passive. Human beings, who, like everything else,\nexist svabhavat, 'by themselves,' are supposed to be capable of\narriving at Nirv_r_itti, or passiveness, which is nearly synonymous\nwith Nirva_n_a. But here the Svabhavikas branch off into two sects.\nSome believe that Nirv_r_itti is repose, others that it is\nannihilation; and the former add, 'were it even annihilation\n(sunyata), it would still be good, man being otherwise doomed to an\neternal migration through all the forms of nature; the more desirable\nof which are little to be wished for; and the less so, at any price to\nbe shunned.'[83]\n\nWhat was the original meaning of Nirva_n_a may perhaps best be seen\nfrom the etymology of this technical term. Every Sanskrit scholar\nknows that Nirva_n_a means originally the blowing out, the extinction\nof light, and not absorption. The human soul, when it arrives at its\nperfection, is blown out,[84] if we use the phraseology of the\nBuddhists, like a lamp; it is not absorbed, as the Brahmans say, like\na drop in the ocean. Neither in the system of Buddhist philosophy, nor\nin the philosophy from which Buddha is supposed to have borrowed, was\nthere any place left for a Divine Being by which the human soul could\nbe absorbed. Sankhya philosophy, in its original form, claims the name\nof an-i_s_vara, 'lordless' or 'atheistic' as its distinctive title.\nIts final object is not absorption in God, whether personal or\nimpersonal, but Moksha, deliverance of the soul from all pain and\nillusion, and recovery by the soul of its true nature. It is doubtful\nwhether the term Nirva_n_a was coined by Buddha. It occurs in the\nliterature of the Brahmans as a synonyme of Moksha, deliverance;\nNirv_r_itti, cessation; Apavarga, release; Ni_hs_reyas, summum bonum.\nIt is used in this sense in the Mahabharata, and it is explained in\nthe Amara-Kosha as having the meaning of 'blowing out, applied to a\nfire and to a sage.'[85] Unless, however, we succeed in tracing this\nterm in works anterior to Buddha, we may suppose that it was invented\nby him in order to express that meaning of the summum bonum which he\nwas the first to preach, and which some of his disciples explained in\nthe sense of absolute annihilation.\n\n[Footnote 83: See Burnouf, 'Introduction,' p. 441; Hodgson, 'Asiatic\nResearches,' vol. xvi.]\n\n[Footnote 84: 'Calm,' 'without wind,' as Nirva_n_a is sometimes\nexplained, is expressed in Sanskrit by Nirvata. See Amara-Kosha, sub\nvoce.]\n\n[Footnote 85: Different views of the Nirva_n_a, as conceived by the\nTirthakas or the Brahmans, may be seen in an extract from the\nLankavatara, translated by Burnouf, p. 514.]\n\nThe earliest authority to which we can go back, if we want to know the\noriginal character of Buddhism, is the Buddhist Canon, as settled\nafter the death of Buddha at the first Council. It is called\nTripi_t_aka, or the Three Baskets, the first containing the Sutras, or\nthe discourses of Buddha; the second, the Vinaya, or his code of\nmorality; the third, the Abhidharma, or the system of metaphysics. The\nfirst was compiled by Ananda, the second by Upali, the third by\nKa_s_yapa--all of them the pupils and friends of Buddha. It may be\nthat these collections, as we now possess them, were finally arranged,\nnot at the first, but at the third Council. Yet, even then, we have no\nearlier, no more authentic, documents from which we could form an\nopinion as to the original teaching of Buddha; and the Nirva_n_a, as\ntaught in the metaphysics of Ka_s_yapa, and particularly in the\nPra_gn_a-paramita, is annihilation, not absorption. Buddhism,\ntherefore, if tested by its own canonical books, cannot be freed from\nthe charge of Nihilism, whatever may have been its character in the\nmind of its founder, and whatever changes it may have undergone in\nlater times, and among races less inured to metaphysical discussions\nthan the Hindus.\n\nThe ineradicable feeling of dependence on something else, which is the\nlife-spring of all religion, was completely numbed in the early Buddhist\nmetaphysicians, and it was only after several generations had passed away,\nand after Buddhism had become the creed of millions, that this feeling\nreturned with increased warmth, changing, as I said in my article, the very\nNothing into a paradise, and deifying the very Buddha who had denied the\nexistence of a Deity. That this has been the case in China we know from the\ninteresting works of the Abbe Huc, and from other sources, such as the\n'Catechism of the Shamans, or the Laws and Regulations of the Priesthood of\nBuddha in China,' translated by Ch. F. Neumann, London, 1831. In India,\nalso, Buddhism, as soon as it became a popular religion, had to speak a\nmore human language than that of metaphysical Pyrrhonism. But, if it did\nso, it was because it was shamed into it. This we may see from the very\nnicknames which the Brahmans apply to their opponents, the Bauddhas. They\ncall them Nastikas--those who maintain that there is nothing;\n_S_unyavadins-those who maintain that there is a universal void.\n\nThe only ground, therefore, on which we may stand, if we wish to\ndefend the founder of Buddhism against the charges of Nihilism and\nAtheism, is this, that, as some of the Buddhists admit, the 'Basket of\nMetaphysics' was rather the work of his pupils, not of Buddha\nhimself.[86] This distinction between the authentic words of Buddha\nand the canonical books in general, is mentioned more than once. The\npriesthood of Ceylon, when the manifest errors with which their\ncanonical commentaries abound, were brought to their notice, retreated\nfrom their former position, and now assert that it is only the express\nwords of Buddha that they receive as undoubted truth.[87] There is a\npassage in a Buddhist work which reminds us somewhat of the last page\nof Dean Milman's 'History of Christianity,' and where we read:\n\n     'The words of the priesthood are good; those of the Rahats\n     (saints) are better; but those of the All-knowing are the\n     best of all.'\n\n[Footnote 86: See Burnouf, 'Introduction,' p. 41. 'Abuddhoktam\nabhidharma-_s_astram.' Ibid. p. 454. According to the Tibetan\nBuddhists, however, Buddha propounded the Abhidharma when he was\nfifty-one years old. 'Asiatic Researches,' vol. xx. p. 339.]\n\n[Footnote 87: 'Eastern Monachism,' p. 171.]\n\nThis is an argument which Mr. Francis Barham might have used with more\nsuccess, and by which he might have justified, if not the first\ndisciples, at least the original founder of Buddhism. Nay, there is a\nsaying of Buddha's which tends to show that all metaphysical\ndiscussion was regarded by him as vain and useless. It is a saying\nmentioned in one of the MSS. belonging to the Bodleian Library. As it\nhas never been published before, I may be allowed to quote it in the\noriginal: Sadasad vi_k_aram na sahate,--'The ideas of being and not\nbeing do not admit of discussion,'--a tenet which, if we consider that\nit was enunciated before the time of the Eleatic philosophers of\nGreece, and long before Hegel's Logic, might certainly have saved us\nmany an intricate and indigestible argument.\n\nA few passages from the Buddhist writings of Nepal and Ceylon will\nbest show that the horror nihili was not felt by the metaphysicians\nof former ages in the same degree as it is felt by ourselves. The\nfamous hymn which resounds in heaven when the luminous rays of the\nsmile of Buddha penetrate through the clouds, is 'All is transitory,\nall is misery, all is void, all is without substance.' Again, it is\nsaid in the Pra_gn_a-paramita,[88] that Buddha began to think that he\nought to conduct all creatures to perfect Nirva_n_a. But he reflected\nthat there are really no creatures which ought to be conducted, nor\ncreatures that conduct; and, nevertheless, he did conduct all\ncreatures to perfect Nirva_n_a. Then, continues the text, why is it\nsaid that there are neither creatures which arrive at complete\nNirva_n_a, nor creatures which conduct there? Because it is illusion\nwhich makes creatures what they are. It is as if a clever juggler, or\nhis pupil, made an immense number of people to appear on the high\nroad, and after having made them to appear, made them to disappear\nagain. Would there be anybody who had killed, or murdered, or\nannihilated, or caused them to vanish? No. And it is the same with\nBuddha. He conducts an immense, innumerable, infinite number of\ncreatures to complete Nirva_n_a, and yet there are neither creatures\nwhich are conducted, nor creatures that conduct. If a Bodhisattva, on\nhearing this explanation of the Law, is not frightened, then it may be\nsaid that he has put on the great armour.[89]\n\n[Footnote 88: Burnouf, 'Introduction,' p. 462.]\n\n[Footnote 89: Ibid. p. 478.]\n\nSoon after, we read: 'The name of Buddha is nothing but a word. The\nname of Bodhisattva is nothing but a word. The name of Perfect Wisdom\n(Pra_gn_a-paramita) is nothing but a word. The name is indefinite, as\nif one says \"I,\" for \"I\" is something indefinite, because it has no\nlimits.'\n\nBurnouf gives the gist of the whole Pra_gn_a-paramita in the following\nwords: 'The highest Wisdom, or what is to be known, has no more real\nexistence than he who has to know, or the Bodhisattva; no more than he\nwho does know, or the Buddha.' But Burnouf remarks that nothing of\nthis kind is to be found in the Sutras, and that Gautama _S_akya-muni,\nthe son of _S_uddhodana, would never have become the founder of a\npopular religion if he had started with similar absurdities. In the\nSutras the reality of the objective world is denied; the reality of\nform is denied; the reality of the individual, or the 'I,' is equally\ndenied. But the existence of a subject, of something like the Purusha,\nthe thinking substance of the Sankhya philosophy, is spared. Something\nat least exists with respect to which everything else may be said not\nto exist. The germs of the ideas, developed in the Pra_gn_a-paramita,\nmay indeed be discovered here and there in the Sutras.[90] But they\nhad not yet ripened into that poisonous plant which soon became an\nindispensable narcotic in the schools of the later Buddhists. Buddha\nhimself, however, though, perhaps, not a Nihilist, was certainly an\nAtheist. He does not deny distinctly either the existence of gods, or\nthat of God; but he ignores the former, and he is ignorant of the\nlatter. Therefore, if Nirva_n_a in his mind was not yet complete\nannihilation, still less could it have been absorption into a Divine\nessence. It was nothing but selfishness, in the metaphysical sense of\nthe word--a relapse into that being which is nothing but itself. This\nis the most charitable view which we can take of the Nirva_n_a, even\nas conceived by Buddha himself, and it is the view which Burnouf\nderived from the canonical books of the Northern Buddhists. On the\nother hand, Mr. Spence Hardy, who in his works follows exclusively the\nauthority of the Southern Buddhists, the Pali and Singhalese works of\nCeylon, arrives at the same result. We read in his work: 'The Rahat\n(Arhat), who has reached Nirva_n_a, but is not yet a Pratyeka-buddha,\nor a Supreme Buddha, says: \"I await the appointed time for the\ncessation of existence. I have no wish to live; I have no wish to die.\nDesire is extinct.\"'\n\n[Footnote 90: Burnouf, 'Introduction,' p. 520.]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIn a very interesting dialogue between Milinda and Nagasena,\ncommunicated by Mr. Spence Hardy, Nirva_n_a is represented as\nsomething which has no antecedent cause, no qualities, no locality. It\nis something of which the utmost we may assert is, that it is:\n\n     _Nagasena._ Can a man, by his natural strength, go from the\n     city of Sagal to the forest of Himala?\n\n     _Milinda._ Yes.\n\n     _Nagasena._ But could any man, by his natural strength,\n     bring the forest of Himala to this city of Sagal?\n\n     _Milinda._ No.\n\n     _Nagasena._ In like manner, though the fruition of the paths\n     may cause the accomplishment of Nirva_n_a, no cause by which\n     Nirva_n_a is produced can be declared. The path that leads\n     to Nirva_n_a may be pointed out, but not any cause for its\n     production. Why? because that which constitutes Nirva_n_a is\n     beyond all computation,--a mystery, not to be\n     understood.... It cannot be said that it is produced, nor\n     that it is not produced; that it is past or future or\n     present. Nor can it be said that it is the seeing of the\n     eye, or the hearing of the ear, or the smelling of the nose,\n     or the tasting of the tongue, or the feeling of the body.\n\n     _Milinda._ Then you speak of a thing that is not; you merely\n     say that Nirva_n_a is Nirva_n_a;--therefore there is no\n     Nirva_n_a.\n\n     _Nagasena._ Great king, Nirva_n_a is.\n\nAnother question also, whether Nirva_n_a is something different from\nthe beings that enter into it, has been asked by the Buddhists\nthemselves:\n\n     _Milinda._ Does the being who acquires it, attain something\n     that has previously existed?--or is it his own product, a\n     formation peculiar to himself?\n\n     _Nagasena._ Nirva_n_a does not exist previously to its\n     reception; nor is it that which was brought into existence.\n     Still to the being who attains it, there is Nirva_n_a.\n\nIn opposition, therefore, to the more advanced views of the Nihilistic\nphilosophers of the North, Nagasena maintains the existence of\nNirva_n_a, and of the being that has entered Nirva_n_a. He does not\nsay that Buddha is a mere word. When asked by king Milinda, whether\nthe all-wise Buddha exists, he replies:\n\n     _Nagasena._ He who is the most meritorious (Bhagavat) does\n     exist.\n\n     _Milinda._ Then can you point out to me the place in which\n     he exists?\n\n     _Nagasena._ Our Bhagavat has attained Nirva_n_a, where there\n     is no repetition of birth. We cannot say that he is here,\n     or that he is there. When a fire is extinguished, can it be\n     said that it is here, or that it is there? Even so, our\n     Buddha has attained extinction (Nirva_n_a). He is like the\n     sun that has set behind the Astagiri mountain. It cannot be\n     said that he is here, or that he is there: but we can point\n     him out by the discourses he delivered. In them he lives.\n\nAt the present moment, the great majority of Buddhists would probably\nbe quite incapable of understanding the abstract speculation of their\nancient masters. The view taken of Nirva_n_a in China, Mongolia, and\nTatary may probably be as gross as that which most of the Mohammedans\nform of their paradise. But, in the history of religion, the historian\nmust go back to the earliest and most original documents that are to\nbe obtained. Thus only may he hope to understand the later\ndevelopments which, whether for good or evil, every form of faith has\nhad to undergo.\n\n_April, 1857._\n\n\n\n\nXII.\n\nCHINESE TRANSLATIONS\n\nOF\n\nSANSKRIT TEXTS.[91]\n\n\nWell might M. Stanislas Julien put [Greek: heureka] on the title-page\nof his last work, in which he explains his method of deciphering the\nSanskrit words which occur in the Chinese translations of the Buddhist\nliterature of India. We endeavoured to explain the laborious character\nand the important results of his researches on this subject on a\nformer occasion, when reviewing his translation of the 'Life and\nTravels of the Buddhist Pilgrim Hiouen-thsang.' At that time, however,\nM. Julien kept the key of his discoveries to himself. He gave us the\nresults of his labours without giving us more than a general idea of\nthe process by which those results had been obtained. He has now\npublished his 'Methode pour dechiffrer et transcrire les noms\nsanscrits qui se rencontrent dans les livres chinois,' and he has\ngiven to the public his Chinese-Sanskrit dictionary, the work of\nsixteen years of arduous labour, containing all the Chinese characters\nwhich are used for representing phonetically the technical terms and\nproper names of the Buddhist literature of India.\n\n[Footnote 91: 'Methode pour dechiffrer et transcrire les noms\nsanscrits qui se rencontrent dans les livres chinois.' Par M.\nStanislas Julien, Membre de l'Institut. Paris, 1861.]\n\nIn order fully to appreciate the labours and discoveries of M. Julien\nin this remote field of Oriental literature, we must bear in mind that\nthe doctrine of Buddha arose in India about two centuries before\nAlexander's invasion. It became the state religion of India soon after\nAlexander's conquest, and it produced a vast literature, which was\ncollected into a canon at a council held about 246 B.C. Very soon\nafter that council, Buddhism assumed a proselytizing character. It\nspread in the south to Ceylon, in the north to Kashmir, the Himalayan\ncountries, Tibet, and China. In the historical annals of China, on\nwhich, in the absence of anything like historical literature in\nSanskrit, we must mainly depend for information on the spreading of\nBuddhism, one Buddhist missionary is mentioned as early as 217 B.C.;\nand about the year 120 B.C. a Chinese general, after defeating the\nbarbarous tribes north of the desert of Gobi, brought back as a trophy\na golden statue--the statue of Buddha. It was not, however, till the\nyear 65 A.D. that Buddhism was officially recognised by the Chinese\nEmperor as a third state religion. Ever since, it has shared equal\nhonours with the doctrines of Confucius and Lao-tse in the Celestial\nEmpire; and it is but lately that these three established religions\nhave had to fear the encroachments of a new rival in the creed of the\nChief of the rebels.\n\nOnce established in China, and well provided with monasteries and\nbenefices, the Buddhist priesthood seems to have been most active in\nits literary labours. Immense as was the Buddhist literature of India,\nthe Chinese swelled it to still more appalling proportions. The first\nthing to be done was to translate the canonical books. This seems to\nhave been the joint work of Chinese who had acquired a knowledge of\nSanskrit during their travels in India, and of Hindus who settled in\nChinese monasteries in order to assist the native translators. The\ntranslation of books which profess to contain a new religious doctrine\nis under all circumstances a task of great difficulty. It was so\nparticularly when the subtle abstractions of the Buddhist religion had\nto be clothed in the solid, matter-of-fact idiom of the Chinese. But\nthere was another difficulty which it seemed almost impossible to\novercome. Many words, not only proper names, but the technical terms\nalso of the Buddhist creed, had to be preserved in Chinese. They were\nnot to be translated, but to be transliterated. But how was this to be\neffected with a language which, like Chinese, had no phonetic\nalphabet? Every Chinese character is a word; it has both sound and\nmeaning; and it is unfit, therefore, for the representation of the\nsound of foreign words. In modern times, certain characters have been\nset apart for the purpose of writing the proper names and titles of\nforeigners; but such is the peculiar nature of the Chinese system of\nwriting, that even with this alphabet it is only possible to represent\napproximatively the pronunciation of foreign words. In the absence,\nhowever, of even such an alphabet, the translators of the Buddhist\nliterature seem to have used their own discretion--or rather\nindiscretion--in appropriating, without any system, whatever Chinese\ncharacters seemed to them to come nearest to the sound of Sanskrit\nwords. Now the whole Chinese language consists in reality of about\nfour hundred words, or significative sounds, all monosyllabic. Each of\nthese monosyllabic sounds embraces a large number of various meanings,\nand each of these various meanings is represented by its own sign.\nThus it has happened that the Chinese Dictionary contains 43,496\nsigns, whereas the Chinese language commands only four hundred\ndistinct utterances. Instead of being restricted, therefore, to one\ncharacter which always expresses the same sound, the Buddhist\ntranslators were at liberty to express one and the same sound in a\nhundred different ways. Of this freedom they availed themselves to the\nfullest extent. Each translator, each monastery, fixed on its own\ncharacters for representing the pronunciation of Sanskrit words. There\nare more than twelve hundred Chinese characters employed by various\nwriters in order to represent the forty-two simple letters of the\nSanskrit alphabet. The result has been that even the Chinese were\nafter a time unable to read--i. e. to pronounce--these random\ntransliterations. What, then, was to be expected from Chinese scholars\nin Europe? Fortunately, the Chinese, to save themselves from their own\nperplexities, had some lists drawn up, exhibiting the principles\nfollowed by the various translators in representing the proper names,\nthe names of places, and the technical terms of philosophy and\nreligion which they had borrowed from the Sanskrit. With the help of\nthese lists, and after sixteen years consecrated to the study of the\nChinese translations of Sanskrit works and of other original\ncompositions of Buddhist authors, M. Julien at last caught up the\nthread that was to lead him through this labyrinth; and by means of\nhis knowledge of Sanskrit, which he acquired solely for that purpose,\nhe is now able to do what not even the most learned among the\nBuddhists in China could accomplish--he is able to restore the exact\nform and meaning of every word transferred from Sanskrit into the\nBuddhist literature of China.\n\nWithout this laborious process, which would have tired out the\npatience and deadened the enthusiasm of most scholars, the treasures\nof the Buddhist literature preserved in Chinese were really useless.\nAbel Remusat, who during his lifetime was considered the first Chinese\nscholar in Europe, attempted indeed a translation of the travels of\nFahian, a Buddhist pilgrim, who visited India about the end of the\nfourth century after Christ. It was in many respects a most valuable\nwork, but the hopelessness of reducing the uncouth Chinese terms to\ntheir Sanskrit originals made it most tantalising to look through its\npages. Who was to guess that Ho-kia-lo was meant for the Sanskrit\nVyakara_n_a, in the sense of sermons; Po-to for the Sanskrit Avadana,\nparables; Kia-ye-i for the Sanskrit Ka_s_yapiyas, the followers of\nKa_s_yapa? In some instances, Abel Remusat, assisted by Chezy, guessed\nrightly; and later Sanskrit scholars, such as Burnouf, Lassen, and\nWilson, succeeded in re-establishing, with more or less certainty, the\noriginal form of a number of Sanskrit words, in spite of their Chinese\ndisguises. Still there was no system, and therefore no certainty, in\nthese guesses, and many erroneous conclusions were drawn from\nfragmentary translations of Chinese writers on Buddhism, which even\nnow are not yet entirely eliminated from the works of Oriental\nscholars. With M. Julien's method, mathematical certainty seems to\nhave taken the place of learned conjectures; and whatever is to be\nlearnt from the Chinese on the origin, the history, and the true\ncharacter of Buddha's doctrine may now be had in an authentic and\nunambiguous form.\n\nBut even after the principal difficulties have been cleared away\nthrough the perseverance of M. Stanislas Julien, and after we have\nbeen allowed to reap the fruits of his labours in his masterly\ntranslation of the 'Voyages des Pelerins Bouddhistes,' there still\nremains one point that requires some elucidation. How was it that the\nChinese, whose ears no doubt are of the same construction as our own,\nshould have made such sad work of the Sanskrit names which they\ntranscribed with their own alphabet? Much may be explained by the\ndefects of their language. Such common sounds as v, g, r, b, d, and\nshort a, are unknown in Chinese as initials; no compound consonants\nare allowed, every consonant being followed by a vowel; and the final\nletters are limited to a very small number. This, no doubt, explains,\nto a great extent, the distorted appearance of many Sanskrit words\nwhen written in Chinese. Thus, Buddha could only be written Fo to.\nThere was no sign for an initial b, nor was it possible to represent a\ndouble consonant, such as ddh. Fo to was the nearest approach to\nBuddha of which Chinese, when written, was capable. But was it so in\nspeaking? Was it really impossible for Fahian and Hiouen-thsang, who\nhad spent so many years in India, and who were acquainted with all the\nintricacies of Sanskrit grammar, to distinguish between the sounds of\nBuddha and Fo to? We cannot believe this. We are convinced that\nHiouen-thsang, though he wrote, and could not but write, Fo to with\nthe Chinese characters, pronounced Buddha just as we pronounce it, and\nthat it was only among the unlearned that Fo to became at last the\nrecognised name of the founder of Buddhism, abbreviated even to the\nmonosyllabic Fo, which is now the most current appellation of 'the\nEnlightened.' In the same manner the Chinese pilgrims wrote Niepan,\nbut they pronounced Nirva_n_a; they wrote Fan-lon-mo, and pronounced\nBrahma.\n\nNor is it necessary that we should throw all the blame of these\ndistortions on the Chinese. On the contrary, it is almost certain that\nsome of the discrepancies between the Sanskrit of their translations\nand the classical Sanskrit of Pa_n_ini were due to the corruption\nwhich, at the time when Buddhism arose, and still more at the time\nwhen Buddhism spread to China, had crept into the spoken language of\nIndia. Sanskrit had ceased to be the spoken language of the people\nprevious to the time of A_s_oka. The edicts which are still preserved\non the rocks of Dhauli, Girnar, and Kapurdigiri are written in a\ndialect which stands to Sanskrit in the same relation as Italian to\nLatin. Now it is true, no doubt, that the canonical books of the\nBuddhists are written in a tolerably correct Sanskrit, very different\nfrom the Italianized dialect of A_s_oka. But that Sanskrit was, like\nthe Greek of Alexandria, like the Latin of Hungary, a learned idiom,\nwritten by the learned for the learned; it was no longer the living\nspeech of India. Now it is curious that in many of the canonical\nBuddhist works which we still possess, the text which is written in\nSanskrit prose is from time to time interrupted by poetical portions,\ncalled Gathas or ballads, in which the same things are told in verse\nwhich had before been related in prose. The dialect of these songs or\nballads is full of what grammarians would call irregularities, that is\nto say, full of those changes which every language undergoes in the\nmouths of the people. In character these corruptions are the same as\nthose which have been observed in the inscriptions of A_s_oka, and\nwhich afterwards appear in Pali and the modern Prakrit dialects of\nIndia. Various conjectures have been started to explain the\namalgamation of the correct prose text and the free and easy poetical\nversion of the same events, as embodied in the sacred literature of\nthe Buddhists. Burnouf, the first who instituted a critical inquiry\ninto the history and literature of Buddhism, supposed that there was,\nbesides the canon fixed by the three convocations, another digest of\nBuddhist doctrines composed in the popular style, which may have\ndeveloped itself, as he says, subsequently to the preaching of\n_S_akya, and which would thus be intermediate between the regular\nSanskrit and the Pali. He afterwards, however, inclines to another\nview--namely, that these Gathas were written out of India by men to\nwhom Sanskrit was no longer familiar, and who endeavoured to write in\nthe learned language, which they ill understood, with the freedom\nwhich is imparted by the habitual use of a popular but imperfectly\ndetermined dialect. Other Sanskrit scholars have proposed other\nsolutions of this strange mixture of correct prose and incorrect\npoetry in the Buddhist literature; but none of them was satisfactory.\nThe problem seems to have been solved at last by a native scholar,\nBabu Rajendralal, a curious instance of the reaction of European\nantiquarian research on the native mind of India. Babu Rajendralal\nreads Sanskrit of course with the greatest ease. He is a pandit by\nprofession, but he is at the same time a scholar and critic in our\nsense of the word. He has edited Sanskrit texts after a careful\ncollation of MSS., and in his various contributions to the 'Journal of\nthe Asiatic Society of Bengal,' he has proved himself completely above\nthe prejudices of his class, freed from the erroneous views on the\nhistory and literature of India in which every Brahman is brought up,\nand thoroughly imbued with those principles of criticism which men\nlike Colebrooke, Lassen, and Burnouf have followed in their researches\ninto the literary treasures of his country. His English is remarkably\nclear and simple, and his arguments would do credit to any Sanskrit\nscholar in England. We quote from his remarks on Burnouf's account of\nthe Gathas, as given in that scholar's 'Histoire du Buddhisme Indien:'\n\n     'Burnouf's opinion on the origin of the Gathas, we venture\n     to think, is founded on a mistaken estimate of Sanskrit\n     style. The poetry of the Gatha has much artistic elegance\n     which at once indicates that it is not the composition of\n     men who were ignorant of the first principles of grammar.\n     The authors display a great deal of learning, and discuss\n     the subtlest questions of logic and metaphysics with much\n     tact and ability, and it is difficult to conceive that men\n     who were perfectly familiar with the most intricate forms of\n     Sanskrit logic, who have expressed the most abstruse\n     metaphysical ideas in precise and often in beautiful\n     language, who composed with ease and elegance in Arya,\n     To_t_aka, and other difficult measures, were unacquainted\n     with the rudiments of the language in which they wrote, and\n     were unable to conjugate the verb to be in all its forms....\n     The more reasonable conjecture appears to be that the Gatha\n     is the production of bards who were contemporaries or\n     immediate successors of _S_akya, who recounted to the devout\n     congregations of the prophet of Magadha, the sayings and\n     doings of their great teacher in popular and easy-flowing\n     verses, which in course of time came to be regarded as the\n     most authentic source of all information connected with the\n     founder of Buddhism. The high estimation in which the\n     ballads and improvisations of bards are held in India and\n     particularly in the Buddhist writings, favours this\n     supposition; and the circumstance that the poetical portions\n     are generally introduced in corroboration of the narration\n     of the prose, with the words \"Thereof this may be said,\"\n     affords a strong presumptive evidence.'\n\nNow this, from the pen of a native scholar, is truly remarkable. The\nspirit of Niebuhr seems to have reached the shores of India, and this\nballad theory comes out more successfully in the history of Buddha\nthan in the history of Romulus. The absence of anything like cant in\nthe mouth of a Brahman speaking of Buddhism, the _bete noire_ of all\northodox Brahmans, is highly satisfactory, and our Sanskrit scholars\nin Europe will have to pull hard if, with such men as Babu Rajendralal\nin the field, they are not to be distanced in the race of scholarship.\n\nWe believe, then, that Babu Rajendralal is right, and we look upon the\ndialect of the Gathas as a specimen of the Sanskrit spoken by the\nfollowers of Buddha about the time of A_s_oka and later. And this will\nhelp us to understand some of the peculiar changes which the Sanskrit\nof the Chinese Buddhists must have undergone, even before it was\ndisguised in the strange dress of the Chinese alphabet. The Chinese\npilgrims did not hear the Sanskrit pronounced as it was pronounced in\nthe Parishads according to the strict rules of their _S_iksha or\nphonetics. They heard it as it was spoken in Buddhist monasteries, as\nit was sung in the Gathas of Buddhist minstrels, as it was preached in\nthe Vyakara_n_as or sermons of Buddhist friars. For instance. In the\nGathas a short a is frequently lengthened. We find na instead of na,\n'no.' The same occurs in the Sanskrit of the Chinese Buddhists. (See\nJulien, 'Methode,' p. 18; p. 21.) We find there also vistara instead\nof vistara, &c. In the dialect of the Gathas nouns ending in\nconsonants, and therefore irregular, are transferred to the easier\ndeclension in a. The same process takes place in modern Greek and in\nthe transition of Latin into Italian; it is, in fact, a general\ntendency of all languages which are carried on by the stream of living\nspeech. Now this transition from one declension to another had taken\nplace before the Chinese had appropriated the Sanskrit of the Buddhist\nbooks. The Sanskrit nabhas becomes nabha in the Gathas; locative\nnabhe, instead of nabhasi. If, therefore, we find in Chinese lo-che\nfor the Sanskrit ra_g_as, dust, we may ascribe the change of r into l\nto the inability of the Chinese to pronounce or to write an r. We may\nadmit that the Chinese alphabet offered nothing nearer to the sound of\n_g_a than tche; but the dropping of the final s has no excuse in\nChinese, and finds its real explanation in the nature of the Gatha\ndialect. Thus the Chinese Fan-lan-mo does not represent the correct\nSanskrit Brahman, but the vulgar form Brahma. The Chinese so-po for\nsarva, all, thomo for dharma, law, find no explanation in the dialect\nof the Gathas, but the suppression of the r before v and m, is of\nfrequent occurrence in the inscriptions of A_s_oka. The omission of\nthe initial s in words like sthana, place, sthavira, an elder, is\nlikewise founded on the rules of Pali and Prakrit, and need not be\nplaced to the account of the Chinese translators. In the inscription\nof Girnar sthavira is even reduced to thaira. The s of the nominative\nis frequently dropped in the dialect of the Gathas, or changed into o.\nHence we might venture to doubt whether it is necessary to give to the\ncharacter 1780 of M. Julien's list, which generally has the value of\nta, a second value sta. This s is only wanted to supply the final s of\nkas, the interrogative pronoun, in such a sentence as kas\ntadgu_n_a_h_? what is the use of this? Now here we are inclined to\nbelieve that the final s of kas had long disappeared in the popular\nlanguage of India, before the Chinese came to listen to the strange\nsounds and doctrines of the disciples of Buddha. They probably heard\nka tadgu_n_a, or ka taggu_n_a, and this they represented as best they\ncould by the Chinese kia-to-kieou-na.\n\nWith these few suggestions we leave the work of M. Stanislas Julien.\nIt is in reality a work done once for all--one huge stone and\nstumbling-block effectually rolled away which for years had barred the\napproach to some most valuable documents of the history of the East.\nNow that the way is clear, let us hope that others will follow, and\nthat we shall soon have complete and correct translations of the\ntravels of Fahian and other Buddhist pilgrims whose works are like so\nmany Murray's 'Handbooks of India,' giving us an insight into the\nsocial, political, and religious state of that country at a time when\nwe look in vain for any other historical documents.\n\n_March, 1861._\n\n\n\n\nXIII.\n\nTHE WORKS OF CONFUCIUS.[92]\n\n\nIn reviewing the works of missionaries, we have repeatedly dwelt on\nthe opportunities of scientific usefulness which are open to the\nmessengers of the Gospel in every part of the world. We are not afraid\nof the common objection that missionaries ought to devote their whole\ntime and powers to the one purpose for which they are sent out and\npaid by our societies. Missionaries cannot always be engaged in\nteaching, preaching, converting, and baptising the heathen. A\nmissionary, like every other human creature, ought to have his leisure\nhours; and if those leisure hours are devoted to scientific pursuits,\nto the study of the languages or the literature of the people among\nwhom he lives, to a careful description of the scenery and antiquities\nof the country, the manners, laws, and customs of its inhabitants,\ntheir legends, their national poetry, or popular stories, or, again,\nto the cultivation of any branch of natural science, he may rest\nassured that he is not neglecting the sacred trust which he accepted,\nbut is only bracing and invigorating his mind, and keeping it from\nthat stagnation which is the inevitable result of a too monotonous\nemployment. The staff of missionaries which is spread over the whole\nglobe supplies the most perfect machinery that could be devised for\nthe collection of all kinds of scientific knowledge. They ought to be\nthe pioneers of science. They should not only take out--they should\nalso bring something home; and there is nothing more likely to\nincrease and strengthen the support on which our missionary societies\ndepend, nothing more sure to raise the intellectual standard of the\nmen selected for missionary labour, than a formal recognition of this\nadditional duty. There may be exceptional cases where missionaries are\nwanted for constant toil among natives ready to be instructed, and\nanxious to be received as members of a Christian community. But, as a\ngeneral rule, the missionary abroad has more leisure than a clergyman\nat home, and time sits heavy on the hands of many whose congregations\nconsist of no more than ten or twenty souls. It is hardly necessary to\nargue this point, when we can appeal to so many facts. The most\nsuccessful missionaries have been exactly those whose names are\nremembered with gratitude, not only by the natives among whom they\nlaboured, but also by the savants of Europe; and the labours of the\nJesuit missionaries in India and China, of the Baptist missionaries at\nSerampore, of Gogerly and Spence Hardy in Ceylon, of Caldwell in\nTinnevelly, of Wilson in Bombay, of Moffat, Krapf, and last, but not\nleast, of Livingstone, will live not only in the journals of our\nacademies, but likewise in the annals of the missionary Church.\n\n[Footnote 92: 'The Chinese Classics;' with a Translation, Critical and\nExegetical Notes. By James Legge, D.D., of the London Missionary\nSociety. Hong Kong, 1861.]\n\nThe first volume of an edition of the Chinese Classics, which we have\njust received from the Rev. Dr. J. Legge, of the London Missionary\nSociety, is a new proof of what can be achieved by missionaries, if\nencouraged to devote part of their time and attention to scientific\nand literary pursuits. We do not care to inquire whether Dr. Legge has\nbeen successful as a missionary. Even if he had not converted a single\nChinese, he would, after completing the work which he has just begun,\nhave rendered most important aid to the introduction of Christianity\ninto China. He arrived in the East towards the end of 1839, having\nreceived only a few months' instruction in Chinese from Professor Kidd\nin London. Being stationed at Malacca, it seemed to him then--and he\nadds 'that the experience of twenty-one years has given its sanction\nto the correctness of the judgment'--that he could not consider\nhimself qualified for the duties of his position until he had\nthoroughly mastered the classical books of the Chinese, and\ninvestigated for himself the whole field of thought through which the\nsages of China had ranged, and in which were to be found the\nfoundations of the moral, social, and political life of the people. He\nwas not able to pursue his studies without interruption, and it was\nonly after some years, when the charge of the Anglo-Chinese College\nhad devolved upon him, that he could procure the books necessary to\nfacilitate his progress. After sixteen years of assiduous study, Dr.\nLegge had explored the principal works of Chinese literature; and he\nthen felt that he could render the course of reading through which he\nhad passed more easy to those who were to follow after him, by\npublishing, on the model of our editions of the Greek and Roman\nClassics, a critical text of the Classics of China, together with a\ntranslation and explanatory notes. His materials were ready, but\nthere was the difficulty of finding the funds necessary for so costly\nan undertaking. Scarcely, however, had Dr. Legge's wants become known\namong the British and other foreign merchants in China, than one of\nthem, Mr. Joseph Jardine, sent for the Doctor, and said to him, 'I\nknow the liberality of the merchants in China, and that many of them\nwould readily give their help to such an undertaking; but you need not\nhave the trouble of canvassing the community. If you are prepared to\nundertake the toil of the publication, I will bear the expense of it.\nWe make our money in China, and we should be glad to assist in\nwhatever promises to be a benefit to it.' The result of this\ncombination of disinterested devotion on the part of the author, and\nenlightened liberality on the part of his patron, lies now before us\nin a splendid volume of text, translation, and commentary, which, if\nthe life of the editor is spared (and the sudden death of Mr. Jardine\nfrom the effects of the climate is a warning how busily death is at\nwork among the European settlers in those regions), will be followed\nby at least six other volumes.\n\nThe edition is to comprise the books now recognised as of highest\nauthority by the Chinese themselves. These are the five King's and the\nfour Shoo's. King means the warp threads of a web, and its application\nto literary compositions rests on the same metaphor as the Latin word\ntextus, and the Sanskrit Sutra, meaning a yarn, and a book. Shoo\nsimply means writings. The five King's are, 1. the Yih, or the Book of\nChanges; 2. the Shoo, or the Book of History; 3. the She, or the Book\nof Poetry; 4. the Le Ke, or Record of Rites; and 5. the Chun Tsew, or\nSpring and Autumn; a chronicle extending from 721 to 480 B.C. The four\nShoo's consist of, 1. the Lun Yu, or Digested Conversations between\nConfucius and his disciples; 2. Ta Heo, or Great Learning, commonly\nattributed to one of his disciples; 3. the Chung Yung, or Doctrine of\nthe Mean, ascribed to the grandson of Confucius; 4. of the works of\nMencius, who died 288 B.C.\n\nThe authorship of the five King's is loosely attributed to Confucius;\nbut it is only the fifth, or 'the Spring and Autumn,' which can be\nclaimed as the work of the philosopher. The Yih, the Shoo, and the She\nKing were not composed, but only compiled by him, and much of the Le\nKe is clearly from later hands. Confucius, though the founder of a\nreligion and a reformer, was thoroughly conservative in his\ntendencies, and devotedly attached to the past. He calls himself a\ntransmitter, not a maker, believing in and loving the ancients (p.\n59). 'I am not one who was born in the possession of knowledge,' he\nsays, 'I am one who is fond of antiquity, and earnest in seeking it\nthere' (p. 65). The most frequent themes of his discourses were the\nancient songs, the history, and the rules of propriety established by\nancient sages (p. 64). When one of his contemporaries wished to do\naway with the offering of a lamb as a meaningless formality, Confucius\nreproved him with the pithy sentence, 'You love the sheep, I love the\nceremony.' There were four things, we are told, which Confucius\ntaught--letters, ethics, devotion of soul, and truthfulness (p. 66).\nWhen speaking of himself, he said, 'At fifteen, I had my mind bent on\nlearning. At thirty, I stood firm. At forty, I had no doubt. At fifty,\nI knew the decrees of heaven. At sixty, my ear was an obedient organ\nfor the reception of truth. At seventy, I could follow what my heart\ndesired, without transgressing what was right' (p. 10). Though this\nmay sound like boasting, it is remarkable how seldom Confucius himself\nclaims any superiority above his fellow-creatures. He offers his\nadvice to those who are willing to listen, but he never speaks\ndogmatically; he never attempts to tyrannize over the minds or hearts\nof his friends. If we read his biography, we can hardly understand how\na man whose life was devoted to such tranquil pursuits, and whose\ndeath scarcely produced a ripple on the smooth and silent surface of\nthe Eastern world, could have left the impress of his mind on millions\nand millions of human beings--an impress which even now, after 2339\nyears, is clearly discernible in the national character of the largest\nempire of the world. Confucius died in 478 B.C., complaining that of\nall the princes of the empire there was not one who would adopt his\nprinciples and obey his lessons. After two generations, however, his\nname had risen to be a power--the rallying point of a vast movement of\nnational and religious regeneration. His grandson speaks of him as the\nideal of a sage, as the sage is the ideal of humanity at large. Though\nTze-tze claims no divine honour for his grandsire, he exalts his\nwisdom and virtue beyond the limits of human nature. This is a\nspecimen of the language which he applies to Confucius:\n\n     'He may be compared to heaven and earth in their supporting\n     and containing, their overshadowing and curtaining all\n     things; he may be compared to the four seasons in their\n     alternating progress, and to the sun and moon in their\n     successive shining.... Quick in apprehension, clear in\n     discernment, of far-reaching intellect and all-embracing\n     knowledge, he was fitted to exercise rule; magnanimous,\n     generous, benign, and mild, he was fitted to exercise\n     forbearance; impulsive, energetic, firm, and enduring, he\n     was fitted to maintain a firm hold; self-adjusted, grave,\n     never swerving from the Mean, and correct, he was fitted to\n     command reverence; accomplished, distinctive, concentrative,\n     and searching, he was fitted to exercise discrimination....\n     All-embracing and vast, he was like heaven; deep and active\n     as a fountain, he was like the abyss.... Therefore his fame\n     overspreads the Middle Kingdom and extends to all barbarous\n     tribes. Wherever ships and carriages reach, wherever the\n     strength of man penetrates, wherever the heavens overshadow\n     and the earth sustains, wherever the sun and moon shine,\n     wherever frost and dews fall, all who have blood and breath\n     unfeignedly honour and love him. Hence it is said--He is the\n     equal of Heaven' (p. 53).\n\nThis is certainly very magnificent phraseology, but it will hardly\nconvey any definite impression to the minds of those who are not\nacquainted with the life and teaching of the great Chinese sage. These\nmay be studied now by all who can care for the history of human\nthought, in the excellent work of Dr. Legge. The first volume, just\npublished, contains the Confucian Analects, the Great Learning, and\nthe Doctrine of the Mean, or the First, Second, and Third Shoo's, and\nwill, we hope, soon be followed by the other Chinese Classics.[93] We\nmust here confine ourselves to giving a few of the sage's sayings,\nselected from thousands that are to be found in the Confucian\nAnalects. Their interest is chiefly historical, as throwing light on\nthe character of one of the most remarkable men in the history of the\nhuman race. But there is besides this a charm in the simple\nenunciation of simple truths; and such is the fear of truism in our\nmodern writers that we must go to distant times and distant countries\nif we wish to listen to that simple Solomonic wisdom which is better\nthan the merchandize of silver and the gain thereof than fine gold.\n\n[Footnote 93: Dr. Legge has since published: vol. ii. containing the\nworks of Mencius; vol. iii. part 1. containing the first part of the\nShoo King; vol. iii. part 2. containing the fifth part of the Shoo\nKing.]\n\nConfucius shows his tolerant spirit when he says, 'The superior man is\ncatholic, and no partisan. The mean man is a partisan, and not\ncatholic' (p. 14).\n\nThere is honest manliness in his saying, 'To see what is right, and\nnot to do it, is want of courage' (p. 18).\n\nHis definition of knowledge, though less profound than that of\nSocrates, is nevertheless full of good sense:\n\n     'The Master said, \"Shall I teach you what knowledge is? When\n     you know a thing, to hold that you know it; and when you do\n     not know a thing, to allow that you do not know it--this is\n     knowledge\"' (p. 15).\n\nNor was Confucius unacquainted with the secrets of the heart: 'It is\nonly the truly virtuous man,' he says in one place, 'who can love or\nwho can hate others' (p. 30). In another place he expresses his belief\nin the irresistible charm of virtue: 'Virtue is not left to stand\nalone,' he says; 'he who practises it will have neighbours.' He bears\nwitness to the hidden connection between intellectual and moral\nexcellence: 'It is not easy,' he remarks, 'to find a man who has\nlearned for three years without coming to be good' (p. 76). In his\nethics, the golden rule of the Gospel, 'Do ye unto others as ye would\nthat others should do to you,' is represented as almost unattainable.\nThus we read, 'Tsze-Kung said, \"What I do not wish men to do to me, I\nalso wish not to do to men.\" The Master said, \"Tsze, you have not\nattained to that,\"' The Brahmans, too, had a distant perception of the\nsame truth, which is expressed, for instance, in the Hitopadesa in the\nfollowing words: 'Good people show mercy unto all beings, considering\nhow like they are to themselves.' On subjects which transcend the\nlimits of human understanding, Confucius is less explicit; but his\nvery reticence is remarkable, when we consider the recklessness with\nwhich Oriental philosophers launch into the depths of religious\nmetaphysics. Thus we read (p. 107):\n\n     'Ke Loo asked about serving the spirits of the dead. The\n     Master said, \"While you are not able to serve men, how can\n     you serve their spirits?\"\n\n     Ke Loo added, \"I venture to ask about death.\" He was\n     answered, \"While you do not know life, how can you know\n     about death?\"'\n\nAnd again (p. 190):\n\n     'The Master said, \"I would prefer not speaking.\"\n\n     Tsze-Kung said, \"If you, Master, do not speak, what shall\n     we, your disciples, have to record?\"\n\n     The Master said, \"Does Heaven speak? The four seasons pursue\n     their courses, and all things are continually being\n     produced; but does Heaven say anything?\"'\n\n_November, 1861._\n\n\n\n\nXIV.\n\nPOPOL VUH.\n\n\nA book called 'Popol Vuh,'[94] and pretending to be the original text\nof the sacred writings of the Indians of Central America, will be\nreceived by most people with a sceptical smile. The Aztec children who\nwere shown all over Europe as descendants of a race to whom, before\nthe Spanish conquest, divine honours were paid by the natives of\nMexico, and who turned out to be unfortunate creatures that had been\ntampered with by heartless speculators, are still fresh in the memory\nof most people; and the 'Livre des Sauvages,'[95] lately published by\nthe Abbe Domenech, under the auspices of Count Walewsky, has somewhat\nlowered the dignity of American studies in general. Still, those who\nlaugh at the 'Manuscrit Pictographique Americain' discovered by the\nFrench Abbe in the library of the French Arsenal, and edited by him\nwith so much care as a precious relic of the old Red-skins of North\nAmerica, ought not to forget that there would be nothing at all\nsurprising in the existence of such a MS., containing genuine\npictographic writing of the Red Indians. The German critic of Abbe\nDomenech, M. Petzholdt,[96] assumes much too triumphant an air in\nannouncing his discovery that the 'Manuscrit Pictographique' was the\nwork of a German boy in the backwoods of America. He ought to have\nacknowledged that the Abbe himself had pointed out the German scrawls\non some of the pages of his MS.; that he had read the names of Anna\nand Maria; and that he never claimed any great antiquity for the book\nin question. Indeed, though M. Petzholdt tells us very confidently\nthat the whole book is the work of a naughty, nasty, and profane\nlittle boy, the son of German settlers in the backwoods of America, we\ndoubt whether anybody who takes the trouble to look through all the\npages will consider this view as at all satisfactory, or even as more\nprobable than that of the French Abbe. We know what boys are capable\nof in pictographic art from the occasional defacements of our walls\nand railings; but we still feel a little sceptical when M. Petzholdt\nassures us that there is nothing extraordinary in a boy filling a\nwhole volume with these elaborate scrawls. If M. Petzholdt had taken\nthe trouble to look at some of the barbarous hieroglyphics that have\nbeen collected in North America, he would have understood more readily\nhow the Abbe Domenech, who had spent many years among the Red Indians,\nand had himself copied several of their inscriptions, should have\ntaken the pages preserved in the library of the Arsenal at Paris as\ngenuine specimens of American pictography. There is a certain\nsimilarity between these scrawls and the figures scratched on rocks,\ntombstones, and trees by the wandering tribes of North America; and\nthough we should be very sorry to endorse the opinion of the\nenthusiastic Abbe, or to start any conjecture of our own as to the\nreal authorship of the 'Livre des Sauvages,' we cannot but think that\nM. Petzholdt would have written less confidently, and certainly less\nscornfully, if he had been more familiar than he seems to be with the\nlittle that is known of the picture-writing of the Indian tribes. As a\npreliminary to the question of the authenticity of the 'Popol Vuh,' a\nfew words on the pictorial literature of the Red Indians of North\nAmerica will not be considered out of place. The 'Popol Vuh' is not\nindeed a 'Livre des Sauvages,' but a literary composition in the true\nsense of the word. It contains the mythology and history of the\ncivilised races of Central America, and comes before us with\ncredentials that will bear the test of critical inquiry. But we shall\nbe better able to appreciate the higher achievements of the South\nafter we have examined, however cursorily, the rude beginnings in\nliterature among the savage races of the North.\n\n[Footnote 94: 'Popol Vuh:' le Livre Sacre et les Mythes de l'Antiquite\nAmericaine, avec les Livres Heroiques et Historiques des Quiches. Par\nl'Abbe Brasseur de Bourbourg. Paris: Durand, 1861.]\n\n[Footnote 95: 'Manuscrit Pictographique Americain,' precede d'une\nNotice sur l'Ideographie des Peaux-Rouges. Par l'Abbe Em. Domenech.\nOuvrage publie sous les auspices de M. le Ministre d'Etat et de la\nMaison de l'Empereur. Paris, 1860.]\n\n[Footnote 96: 'Das Buch der Wilden im Lichte Franzoesischer\nCivilisation.' Mit Proben aus dem in Paris als 'Manuscrit\nPictographique Americain,' veroeffentlichten Schmierbuche eines\nDeutsch-Amerikanischen Hinterwaelder Jungen. Von J. Petzholdt. Dresden,\n1861.]\n\nColden, in his 'History of the Five Nations,' informs us that when, in\n1696, the Count de Frontenac marched a well-appointed army into the\nIroquois country, with artillery and all other means of regular\nmilitary offence, he found, on the banks of the Onondaga, now called\nOswego River, a tree, on the trunk of which the Indians had depicted\nthe French army, and deposited two bundles of cut rushes at its foot,\nconsisting of 1434 pieces; an act of symbolical defiance on their\npart, which was intended to warn their Gallic invaders that they would\nhave to encounter this number of warriors.\n\nThis warlike message is a specimen of Indian picture-writing. It\nbelongs to the lowest stage of graphic representation, and hardly\ndiffers from the primitive way in which the Persian ambassadors\ncommunicated with the Greeks, or the Romans with the Carthaginians.\nInstead of the lance and the staff of peace between which the\nCarthaginians were asked to choose, the Red Indians would have sent an\narrow and a pipe, and the message would have been equally understood.\nThis, though not yet _peindre la parole_, is nevertheless a first\nattempt at _parler aux yeux_. It is a first beginning which may lead\nto something more perfect in the end. We find similar attempts at\npictorial communication among other savage tribes, and they seem to\nanswer every purpose. In Freycinet and Arago's 'Voyage to the Eastern\nOcean' we are told of a native of the Carolina Islands, a Tamor of\nSathoual, who wished to avail himself of the presence of a ship to\nsend to a trader at Botta, M. Martinez, some shells which he had\npromised to collect in exchange for a few axes and some other\narticles. This he expressed to the captain, who gave him a piece of\npaper to make the drawing, and satisfactorily executed the commission.\nThe figure of a man at the top denoted the ship's captain, who by his\noutstretched hands represented his office as a messenger between the\nparties. The rays or ornaments on his head denote rank or authority.\nThe vine beneath him is a type of friendship. In the left column are\ndepicted the number and kinds of shells sent; in the right column the\nthings wished for in exchange--namely, seven fish-hooks, three large\nand four small, two axes, and two pieces of iron.\n\nThe inscriptions which are found on the Indian graveboards mark a step\nin advance. Every warrior has his crest, which is called his totem,\nand is painted on his tombstone. A celebrated war-chief, the Adjetatig\nof Wabojeeg, died on Lake Superior, about 1793. He was of the clan of\nthe Addik, or American reindeer. This fact is symbolized by the figure\nof the deer. The reversed position denotes death. His own personal\nname, which was White Fisher, is not noticed. But there are seven\ntransverse strokes on the left, and these have a meaning--namely, that\nhe had led seven war parties. Then there are three perpendicular lines\nbelow his crest, and these again are readily understood by every\nIndian. They represent the wounds received in battle. The figure of a\nmoose's head is said to relate to a desperate conflict with an enraged\nanimal of this kind; and the symbols of the arrow and the pipe are\ndrawn to indicate the chief's influence in war and peace.\n\nThere is another graveboard of the ruling chief of Sandy Lake on the\nUpper Mississippi. Here the reversed bird denotes his family name or\nclan, the Crane. Four transverse lines above it denote that he had\nkilled four of his enemies in battle. An analogous custom is mentioned\nby Aristotle ('Politica,' vii. 2, p. 220, ed. Goettling). Speaking of\nthe Iberians, he states that they placed as many obelisks round the\ngrave of a warrior as he had killed enemies in battle.\n\nBut the Indians went further; and though they never arrived at the\nperfection of the Egyptian hieroglyphics, they had a number of\nsymbolic emblems which were perfectly understood by all their tribes.\nEating is represented by a man's hand lifted to his mouth. Power over\nman is symbolized by a line drawn in the figure from the mouth to the\nheart; power in general by a head with two horns. A circle drawn\naround the body at the abdomen denotes full means of subsistence. A\nboy drawn with waved lines from each ear and lines leading to the\nheart represents a pupil. A figure with a plant as head, and two\nwings, denotes a doctor skilled in medicine, and endowed with the\npower of ubiquity. A tree with human legs, a herbalist or professor of\nbotany. Night is represented by a finely crossed or barred sun, or a\ncircle with human legs. Rain is figured by a dot or semicircle filled\nwith water and placed on the head. The heaven with three disks of the\nsun is understood to mean three days' journey, and a landing after a\nvoyage is represented by a tortoise. Short sentences, too, can be\npictured in this manner. A prescription ordering abstinence from food\nfor two, and rest for four, days is written by drawing a man with two\nbars on the stomach and four across the legs. We are told even of\nwar-songs and love-songs composed in this primitive alphabet; but it\nwould seem as if, in these cases, the reader required even greater\npoetical imagination than the writer. There is one war-song consisting\nof four pictures--\n\n     1. The sun rising.\n\n     2. A figure pointing with one hand to the earth and the\n     other extended to the sky.\n\n     3. The moon with two human legs.\n\n     4. A figure personifying the Eastern woman, i. e. the\n     evening star.\n\nThese four symbols are said to convey to the Indian the following\nmeaning:\n\n    I am rising to seek the war path;\n    The earth and the sky are before me;\n    I walk by day and by night;\n    And the evening star is my guide.\n\nThe following is a specimen of a love-song:\n\n     1. Figure representing a god (monedo) endowed with magic\n     power.\n\n     2. Figure beating the drum and singing; lines from his\n     mouth.\n\n     3. Figure surrounded by a secret lodge.\n\n     4. Two bodies joined with one continuous arm.\n\n     5. A woman on an island.\n\n     6. A woman asleep; lines from his ear towards her.\n\n     7. A red heart in a circle.\n\nThis poem is intended to express these sentiments:\n\n     1. It is my form and person that make me great--\n\n     2. Hear the voice of my song, it is my voice.\n\n     3. I shield myself with secret coverings.\n\n     4. All your thoughts are known to me, blush!\n\n     5. I could draw you hence were you ever so far--\n\n     6. Though you were on the other hemisphere--\n\n     7. I speak to your naked heart.\n\nAll we can say is, that if the Indians can read this writing, they are\ngreater adepts in the mysteries of love than the judges of the old\n_Cours d'amour_. But it is much more likely that these war-songs and\nlove-songs are known to the people beforehand, and that their writings\nare only meant to revive what exists in the memory of the reader. It\nis a kind of mnemonic writing, and it has been used by missionaries\nfor similar purposes, and with considerable success. Thus, in a\ntranslation of the Bible in the Massachusetts language by Eliot, the\nverses from 25 to 32 in the thirtieth chapter of Proverbs, are\nexpressed by 'an ant, a coney, a locust, a spider, a river (symbol of\nmotion), a lion, a greyhound, a he-goat and king, a man foolishly\nlifting himself to take hold of the heavens.' No doubt these symbols\nwould help the reader to remember the proper order of the verses, but\nthey would be perfectly useless without a commentary or without a\nprevious knowledge of the text.\n\nWe are told that the famous Testera, brother of the chamberlain of\nFrancois I, who came to America eight or nine years after the taking\nof Mexico, finding it impossible to learn the language of the natives,\ntaught them the Bible history and the principal doctrines of the\nChristian religion, by means of pictures, and that these diagrams\nproduced a greater effect on the minds of the people, who were\naccustomed to this style of representation, than all other means\nemployed by the missionaries. But here again, unless these pictures\nwere explained by interpreters, they could by themselves convey no\nmeaning to the gazing crowds of the natives. The fullest information\non this subject is to be found in a work by T. Baptiste, 'Hieroglyphes\nde la conversion, ou par des estampes et des figures on apprend aux\nnaturels a desirer le ciel.'\n\nThere is no evidence to show that the Indians of the North ever\nadvanced beyond the rude attempts which we have thus described, and of\nwhich numerous specimens may be found in the voluminous work of\nSchoolcraft, published by authority of Congress, 'Historical and\nStatistical Information respecting the History, Condition, and\nProspects of the Indian Tribes of the United States,' Philadelphia,\n1851-1855. There is no trace of anything like literature among the\nwandering tribes of the North, and until a real 'Livre des Sauvages'\nturns up to fill this gap, they must continue to be classed among the\nilliterate races.[97]\n\n[Footnote 97: 'Manuscrit Pictographique,' pp. 26, 29.]\n\nIt is very different if we turn our eyes to the people of Central and\nSouth America, to the races who formed the population of Mexico,\nGuatemala, and Peru, when conquered by the Spaniards. The Mexican\nhieroglyphics published by Lord Kingsborough are not to be placed in\nthe same category with the totems and the pictorial scratches of the\nRed-skins. They are, first of all, of a much more artistic character,\nmore conventional in their structure, and hence more definite in their\nmeaning. They are coloured, written on paper, and in many respects\nquite on a level with the hieroglyphic inscriptions and hieratic\npapyri of Egypt. Even the conception of speaking to the ear through\nthe eye, of expressing sound by means of outlines, was familiar to the\nMexicans, though they seem to have applied their phonetic signs to the\nwriting of the names of places and persons only. The principal object,\nindeed, of the Mexican hieroglyphic manuscripts was not to convey new\ninformation, but rather to remind the reader by means of mnemonic\nartifices of what he had learnt beforehand. This is acknowledged by\nthe best authorities, by men who knew the Indians shortly after their\nfirst intercourse with Europeans, and whom we may safely trust in what\nthey tell us of the oral literature and hieroglyphic writings of the\nnatives. Acosta, in his 'Historia natural y moral,' vi. 7, tells us\nthat the Indians were still in the habit of reciting from memory the\naddresses and speeches of their ancient orators, and numerous songs\ncomposed by their national poets. As it was impossible to acquire\nthese by means of hieroglyphics or written characters such as were\nused by the Mexicans, care was taken that those speeches and poems\nshould be learnt by heart. There were colleges and schools for that\npurpose, where these and other things were taught to the young by the\naged in whose memory they seemed to be engraved. The young men who\nwere brought up to be orators themselves had to learn the ancient\ncompositions word by word; and when the Spaniards came and taught them\nto read and write the Spanish language, the Indians soon began to\nwrite for themselves, a fact attested by many eye-witnesses.\n\nLas Casas, the devoted friend of the Indians, writes as follows:\n\n     'It ought to be known that in all the republics of this\n     country, in the kingdoms of New Spain and elsewhere, there\n     was amongst other professions, that of the chroniclers and\n     historians. They possessed a knowledge of the earliest\n     times, and of all things concerning religion, the gods, and\n     their worship. They knew the founders of cities, and the\n     early history of their kings and kingdoms. They knew the\n     modes of election and the right of succession; they could\n     tell the number and characters of their ancient kings, their\n     works, and memorable achievements whether good or bad, and\n     whether they had governed well or ill. They knew the men\n     renowned for virtue and heroism in former days, what wars\n     they had waged, and how they had distinguished themselves;\n     who had been the earliest settlers, what had been their\n     ancient customs, their triumphs and defeats. They knew, in\n     fact, whatever belonged to history; and were able to give an\n     account of all the events of the past.... These chroniclers\n     had likewise to calculate the days, months, and years; and\n     though they had no writing like our own, they had their\n     symbols and characters through which they understood\n     everything; they had their great books, which were composed\n     with such ingenuity and art that our alphabet was really of\n     no great assistance to them.... Our priests have seen those\n     books, and I myself have seen them likewise, though many\n     were burnt at the instigation of the monks, who were afraid\n     that they might impede the work of conversion. Sometimes\n     when the Indians who had been converted had forgotten\n     certain words, or particular points of the Christian\n     doctrine, they began--as they were unable to read our\n     books--to write very ingeniously with their own symbols and\n     characters, drawing the figures which corresponded either to\n     the ideas or to the sounds of our words. I have myself seen\n     a large portion of the Christian doctrine written in figures\n     and images, which they read as we read the characters of a\n     letter; and this is a very extraordinary proof of their\n     genius.... There never was a lack of those chroniclers. It\n     was a profession which passed from father to son, highly\n     respected in the whole republic; each historian instructed\n     two or three of his relatives. He made them practise\n     constantly, and they had recourse to him whenever a doubt\n     arose on a point of history.... But not these young\n     historians only went to consult him; kings, princes, and\n     priests came to ask his advice. Whenever there was a doubt\n     as to ceremonies, precepts of religion, religious festivals,\n     or anything of importance in the history of the ancient\n     kingdoms, every one went to the chroniclers to ask for\n     information.'\n\nIn spite of the religious zeal of Dominican and Franciscan friars, a\nfew of these hieroglyphic MSS. escaped the flames, and may now be seen\nin some of our public libraries, as curious relics of a nearly extinct\nand forgotten literature. The first collection of these MSS. and other\nAmerican antiquities was due to the zeal of the Milanese antiquarian,\nBoturini, who had been sent by the Pope in 1736 to regulate some\necclesiastical matters, and who devoted the eight years of his stay in\nthe New World to rescuing whatever could be rescued from the scattered\nruins of ancient America. Before, however, he could bring these\ntreasures safe to Europe, he was despoiled of his valuables by the\nSpanish Viceroy; and when at last he made his escape with the remnants\nof his collection, he was taken prisoner by an English cruiser, and\nlost everything. The collection, which remained at Mexico, became the\nsubject of several lawsuits, and after passing through the hands of\nVeytia and Gama, who both added to it considerably, it was sold at\nlast by public auction. Humboldt, who was at that time passing through\nMexico, acquired some of the MSS., which he gave to the Royal Museum\nat Berlin. Others found their way into private hands, and after many\nvicissitudes they have mostly been secured by the public libraries or\nprivate collectors of Europe. The most valuable part of that\nunfortunate shipwreck is now in the hands of M. Aubin, who was sent to\nMexico in 1830 by the French Government, and who devoted nearly\ntwenty years to the same work which Boturini had commenced a hundred\nyears before. He either bought the dispersed fragments of the\ncollections of Boturini, Gama, and Pichardo, or procured accurate\ncopies; and he has brought to Europe, what is, if not the most\ncomplete, at least the most valuable and most judiciously arranged\ncollection of American antiquities. We likewise owe to M. Aubin the\nfirst accurate knowledge of the real nature of the ancient Mexican\nwriting; and we look forward with confident hope to his still\nachieving in his own field as great a triumph as that of Champollion,\nthe decipherer of the hieroglyphics of Egypt.\n\nOne of the most important helps towards the deciphering of the\nhieroglyphic MSS. of the Americans is to be found in certain books\nwhich, soon after the conquest of Mexico, were written down by natives\nwho had learnt the art of alphabetic writing from their conquerors,\nthe Spaniards. Ixtlilxochitl, descended from the royal family of\nTetzcuco, and employed as interpreter by the Spanish Government, wrote\nthe history of his own country from the earliest time to the arrival\nof Cortez. In writing this history he followed the hieroglyphic\npaintings as they had been explained to him by the old chroniclers.\nSome of these very paintings, which formed the text-book of the\nMexican historian, have been recovered by M. Aubin; and as they helped\nthe historian in writing his history, that history now helps the\nscholar in deciphering their meaning. It is with the study of works\nlike that of Ixtlilxochitl that American philology ought to begin.\nThey are to the student of American antiquities what Manetho is to\nthe student of Egyptian hieroglyphics, or Berosus to the decipherer of\nthe cuneiform inscriptions. They are written in dialects not more than\nthree hundred years old, and still spoken by large numbers of natives,\nwith such modifications as three centuries are certain to produce.\nThey give us whatever was known of history, mythology, and religion\namong the people whom the Spaniards found in Central and South America\nin the possession of most of the advantages of a long-established\ncivilisation. Though we must not expect to find in them what we are\naccustomed to call history, they are nevertheless of great historical\ninterest, as supplying the vague outlines of a distant past, filled\nwith migrations, wars, dynasties, and revolutions, such as were\ncherished in the memory of the Greeks at the time of Solon, and\nbelieved in by the Romans at the time of Cato. They teach us that the\nNew World which was opened to Europe a few centuries ago, was in its\nown eyes an old world, not so different in character and feelings from\nourselves as we are apt to imagine when we speak of the Red-skins of\nAmerica, or when we read the accounts of the Spanish conquerors, who\ndenied that the natives of America possessed human souls, in order to\nestablish their own right of treating them like wild beasts.\n\nThe 'Popol Vuh,' or the sacred book of the people of Guatemala, of\nwhich the Abbe Brasseur de Bourbourg has just published the original\ntext, together with a literal French translation, holds a very\nprominent rank among the works composed by natives in their own native\ndialects, and written down by them with the letters of the Roman\nalphabet. There are but two works that can be compared to it in their\nimportance to the student of American antiquities and American\nlanguages, namely, the 'Codex Chimalpopoca' in Nahuatl, the ancient\nwritten language of Mexico, and the 'Codex Cakchiquel' in the dialect\nof Guatemala. These, together with the work published by the Abbe\nBrasseur de Bourbourg under the title of 'Popol Vuh,' must form the\nstarting-point of all critical inquiries into the antiquities of the\nAmerican people.\n\nThe first point which has to be determined with regard to books of\nthis kind is whether they are genuine or not: whether they are what\nthey pretend to be--compositions about three centuries old, founded on\nthe oral traditions and the pictographic documents of the ancient\ninhabitants of America, and written in the dialects as spoken at the\ntime of Columbus, Cortez, and Pizarro. What the Abbe Brasseur de\nBourbourg has to say on this point amounts to this:--The manuscript\nwas first discovered by Father Francisco Ximenes towards the end of\nthe seventeenth century. He was cure of Santo-Tomas Chichicastenango,\nsituated about three leagues south of Santa-Cruz del Quiche, and\ntwenty-two leagues north-east of Guatemala. He was well acquainted\nwith the languages of the natives of Guatemala, and has left a\ndictionary of their three principal dialects, his 'Tesoro de las\nLenguas Quiche, Cakchiquel y Tzutohil.' This work, which has never\nbeen printed, fills two volumes, the second of which contains the copy\nof the MS. discovered by Ximenes. Ximenes likewise wrote a history of\nthe province of the preachers of San-Vincente de Chiapas y Guatemala,\nin four volumes. Of this he left two copies. But three volumes only\nwere still in existence when the Abbe Brasseur de Bourbourg visited\nGuatemala, and they are said to contain valuable information on the\nhistory and traditions of the country. The first volume contains the\nSpanish translation of the manuscript which occupies us at present.\nThe Abbe Brasseur de Bourbourg copied that translation in 1855. About\nthe same time a German traveller, Dr. Scherzer, happened to be at\nGuatemala, and had copies made of the works of Ximenes. These were\npublished at Vienna, in 1856.[98] The French Abbe, however, was not\nsatisfied with a mere reprint of the text and its Spanish translation\nby Ximenes, a translation which he qualifies as untrustworthy and\nfrequently unintelligible. During his travels in America he acquired a\npractical knowledge of several of the native dialects, particularly of\nthe Quiche, which is still spoken in various dialects by about six\nhundred thousand people. As a priest he was in daily intercourse with\nthese people; and it was while residing among them and able to consult\nthem like living dictionaries, that, with the help of the MSS. of\nXimenes, he undertook his own translation of the ancient chronicles of\nthe Quiches. From the time of the discovery of Ximenes, therefore, to\nthe time of the publication of the Abbe Brasseur de Bourbourg, all\nseems clear and satisfactory. But there is still a century to be\naccounted for, from the end of the sixteenth century, when the\noriginal is supposed to have been written, to the end of the\nseventeenth, when it was first discovered by Ximenes at\nChichicastenango.\n\n[Footnote 98: Mr. A. Helps was the first to point out the importance\nof this work in his excellent 'History of the Spanish Conquest in\nAmerica.']\n\nThese years are not bridged over. We may appeal, however, to the\nauthority of the MS. itself, which carries the royal dynasties down to\nthe Spanish Conquest, and ends with the names of the two princes, Don\nJuan de Rojas and Don Juan Cortes, the sons of Tecum and Tepepul.\nThese princes, though entirely subject to the Spaniards, were allowed\nto retain the insignia of royalty to the year 1558, and it is shortly\nafter their time that the MS. is supposed to have been written. The\nauthor himself says in the beginning that he wrote 'after the word of\nGod (chabal Dios) had been preached, in the midst of Christianity; and\nthat he did so because people could no longer see the 'Popol Vuh,'\nwherein it was clearly shown that they came from the other side of the\nsea, the account of our living in the land of shadow, and how we saw\nlight and life.' There is no attempt at claiming for his work any\nextravagant age or mysterious authority. It is acknowledged to have\nbeen written when the Castilians were the rulers of the land; when\nbishops were preaching the word of Dios, the new God; when the ancient\ntraditions of the people were gradually dying out. Even the title of\n'Popol Vuh,' which the Abbe Brasseur de Bourbourg has given to this\nwork, is not claimed for it by its author. He says that he wrote when\nthe 'Popol Vuh' was no longer to be seen. Now 'Popol Vuh' means the\nbook of the people, and referred to the traditional literature in\nwhich all that was known about the early history of the nation, their\nreligion and ceremonies, was handed down from age to age.\n\nIt is to be regretted that the Abbe Brasseur de Bourbourg should have\nsanctioned the application of this name to the Quiche MS. discovered\nby Father Ximenes, and that he should apparently have translated it by\n'Livre sacre' instead of 'Livre national,' or 'Libro del comun,' as\nproposed by Ximenes. Such small inaccuracies are sure to produce great\nconfusion. Nothing but a desire to have a fine sounding title could\nhave led the editor to commit this mistake, for he himself confesses\nthat the work published by him has no right to the title 'Popol Vuh,'\nand that 'Popol Vuh' does not mean 'Livre sacre.' Nor is there any\nmore reason to suppose, with the learned Abbe, that the first two\nbooks of the Quiche MS. contain an almost literal transcript of the\n'Popol Vuh,' or that the 'Popol Vuh; was the original of the\n'Teo-Amoxtli,' or the sacred book of the Toltecs. All we know is, that\nthe author wrote his anonymous work because the 'Popol Vuh'--the\nnational book, or the national tradition--was dying out, and that he\ncomprehended in the first two sections the ancient traditions common\nto the whole race, while he devoted the last two to the historical\nannals of the Quiches, the ruling nation at the time of the Conquest\nin what is now the republic of Guatemala. If we look at the MS. in\nthis light, there is nothing at all suspicious in its character and\nits contents. The author wished to save from destruction the stories\nwhich he had heard as a child of his gods and his ancestors. Though\nthe general outline of these stories may have been preserved partly in\nthe schools, partly in the pictographic MSS., the Spanish Conquest had\nthrown everything into confusion, and the writer had probably to\ndepend chiefly on his own recollections. To extract consecutive\nhistory from these recollections, is simply impossible. All is vague,\ncontradictory, miraculous, absurd. Consecutive history is altogether\na modern idea, of which few only of the ancient nations had any\nconception. If we had the exact words of the 'Popol Vuh,' we should\nprobably find no more history there than we find in the Quiche MS. as\nit now stands. Now and then, it is true, one imagines one sees certain\nperiods and landmarks, but in the next page all is chaos again. It may\nbe difficult to confess that with all the traditions of the early\nmigrations of Cecrops and Danaus into Greece, with the Homeric poems\nof the Trojan war, and the genealogies of the ancient dynasties of\nGreece, we know nothing of Greek history before the Olympiads, and\nvery little even then. Yet the true historian does not allow himself\nto indulge in any illusions on this subject, and he shuts his eyes\neven to the most plausible reconstructions.\n\nThe same applies with a force increased a hundredfold to the ancient\nhistory of the aboriginal races of America, and the sooner this is\nacknowledged, the better for the credit of American scholars. Even the\ntraditions of the migrations of the Chichimecs, Colhuas, and Nahuas,\nwhich form the staple of all American antiquarians, are no better than\nthe Greek traditions about Pelasgians, AEolians, and Ionians; and it\nwould be a mere waste of time to construct out of such elements a\nsystematic history, only to be destroyed again sooner or later by some\nNiebuhr, Grote, or Lewis.\n\nBut if we do not find history in the stories of the ancient races of\nGuatemala, we do find materials for studying their character, for\nanalysing their religion and mythology, for comparing their principles\nof morality, their views of virtue, beauty, and heroism, to those of\nother races of mankind. This is the charm, the real and lasting charm,\nof such works as that presented to us for the first time in a\ntrustworthy translation by the Abbe Brasseur de Bourbourg.\nUnfortunately there is one circumstance which may destroy even this\ncharm. It is just possible that the writers of this and other American\nMSS. may have felt more or less consciously the influence of European\nand Christian ideas, and if so, we have no sufficient guarantee that\nthe stories they tell represent to us the American mind in its\npristine and genuine form. There are some coincidences between the Old\nTestament and the Quiche MS. which are certainly startling. Yet even\nif a Christian influence has to be admitted, much remains in these\nAmerican traditions which is so different from anything else in the\nnational literatures of other countries, that we may safely treat it\nas the genuine growth of the intellectual soil of America. We shall\ngive, in conclusion, some extracts to bear out our remarks; but we\nought not to part with Abbe Brasseur de Bourbourg without expressing\nto him our gratitude for his excellent work, and without adding a hope\nthat he may be able to realise his plan of publishing a 'Collection of\ndocuments written in the indigenous languages, to assist the student\nof the history and philology of ancient America,' a collection of\nwhich the work now published is to form the first volume.\n\n\n_Extracts from the 'Popol Vuh.'_\n\nThe Quiche MS. begins with an account of the creation. If we read it\nin the literal translation of the Abbe Brasseur de Bourbourg, with all\nthe uncouth names of divine and other beings that have to act their\nparts in it, it does not leave any very clear impression on our minds.\nYet after reading it again and again, some salient features stand out\nmore distinctly, and make us feel that there was a groundwork of noble\nconceptions which has been covered and distorted by an aftergrowth of\nfantastic nonsense. We shall do best for the present to leave out all\nproper names, which only bewilder the memory and which convey no\ndistinct meaning even to the scholar. It will require long-continued\nresearch before it can be determined whether the names so profusely\napplied to the Deity were intended as the names of so many distinct\npersonalities, or as the names of the various manifestations of one\nand the same Power. At all events, they are of no importance to us\ntill we can connect more distinct ideas than it is possible to gather\nfrom the materials now at hand, with such inharmonious sounds as\nTzakol, Bitol, Alom, Qaholom, Hun-Ahpu-Vuch, Gucumatz, Quax-Cho, &c.\nTheir supposed meanings are in some cases very appropriate, such as\nthe Creator, the Fashioner, the Begetter, the Vivifier, the Ruler, the\nLord of the green planisphere, the Lord of the azure surface, the\nHeart of heaven; in other cases we cannot fathom the original\nintention of names such as the feathered serpent, the white boar, _le\ntireur de sarbacane au sarigue_, and others; and they therefore sound\nto our ears simply absurd. Well, the Quiches believed that there was a\ntime when all that exists in heaven and earth was made. All was then\nin suspense, all was calm and silent; all was immovable, all peaceful,\nand the vast space of the heavens was empty. There was no man, no\nanimal, no shore, no trees; heaven alone existed. The face of the\nearth was not to be seen; there was only the still expanse of the sea\nand the heaven above. Divine Beings were on the waters like a growing\nlight. Their voice was heard as they meditated and consulted, and when\nthe dawn rose, man appeared. Then the waters were commanded to retire,\nthe earth was established that she might bear fruit and that the light\nof day might shine on heaven and earth.\n\n'For, they said, we shall receive neither glory nor honour from all we\nhave created until there is a human being--a being endowed with\nreason. \"Earth,\" they said, and in a moment the earth was formed. Like\na vapour it rose into being, mountains appeared from the waters like\nlobsters, and the great mountains were made. Thus was the creation of\nthe earth, when it was fashioned by those who are the Heart of heaven,\nthe Heart of the earth; for thus were they called who first gave\nfertility to them, heaven and earth being still inert and suspended in\nthe midst of the waters.'\n\nThen follows the creation of the brute world, and the disappointment\nof the gods when they command the animals to tell their names and to\nhonour those who had created them. Then the gods said to the animals:\n\n'You will be changed, because you cannot speak. We have changed your\nspeech. You shall have your food and your dens in the woods and crags;\nfor our glory is not perfect, and you do not invoke us. There will be\nbeings still that can salute us; we shall make them capable of\nobeying. Do your task; as to your flesh, it will be broken by the\ntooth.'\n\nThen follows the creation of man. His flesh was made of earth (_terre\nglaise_). But man was without cohesion or power, inert and aqueous;\nhe could not turn his head, his sight was dim, and though he had the\ngift of speech, he had no intellect. He was soon consumed again in the\nwater.\n\nAnd the gods consulted a second time how to create beings that should\nadore them, and after some magic ceremonies, men were made of wood,\nand they multiplied. But they had no heart, no intellect, no\nrecollection of their Creator; they did not lift up their heads to\ntheir Maker, and they withered away and were swallowed up by the\nwaters.\n\nThen follows a third creation, man being made of a tree called tzite,\nwoman of the marrow of a reed called sibac. They, too, did neither\nthink nor speak before him who had made them, and they were likewise\nswept away by the waters and destroyed. The whole nature--animals,\ntrees, and stones--turned against men to revenge the wrongs they had\nsuffered at their hands, and the only remnant of that early race is to\nbe found in small monkeys which still live in the forests.\n\nThen follows a story of a very different character, and which\ncompletely interrupts the progress of events. It has nothing to do\nwith the creation, though it ends with two of its heroes being changed\ninto sun and moon. It is a story very much like the fables of the\nBrahmans or the German Maehrchen. Some of the principal actors in it\nare clearly divine beings who have been brought down to the level of\nhuman nature, and who perform feats and tricks so strange and\nincredible that in reading them we imagine ourselves in the midst of\nthe Arabian Nights. In the struggles of the two favourite heroes\nagainst the cruel princes of Xibalba, there may be reminiscences of\nhistorical events; but it would be perfectly hopeless to attempt to\nextricate these from the mass of fable by which they are surrounded.\nThe chief interest of the American tale consists in the points of\nsimilarity which it exhibits with the tales of the Old World. We shall\nmention two only--the repeated resuscitation of the chief heroes, who,\neven when burnt and ground to powder and scattered on the water, are\nborn again as fish and changed into men; and the introduction of\nanimals endowed with reason and speech. As in the German tales,\ncertain peculiarities in the appearance and natural habits of animals\nare frequently accounted for by events that happened 'once upon a\ntime'--for instance, the stumpy tail of the bear, by his misfortune\nwhen he went out fishing on the ice--so we find in the American tales,\n'that it was when the two principal heroes (Hun-Ahpu and Xbalanque)\nhad caught the rat and were going to strangle it over the fire, that\n_le rat commenca a porter une queue sans poil_. Thus, because a\ncertain serpent swallowed a frog who was sent as a messenger,\ntherefore _aujourd'hui encore les serpents engloutissent les\ncrapauds_.'\n\nThe story, which well deserves the attention of those who are\ninterested in the origin and spreading of popular tales, is carried on\nto the end of the second book, and it is only in the third that we\nhear once more of the creation of man.\n\nThree attempts, as we saw, had been made and had failed. We now hear\nagain that before the beginning of dawn, and before the sun and moon\nhad risen, man had been made, and that nourishment was provided for\nhim which was to supply his blood, namely, yellow and white maize.\nFour men are mentioned as the real ancestors of the human race, or\nrather of the race of the Quiches. They were neither begotten by the\ngods nor born of woman, but their creation was a wonder wrought by the\nCreator. They could reason and speak, their sight was unlimited, and\nthey knew all things at once. When they had rendered thanks to their\nCreator for their existence, the gods were frightened and they\nbreathed a cloud over the eyes of men that they might see a certain\ndistance only, and not be like the gods themselves. Then while the\nfour men were asleep, the gods gave them beautiful wives, and these\nbecame the mothers of all tribes, great and small. These tribes, both\nblack and white, lived and spread in the East. They did not yet\nworship the gods, but only turned their faces up to heaven, hardly\nknowing what they were meant to do here below. Their features were\nsweet, so was their language, and their intellect was strong.\n\nWe now come to a most interesting passage, which is intended to\nexplain the confusion of tongues. No nation, except the Jews, has\ndwelt much on the problem why there should be many languages instead\nof one. Grimm, in his 'Essay on the Origin of Language,' remarks: 'It\nmay seem surprising that neither the ancient Greeks nor the ancient\nIndians attempted to propose or to solve the question as to the origin\nand the multiplicity of human speech. Holy Writ strove to solve at\nleast one of these riddles, that of the multiplicity of languages, by\nmeans of the tower of Babel. I know only one other poor Esthonian\nlegend which might be placed by the side of this biblical solution.\n\"The old god,\" they say, \"when men found their first seats too narrow,\nresolved to spread them over the whole earth, and to give to each\nnation its own language. For this purpose he placed a caldron of water\non the fire, and commanded the different races to approach it in\norder, and to select for themselves the sounds which were uttered by\nthe singing of the water in its confinement and torture.'\"\n\nGrimm might have added another legend which is current among the\nThlinkithians, and was clearly framed in order to account for the\nexistence of different languages. The Thlinkithians are one of the\nfour principal races inhabiting Russian America. They are called\nKaljush, Koljush, or Kolosh by the Russians, and inhabit the coast\nfrom about 60 deg. to 45 deg. N.L., reaching therefore across the Russian\nfrontier as far as the Columbia River, and they likewise hold many of\nthe neighbouring islands. Weniaminow estimates their number, both in\nthe Russian and English colonies, at 20 to 25,000. They are evidently\na decreasing race, and their legends, which seem to be numerous and\nfull of original ideas, would well deserve the careful attention of\nAmerican ethnologists. Wrangel suspected a relationship between them\nand the Aztecs of Mexico. These Thlinkithians believe in a general\nflood or deluge, and that men saved themselves in a large floating\nbuilding. When the waters fell, the building was wrecked on a rock,\nand by its own weight burst into two pieces. Hence arose the\ndifference of languages. The Thlinkithians with their language\nremained on one side; on the other side were all the other races of\nthe earth.[99]\n\n[Footnote 99: Holmberg, 'Ethnographische Skizzen ueber die Voelker des\nRussischen Amerika,' Helsingfors, 1855.]\n\nNeither the Esthonian nor the Thlinkithian legend, however, offers any\nstriking points of coincidence with the Mosaic accounts. The\nanalogies, therefore, as well as the discrepancies, between the ninth\nchapter of Genesis and the chapter here translated from the Quiche MS.\nrequire special attention:\n\n     'All had but one language, and they did not invoke as yet\n     either wood or stones; they only remembered the word of the\n     Creator, the Heart of heaven and earth.\n\n     'And they spoke while meditating on what was hidden by the\n     spring of day; and full of the sacred word, full of love,\n     obedience, and fear, they made their prayers, and lifting\n     their eyes up to heaven, they asked for sons and daughters:\n\n     '\"Hail! O Creator and Fashioner, thou who seest and hearest\n     us! do not forsake us, O God, who art in heaven and earth,\n     Heart of the sky, Heart of the earth! Give us offspring and\n     descendants as long as the sun and dawn shall advance. Let\n     there be seed and light. Let us always walk on open paths,\n     on roads where there is no ambush. Let us always be quiet\n     and in peace with those who are ours. May our lives run on\n     happily. Give us a life secure from reproach. Let there be\n     seed for harvest, and let there be light.\"\n\n     'They then proceeded to the town of Tulan, where they\n     received their gods.\n\n     'And when all the tribes were there gathered together, their\n     speech was changed, and they did not understand each other\n     after they arrived at Tulan. It was there that they\n     separated, and some went to the East, others came here. Even\n     the language of the four ancestors of the human race became\n     different. \"Alas,\" they said, \"we have left our language.\n     How has this happened? We are ruined! How could we have been\n     led into error? We had but one language when we came to\n     Tulan; our form of worship was but one. What we have done is\n     not good,\" replied all the tribes in the woods and under the\n     lianas.'\n\nThe rest of the work, which consists altogether of four books, is\ntaken up with an account of the migrations of the tribes from the\nEast, and their various settlements. The four ancestors of the race\nseem to have had a long life, and when at last they came to die, they\ndisappeared in a mysterious manner, and left to their sons what is\ncalled the Hidden Majesty, which was never to be opened by human\nhands. What it was we do not know. There are many subjects of interest\nin the chapters which follow, only we must not look there for history,\nalthough the author evidently accepts as truly historical what he\ntells us about the successive generations of kings. But when he brings\nus down at last, after sundry migrations, wars, and rebellions, to the\narrival of the Castilians, we find that between the first four\nancestors of the human or of the Quiche race and the last of their\nroyal dynasties, there intervene only fourteen generations, and the\nauthor, whoever he was, ends with the confession:\n\n'This is all that remains of the existence of Quiche; for it is\nimpossible to see the book in which formerly the kings could read\neverything, as it has disappeared. It is over with all those of\nQuiche! It is now called Santa-Cruz!'\n\n_March, 1862._\n\n\n\n\nXV.\n\nSEMITIC MONOTHEISM.[100]\n\n\nA work such as M. Renan's 'Histoire Generale et Systeme Compare des\nLangues Semitiques' can only be reviewed chapter by chapter. It\ncontains a survey not only, as its title would lead us to suppose, of\nthe Semitic languages, but of the Semitic languages and nations; and,\nconsidering that the whole history of the civilised world has hitherto\nbeen acted by two races only, the Semitic and the Aryan, with\noccasional interruptions produced by the inroads of the Turanian race,\nM. Renan's work comprehends in reality half of the history of the\nancient world. We have received as yet the first volume only of this\nimportant work, and before the author had time to finish the second,\nhe was called upon to publish a second edition of the first, which\nappeared in 1858, with important additions and alterations.\n\n[Footnote 100: 'Histoire Generale et Systeme Compare des Langues\nSemitiques.' Par Ernest Renan, Membre de l'Institut. Seconde edition,\nParis, 1858.\n\n'Nouvelles Considerations sur le Caractere General des Peuples\nSemitiques, et en particulier sur leur Tendance au Monotheisme,' Par\nErnest Renan. Paris, 1859.]\n\nIn writing the history of the Semitic race it is necessary to lay down\ncertain general characteristics common to all the members of that\nrace, before we can speak of nations so widely separated from each\nother as the Jews, the Babylonians, Phenicians, Carthaginians, and\nArabs, as one race or family. The most important bond which binds\nthese scattered tribes together into one ideal whole is to be found in\ntheir language. There can be as little doubt that the dialects of all\nthe Semitic nations are derived from one common type as there is about\nthe derivation of French, Spanish, and Italian from Latin, or of\nLatin, Greek, German, Celtic, Slavonic, and Sanskrit from the\nprimitive idiom of the ancestors of the Aryan race. The evidence of\nlanguage would by itself be quite sufficient to establish the fact\nthat the Semitic nations descended from common ancestors, and\nconstitute what, in the science of language, may be called a distinct\nrace. But M. Renan was not satisfied with this single criterion of the\nrelationship of the Semitic tribes, and he has endeavoured to draw,\npartly from his own observations, partly from the suggestions of other\nscholars, such as Ewald and Lassen, a more complete portrait of the\nSemitic man. This was no easy task. It was like drawing the portrait\nof a whole family, omitting all that is peculiar to each individual\nmember, and yet preserving the features which, constitute the general\nfamily likeness. The result has been what might be expected. Critics\nmost familiar with one or the other branch of the Semitic family have\neach and all protested that they can see no likeness in the portrait.\nIt seems to some to contain features which it ought not to contain,\nwhereas others miss the very expression which appears to them most\nstriking.\n\nThe following is a short abstract of what M. Renan considers the\nsalient points in the Semitic character:\n\n'Their character,' he says, 'is religious rather than political, and\nthe mainspring of their religion is the conception of the unity of\nGod. Their religious phraseology is simple, and free from mythological\nelements. Their religious feelings are strong, exclusive, intolerant,\nand sustained by a fervour which finds its peculiar expression in\nprophetic visions. Compared to the Aryan nations, they are found\ndeficient in scientific and philosophical originality. Their poetry is\nchiefly subjective or lyrical, and we look in vain among their poets\nfor excellence in epic and dramatic compositions. Painting and the\nplastic arts have never arrived at a higher than the decorative stage.\nTheir political life has remained patriarchal and despotic, and their\ninability to organise on a large scale has deprived them of the means\nof military success. Perhaps the most general feature of their\ncharacter is a negative one,--their inability to perceive the general\nand the abstract, whether in thought, language, religion, poetry, or\npolitics; and, on the other hand, a strong attraction towards the\nindividual and personal, which makes them monotheistic in religion,\nlyrical in poetry, monarchical in politics, abrupt in style, and\nimpractical for speculation.'\n\nOne cannot look at this bold and rapid outline of the Semitic\ncharacter without perceiving how many points it contains which are\nopen to doubt and discussion. We shall confine our remarks to one\npoint, which, in our mind, and, as far as we can see, in M. Renan's\nmind likewise, is the most important of all--namely, the supposed\nmonotheistic tendency of the Semitic race. M. Renan asserts that this\ntendency belongs to the race by instinct,--that it forms the rule, not\nthe exception; and he seems to imply that without it the human race\nwould never have arrived at the knowledge or worship of the One God.\n\nIf such a remark had been made fifty years ago, it would have roused\nlittle or no opposition. 'Semitic' was then used in a more restricted\nsense, and hardly comprehended more than the Jews and Arabs. Of this\nsmall group of people it might well have been said, with such\nlimitations as are tacitly implied in every general proposition on the\ncharacter of individuals or nations, that the work set apart for them\nby a Divine Providence in the history of the world was the preaching\nof a belief in one God. Three religions have been founded by members\nof that more circumscribed Semitic family--the Jewish, the Christian,\nthe Mohammedan; and all three proclaim, with the strongest accent, the\ndoctrine that there is but one God.\n\nOf late, however, not only have the limits of the Semitic family been\nconsiderably extended, so as to embrace several nations notorious for\ntheir idolatrous worship, but the history of the Jewish and Arab\ntribes has been explored so much more fully, that even there traces of\na wide-spread tendency to polytheism have come to light.\n\nThe Semitic family is divided by M. Renan into two great branches,\ndiffering from each other in the form of their monotheistic belief,\nyet both, according to their historian, imbued from the beginning with\nthe instinctive faith in one God:\n\n1. The nomad branch, consisting of Arabs, Hebrews, and the\nneighbouring tribes of Palestine, commonly called the descendants of\nTerah; and\n\n2. The political branch, including the nations of Phenicia, of Syria,\nMesopotamia, and Yemen.\n\nCan it be said that all these nations, comprising the worshippers of\nElohim, Jehovah, Sabaoth, Moloch, Nisroch, Rimmon, Nebo, Dagon,\nAshtaroth, Baal or Bel, Baal-peor, Baal-zebub, Chemosh, Milcom,\nAdrammelech, Annamelech, Nibhaz and Tartak, Ashima, Nergal,\nSuccoth-benoth, the Sun, Moon, planets, and all the host of heaven,\nwere endowed with a monotheistic instinct? M. Renan admits that\nmonotheism has always had its principal bulwark in the nomadic branch,\nbut he maintains that it has by no means been so unknown among the\nmembers of the political branch as is commonly supposed. But where are\nthe criteria by which, in the same manner as their dialects, the\nreligions of the Semitic races could be distinguished from the\nreligions of the Aryan and Turanian races? We can recognise any\nSemitic dialect by the triliteral character of its roots. Is it\npossible to discover similar radical elements in all the forms of\nfaith, primary or secondary, primitive or derivative, of the Semitic\ntribes? M. Renan thinks that it is. He imagines that he hears the\nkey-note of a pure monotheism through all the wild shoutings of the\npriests of Baal and other Semitic idols, and he denies the presence of\nthat key-note in any of the religious systems of the Aryan nations,\nwhether Greeks or Romans, Germans or Celts, Hindus or Persians. Such\nan assertion could not but rouse considerable opposition, and so\nstrong seems to have been the remonstrances addressed to M. Renan by\nseveral of his colleagues in the French Institute that, without\nawaiting the publication of the second volume of his great work, he\nhas thought it right to publish part of it as a separate pamphlet. In\nhis 'Nouvelles Considerations sur le Caractere General des Peuples\nSemitiques, et en particulier sur leur Tendance au Monotheisme,' he\nendeavours to silence the objections raised against the leading idea\nof his history of the Semitic race. It is an essay which exhibits not\nonly the comprehensive knowledge of the scholar, but the warmth and\nalacrity of the advocate. With M. Renan the monotheistic character of\nthe descendants of Shem is not only a scientific tenet, but a moral\nconviction. He wishes that his whole work should stand or fall with\nthis thesis, and it becomes, therefore, all the more the duty of the\ncritic, to inquire whether the arguments which he brings forward in\nsupport of his favourite idea are valid or not.\n\nIt is but fair to M. Renan that, in examining his statements, we\nshould pay particular attention to any slight modifications which he\nmay himself have adopted in his last memoir. In his history he asserts\nwith great confidence, and somewhat broadly, that 'le monotheisme\nresume et explique tous les caracteres de la race Semitique.' In his\nlater pamphlet he is more captious. As an experienced pleader he is\nready to make many concessions in order to gain all the more readily\nour assent to his general proposition. He points out himself with\ngreat candour the weaker points of his argument, though, of course,\nonly in order to return with unabated courage to his first\nposition,--that of all the races of mankind the Semitic race alone was\nendowed with the instinct of monotheism. As it is impossible to deny\nthe fact that the Semitic nations, in spite of this supposed\nmonotheistic instinct, were frequently addicted to the most degraded\nforms of a polytheistic idolatry, and that even the Jews, the most\nmonotheistic of all, frequently provoked the anger of the Lord by\nburning incense to other gods, M. Renan remarks that when he speaks of\na nation in general he only speaks of the intellectual aristocracy of\nthat nation. He appeals in self-defence to the manner in which\nhistorians lay down the character of modern nations. 'The French,' he\nsays, 'are repeatedly called \"_une nation spirituelle_,\" and yet no\none would wish to assert either that every Frenchman is _spirituel_,\nor that no one could be _spirituel_ who is not a Frenchman.' Now, here\nwe may grant to M. Renan that if we speak of '_esprit_' we naturally\nthink of the intellectual minority only, and not of the whole bulk of\na nation; but if we speak of religion, the case is different. If we\nsay that the French believe in one God only, or that they are\nChristians, we speak not only of the intellectual aristocracy of\nFrance but of every man, woman, and child born and bred in France.\nEven if we say that the French are Roman Catholics, we do so only\nbecause we know that there is a decided majority in France in favour\nof the unreformed system of Christianity. But if, because some of the\nmost distinguished writers of France have paraded their contempt for\nall religious dogmas, we were to say broadly that the French are a\nnation without religion, we should justly be called to order for\nabusing the legitimate privileges of generalization. The fact that\nAbraham, Moses, Elijah, and Jeremiah were firm believers in one God\ncould not be considered sufficient to support the general proposition\nthat the Jewish nation was monotheistic by instinct. And if we\nremember that among the other Semitic races we should look in vain for\neven four such names, the case would seem to be desperate to any one\nbut M. Renan.\n\nWe cannot believe that M. Renan would be satisfied with the admission\nthat there had been among the Jews a few leading men who believed in\none God, or that the existence of but one God was an article of faith\nnot quite unknown among the other Semitic races; yet he has hardly\nproved more. He has collected, with great learning and ingenuity, all\ntraces of monotheism in the annals of the Semitic nations; but he has\ntaken no pains to discover the traces of polytheism, whether faint or\ndistinct, which are disclosed in the same annals. In acting the part\nof an advocate he has for a time divested himself of the nobler\ncharacter of the historian.\n\nIf M. Renan had looked with equal zeal for the scattered vestiges both\nof a monotheistic and of a polytheistic worship, he would have drawn,\nperhaps, a less striking, but we believe a more faithful, portrait of\nthe Semitic man. We may accept all the facts of M. Renan, for his\nfacts are almost always to be trusted; but we cannot accept his\nconclusions, because they would be in contradiction to other facts\nwhich M. Renan places too much in the background, or ignores\naltogether. Besides, there is something in the very conclusions to\nwhich he is driven by his too partial evidence which jars on our ears,\nand betrays a want of harmony in the premises on which he builds.\nTaking his stand on the fact that the Jewish race was the first of all\nthe nations of the world to arrive at the knowledge of one God, M.\nRenan proceeds to argue that, if their monotheism had been the result\nof a persevering mental effort--if it had been a discovery like the\nphilosophical or scientific discoveries of the Greeks, it would be\nnecessary to admit that the Jews surpassed all other nations of the\nworld in intellect and vigour of speculation. This, he admits, is\ncontrary to fact:\n\n     'Apart la superiorite de son culte, le peuple juif n'en a\n     aucune autre; c'est un des peuples les moins doues pour la\n     science et la philosophie parmi les peuples de l'antiquite;\n     il n'a une grande position ni politique ni militaire. Ses\n     institutions sont purement conservatrices; les prophetes,\n     qui representent excellemment son genie, sont des hommes\n     essentiellement reactionnaires, se reportant toujours vers\n     un ideal anterieur. Comment expliquer, au sein d'une societe\n     aussi etroite et aussi peu developpee, une revolution\n     d'idees qu'Athenes et Alexandrie n'ont pas reussi a\n     accomplir?'\n\nM. Renan then defines the monotheism of the Jews, and of the Semitic\nnations in general, as the result of a low, rather than of a high\nstate of intellectual cultivation: 'Il s'en faut,' he writes (p. 40),\n'que le monotheisme soit le produit d'une race qui a des idees\nexaltees en fait de religion; c'est en realite le fruit d'une race qui\na peu de besoins religieux. C'est comme _minimum_ de religion, en fait\nde dogmes et en fait de pratiques exterieures, que le monotheisme est\nsurtout accommode aux besoins des populations nomades.'\n\nBut even this _minimum_ of religious reflection which is required,\naccording to M. Renan, for the perception of the unity of God, he\ngrudges to the Semitic nations, and he is driven in the end (p. 73)\nto explain the Semitic Monotheism as the result of a religious\ninstinct, analogous to the instinct which led each race to the\nformation of its own language.\n\nHere we miss the usual clearness and precision which distinguish most\nof M. Renan's works. It is always dangerous to transfer expressions\nfrom one branch of knowledge to another. The word 'instinct' has its\nlegitimate application in natural history, where it is used of the\nunconscious acts of unconscious beings. We say that birds build their\nnests by instinct, that fishes swim by instinct, that cats catch mice\nby instinct; and, though no natural philosopher has yet explained what\ninstinct is, yet we accept the term as a conventional expression for\nan unknown power working in the animal world.\n\nIf we transfer this word to the unconscious acts of conscious beings,\nwe must necessarily alter its definition. We may speak of an\ninstinctive motion of the arm, but we only mean a motion which has\nbecome so habitual as to require no longer any special effort of the\nwill.\n\nIf, however, we transfer the word to the conscious thoughts of\nconscious beings, we strain the word beyond its natural capacities, we\nuse it in order to avoid other terms which would commit us to the\nadmission either of innate ideas or inspired truths. We use a word in\norder to avoid a definition. It may sound more scientific to speak of\na monotheistic instinct rather than of the inborn image or the\nrevealed truth of the One living God; but is instinct less mysterious\nthan revelation? Can there be an instinct without an instigation or an\ninstigator? And whose hand was it that instigated the Semitic mind to\nthe worship of one God? Could the same hand have instigated the Aryan\nmind to the worship of many gods? Could the monotheistic instinct of\nthe Semitic race, if an instinct, have been so frequently obscured, or\nthe polytheistic instinct of the Aryan race, if an instinct, so\ncompletely annihilated, as to allow the Jews to worship on all the\nhigh places round Jerusalem, and the Greeks and Romans to become\nbelievers in Christ? Fishes never fly, and cats never catch frogs.\nThese are the difficulties into which we are led; and they arise\nsimply and solely from our using words for their sound rather than for\ntheir meaning. We begin by playing with words, but in the end the\nwords will play with us.\n\nThere are, in fact, various kinds of monotheism, and it becomes our\nduty to examine more carefully what they mean and how they arise.\nThere is one kind of monotheism, though it would more properly be\ncalled theism, or henotheism, which forms the birthright of every\nhuman being. What distinguishes man from all other creatures, and not\nonly raises him above the animal world, but removes him altogether\nfrom the confines of a merely natural existence, is the feeling of\nsonship inherent in and inseparable from human nature. That feeling\nmay find expression in a thousand ways, but there breathes through all\nof them the inextinguishable conviction, 'It is He that hath made us,\nand not we ourselves.' That feeling of sonship may with some races\nmanifest itself in fear and trembling, and it may drive whole\ngenerations into religious madness and devil worship. In other\ncountries it may tempt the creature into a fatal familiarity with the\nCreator, and end in an apotheosis of man, or a headlong plunging of\nthe human into the divine. It may take, as with the Jews, the form of\na simple assertion that 'Adam was the son of God,' or it may be\nclothed in the mythological phraseology of the Hindus, that Manu, or\nman, was the descendant of Svayambhu, the Self-existing. But, in some\nform or other, the feeling of dependence on a higher Power breaks\nthrough in all the religions of the world, and explains to us the\nmeaning of St. Paul, 'that God, though in times past He suffered all\nnations to walk in their own ways, nevertheless He left not Himself\nwithout witness, in that He did good and gave us rain from heaven, and\nfruitful seasons, filling our hearts with food and gladness.'\n\nThis primitive intuition of God and the ineradicable feeling of\ndependence on God, could only have been the result of a primitive\nrevelation, in the truest sense of that word. Man, who owed his\nexistence to God, and whose being centred and rested in God, saw and\nfelt God as the only source of his own and of all other existence. By\nthe very act of the creation, God had revealed Himself. There He was,\nmanifested in His works, in all His majesty and power, before the face\nof those to whom He had given eyes to see and ears to hear, and into\nwhose nostrils He had breathed the breath of life, even the Spirit of\nGod.\n\nThis primitive intuition of God, however, was in itself neither\nmonotheistic nor polytheistic, though it might become either,\naccording to the expression which it took in the languages of man. It\nwas this primitive intuition which supplied either the subject or the\npredicate in all the religions of the world, and without it no\nreligion, whether true or false, whether revealed or natural, could\nhave had even its first beginning. It is too often forgotten by those\nwho believe that a polytheistic worship was the most natural\nunfolding of religious life, that polytheism must everywhere have been\npreceded by a more or less conscious theism. In no language does the\nplural exist before the singular. No human mind could have conceived\nthe idea of gods without having previously conceived the idea of a\ngod. It would be, however, quite as great a mistake to imagine,\nbecause the idea of a god must exist previously to that of gods, that\ntherefore a belief in One God preceded everywhere the belief in many\ngods. A belief in God as exclusively One, involves a distinct negation\nof more than one God, and that negation is possible only after the\nconception, whether real or imaginary, of many gods.\n\nThe primitive intuition of the Godhead is neither monotheistic nor\npolytheistic, and it finds its most natural expression in the simplest\nand yet the most important article of faith--that God is God. This\nmust have been the faith of the ancestors of mankind previously to any\ndivision of race or confusion of tongues. It might seem, indeed, as if\nin such a faith the oneness of God, though not expressly asserted, was\nimplied, and that it existed, though latent, in the first revelation\nof God. History, however, proves that the question of oneness was yet\nundecided in that primitive faith, and that the intuition of God was\nnot yet secured against the illusions of a double vision. There are,\nin reality, two kinds of oneness which, when we enter into\nmetaphysical discussions, must be carefully distinguished, and which\nfor practical purposes are well kept separate by the definite and\nindefinite articles. There is one kind of oneness which does not\nexclude the idea of plurality; there is another which does. When we\nsay that Cromwell was a Protector of England, we do not assert that he\nwas the only protector. But if we say that he was the Protector of\nEngland, it is understood that he was the only man who enjoyed that\ntitle. If, therefore, an expression had been given to that primitive\nintuition of the Deity, which is the mainspring of all later religion,\nit would have been--'There is a God,' but not yet 'There is but \"One\nGod.\"' The latter form of faith, the belief in One God, is properly\ncalled monotheism, whereas the term of henotheism would best express\nthe faith in a single god.\n\nWe must bear in mind that we are here speaking of a period in the\nhistory of mankind when, together with the awakening of ideas, the\nfirst attempts only were being made at expressing the simplest\nconceptions by means of a language most simple, most sensuous, and\nmost unwieldy. There was as yet no word sufficiently reduced by the\nwear and tear of thought to serve as an adequate expression for the\nabstract idea of an immaterial and supernatural Being. There were\nwords for walking and shouting, for cutting and burning, for dog and\ncow, for house and wall, for sun and moon, for day and night. Every\nobject was called by some quality which had struck the eye as most\npeculiar and characteristic. But what quality should be predicated of\nthat Being of which man knew as yet nothing but its existence?\nLanguage possessed as yet no auxiliary verbs. The very idea of being\nwithout the attributes of quality or action, had never entered into\nthe human mind. How then was that Being to be called which had\nrevealed its existence, and continued to make itself felt by\neverything that most powerfully impressed the awakening mind, but\nwhich as yet was known only like a subterraneous spring by the waters\nwhich it poured forth with inexhaustible strength? When storm and\nlightning drove a father with his helpless family to seek refuge in\nthe forests, and the fall of mighty trees crushed at his side those\nwho were most dear to him, there were, no doubt, feelings of terror\nand awe, of helplessness and dependence, in the human heart which\nburst forth in a shriek for pity or help from the only Being that\ncould command the storm. But there was no name by which He could be\ncalled. There might be names for the storm-wind and the thunderbolt,\nbut these were not the names applicable to Him that rideth upon the\nheavens of heavens, which were of old. Again, when after a wild and\ntearful night the sun dawned in the morning, smiling on man--when\nafter a dreary and deathlike winter spring came again with its\nsunshine and flowers, there were feelings of joy and gratitude, of\nlove and adoration in the heart of every human being; but though there\nwere names for the sun and the spring, for the bright sky and the\nbrilliant dawn, there was no word by which to call the source of all\nthis gladness, the giver of light and life.\n\nAt the time when we may suppose that the first attempts at finding a\nname for God were made, the divergence of the languages of mankind had\ncommenced. We cannot dwell here on the causes which led to the\nmultiplicity of human speech; but whether we look on the confusion of\ntongues as a natural or supernatural event, it was an event which the\nscience of language has proved to have been inevitable. The ancestors\nof the Semitic and the Aryan nations had long become unintelligible to\neach other in their conversations on the most ordinary topics, when\nthey each in their own way began to look for a proper name for God.\nNow one of the most striking differences between the Aryan and the\nSemitic forms of speech was this:--In the Semitic languages the roots\nexpressive of the predicates which were to serve as the proper names\nof any subjects, remained so distinct within the body of a word, that\nthose who used the word were unable to forget its predicative meaning,\nand retained in most cases a distinct consciousness of its appellative\npower. In the Aryan languages, on the contrary, the significative\nelement, or the root of a word, was apt to become so completely\nabsorbed by the derivative elements, whether prefixes or suffixes,\nthat most substantives ceased almost immediately to be appellative,\nand were changed into mere names or proper names. What we mean can\nbest be illustrated by the fact that the dictionaries of Semitic\nlanguages are mostly arranged according to their roots. When we wish\nto find the meaning of a word in Hebrew or Arabic we first look for\nits root, whether triliteral or biliteral, and then look in the\ndictionary for that root and its derivatives. In the Aryan languages,\non the contrary, such an arrangement would be extremely inconvenient.\nIn many words it is impossible to detect the radical element. In\nothers, after the root is discovered, we find that it has not given\nbirth to any other derivatives which would throw their converging rays\nof light on its radical meaning. In other cases, again, such seems to\nhave been the boldness of the original name-giver that we can hardly\nenter into the idiosyncrasy which assigned such a name to such an\nobject.\n\nThis peculiarity of the Semitic and Aryan languages must have had the\ngreatest influence on the formation of their religious phraseology.\nThe Semitic man would call on God in adjectives only, or in words\nwhich always conveyed a predicative meaning. Every one of his words\nwas more or less predicative, and he was therefore restricted in his\nchoice to such words as expressed some one or other of the abstract\nqualities of the Deity. The Aryan man was less fettered in his choice.\nLet us take an instance. Being startled by the sound of thunder, he\nwould at first express his impression by the single phrase, It\nthunders,--[Greek: brouta]. Here the idea of God is understood rather\nthan expressed, very much in the same manner as the Semitic proper\nnames Zabd (present), Abd (servant), Aus (present), are habitually\nused for Zabd-allah, Abd-allah, Aus-allah,--the servant of God, the\ngift of God. It would be more in accordance with the feelings and\nthoughts of those who first used these so-called impersonal verbs to\ntranslate them by He thunders, He rains, He snows. Afterwards, instead\nof the simple impersonal verb He thunders, another expression\nnaturally suggested itself. The thunder came from the sky, the sky was\nfrequently called Dyaus (the bright one), in Greek [Greek: Zeus]; and\nthough it was not the bright sky which thundered, but the dark, yet\nDyaus had already ceased to be an expressive predicate, it had become\na traditional name, and hence there was nothing to prevent an Aryan\nman from saying Dyaus, or the sky thunders, in Greek [Greek: Zeus\nbrouta]. Let us here mark the almost irresistible influence of\nlanguage on the mind. The word Dyaus, which at first meant bright, had\nlost its radical meaning, and now meant simply sky. It then entered\ninto a new stage. The idea which had first been expressed by the\npronoun or the termination of the third person, He thunders, was taken\nup into the word Dyaus, or sky. He thunders, and Dyaus thunders,\nbecame synonymous expressions, and by the mere habit of speech He\nbecame Dyaus, and Dyaus became He. Henceforth Dyaus remained as an\nappellative of that unseen though ever present Power, which had\nrevealed its existence to man from the beginning, but which remained\nwithout a name long after every beast of the field and every fowl of\nthe air had been named by Adam.\n\nNow, what happened in this instance with the name of Dyaus, happened\nagain and again with other names. When men felt the presence of God in\nthe great and strong wind, in the earthquake, or the fire, they said\nat first, He storms, He shakes, He burns. But they likewise said, the\nstorm (Marut) blows, the fire (Agni) burns, the subterraneous fire\n(Vulcanus) upheaves the earth. And after a time the result was the\nsame as before, and the words meaning originally wind or fire were\nused, under certain restrictions, as names of the unknown God. As long\nas all these names were remembered as mere names or attributes of one\nand the same Divine Power, there was as yet no polytheism, though, no\ndoubt, every new name threatened to obscure more and more the\nprimitive intuition of God. At first, the names of God, like fetishes\nor statues, were honest attempts at expressing or representing an idea\nwhich could never find an adequate expression or representation. But\nthe eidolon, or likeness, became an idol; the nomen, or name, lapsed\ninto a numen, or demon, as soon as they were drawn away from their\noriginal intention. If the Greeks had remembered that Zeus was but a\nname or symbol of the Deity, there would have been no more harm in\ncalling God by that name than by any other. If they had remembered\nthat Kronos, and Uranos, and Apollon were all but so many attempts at\nnaming the various sides, or manifestations, or aspects, or persons of\nthe Deity, they might have used these names in the hours of their\nvarious needs, just as the Jews called on Jehovah, Elohim, and\nSabaoth, or as Roman Catholics implore the help of Nunziata, Dolores,\nand Notre-Dame-de-Grace.\n\nWhat, then, is the difference between the Aryan and Semitic\nnomenclature for the Deity? Why are we told that the pious invocations\nof the Aryan world turned into a blasphemous mocking of the Deity,\nwhereas the Semitic nations are supposed to have found from the first\nthe true name of God? Before we look anywhere else for an answer to\nthe question, we must look to language itself, and here we see that\nthe Semitic dialects could never, by any possibility, have produced\nsuch names as the Sanskrit Dyaus (Zeus), Varu_n_a (Uranos), Marut\n(Storm, Mars), or Ushas (Eos). They had no doubt names for the bright\nsky, for the tent of heaven, and for the dawn. But these names were so\ndistinctly felt as appellatives, that they could never be thought of\nas proper names, whether as names of the Deity, or as names of\ndeities. This peculiarity has been illustrated with great skill by M.\nRenan. We differ from him when he tries to explain the difference\nbetween the mythological phraseology of the Aryan and the theological\nphraseology of the Semitic races, by assigning to each a peculiar\ntheological instinct. We cannot, in fact, see how the admission of\nsuch an instinct, i. e. of an unknown and incomprehensible power,\nhelps us in any way whatsoever to comprehend this curious mental\nprocess. His problem, however, is exactly the same as ours, and it\nwould be impossible to state that problem in a more telling manner\nthan he has done.\n\n'The rain,' he says (p. 79), 'is represented, in all the primitive\nmythologies of the Aryan race, as the fruit of the embraces of Heaven\nand Earth.' 'The bright sky,' says AEschylus, in a passage which one\nmight suppose was taken from the Vedas, 'loves to penetrate the earth;\nthe earth on her part aspires to the heavenly marriage. Rain falling\nfrom the loving sky impregnates the earth, and she produces for\nmortals pastures of the flocks and the gifts of Ceres.' In the Book of\nJob,[101] on the contrary, it is God who tears open the waterskins of\nHeaven (xxxviii. 37), who opens the courses for the floods (ibid. 25),\nwho engenders the drops of dew (ibid. 28):\n\n    'He draws towards Him the mists from the waters,\n    Which pour down as rain, and form their vapours.\n    Afterwards the clouds spread them out,\n    They fall as drops on the crowds of men.' (Job xxxvi. 27, 28.)\n\n[Footnote 101: We give the extracts according to M. Renan's\ntranslation of the Book of Job (Paris, 1859, Michel Levy).]\n\n    'He charges the night with damp vapours,\n    He drives before Him the thunder-bearing cloud.\n    It is driven to one side or the other by His command.\n    To execute all that He ordains\n    On the face of the universe,\n    Whether it be to punish His creatures\n    Or to make thereof a proof of His mercy,' (Job xxxvii. 11-13.)\n\nOr, again, Proverbs xxx. 4:\n\n     'Who hath gathered the wind in His fists? Who hath bound the\n     waters in a garment? Who hath established all the ends of\n     the earth? What is His name, and what is His Son's name, if\n     thou canst tell?'\n\nIt has been shown by ample evidence from the Rig-veda how many mythes\nwere suggested to the Aryan world by various names of the dawn, the\nday-spring of life. The language of the ancient Aryans of India had\nthrown out many names for that heavenly apparition, and every name, as\nit ceased to be understood, became, like a decaying seed, the germ of\nan abundant growth of mythe and legend. Why should not the same have\nhappened to the Semitic names for the dawn? Simply and solely because\nthe Semitic words had no tendency to phonetic corruption; simply and\nsolely because they continued to be felt as appellatives, and would\ninevitably have defeated every attempt at mythological phraseology\nsuch as we find in India and Greece. When the dawn is mentioned in the\nBook of Job (ix. 11), it is God 'who commandeth the sun and it riseth\nnot, and sealeth up the stars.' It is His power which causeth the\nday-spring to know its place, that it might take hold of the ends of\nthe earth, that the wicked might be shaken out of it (Job xxxviii. 12,\n13; Renan, 'Livre de Job,' pref. 71). Shahar, the dawn, never becomes\nan independent agent; she is never spoken of as Eos rising from the\nbed of her husband Tithonos (the setting sun), solely and simply\nbecause the word retained its power as an appellative, and thus could\nnot enter into any mythological metamorphosis.\n\nEven in Greece there are certain words which have remained so pellucid\nas to prove unfit for mythological refraction. Selene in Greek is so\nclearly the moon that her name would pierce through the darkest clouds\nof mythe and fable. Call her Hecate, and she will bear any disguise,\nhowever fanciful. It is the same with the Latin Luna. She is too\nclearly the moon to be mistaken for anything else, but call her\nLucina, and she will readily enter into various mythological phases.\nIf, then, the names of sun and moon, of thunder and lightning, of\nlight and day, of night and dawn could not yield to the Semitic races\nfit appellatives for the Deity, where were they to be found? If the\nnames of Heaven or Earth jarred on their ears as names unfit for the\nCreator, where could they find more appropriate terms? They would not\nhave objected to real names such as Jupiter Optimus Maximus, or\n[Greek: Zeus kydistos megistos], if such words could have been framed\nin their dialects, and the names of Jupiter and Zeus could have been\nso ground down as to become synonymous with the general term for\n'God.' Not even the Jews could have given a more exalted definition of\nthe Deity than that of Optimus Maximus--the Best and the Greatest;\nand their very name of God, Jehovah, is generally supposed to mean no\nmore than what the Peleiades of Dodona said of Zeus, [Greek: Zeus en,\nZeus estin, Zeus essetai o megale Zeu], 'He was, He is, He will be, Oh\ngreat Zeus!' Not being able to form such substantives as Dyaus, or\nVaru_n_a, or Indra, the descendants of Shem fixed on the predicates\nwhich in the Aryan prayers follow the name of the Deity, and called\nHim the Best and the Greatest, the Lord and King. If we examine the\nnumerous names of the Deity in the Semitic dialects we find that they\nare all adjectives, expressive of moral qualities. There is El,\nstrong; Bel or Baal, Lord; Beel-samin, Lord of Heaven; Adonis (in\nPhenicia), Lord; Marnas (at Gaza), our Lord; Shet, Master, afterwards\na demon; Moloch, Milcom, Malika, King; Eliun, the Highest (the God of\nMelchisedek); Ram and Rimmon, the Exalted; and many more names, all\noriginally adjectives and expressive of certain general qualities of\nthe Deity, but all raised by one or the other of the Semitic tribes to\nbe the names of God or of that idea which the first breath of life,\nthe first sight of this world, the first consciousness of existence,\nhad for ever impressed and implanted in the human mind.\n\nBut do these names prove that the people who invented them had a clear\nand settled idea of the unity of the Deity? Do we not find among the\nAryan nations that the same superlatives, the same names of Lord and\nKing, of Master and Father, are used when the human mind is brought\nface to face with the Divine, and the human heart pours out in prayer\nand thanksgiving the feelings inspired by the presence of God?\nBrahman, in Sanskrit, meant originally Power, the same as El. It\nresisted for a long time the mythological contagion, but at last it\nyielded like all other names of God, and became the name of one God.\nBy the first man who formed or fixed these names, Brahman, like El,\nand like every name of God, was meant, no doubt, as the best\nexpression that could be found for the image reflected from the\nCreator upon the mind of the creature. But in none of these words can\nwe see any decided proof that those who framed them had arrived at the\nclear perception of One God, and were thus secured against the danger\nof polytheism. Like Dyaus, like Indra, like Brahman, Baal and El and\nMoloch were names of God, but not yet of the One God.\n\nAnd we have only to follow the history of these Semitic names in order\nto see that, in spite of their superlative meaning, they proved no\nstronger bulwark against polytheism than the Latin Optimus Maximus.\nThe very names which we saw explained before as meaning the Highest,\nthe Lord, the Master, are represented in the Phenician mythology as\nstanding to each other in the relation of Father and Son. (Renan, p.\n60.) There is hardly one single Semitic tribe which did not at times\nforget the original meaning of the names by which they called on God.\nIf the Jews had remembered the meaning of El, the Omnipotent, they\ncould not have worshipped Baal, the Lord, as different from El. But as\nthe Aryan tribes bartered the names of their gods, and were glad to\nadd the worship of Zeus to that of Uranos, the worship of Apollon to\nthat of Zeus, the worship of Hermes to that of Apollon, the Semitic\nnations likewise were ready to try the gods of their neighbours. If\nthere had been in the Semitic race a truly monotheistic instinct, the\nhistory of those nations would become perfectly unintelligible.\nNothing is more difficult to overcome than an instinct: naturam furca\nexpellas, tamen usque recurret. But the history even of the Jews is\nmade up of an almost uninterrupted series of relapses into polytheism.\nLet us admit, on the contrary, that God had in the beginning revealed\nHimself the same to the ancestors of the whole human race. Let us then\nobserve the natural divergence of the languages of man, and consider\nthe peculiar difficulties that had to be overcome in framing names for\nGod, and the peculiar manner in which they were overcome in the\nSemitic and Aryan languages, and everything that follows will be\nintelligible. If we consider the abundance of synonymes into which all\nancient languages burst out at their first starting--if we remember\nthat there were hundreds of names for the earth and the sky, the sun\nand the moon, we shall not be surprised at meeting with more than one\nname for God both among the Semitic and the Aryan nations. If we\nconsider how easily the radical or significative elements of words\nwere absorbed and obscured in the Aryan, and how they stood out in\nbold relief in the Semitic languages, we shall appreciate the\ndifficulty which the Shemites experienced in framing any name that\nshould not seem to take too one-sided a view of the Deity by\npredicating but one quality, whether strength, dominion, or majesty;\nand we shall equally perceive the snare which their very language laid\nfor the Aryan nations, by supplying them with a number of words which,\nthough they seemed harmless as meaning nothing except what by\ntradition or definition they were made to mean, yet were full of\nmischief owing to the recollections which, at any time, they might\nrevive. Dyaus in itself was as good a name as any for God, and in some\nrespects more appropriate than its derivative deva, the Latin deus,\nwhich the Romance nations still use without meaning any harm. But\nDyaus had meant sky for too long a time to become entirely divested of\nall the old mythes or sayings which were true of Dyaus, the sky, but\ncould only be retained as fables if transferred to Dyaus, God. Dyaus,\nthe Bright, might be called the husband of the earth; but, when the\nsame mythe was repeated of Zeus, the god, then Zeus became the husband\nof Demeter, Demeter became a goddess, a daughter sprang from their\nunion, and all the sluices of mythological madness were opened. There\nwere a few men, no doubt, at all times, who saw through this\nmythological phraseology, who called on God, though they called him\nZeus, or Dyaus, or Jupiter. Xenophanes, one of the earliest Greek\nheretics, boldly maintained that there was but 'one God, and that He\nwas not like unto men, either in body or mind.'[102] A poet in the\nVeda asserts distinctly, 'They call Him Indra, Mitra, Varu_n_a, Agni;\nthen He is the well-winged heavenly Garutmat; that which is One the\nwise call it many ways--they call it Agni, Yama, Matari_s_van.'[103]\n\n[Footnote 102: Xenophanes, about contemporary with Cyrus, as quoted by\nClemens Alex., Strom. v, p. 601,--[Greek: eis theos en te theoisi kai\nanthropoisi megistos, oute demas thnetoisin homoiios oude noema].]\n\n[Footnote 103: 'History of Ancient Sanskrit Literature,' by M. M., p.\n567.]\n\nBut, on the whole, the charm of mythology prevailed among the Aryan\nnations, and a return to the primitive intuition of God and a total\nnegation of all gods, wore rendered more difficult to the Aryan than\nto the Semitic man. The Semitic man had hardly ever to resist the\nallurements of mythology. The names with which he invoked the Deity\ndid not trick him by their equivocal character. Nevertheless, these\nSemitic names, too, though predicative in the beginning, became\nsubjective, and from being the various names of One Being, lapsed into\nnames of various beings. Hence arose a danger which threatened\nwell-nigh to bar to the Semitic race the approach to the conception\nand worship of the One God.\n\nNowhere can we see this danger more clearly than in the history of the\nJews. The Jews had, no doubt, preserved, from the beginning the idea\nof God, and their names of God contained nothing but what might by\nright be ascribed to Him. They worshipped a single God, and, whenever\nthey fell into idolatry, they felt that they had fallen away from God.\nBut that God, under whatever name they invoked Him, was especially\ntheir God, their own national God, and His existence did not exclude\nthe existence of other gods or demons. Of the ancestors of Abraham and\nNachor, even of their father Terah, we know that in old time, when\nthey dwelt on the other side of the flood, they served other gods\n(Joshua xxiv. 2). At the time of Joshua these gods were not yet\nforgotten, and instead of denying their existence altogether, Joshua\nonly exhorts the people to put away the gods which their fathers\nserved on the other side of the flood and in Egypt, and to serve the\nLord: 'Choose ye this day,' he says, 'whom you will serve; whether the\ngods which your fathers served that were on the other side of the\nflood, or the gods of the Amorites, in whose land ye dwell; but as\nfor me and my house, we will serve the Lord.'\n\nSuch a speech, exhorting the people to make their choice between\nvarious gods, would have been unmeaning if addressed to a nation which\nhad once conceived the unity of the Godhead. Even images of the gods\nwere not unknown to the family of Abraham, for, though we know nothing\nof the exact form of the teraphim, or images which Rachel stole from\nher father, certain it is that Laban calls them his gods (Genesis\nxxxi. 19, 30). But what is much more significant than these traces of\npolytheism and idolatry is the hesitating tone in which some of the\nearly patriarchs speak of their God. When Jacob flees before Esau into\nPadan-Aram and awakes from his vision at Bethel, he does not profess\nhis faith in the One God, but he bargains, and says, 'If God will be\nwith me, and will keep me in this way that I go, and will give me\nbread to eat, and raiment to put on, so that I come again to my\nfather's house in peace, then shall the Lord be my God: and this\nstone, which I have set for a pillar, shall be God's house: and of all\nthat thou shalt give me, I will surely give the tenth unto thee'\n(Genesis xxviii. 20-22). Language of this kind evinces not only a\ntemporary want of faith in God, but it shows that the conception of\nGod had not yet acquired that complete universality which alone\ndeserves to be called monotheism, or belief in the One God. To him who\nhas seen God face to face there is no longer any escape or doubt as to\nwho is to be his god; God is his god, whatever befall. But this Jacob\nlearnt not until he had struggled and wrestled with God, and committed\nhimself to His care at the very time when no one else could have\nsaved him. In that struggle Jacob asked for the true name of God, and\nhe learnt from God that His name was secret (Genesis xxxii. 29). After\nthat, his God was no longer one of many gods. His faith was not like\nthe faith of Jethro (Exodus xxvii. 11), the priest of Midian, the\nfather-in-law of Moses, who when he heard of all that God had done for\nMoses acknowledged that God (Jehovah) was greater than all gods\n(Elohim). This is not yet faith in the One God. It is a faith hardly\nabove the faith of the people who were halting between Jehovah and\nBaal, and who only when they saw what the Lord did for Elijah, fell on\ntheir faces and said, 'The Lord He is the God.'\n\nAnd yet this limited faith in Jehovah as the God of the Jews, as a God\nmore powerful than the gods of the heathen, as a God above all gods,\nbetrays itself again and again in the history of the Jews. The idea of\nmany gods is there, and wherever that idea exists, wherever the plural\nof god is used in earnest, there is polytheism. It is not so much the\nnames of Zeus, Hermes, &c., which constitute the polytheism of the\nGreeks; it is the plural [Greek: theoi], gods, which contains the\nfatal spell. We do not know what M. Renan means when he says that\nJehovah with the Jews 'n'est pas le plus grand entre plusieurs dieux;\nc'est le Dieu unique.' It was so with Abraham, it was so after Jacob\nhad been changed into Israel, it was so with Moses, Elijah, and\nJeremiah. But what is the meaning of the very first commandment, 'Thou\nshalt have no other gods before me?' Could this command have been\naddressed to a nation to whom the plural of God was a nonentity? It\nmight be answered that the plural of God was to the Jews as revolting\nas it is to us, that it was revolting to their faith, if not to their\nreason. But how was it that their language tolerated the plural of a\nword which excludes plurality as much as the word for the centre of a\nsphere? No man who had clearly perceived the unity of God, could say\nwith the Psalmist (lxxxvi. 8), 'Among the gods there is none like unto\nThee, O Lord, neither are there any works like unto Thy works.' Though\nthe same poet says, 'Thou art God alone,' he could not have compared\nGod with other gods, if his idea of God had really reached that\nall-embracing character which it had with Abraham, Moses, Elijah, and\nJeremiah. Nor would God have been praised as the 'great king above all\ngods' by a poet in whose eyes the gods of the heathen had been\nrecognised as what they were--mighty shadows, thrown by the mighty\nworks of God, and intercepting for a time the pure light of the\nGodhead.\n\nWe thus arrive at a different conviction from that which M. Renan has\nmade the basis of the history of the Semitic race. We can see nothing\nthat would justify the admission of a monotheistic instinct, granted\nto the Semitic, and withheld from the Aryan race. They both share in\nthe primitive intuition of God, they are both exposed to dangers in\nframing names for God, and they both fall into polytheism. What is\npeculiar to the Aryan race is their mythological phraseology,\nsuperadded to their polytheism; what is peculiar to the Semitic race\nis their belief in a national god--in a god chosen by his people as\nhis people had been chosen by him.\n\nNo doubt, M. Renan might say that we ignored his problem, and that we\nhave not removed the difficulties which drove him to the admission of\na monotheistic instinct. How is the fact to be explained, he might\nask, that the three great religions of the world in which the unity of\nthe Deity forms the key-note, are of Semitic origin, and that the\nAryan nations, wherever they have been brought to a worship of the One\nGod, invoke Him with names borrowed from the Semitic languages?\n\nBut let us look more closely at the facts before we venture on\ntheories. Mohammedanism, no doubt, is a Semitic religion, and its very\ncore is monotheism. But did Mohammed invent monotheism? Did he invent\neven a new name of God? (Renan, p. 23.) Not at all. His object was to\ndestroy the idolatry of the Semitic tribes of Arabia, to dethrone the\nangels, the Jin, the sons and daughters who had been assigned to\nAllah, and to restore the faith of Abraham in one God. (Renan, p. 37.)\n\nAnd how is it with Christianity? Did Christ come to preach a faith in\na new God? Did He or His disciples invent a new name of God? No,\nChrist came not to destroy, but to fulfil; and the God whom He\npreached was the God of Abraham.\n\nAnd who is the God of Jeremiah, of Elijah, and of Moses? We answer\nagain, the God of Abraham.\n\nThus the faith in the One living God, which seemed to require the\nadmission of a monotheistic instinct, grafted in every member of the\nSemitic family, is traced back to one man, to him 'in whom all\nfamilies of the earth shall be blessed' (Genesis xii. 3, Acts iii. 25,\nGalatians iii. 8). If from our earliest childhood we have looked upon\nAbraham, the friend of God, with love and veneration; if our first\nimpressions of a truly god-fearing life were taken from him, who left\nthe land of his fathers to live a stranger in the land whither God\nhad called him, who always listened to the voice of God, whether it\nconveyed to him the promise of a son in his old age, or the command to\nsacrifice that son, his only son Isaac, his venerable figure will\nassume still more majestic proportions when we see in him the\nlife-spring of that faith which was to unite all the nations of the\nearth, and the author of that blessing which was to come on the\nGentiles through Jesus Christ.\n\nAnd if we are asked how this one Abraham possessed not only the\nprimitive intuition of God as He had revealed Himself to all mankind,\nbut passed through the denial of all other gods to the knowledge of\nthe one God, we are content to answer that it was by a special Divine\nRevelation. We do not indulge in theological phraseology, but we mean\nevery word to its fullest extent. The Father of Truth chooses His own\nprophets, and He speaks to them in a voice stronger than the voice of\nthunder. It is the same inner voice through which God speaks to all of\nus. That voice may dwindle away, and become hardly audible; it may\nlose its Divine accent, and sink into the language of worldly\nprudence; but it may also, from time to time, assume its real nature,\nwith the chosen of God, and sound into their ears as a voice from\nHeaven. A 'divine instinct' may sound more scientific, and less\ntheological; but in truth it would neither be an appropriate name for\nwhat is a gift or grace accorded to but few, nor would it be a more\nscientific, i. e. a more intelligible word than 'special revelation.'\n\nThe important point, however, is not whether the faith of Abraham\nshould be called a divine instinct or a revelation; what we wish here\nto insist on is that that instinct, or that revelation, was special,\ngranted to one man, and handed down from him to Jews, Christians, and\nMohammedans, to all who believe in the God of Abraham. Nor was it\ngranted to Abraham entirely as a free gift. Abraham was tried and\ntempted before he was trusted by God. He had to break with the faith\nof his fathers; he had to deny the gods who were worshipped by his\nfriends and neighbours. Like all the friends of God, he had to hear\nhimself called an infidel and atheist, and in our own days he would\nhave been looked upon as a madman for attempting to slay his son. It\nwas through special faith that Abraham received his special\nrevelation, not through instinct, not through abstract meditation, not\nthrough ecstatic visions. We want to know more of that man than we do;\nbut, even with the little we know of him, he stands before us as a\nfigure second only to one in the whole history of the world. We see\nhis zeal for God, but we never see him contentious. Though Melchisedek\nworshipped God under a different name, invoking Him as Eliun, the Most\nHigh, Abraham at once acknowledged in Melchisedek a worshipper and\npriest of the true God, or Elohim, and paid him tithes. In the very\nname of Elohim we seem to trace the conciliatory spirit of Abraham.\nElohim is a plural, though it is followed by the verb in the singular.\nIt is generally said that the genius of the Semitic languages\ncountenances the use of plurals for abstract conceptions, and that\nwhen Jehovah is called Elohim, the plural should be translated by 'the\nDeity.' We do not deny the fact, but we wish for an explanation, and\nan explanation is suggested by the various phases through which, as\nwe saw, the conception of God passed in the ancient history of the\nSemitic mind. Eloah was at first the name for God, and as it is found\nin all the dialects of the Semitic family except the Phenician (Renan,\np. 61), it may probably be considered as the most ancient name of the\nDeity, sanctioned at a time when the original Semitic speech had not\nyet branched off into national dialects. When this name was first used\nin the plural, it could only have signified, like every plural, many\nEloahs, and such a plural could only have been formed after the\nvarious names of God had become the names of independent deities, i.\ne. during a polytheistic stage. The transition from this into the\nmonotheistic stage could be effected in two ways--either by denying\naltogether the existence of the Elohim, and changing them into devils,\nas the Zoroastrians did with the Devas of their Brahmanic ancestors;\nor by taking a higher view, and looking upon the Elohim as so many\nnames, invented with the honest purpose of expressing the various\naspects of the Deity, though in time diverted from their original\npurpose. This is the view taken by St. Paul of the religion of the\nGreeks when he came to declare unto them 'Him whom they ignorantly\nworshipped,' and the same view was taken by Abraham. Whatever the\nnames of the Elohim, worshipped by the numerous clans of his race,\nAbraham saw that all the Elohim were meant for God, and thus Elohim,\ncomprehending by one name everything that ever had been or could be\ncalled divine, became the name with which the monotheistic age was\nrightly inaugurated,--a plural, conceived and construed as a singular.\nJehovah was all the Elohim, and therefore there could be no other God.\nFrom this point of view the Semitic name of the Deity, Elohim, which\nseemed at first not only ungrammatical but irrational, becomes\nperfectly clear and intelligible, and it proves better than anything\nelse that the true monotheism could not have risen except on the ruins\nof a polytheistic faith. It is easy to scoff at the gods of the\nheathen, but a cold-hearted philosophical negation of the gods of the\nancient world is more likely to lead to Deism or Atheism than to a\nbelief in the One living God, the Father of all mankind, 'who hath\nmade of one blood all nations of men, for to dwell on all the face of\nthe earth; and hath determined the times before appointed, and the\nbounds of their habitation; that they should seek the Lord, if haply\nthey might feel after Him, and find Him, though He be not far from\nevery one of us: for in Him we live, and move, and have our being; as\ncertain also of your own poets have said, For we are also His\noffspring.'\n\nTaking this view of the historical growth of the idea of God, many of\nthe difficulties which M. Renan has to overcome by most elaborate and\nsometimes hair-splitting arguments, disappear at once. M. Renan, for\ninstance, dwells much on Semitic proper names in which the names of\nthe Deity occur, and he thinks that, like the Greek names Theodorus or\nTheodotus, instead of Zenodotus, they prove the existence of a faith\nin one God. We should say they may or may not. As Devadatta, in\nSanskrit, may mean either 'given by God,' or 'given by the gods,' so\nevery proper name which M. Renan quotes, whether of Jews, or Edomites,\nIshmaelites, Ammonites, Moabites, and Themanites, whether from the\nBible, or from Arab historians, from Greek authors, Greek\ninscriptions, the Egyptian papyri, the Himyaritic and Sinaitic\ninscriptions and ancient coins, are all open to two interpretations.\n'The servant of Baal' may mean the servant of the Lord, but it may\nalso mean the servant of Baal, as one of many lords, or even the\nservant of the Baalim or the Lords. The same applies to all other\nnames. 'The gift of El' may mean 'the gift of the only strong God;'\nbut it may likewise mean 'the gift of the El,' as one of many gods, or\neven 'the gift of the Els,' in the sense of the strong gods. Nor do we\nsee why M. Renan should take such pains to prove that the name of\nOrotal or Orotulat, mentioned by Herodotos (III. 8), may be\ninterpreted as the name of a supreme deity; and that Alilat, mentioned\nby the same traveller, should be taken, not as the name of a goddess,\nbut as a feminine noun expressive of the abstract sense of the deity.\nHerodotos says distinctly that Orotal was a deity like Bacchus; and\nAlilat, as he translates her name by [Greek: Ouranie], must have\nappeared to him as a goddess, and not as the Supreme Deity. One verse\nof the Koran is sufficient to show that the Semitic inhabitants of\nArabia worshipped not only gods, but goddesses also. 'What think ye of\nAllat, al Uzza, and Manah, that other third goddess?'\n\nIf our view of the development of the idea of God be correct, we can\nperfectly understand how, in spite of this polytheistic phraseology,\nthe primitive intuition of God should make itself felt from time to\ntime, long before Mohammed restored the belief of Abraham in one God.\nThe old Arabic prayer mentioned by Abulfarag may be perfectly genuine:\n'I dedicate myself to thy service, O God! Thou hast no companion,\nexcept thy companion, of whom thou art absolute master, and of\nwhatever is his.' The verse pointed out to M. Renan by M. Caussin de\nPerceval from the Moallaka of Zoheyr, was certainly anterior to\nMohammed: 'Try not to hide your secret feelings from the sight of\nAllah; Allah knows all that is hidden.' But these quotations serve no\nmore to establish the universality of the monotheistic instinct in the\nSemitic race than similar quotations from the Veda would prove the\nexistence of a conscious monotheism among the ancestors of the Aryan\nrace. There too we read, 'Agni knows what is secret among mortals'\n(Rig-veda VIII. 39, 6): and again, 'He, the upholder of order,\nVaru_n_a, sits down among his people; he, the wise, sits there to\ngovern. From thence perceiving all wondrous things, he sees what has\nbeen and what will be done.'[104] But in these very hymns, better than\nanywhere else, we learn that the idea of supremacy and omnipotence\nascribed to one god did by no means exclude the admission of other\ngods, or names of God. All the other gods disappear from the vision of\nthe poet while he addresses his own God, and he only who is to fulfil\nhis desires stands in full light before the eyes of the worshipper as\nthe supreme and only God.\n\n[Footnote 104: 'History of Ancient Sanskrit Literature,' by M. M., p.\n536.]\n\nThe Science of Religion is only just beginning, and we must take care\nhow we impede its progress by preconceived notions or too hasty\ngeneralizations. During the last fifty years the authentic documents\nof the most important religions of the world have been recovered in a\nmost unexpected and almost miraculous manner. We have now before us\nthe canonical books of Buddhism; the Zend-Avesta of Zoroaster is no\nlonger a sealed book; and the hymns of the Rig-veda have revealed a\nstate of religion anterior to the first beginnings of that mythology\nwhich in Homer and Hesiod stands before us as a mouldering ruin. The\nsoil of Mesopotamia has given back the very images once worshipped by\nthe most powerful of the Semitic tribes, and the cuneiform\ninscriptions of Babylon and Nineveh have disclosed the very prayers\naddressed to Baal or Nisroch. With the discovery of these documents a\nnew era begins in the study of religion. We begin to see more clearly\nevery day what St. Paul meant in his sermon at Athens. But as the\nexcavator at Babylon or Nineveh, before he ventures to reconstruct the\npalaces of these ancient kingdoms, sinks his shafts into the ground\nslowly and circumspectly lest he should injure the walls of the\nancient palaces which he is disinterring; as he watches every\ncorner-stone lest he mistake their dark passages and galleries, and as\nhe removes with awe and trembling the dust and clay from the brittle\nmonuments lest he destroy their outlines, and obliterate their\ninscriptions, so it behoves the student of the history of religion to\nset to work carefully, lest he should miss the track, and lose himself\nin an inextricable maze. The relics which he handles are more precious\nthan the ruins of Babylon; the problems he has to solve are more\nimportant than the questions of ancient chronology; and the\nsubstructions which he hopes one day to lay bare are the world-wide\nfoundations of the eternal kingdom of God.\n\nWe look forward with the highest expectations to the completion of M.\nRenan's work, and though English readers will differ from many of the\nauthor's views, and feel offended now and then at his blunt and\nunguarded language, we doubt not that they will find his volumes both\ninstructive and suggestive. They are written in that clear and\nbrilliant style which has secured to M. Renan the rank of one of the\nbest writers of French, and which throws its charm even over the dry\nand abstruse inquiries into the grammatical forms and radical elements\nof the Semitic languages.\n\n_April, 1860._\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nNote: List of corrections.\n\nDuplication of paragraphs.\n\nPage xix\n\nDuplication of pages.\n\n3 pages after 236\n\nMissing text\n\nPage xviii - last paragraph\n\nPage xxviii - last paragraph\n\nPage 18\n\nPage 46\n\nPage 89\n\nPage 91\n\nPage 99\n\nPage 116\n\nPages missing\n\n3 pages after 233\n\nThe page numbers have gone awry because of the corrections. Any\nreference to page numbers may be made to the Internet Archive edition.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *","title":"Chips from a German Workshop, Volume 1: Essays on the Science of Religion","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":115152}