Chapter X: Introduction (9)

Distinct from the worship offered to these primitive ancestors, is the reverence which from an early time was felt to be due by children to their departed father, soon also to their grandfather, and great-grandfather. The ceremonies in which these more personal feelings found expression were of a more domestic character, and allowed therefore of greater local variety.

It would be quite impossible to give here even an abstract only of the minute regulations which have been preserved to us in the Brahma_n_as, the _S_rauta, G_ri_hya, and Samaya_k_arika Sutras, the Law-books, and a mass of later manuals on the performance of endless rites, all intended to honor the Departed. Such are the minute prescriptions as to times and seasons, as to altars and offerings, as to the number and shape of the sacrificial vessels, as to the proper postures of the sacrificers, and the different arrangements of the vessels, that it is extremely difficult to catch hold of what we really care for, namely, the thoughts and intentions of those who first devised all these intricacies. Much has been written on this class of sacrifices by European scholars also, beginning with Colebrooke's excellent essays on "The Religious Ceremonies of the Hindus," first published in the "Asiatic Researches," vol. v. Calcutta, 1798. But when we ask the simple question, What was the thought from whence all this outward ceremonial sprang, and what was the natural craving of the human heart which it seemed to satisfy, we hardly get an intelligible answer anywhere. It is true that _S_raddhas continue to be performed all over India to the present day, but we know how widely the modern ceremonial has diverged from the rules laid down in the old _S_astras, and it is quite clear from the descriptions given to us by recent travellers that no one can understand the purport even of these survivals of the old ceremonial, unless he understands Sanskrit and can read the old Sutras. We are indeed told in full detail how the cakes were made which the Spirits wore supposed to eat, how many stalks of grass were to be used on which they had to be offered, how long each stalk ought to be, and in what direction it should be held. All the things which teach us nothing are explained to us in abundance, but the few things which the true scholar really cares for are passed over, as if they had no interest to us at all, and have to be discovered under heaps of rubbish.

In order to gain a little light, I think we ought to distinguish between--

1. The daily ancestral sacrifice, the Pit_ri_ya_gn_a, as one
of the five Great Sacrifices (Mahaya_gn_as);

2. The monthly ancestral sacrifice, the
Pi_nd_a-pit_ri_-ya_gn_a, as part of the New and Full-moon
sacrifice;

3. The funeral ceremonies on the death of a householder;

4. The Agapes, or feasts of love and charity, commonly
called _S_raddhas, at which food and other charitable gifts
were bestowed on deserving persons in memory of the deceased
ancestors. The name of _S_raddha belongs properly to this
last class only, but it has been transferred to the second
and third class of sacrifices also, because _S_raddha formed
an important part in them.

The daily Pit_ri_ya_gn_a or Ancestor-worship is one of the five sacrifices, sometimes called the Great Sacrifices,[293] which every married man ought to perform day by day. They are mentioned in the G_ri_hya-sutras (A_s_v. III. 1), as Devaya_gn_a, for the Devas, Bhutaya_gn_a, for animals, etc., Pit_ri_ya_gn_a, for the Fathers, Brahmaya_gn_a, for Brahman, _i.e._ study of the Veda, and Manushyaya_gn_a, for men, _i.e._ hospitality, etc.

Manu (III. 70) tells us the same, namely, that a married man has five great religious duties to perform:

1. The Brahma-sacrifice, _i.e._ the studying and teaching of
the Veda (sometimes called Ahuta).

2. The Pit_ri_-sacrifice, _i.e._ the offering of cakes and
water to the Manes (sometimes called Pra_s_ita).

3. The Deva-sacrifice, _i.e._ the offering of oblations to
the gods (sometimes called Huta).

4. The Bhuta-sacrifice, _i.e._ the giving of food to living
creatures (sometimes called Prahuta).

5. The Manushya-sacrifice, _i.e._ the receiving of guests
with hospitality (sometimes called Brahmya huta).[294]

The performance of this daily Pit_ri_ya_gn_a, seems to have been extremely simple. The householder had to put his sacred cord on the right shoulder, to say "Svadha to the Fathers," and to throw the remains of certain offerings toward the south.[295]

The human impulse to this sacrifice, if sacrifice it can be called, is clear enough. The five "great sacrifices" comprehended in early times the whole duty of man from day to day. They were connected with his daily meal.[296] When this meal was preparing, and before he could touch it himself, he was to offer something to the gods, a Vai_s_vadeva offering,[297] in which the chief deities were Agni, fire, Soma the Vi_s_ve Devas, Dhanvantari, the kind of AEsculapius, Kuhu and Anumati (phases of the moon), Pra_g_apati, lord of creatures, Dyava-p_ri_thivi, Heaven and Earth, and Svish_t_ak_ri_t, the fire on the hearth.[298]

After having thus satisfied the gods in the four quarters, the householder had to throw some oblations into the open air, which were intended for animals, and in some cases for invisible beings, ghosts and such like. Then he was to remember the Departed, the Pit_ri_s, with some offerings; but even after having done this he was not yet to begin his own repast, unless he had also given something to strangers (atithis).

When all this had been fulfilled, and when, besides, the householder, as we should say, had said his daily prayers, or repeated what he had learned of the Veda, then and then only was he in harmony with the world that surrounded him, the five Great Sacrifices had been performed by him, and he was free from all the sins arising from a thoughtless and selfish life.

This Pit_ri_ya_gn_a, as one of the five daily sacrifices, is described in the Brahma_n_as, the G_ri_hya and Samaya_k_arika Sutras, and, of course, in the legal Sa_m_hitas. Rajendralal Mitra[299] informs us that "orthodox Brahmans to this day profess to observe all these five ceremonies, but that in reality only the offerings to the gods and manes are strictly observed, while the reading is completed by the repetition of the Gayatri only, and charity and feeding of animals are casual and uncertain."

Quite different from this simple daily ancestral offering is the Pit_ri_ya_gn_a or Pi_nd_a-pit_ri_ya_gn_a, which forms part of many of the statutable sacrifices, and, first of all, of the New and Full-moon sacrifice. Here again the human motive is intelligible enough. It was the contemplation of the regular course of nature, the discovery of order in the coming and going of the heavenly bodies, the growing confidence in some ruling power of the world which lifted man's thoughts from his daily work to higher regions, and filled his heart with a desire to approach these higher powers with praise, thanksgiving, and offerings. And it was at such moments as the waning of the moon that his thoughts would most naturally turn to those whose life had waned, whose bright faces were no longer visible on earth, his fathers or ancestors. Therefore at the very beginning of the New-moon sacrifice, we are told in the Brahma_n_as[300] and in the _S_rauta-sutras, that a Pit_ri_ya_gn_a, a sacrifice to the Fathers, has to be performed. A _K_aru or pie had to be prepared in the Dakshi_n_agni, the southern fire, and the offerings, consisting of water and round cakes (pi_nd_as), were specially dedicated to father, grandfather, and great-grandfather, while the wife of the sacrificer, if she wished for a son, was allowed to eat one of the cakes.[301]

Similar ancestral offerings took place during other sacrifices too, of which the New and Full-moon sacrifices form the general type.

It may be quite true that these two kinds of ancestral sacrifices have the same object and share the same name, but their character is different; and if, as has often been the case, they are mixed up together, we lose the most important lessons which a study of the ancient ceremonial should teach us. I cannot describe the difference between these two Pit_ri_ya_gn_as more decisively than by pointing out that the former was performed by the father of a family, or, if we may say so, by a layman, the latter by a regular priest, or a class of priests, selected by the sacrificer to act in his behalf. As the Hindus themselves would put it, the former is a g_ri_hya, a domestic, the latter a _s_rauta, a priestly ceremony.[302]

We now come to a third class of ceremonies which are likewise domestic and personal, but which differ from the two preceding ceremonies by their occasional character, I mean the funeral, as distinct from the ancestral ceremonies. In one respect these funeral ceremonies may represent an earlier phase of worship than the daily and monthly ancestral sacrifices. They lead up to them, and, as it were, prepare the departed for their future dignity as Pit_ri_s or Ancestors. On the other hand, the conception of Ancestors in general must have existed before any departed person could have been raised to that rank, and I therefore preferred to describe the ancestral sacrifices first.

Nor need I enter here very fully into the character of the special funeral ceremonies of India. I described them in a special paper, "On Sepulture and Sacrificial Customs in the Veda," nearly thirty years ago.[303] Their spirit is the same as that of the funeral ceremonies of Greeks, Romans, Slavonic, and Teutonic nations, and the coincidences between them all are often most surprising.

In Vedic times the people in India both burned and buried their dead, and they did this with a certain solemnity, and, after a time, according to fixed rules. Their ideas about the status of the departed, after their body had been burned and their ashes buried, varied considerably, but in the main they seem to have believed in a life to come, not very different from our life on earth, and in the power of the departed to confer blessings on their descendants. It soon therefore became the interest of the survivors to secure the favor of their departed friends by observances and offerings which, at first, were the spontaneous manifestation of human feelings, but which soon became traditional, technical, in fact, ritual.

On the day on which the corpse had been burned, the relatives (samanodakas) bathed and poured out a handful of water to the deceased, pronouncing his name and that of his family.[304] At sunset they returned home, and, as was but natural, they were told to cook nothing during the first night, and to observe certain rules during the next day up to ten days, according to the character of the deceased. These were days of mourning, or, as they were afterward called, days of impurity, when the mourners withdrew from contact with the world, and shrank by a natural impulse from the ordinary occupations and pleasures of life.[305]

Then followed the collecting of the ashes on the 11th, 13th, or 15th day of the dark half of the moon. On returning from thence they bathed, and then offered what was called a _S_raddha to the departed.

This word _S_raddha, which meets us here for the first time, is full of interesting lessons, if only properly understood. First of all it should be noted that it is absent, not only from the hymns, but, so far as we know at present, even from the ancient Brahma_n_as. It seems therefore a word of a more modern origin. There is a passage in Apastamba's Dharma-sutras which betrays, on the part of the author, a consciousness of the more modern origin of the _S_raddhas:[306]

"Formerly men and gods lived together in this world. Then the
gods in reward of their sacrifices went to heaven, but men
were left behind. Those men who perform sacrifices in the
same manner as the gods did, dwelt (after death) with the
gods and Brahman in heaven. Now (seeing men left behind) Manu
revealed this ceremony which is designated by the word
_S_raddha."

_S_raddha has assumed many[307] meanings, and Manu,[308] for instance, uses it almost synonymously with pit_ri_ya_gn_a. But its original meaning seems to have been "that which is given with _s_raddha or faith," _i.e._ charity bestowed on deserving persons, and, more particularly, on Brahma_n_as. The gift was called _s_raddha, but the act itself also was called by the same name. The word is best explained by Naraya_n_a in his commentary on the G_ri_hya-sutras of A_s_valayana (IV. 7), "_S_raddha is that which is given in faith to Brahmans for the sake of the Fathers."[309]

Such charitable gifts flowed most naturally and abundantly at the time of a man's death, or whenever his memory was revived by happy or unhappy events in a family, and hence _S_raddha has become the general name for ever so many sacred acts commemorative of the departed. We hear of _S_raddhas not only at funerals, but at joyous events also, when presents were bestowed in the name of the family, and therefore in the name of the ancestors also, on all who had a right to that distinction.

It is a mistake therefore to look upon _S_raddhas simply as offerings of water or cakes to the Fathers. An offering to the Fathers was, no doubt, a symbolic part of each _S_raddha, but its more important character was charity bestowed in memory of the Fathers.

This, in time, gave rise to much abuse, like the alms bestowed on the Church during the Middle Ages. But in the beginning the motive was excellent. It was simply a wish to benefit others, arising from the conviction, felt more strongly in the presence of death than at any other time, that as we can carry nothing out of this world, we ought to do as much good as possible in the world with our worldly goods. At _S_raddhas the Brahma_n_as were said to represent the sacrificial fire into which the gifts should be thrown.[310] If we translate here Brahma_n_as by priests, we can easily understand why there should have been in later times so strong a feeling against _S_raddhas. But priest is a very bad rendering of Brahma_n_a. The Brahma_n_as were, socially and intellectually, a class of men of high breeding. They were a recognized and, no doubt, a most essential element in the ancient society of India. As they lived for others, and were excluded from most of the lucrative pursuits of life, it was a social, and it soon became a religious duty, that they should be supported by the community at large. Great care was taken that the recipients of such bounty as was bestowed at _S_raddhas should be strangers, neither friends nor enemies, and in no way related to the family. Thus Apastamba says:[311] "The food eaten (at a _S_raddha) by persons related to the giver is a gift offered to goblins. It reaches neither the Manes nor the Gods." A man who tried to curry favor by bestowing _S_raddhika gifts, was called by an opprobrious name, a _S_raddha-mitra.[312]

Without denying therefore that in later times the system of _S_raddhas may have degenerated, I think we can perceive that it sprang from a pure source, and, what for our present purpose is even more important, from an intelligible source.

Let us now return to the passage in the G_ri_hya-sutras of A_s_valayana, where we met for the first time with the name of _S_raddha.[313] It was the _S_raddha to be given for the sake of the Departed, after his ashes had been collected in an urn and buried. This _S_raddha is called ekoddish_t_a,[314] or, as we should say, personal. It was meant for one person only, not for the three ancestors, nor for all the ancestors. Its object was in fact to raise the departed to the rank of a Pit_ri_, and this had to be achieved by _S_raddha offerings continued during a whole year. This at least is the general, and, most likely, the original rule. Apastamba says that the _S_raddha for a deceased relative should be performed every day during the year, and that after that a monthly _S_raddha only should be performed or none at all, that is, no more personal _S_raddha,[315] because the departed shares henceforth in the regular Parva_n_a-_s_raddhas.[316] _S_ankhayana says the same,[317] namely that the personal _S_raddha lasts for a year, and that then "the Fourth" is dropped, _i.e._ the great-grandfather was dropped, the grandfather became the great-grandfather, the father the grandfather, while the lately Departed occupied the father's place among the three principal Pit_ris_.[318] This was called the Sapi_nd_ikara_n_a, _i.e._ the elevating of the departed to the rank of an ancestor.

There are here, as elsewhere, many exceptions. Gobhila allows six months instead of a year, or even a Tripaksha,[319] _i.e._ three half-months; and lastly, any auspicious event (v_ri_ddhi) may become the occasion of the Sapi_nd_ikara_n_a.[320]

The full number of _S_raddhas necessary for the Sapi_nd_ana is sometimes given as sixteen, viz., the first, then one in each of the twelve months, then two semestral ones, and lastly the Sapi_nd_ana. But here too much variety is allowed, though, if the Sapi_nd_ana takes place before the end of the year, the number of sixteen _S_raddhas has still to be made up.[321]

When the _S_raddha is offered on account of an auspicious event, such as a birth or a marriage, the fathers invoked are not the father, grandfather, and great-grandfather, who are sometimes called a_s_rumukha, with tearful faces, but the ancestors before them, and they are called nandimukha, or joyful.[322]

Colebrooke,[323] to whom we owe an excellent description of what a _S_raddha is in modern times, took evidently the same view. "The first set of funeral ceremonies," he writes, "is adapted to effect, by means of oblations, the re-embodying of the soul of the deceased, after burning his corpse. The apparent scope of the second set is to raise his shade from this world, where it would else, according to the notions of the Hindus, continue to roam among demons and evil spirits, up to heaven, and then deify him, as it were, among the manes of departed ancestors. For this end, a _S_raddha should regularly be offered to the deceased on the day after the mourning expires; twelve other _S_raddhas _singly_ to the deceased in twelve successive months; similar obsequies at the end of the third fortnight, and also in the sixth month, and in the twelfth; and the oblation called Sapi_nd_ana on the first anniversary of his decease.[324] At this Sapi_nd_ana _S_raddha, which is the last of the ekoddish_t_a _s_raddhas, four funeral cakes are offered to the deceased and his three ancestors, that consecrated to the deceased being divided into three portions and mixed with the other three cakes. The portion retained is often offered to the deceased, and the act of union and fellowship becomes complete."[325]

When this system of _S_raddhas had once been started, it seems to have spread very rapidly. We soon hear of the monthly _S_raddha, not only in memory of one person lately deceased, but as part of the Pit_ri_ya_gn_a, and as obligatory, not only on householders (agnimat), but on other persons also, and, not only on the three upper castes, but even, without hymns, on _S_udras,[326] and as to be performed, not only on the day of New-Moon, but on other days also,[327] whenever there was an opportunity. Gobhila seems to look upon the Pi_nd_apit_ri_ya_gn_a, as itself a _S_raddha,[328] and the commentator holds that, even if there are no pi_nd_as or cakes, the Brahmans ought still to be fed. This _S_raddha, however, is distinguished from the other, the true _S_raddha, called Anvaharya, which follows it,[329] and which is properly known by the name of Parva_n_a _S_raddha.

The same difficulties which confront us when we try to form a clear conception of the character of the various ancestral ceremonies, were felt by the Brahmans themselves, as may be seen from the long discussions in the commentary on the _S_raddha-kalpa[330] and from the abusive language used by _K_andrakanta Tarkalankara against Raghunandana. The question with them assumes the form of what is pradhana (primary) and what is anga (secondary) in these sacrifices, and the final result arrived at is that sometimes the offering of cakes is pradhana, as in the Pi_nd_apit_ri_ya_gn_a, sometimes the feeding of Brahmans only, as in the Nitya-_s_raddha, sometimes both, as in the Sapi_nd_ikara_n_a.

We may safely say, therefore, that not a day passed in the life of the ancient people of India on which they were not reminded of their ancestors, both near and distant, and showed their respect for them, partly by symbolic offerings to the Manes, partly by charitable gifts to deserving persons, chiefly Brahmans. These offertories varied from the simplest, such as milk and fruits, to the costliest, such as gold and jewels. The feasts given to those who were invited to officiate or assist at a _S_raddha seem in some cases to have been very sumptuous,[331] and what is very important, the eating of meat, which in later times was strictly forbidden in many sects, must, when the Sutras were written, have been fully recognized at these feasts, even to the killing and eating of a cow.[332]

This shows that these _S_raddhas, though, possibly of later date than the Pit_ri_ya_gn_as, belong nevertheless to a very early phase of Indian life. And though much may have been changed in the outward form of these ancient ancestral sacrifices, their original solemn character has remained unchanged. Even at present, when the worship of the ancient Devas is ridiculed by many who still take part in it, the worship of the ancestors and the offering of _S_raddhas have maintained much of their old sacred character. They have sometimes been compared to the "communion" in the Christian Church, and it is certainly true that many natives speak of their funeral and ancestral ceremonies with a hushed voice and with real reverence. They alone seem still to impart to their life on earth a deeper significance and a higher prospect. I could go even a step further and express my belief, that the absence of such services for the dead and of ancestral commemorations is a real loss in our own religion. Almost every religion recognizes them as tokens of a loving memory offered to a father, to a mother, or even to a child, and though in many countries they may have proved a source of superstition, there runs through them all a deep well of living human faith that ought never to be allowed to perish. The early Christian Church had to sanction the ancient prayers for the Souls of the Departed, and in more southern countries the services on All Saints' and on All Souls' Day continue to satisfy a craving of the human heart which must be satisfied in every religion.[333] We, in the North, shrink from these open manifestations of grief, but our hearts know often a deeper bitterness; nay, there would seem to be a higher truth than we at first imagine in the belief of the ancients that the souls of our beloved ones leave us no rest, unless they are appeased by daily prayers, or, better still, by daily acts of goodness in remembrance of them.[334]

But there is still another Beyond that found expression in the ancient religion of India. Besides the Devas or Gods, and besides the Pit_ri_s or Fathers, there was a third world, without which the ancient religion of India could not have become what we see it in the Veda. That third Beyond was what the poets of the Veda call the _R i_ t a, and which I believe meant originally no more than "the straight line." It is applied to the straight line of the sun in its daily course, to the straight line followed by day and night, to the straight line that regulates the seasons, to the straight line which, in spite of many momentary deviations, was discovered to run through the whole realm of nature. We call that _Ri_ta, that straight, direct, or right line, when we apply it in a more general sense, _the Law of Nature_; and when we apply it to the moral world, we try to express the same idea again by speaking of the _Moral Law_, the law on which our life is founded, the eternal Law of Right and Reason, or, it may be, "that which makes for righteousness" both within us and without.[335]

And thus, as a thoughtful look on nature led to the first perception of bright gods, and in the end of a God of light, as love of our parents was transfigured into piety and a belief in immortality, a recognition of the straight lines in the world without, and in the world within, was raised into the highest faith, a faith in a law that underlies everything, a law in which we may trust, whatever befall, a law which speaks within us with the divine voice of conscience, and tells us "this is _ri_ta," "this is right," "this is true," whatever the statutes of our ancestors, or even the voices of our bright gods, may say to the contrary.[336]

These three Beyonds are the three revelations of antiquity; and it is due almost entirely to the discovery of the Veda that we, in this nineteenth century of ours, have been allowed to watch again these early phases of thought and religion, which had passed away long before the beginnings of other literatures.[337] In the Veda an ancient city has been laid bare before our eyes which, in the history of all other religions, is filled up with rubbish, and built over by new architects. Some of the earliest and most instructive scenes of our distant childhood have risen once more above the horizon of our memory which, until thirty or forty years ago, seemed to have vanished forever.

* * * * *

Only a few words more to indicate at least how this religious growth in India contained at the same time the germs of Indian philosophy. Philosophy in India is, what it ought to be, not the denial, but the fulfilment of religion; it is the highest religion, and the oldest name of the oldest system of philosophy in India is V e d a n t a, that is, the end, the goal, the highest object of the Veda.

Let us return once more to that ancient theologian who lived in the fifth century B.C., and who told us that, even before his time, all the gods had been discovered to be but three gods, the gods of the _Earth_, the gods of the _Air_, and the gods of the _Sky_, invoked under various names. The same writer tells us that in reality there is but _one_ God, but he does not call him the Lord, or the Highest God, the Creator, Ruler, and Preserver of all things, but he calls him A t m a n, THE SELF. The one Atman or Self, he says, is praised in many ways owing to the greatness of the godhead. And then he goes on to say: "The other gods are but so many members of the one Atman, Self, and thus it has been said that the poets compose their praises according to the multiplicity of the natures of the beings whom they praise."

It is true, no doubt, that this is the language of a philosophical theologian, not of an ancient poet. Yet these philosophical reflections belong to the fifth century before our era, if not to an earlier date; and the first germs of such thoughts may be discovered in some of the Vedic hymns also. I have quoted already from the hymns such passages as[338]--"They speak of Mitra, Varu_n_a, Agni; then he is the heavenly bird Garutmat; _that which is and is one_ the poets call in various ways; they speak of Yama, Agni, Matari_s_van."

In another hymn, in which the sun is likened to a bird, we read: "Wise poets represent by their words the bird who is one, in many ways."[339]

All this is still tinged with mythology; but there are other passages from which a purer light beams upon us, as when one poet asks:[340]

"Who saw him when he was first born, when he who has no bones
bore him who has bones? Where was the breath, the blood, the
Self of the world? Who went to ask this from any that knew
it?"

Here, too, the expression is still helpless, but though the flesh is weak, the spirit is very willing. The expression, "He who has bones" is meant for that which has assumed consistency and form, the Visible, as opposed to that which has no bones, no body, no form, the Invisible, while "breath, blood, and self of the world" are but so many attempts at finding names and concepts for what is by necessity inconceivable, and therefore unnamable.

In the second period of Vedic literature, in the so-called Brahma_n_as, and more particularly in what is called the Upanishads, or the Vedanta portion, these thoughts advance to perfect clearness and definiteness. Here the development of religious thought, which took its beginning in the hymns, attains to its fulfilment. The circle becomes complete. Instead of comprehending the One by many names, the many names are now comprehended to be the One. The old names are openly discarded; even such titles as Pra_g_apati, lord of creatures, Vi_s_vakarman, maker of all things, Dhat_ri_, creator, are put aside as inadequate. The name now used is an expression of nothing but the purest and highest subjectiveness--it is A t m a n, the Self, far more abstract than our E g o--the Self of all things, the Self of all the old mythological gods--for they were not _mere_ names, but names intended for something--lastly, the Self in which each individual self must find rest, must come to himself, must find his own true Self.

You may remember that I spoke to you in my first lecture of a boy who insisted on being sacrificed by his father, and who, when he came to Yama, the ruler of the departed, was granted three boons, and who then requested, as his third boon, that Yama should tell him what became of man after death. That dialogue forms part of one of the Upanishads, it belongs to the Vedanta, the end of the Veda, the highest aim of the Veda. I shall read you a few extracts from it.

Yama, the King of the Departed, says:

"Men who are fools, dwelling in ignorance, though wise in
their own sight, and puffed up with vain knowledge, go round
and round, staggering to and fro, like blind led by the
blind.

"The future never rises before the eyes of the careless
child, deluded by the delusions of wealth. _This_ is the
world, he thinks; there is no other; thus he falls again and
again under my sway (the sway of death).

"The wise, who by means of meditating on his _Self_,
recognizes the Old (the old man within) who is difficult to
see, who has entered into darkness, who is hidden in the
cave, who dwells in the abyss, as God, he indeed leaves joy
and sorrow far behind.

"That Self, the Knower, is not born, it dies not; it came
from nothing, it never became anything. The Old man is
unborn, from everlasting to everlasting; he is not killed,
though the body be killed.

"That Self is smaller than small, greater than great; hidden
in the heart of the creature. A man who has no more desires
and no more griefs, sees the majesty of the Self by the grace
of the creator.

"Though sitting still, he walks far; though lying down, he
goes everywhere. Who save myself is able to know that God,
who rejoices, and rejoices not?

"That Self cannot be gained by the Veda; nor by the
understanding, nor by much learning. He whom the Self
chooses, by him alone the Self can be gained.

"The Self chooses him as his own. But he who has not first
turned away from his wickedness, who is not calm and subdued,
or whose mind is not at rest, he can never obtain the Self,
even by knowledge.

"No mortal lives by the breath that goes up and by the breath
that goes down. We live by another, in whom both repose.

"Well then, I shall tell thee this mystery, the eternal word
(Brahman), and what happens to the _Self_, after reaching
death.

"Some are born again, as living beings, others enter into
stocks and stones, according to their work, and according to
their knowledge.

"But he, the Highest Person, who wakes in us while we are
asleep, shaping one lovely sight after another, he indeed is
called the Light, he is called Brahman, he alone is called
the Immortal. All worlds are founded on it, and no one goes
beyond. _This is that._

"As the one fire, after it has entered the world, though one,
becomes different according to what it burns, thus the One
Self within all things, becomes different, according to
whatever it enters, but it exists also apart.

"As the sun, the eye of the world, is not contaminated by the
external impurities seen by the eye, thus the One Self within
all things is never contaminated by the sufferings of the
world, being himself apart.

"There is one eternal thinker, thinking non-eternal thoughts;
he, though one, fulfils the desires of many. The wise who
perceive Him within their Self, to them belongs eternal life,
eternal peace.[341]

"Whatever there is, the whole world, when gone forth (from
Brahman), trembles in his breath. That Brahman is a great
terror, like a drawn sword. Those who know it, become
immortal.

"He (Brahman) cannot be reached by speech, by mind, or by the
eye. He cannot be apprehended, except by him who says, _He
is._

"When all desires that dwell in the heart cease, then the
mortal becomes immortal, and obtains Brahman.

"When all the fetters of the heart here on earth are broken,
when all that binds us to this life is undone, then the
mortal becomes immortal--here my teaching ends."

This is what is called Vedanta, the Veda-end, the end of the Veda, and this is the religion or the philosophy, whichever you like to call it, that has lived on from about 500 B.C. to the present day. If the people of India can be said to have now any system of religion at all--apart from their ancestral sacrifices and their _S_raddhas, and apart from mere caste-observances--it is to be found in the Vedanta philosophy, the leading tenets of which are known, to some extent in every village.[342] That great revival of religion, which was inaugurated some fifty years ago by Ram-Mohun Roy, and is now known as the Brahma-Sama_g_, under the leadership of my noble friend Keshub Chunder Sen, was chiefly founded on the Upanishads, and was Vedantic in spirit. There is, in fact, an unbroken continuity between the most modern and the most ancient phases of Hindu thought, extending over more than three thousand years.

To the present day India acknowledges no higher authority in matters of religion, ceremonial, customs, and law than the _Veda_, and so long as India is India, nothing will extinguish that ancient spirit of Vedantism which is breathed by every Hindu from his earliest youth, and pervades in various forms the prayers even of the idolater, the speculations of the philosopher, and the proverbs of the beggar.

For purely practical reasons therefore--I mean for the very practical object of knowing something of the secret springs which determine the character, the thoughts and deeds of the lowest as well as of the highest among the people in India--an acquaintance with their religion, which is founded on the Veda, and with their philosophy, which is founded on the Vedanta, is highly desirable.

It is easy to make light of this, and to ask, as some statesmen have asked, even in Europe, What has religion, or what has philosophy, to do with politics? In India, in spite of all appearances to the contrary, and notwithstanding the indifference on religious matters so often paraded before the world by the Indians themselves, religion, and philosophy too, are great powers still. Read the account that has lately been published of two native statesmen, the administrators of two first-class states in Saurash_t_ra, Junagadh, and Bhavnagar, Gokulaji and Gauri_s_ankara,[343] and you will see whether the Vedanta is still a moral and a political power in India or not.

But I claim even more for the Vedanta, and I recommend its study, not only to the candidates for the Indian Civil Service, but to all true students of philosophy. It will bring before them a view of life, different from all other views of life which are placed before us in the History of Philosophy. You saw how behind all the Devas or gods, the authors of the Upanishads discovered the Atman or Self. Of that Self they predicated three things only, that it is, that it perceives, and that it enjoys eternal bliss. All other predicates were negative: it is not this, it is not that--it is beyond anything that we can conceive or name.

But that Self, that Highest Self, the Paramatman, could be discovered after a severe moral and intellectual discipline only, and those who had not yet discovered it were allowed to worship lower gods, and to employ more poetical names to satisfy their human wants. Those who knew the other gods to be but names or persons--_personae_ or masks, in the true sense of the word--pratikas, as they call them in Sanskrit--knew also that those who worshipped these names or persons, worshipped in truth the Highest Self, though ignorantly. This is a most characteristic feature in the religious history of India. Even in the Bhagavadgita, a rather popular and exoteric exposition of Vedantic doctrines, the Supreme Lord or Bhagavat himself is introduced as saying: "Even those who worship idols, worship me."[344]

But that was not all. As behind the names of Agni, Indra, and Pra_g_apati, and behind all the mythology of nature, the ancient sages of India had discovered the Atman--let us call it the objective Self--they perceived also behind the veil of the body, behind the senses, behind the mind, and behind our reason (in fact behind the mythology of the soul, which we often call psychology), another Atman, or the subjective Self. That Self too was to be discovered by a severe moral and intellectual discipline only, and those who wished to find it, who wished to know, not themselves, but their Self, had to cut far deeper than the senses, or the mind, or the reason, or the ordinary Ego. All these too were Devas, bright apparitions--mere names--yet names meant for something. Much that was most dear, that had seemed for a time their very self, had to be surrendered, before they could find the Self of Selves, the Old Man, the Looker-on, a subject independent of all personality, an existence independent of all life.

When that point had been reached, then the highest knowledge began to dawn, the Self within (the Pratyagatman) was drawn toward the Highest Self (the Paramatman), it found its true self in the Highest Self, and the oneness of the subjective with the objective Self was recognized as underlying all reality, as the dim dream of religion--as the pure light of philosophy.

This fundamental idea is worked out with systematic completeness in the Vedanta philosophy, and no one who can appreciate the lessons contained in Berkeley's philosophy, will read the Upanishads and the Brahmasutras, and their commentaries without feeling a richer and a wiser man.

I admit that it requires patience, discrimination, and a certain amount of self-denial before we can discover the grains of solid gold in the dark mines of Eastern philosophy. It is far easier and far more amusing for shallow critics to point out what is absurd and ridiculous in the religion and philosophy of the ancient world than for the earnest student to discover truth and wisdom under strange disguises. Some progress, however, has been made, even during the short span of life that we can remember. The Sacred Books of the East are no longer a mere butt for the invectives of missionaries or the sarcasms of philosophers. They have at last been recognized as historical documents, ay, as the most ancient documents in the history of the human mind, and as palaeontological records of an evolution that begins to elicit wider and deeper sympathies than the nebular formation of the planet on which we dwell for a season, or the organic development of that chrysalis which we call man.

If you think that I exaggerate, let me read you in conclusion what one of the greatest philosophical critics[345]--and certainly not a man given to admiring the thoughts of others--says of the Vedanta, and more particularly of the Upanishads. Schopenhauer writes:

"In the whole world there is no study so beneficial and so
elevating as that of the Upanishads. It has been the solace
of my life--it will be the solace of my death."[346]

* * * * *

I have thus tried, so far as it was possible in one course of lectures, to give you some idea of ancient India, of its ancient literature, and, more particularly, of its ancient religion. My object was, not merely to place names and facts before you, these you can find in many published books, but, if possible, to make you see and feel the general human interests that are involved in that ancient chapter of the history of the human race. I wished that the Veda and its religion and philosophy should not only seem to you curious or strange, but that you should feel that there was in them something that concerns ourselves, something of our own intellectual growth, some recollections, as it were, of our own childhood, or at least of the childhood of our own race. I feel convinced that, placed as we are here in this life, we have lessons to learn from the Veda, quite as important as the lessons we learn at school from Homer and Virgil, and lessons from the Vedanta quite as instructive as the systems of Plato or Spinoza.

I do not mean to say that everybody who wishes to know how the human race came to be what it is, how language came to be what it is, how religion came to be what it is, how manners, customs, laws, and forms of government came to be what they are, how we ourselves came to be what we are, must learn Sanskrit, and must study Vedic Sanskrit. But I _do_ believe that not to know what a study of Sanskrit, and particularly a study of the Veda, has already done for illuminating the darkest passages in the history of the human mind, of that mind on which we ourselves are feeding and living, is a misfortune, or, at all events, a loss, just as I should count it a loss to have passed through life without knowing something, however little, of the geological formation of the earth, or of the sun, and the moon, and the stars--and of the thought, or the will, or the law, that govern their movements.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 260: On the early use of letters for public inscriptions, see Hayman, _Journal of Philology_, 1879, pp. 141, 142, 150; Hicks, "Manual of Greek Historical Inscriptions," pp. 1 seqq.]

[Footnote 261: Herod, (v. 59) says: "I saw Phenician letters on certain tripods in a temple of the Ismenian Apollo at Thebes in Boeotia, the most of them like the Ionian letters."]

[Footnote 262: Munch, "Die Nordisch Germanischen Voelker," p. 240.]

[Footnote 263: Herod. (v. 58) says: "The Ionians from of old call [Greek: byblos diphtherai], because once, in default of the former, they used to employ the latter. And even down to my own time, many of the barbarians write on such diphtherae."]

[Footnote 264: Hekataeos and Kadmos of Miletos (520 B.C.), Charon of Lampsakos (504 B.C.), Xanthos the Lydian (463 B.C.), Pherekydes of Leros (480 B.C.), Hellanikos of Mitylene (450 B.C.), etc.]

[Footnote 265: Lewis, "Astronomy," p. 92.]

[Footnote 266: See Hayman, _Journal of Philology_, 1879, p. 139.]

[Footnote 267: See M. M., "History of Ancient Sanskrit Literature," pp. 497 seqq., "On the Introduction of Writing in India."]

[Footnote 268: M. M., "History of Ancient Sanskrit Literature," p. 515.]

[Footnote 269: M. M., "Hibbert Lectures," p. 153.]

[Footnote 270: Learning was anciently preserved by memory. The Jewish, or rather Chaldaic _Kabala_, or Tradition was not written for many centuries. The Druids of ancient Britain preserved their litanies in the same way, and to a Bard a good memory was indispensable, or he would have been refused initiation.--A. W.]

[Footnote 271: See my article on the date of the Ka_s_ika in the _Indian Antiquary_, 1880, p. 305.]

[Footnote 272: The translation of the most important passages in I-tsing's work was made for me by one of my Japanese pupils, K. Kasawara.]

[Footnote 273: See Bunyiu Nanjio's "Catalogue of the Chinese Tripi_t_aka," p. 372, where Arya_s_ura, who must have lived before 434 A.D., is mentioned as the author of the "_G_atakamala."]

[Footnote 274: Wellington, 1880.]

[Footnote 275: De Bello Gall. vi. 14; "History of Ancient Sanskrit Literature," p. 506.]

[Footnote 276: See De Coulanges, "The Ancient City," Book I. II. "We find this worship of the dead among the Hellenes, among the Latins, among the Sabines, among the Etruscans; we also find it among the Aryas of India. Mention is made of it in the hymns of the Rig-Veda. It is spoken of in the Laws of Manu as the most ancient worship among men.... Before men had any notion of Indra or of Zeus, they adored the dead; they feared them, and addressed them prayers. It seems that the religious sentiment began in this way. It was perhaps while looking upon the dead that man first conceived the idea of the supernatural, and to have a hope beyond what he saw. Death was the first mystery, and it placed man on the track of other mysteries. It raised his thoughts from the visible to the invisible, from the transitory to the eternal, from the human to the divine."

The sacred fire represented the ancestors, and therefore was revered and kept carefully from profanation by the presence of a stranger.--A. W.]

[Footnote 277: "Principles of Sociology," p. 313.]

[Footnote 278: "The Hindu Law of Inheritance is based upon the Hindu religion, and we must be cautious that in administering Hindu law we do not, by acting upon our notions derived from English law, inadvertently wound or offend the religious feelings of those who may be affected by our decisions."--Bengal Law Reports, 103.]

[Footnote 279:

"Earth-wandering demons, they their charge began,
The ministers of good and guards of man;
Veiled with a mantle of aerial light,
O'er Earth's wide space they wing their hovering flight."]

[Footnote 280: Cicero, "De Leg." II. 9, 22, "Deorum manium jura sancta sunto; nos leto datos divos habento."]

[Footnote 281: See Atharva-Veda XVIII. 2, 49.]

[Footnote 282: Rig-Veda X. 14, 1-2. He is called Vaivasvata, the solar (X. 58, 1), and even the son of Vivasvat (X. 14, 5). In a later phase of religious thought Yama is conceived as the first man (Atharva-Veda XVIII. 3, 13, as compared with Rig-Veda X. 14, 1).]

[Footnote 283: Rig-Veda X. 14.]

[Footnote 284: In the Avesta many of these things are done by Ahura-Mazda with the help of the Fravashis.]

[Footnote 285: See _S_atapatha Brahma_n_a I. 9, 3, 10; VI. 5, 4, 8.]

[Footnote 286: Rig-Veda VIII. 48, 3: "We drank Soma, we became immortal, we went to the light, we found the gods;" VIII. 48, 12.]

[Footnote 287: Rig-Veda IX. 97, 39.]

[Footnote 288: L. c. X. 14, 6.]

[Footnote 289: L. c. X. 16, 10.]

[Footnote 290: A translation considerably differing from my own is given by Sarvadhikari in his "Tagore Lectures for 1880," p. 34.]

[Footnote 291: Cf. Max Mueller, Rig-Veda, transl. vol. i. p. 24.]

[Footnote 292: In a previous note will be found the statement by Professor De Coulanges, of Strasburg, that in India, as in other countries, a belief in the ancestral spirits came first, and a belief in divinities afterward. Professor Mueller cites other arguments which might be employed in support of such a theory. The name of the oldest and greatest among the Devas, for instance, is not simply Dyaus, but Dyaush-pita, Heaven-Father; and there are several names of the same character, not only in Sanskrit, but in Greek and Latin also. Jupiter and Zeus Pater are forms of the appellation mentioned, and mean the Father in Heaven. It does certainly look as though Dyaus, the sky, had become personal and worshipped only after he had been raised to the category of a Pitri, a father; and that this predicate of Father must have been elaborated first before it could have been used, to comprehend Dyaus, the sky, Varu_n_a, and other Devas. Professor Mueller, however, denies that this is the whole truth in the case. The Vedic poets, he remarks, believed in Devas--gods, if we must so call them--literally, the bright ones; Pit_ri_s, fathers; and Manushyas, men, mortals. (Atharva-Veda, X. 6, 32.) Who came first and who came after it is difficult to say; but as soon as the three were placed side by side, the Devas certainly stood the highest, then followed the Pit_ri_s, and last came the mortals. Ancient thought did not comprehend the three under one concept, but it paved the way to it. The mortals after passing through death became Fathers, and the Fathers became the companions of the Devas.

In Manu there is an advance beyond this point. The world, all that moves and rests, we are told (Manu III., 201), has been made by the Devas; but the Devas and Danavas were born of the Pit_ri_s, and the Pit_ri_s of the _R_ishis. Originally the _R_ishis were the poets of the Vedas, seven in number; and we are not told how they came to be placed above the Devas and Pit_ri_s. It does not, however, appear utterly beyond the power to solve. The Vedas were the production of the _R_ishis, and the Pit_ri_s, being perpetuated thus to human memory, became by a figure of speech their offspring. The Devas sprung from the Pit_ri_s, because it was usual to apotheosize the dead. "Our ancestors desired," says Cicero, "that the men who had quitted this life should be counted in the number of gods." Again, the conception of patrons or Pit_ri_s to each family and tribe naturally led to the idea of a Providence over all; and so the Pit_ri_ begat the Deva. This religion preceded and has outlasted the other.--A. W.]

[Footnote 293: _S_atapatha Brahma_n_a XI. 5, 6, 1; Taitt. Ar. II. 11, 10; A_s_valayana G_ri_hya-sutras III. 1, 1; Paraskara G_ri_hya-sutras II. 9, 1; Apastamba, Dharma-sutras, translated by Buehler, pp. 47 seq.]

[Footnote 294: In the _S_ankhayana G_ri_hya (I. 5) four Paka-ya_gn_as are mentioned, called Huta, ahuta, prahuta, pra_s_ita.]

[Footnote 295: A_s_v. G_ri_hya-sutras I. 3, 10.]

[Footnote 296: Manu III. 117-118.]

[Footnote 297: L. c. III. 85.]

[Footnote 298: See Des Coulanges, "Ancient City," I. 3. "Especially were the meals of the family religions acts. The god [the sacred fire] presided there. He had cooked the bread and prepared the food; a prayer, therefore, was due at the beginning and end of the repast. Before eating, they placed upon the altar the first fruits of the food; before drinking, they poured out a libation of wine. This was the god's portion. No one doubted that he was present, that he ate and drank; for did they not see the flame increase as if it had been nourished by the provisions offered? Thus the meal was divided between the man and the god. It was a sacred ceremony, by which they held communion with each other.... The religion of the sacred fire dates from the distant and dim epoch when there were yet no Greeks, no Italians, no Hindus, when there were only Aryas. When the tribes separated they carried this worship with them, some to the banks of the Ganges, others to the shores of the Mediterranean.... Each group chose its own gods, but all preserved as an ancient legacy the first religion which they had known and practiced in the common cradle of their race."

The fire in the house denoted the ancestor, or pit_ri_, and in turn the serpent was revered as a living fire, and so an appropriate symbol of the First Father.--A. W.]

[Footnote 299: "Taittiriyara_n_yaka," Preface, p. 23.]

[Footnote 300: Masi masi vo 'sanam iti _s_rute_h_; Gobhiliya G_ri_hya sutras, p. 1055.]

[Footnote 301: See "Pi_nd_apit_ri_ya_gn_a," von Dr. O. Donner, 1870. The restriction to three ancestors, father, grandfather, and great-grandfather, occurs in the Va_g_asaneyi-sa_m_hita, XIX. 36-37.]

[Footnote 302: There is, however, great variety in these matters, according to different _s_akhas. Thus, according to the Gobhila-_s_akha, the Pi_nd_a Pit_ri_ya_gn_a is to be considered as smarta, not as _s_rauta (pi_nd_a-pit_ri_ya_gn_ah khalv asma_kkh_akhaya_m_ nasti); while others maintain that an agnimat should perform the smarta, a _s_rautagnimat the _s_rauta Pit_ri_ya_gn_a; see Gobhiliya G_ri_hya-sutras, p. 671. On page 667 we read: anagner amavasya_s_raddha, nanvaharyam ity adara_n_iyam.]

[Footnote 303: "Ueber Todtenbestattung und Opfergebraeuche im Veda," in "Zeitschrift der Deutschen Morgenlaendischen Gesellschaft," vol. ix. 1856.]

[Footnote 304: A_s_valayana G_ri_hya-sutras IV. 4, 10.]

[Footnote 305: Manu V. 64-65.]