V.SANCTIMONIOUS.
Illustrated letter
>THE foregoing pages are, I am afraid, rather dry and tiresome, but still, one cannot travel through a country like India with one’s eyes and ears closed; and when it is taken into consideration that we are accustomed to look upon the Indian population with contempt—entirely losing sight of the undeniable fact that when the Gaul and the Saxon were savages, clad in sheep and goat-skins, the Brahmins of India were almost as highly advanced in civilisation as the French and English of the present day—it is natural that in travelling through such a country one should spend a few hours, at least, in studying with interest a people whose history is traceable far beyond the Christian era. W. W. Hunter, in his admirable work on India, traces its history back 3000 years. Vedic temples have been found, showing an advanced state of civilisation several centuries before Christ.
A collection of short lyrical poems, containing 10,580 verses, addressed to the gods, are still in existence.
These people, whom we now treat with contempt, are direct descendants from a nation whose faith, after all, is not so very dissimilar from our own.
Three thousand years have elapsed since theproduction of some of these poems or hymns. Religion, like many other matters, may have changed somewhat since then, yet words remain such as these:—“Neither gods nor men reach unto thee, O Indra; Soma is King of Heaven and earth, the conqueror of all.” To Varuna, also, it is said in prayer:—“Thou art Lord of all, of heaven and earth; thou art the King of all those who are gods, and of all who are men.” This evidently shows that they worshipped one god, although not one alone.
Not very far, after all, from the Creed we are so proud of in the year of our Lord, 1889.
At the rate we are daily modifying and twisting it about, I doubt much if in three thousand years from this we shall have as much of the original as the poor Hindus now have of theirs.
I have just come across another Vedic hymn, which I think I should record before leaving a subject which I hand over to my readers to ponder upon at their leisure.
It is a translation from the Sanskrit text by Professor Max Müller, and is in the public libraries in India:—
“In the beginning there arose a Golden Child. He was the one born Lord of all that is; he established the earth and the sky. Who is the God to whom we shall offer our sacrifice?
“He who gives life; he who gives strength; whose command all the bright gods revere; whose shadow is immortality; whose shadow is death. Who is the God to whom we shall offer our sacrifice?
“He who through his power is the one King of the breaking and awakening world; he whogoverns all—man and beast. Who is the God to whom we shall offer our sacrifice?
“He through whom the sky is bright and the earth is firm; he through whom the heaven was established—nay, the highest heaven; he who measured out the light and the air. Who is the God to whom we shall offer our sacrifice?
“He who by his height looked even over the water-clouds; he who alone is God above all gods. Who is the God to whom we shall offer our sacrifice?
“The yearning for rest is God; that desire for the wings of a dove, so as to fly away and be at rest, with which noble hearts have ached in all ages.
“Where there is eternal light in the world, where the sun is placed; in the immortal, imperishable world, place me, O Soma!
“Where life is free, in the third heaven of heavens; where the worlds are radiant, there make me immortal! Where there is happiness and delight, where joy and pleasure reside, where our desires are attained—there make me immortal!”
Is there in the whole of our Christian Creed a more simple, more beautifully expressed prayer to the Almighty power?
This hymn, as I said before, was the common prayer of a people 3000 years ago.
The Vedic conception of immortality is not less beautiful in its simplicity:—
“Do thou conduct us to heaven, where our friends dwell in bliss, having left on earth the infirmities of the body—free from lameness, free from blindness, free from crookedness of body—therelet us behold our fathers, forefathers, and our children. May the water-shedding spirits bear us upwards, cooling us with their swift motion through the air, and sprinkling us with dew. Bear us, carry us, with all our faculties complete, to the world of the righteous. Crossing the dark valley which spreadeth boundless around him, let the unborn soul ascend to heaven. Wash the feet of him who is stained with sin; let him go upwards with cleansed feet. Crossing the gloom, gazing with wonder in many directions, let the unborn soul go up to heaven.”
From the Vedas has arisen the great sacred Brahmin caste, which even now ranks highest throughout India. It is regarded as pure, stainless, divine, as well as human, worthy of unbounded admiration and worship. The Brahmin is the general preceptor, the guide of many millions of Hindus, residing in the vast country lying between the Himalayas and Cape Comarin.
The Brahmin is not merely the thinking, but he alone is the reading, man. He possesses and reads the holy books—Vedas, Shastras, and Puranas—he knows the Sanskrit and the Hindu literature—he interprets its secrets to his countrymen.
Of course the Brahminical tribes are now numerous all through India, and education is fast stripping them of their divine assumptions, and reducing them gradually to the condition of ordinary humanity. Still, as they become imbued with our modern ideas and bend to European influence, the Brahmins adhere to their studious habits. They find their way tothe “professions,” which are gradually introduced into the Indian empire.
One of the best pleaders in the courts of Calcutta, my friend Jokonanda Mookerjea, is a Brahmin of the highest caste, but like many of his ancient tribe, he has of late years forfeited the good opinion of his people, owing to his having modified somewhat, or rather relaxed, the strict rules of that caste.
One who has not had much communion with Indians can hardly conceive how strictly, even after a century of close contact with Europeans, the natives keep in its integrity the observance of the caste law. A case is on record of a Brahmin felon, confined in the Calcutta gaol in 1864, who tried to starve himself to death, and submitted to most severe flogging rather than eat food, on account of his scruples as to whether the man who had cooked it was equal insanctityto his own caste.
Trades of all kinds are classified according to caste. The goldsmiths rank highest, and claim to be the nearest to the Brahmins; the Dattas, or writers, come next; then follow the bankers, merchants, &c., &c., down to the very lowest grade of menial work—barber, man-servant, cook, cook’s mate, sweeper, and, last of all, meter and dome—this last is the only one which will remove the dead, whether man or beast.
If an animal—even a cat, dog, or rat—lies dead on your premises, not one of the scores of servants employed will remove its carcase. A dome has to be sought ere the nuisance can be abated. The meter is the only one who will empty the slops.
The rules and regulations of caste are thoroughly well arranged, and strictly adhered to. Each caste has its guild, guild funds, charities. Indeed, in this, like in many others, “we,” the conceited civilisers of the world, are following in the footsteps of the most ancient people of the earth.
I fail to see much difference between our trades and labour unions and the “caste” of India, where one man is not allowed to do any other work than that of his “caste.” Hence the unavoidable nuisance of even the humblest paid European having to employ a dozen servants. The cook is not allowed to wash a plate or carry the meal into the parlour; the kitmugar will bring your boots to your dressing room, but his “caste” forbids him to clean them. The native clerk will copy and address a letter, but he will hand it over to the “Péon,” who alone can carry it to its destination. The “Dobbee” will wash your clothes, but you must employ a water carrier to fetch the water used in the laundry. This very interesting trade and labour union, like the “Vedic” creed, dates from an almost “pre-Adamite” period.
The longer I live, the firmer I believe that there is nothing new under the sun, and that from the beginning of the world it has been the lot of humanity to “prey” on one another. My firm belief is that as it was in the beginning it is now, and ever shall be, to the end of the chapter.
A while ago I put down my pen, thinking that I had allowed it to run too freely into very uninteresting matters. I find that the last fewpages are almost as much so. Still, some of my readers may feel interested in such. Those who do not have a very easy remedy—“skip” them. “Scripta manent,” they are written; let them remain.