Lectures on the Origin and Growth of Religion  

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Lectures on the Origin and Growth of Religion is a work by Friedrich Max Müller.

Full text[1]

LECTURES

ORIGIN AND GROWTH RELIGION

AS ILLUSTRATED BY TIB EELIGIOSS OP INDIA.


DELIVERED IN THE CHAPTER HOUSE, WESTMINSTER ABIiEr, IN APRIL, 3IAY, .IND JUNE, 1S73.


F. MAX MOLLEE, M. a.


NEW YORK:

CHARLES SCEIBNER'S SONS.

1879.

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,


HER WHOSE DEAR MEMOUY


Clics art noln DcOintrt,


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The Hibbert Trustees, having requested the publication of these lectares, desire to state some of the circumstances wliich led to their delivery.

The Founder of the Trust, Mr. Robert Hibbert, who died in 1849, bequeathed a sum of money with directions thiit the income should be applied in a manner indicated in general terms by him, but with lai^G latitude of interpretation to the Trustees. The pai-tieulars are stated in a Memoir of Mr. Hibbert pnnted in 1874.^

For many years the Trustees appropriated their funds ahnost entirely to the higher culture of students for the Christian ministry, thus carrying out the in- struction to adopt snch scheme as they " in their un- controlled discretion from time to time " should deem "most conducive to the spread of Christianity in its moat simple and intelligible form, and to the un- fettered exercise of private judgment in matters of religion."

In succeeding years other applications of the fund have been suggested to the Trustees, some of which have been adopted. One of the latest has been the institution of a Hibbert Lecture on a plan similar to that of the "Bampton" and "Congregational" Lect- ures. This proposal, conveyed in a letter which is


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appended to tlie present statement, was made by a few eminent divines and laymen belonging to differ- ent churclies, but united in a common desire for the "really capable and honest treatment -of unsettled problems in theology."

After much deliberation the Trustees considered that i£ they could secure the assistance of suitiible Lecturets, they ■would be promoting the object of the Testator, by courses on the various historical religions of the world. They were so fortunate as to obtain the consent of Professor Jlax Miiller to begin the series, and to take as his subject the religions of India. They were also r^-catly indebted to tJie Dean of AVestminster, who procured for them from the Bcsti-d of Works the use of the Chapter House of the Abbey. On the announcement of the Lectures, there was great difficulty in meeting the numerous appli- cations for tickets, which was only overcome by the kind consent of Professor Max Miiller to deliver each lecture twice.

Encouraged by the success of this first course, the Ti'ustees have arrangetl for a second. It will be undertaken by M. le Pi^e Renouf, Her JIajesty's Inspector of Schools, and the subject will be the Religions of Egj-pt ; the time proposed is bstween Easter and Whitsuntide of next year.


,CtH>Qlc


MEMORIAL FOR THE FOUNDATION OF A IIIBBERT LECTURE.


To THE IIlBBRRT TliUSTEES :

Geiilleaieii, — We, tlll^ vinikrsigiied, beg to draw yoav attsMi- tion to the following stiteuient- —

From the fact that all the chief divimtj s<,hools o£ this couo try are still kid under triditioml restraint from whi li other bran-^hes of inquiry havD long hecn omancipit^,! the hici'ision ct tlicological questions is Jiibitu'tllj affecttd by eccloaiastieil interests and party predilections an 1 fails to rLCcive the Intel lectual respect and coiifldtnce which ari, realilj ici-oidtd to learning and research in anj otln,i fitld Thcrt, la no re xaon why competent knowledge Tnd critical skill i£ cncourigcl to exercise tlieniselves in the di inteiestel pursuit of tiuth honll be less fruitful in religious tlian in social and physical ideas; nor can it be doubted that an audience is ready to welcome any really capable and honest treatment of unsettled problems in theology. The time, wo think, is coine, when a distinct pro- vision for the free consider.ition o£ such problems by scholars qualifled to handle them may be expected to yield important i-esnits. Notwithstanding the tra<litional restraints whicli in England have interfered with an unprejudiced treatment of the theory and history of religion, a rich literature has poured in from the liberal schools of Germany and Holland, and has more or less trained and quickened the mind of the present generation, so that there cannot now be wanting qualified laborers in that reoi^anization of religious thought which is now taking place in om- midst. Change of sentiment and feeling cannot ho sim- ply imported from abroad ; t!II thej' pass throiigli tie minds of such men they have no local coloring and take no natural growth; and to modify Knglish opinion and institutions there i.s need of English scliolars. That need we think your encouragement can do something to supply. Svidi institutions as the Bampton Lee^


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JIEJIORIAL.


Tire at the University of Oxford, and the younger foundation o£ the Congrcgation.il Lecture among one briinch of ortlioJos Bon conformists, have done much to direct the public mind to certain well-dulined views of Christianity. We behove tliat a similar institution might prove oE high service in pronioting in- dependence of judgment combined with reli;j:ioiis reverence by exllibiliiig clearly from time to time aomc of the mof^t important repult? ii:" ri i'i':il '^uilv ':i lln' ^i.mI U]^ of philosophy, of

Blbli.-,l , ■, . ! ■

Wt !■ I I ■ . . I . ., ■ . I .1 l.'.ri- the expediency

of ff-tub::-!' -I- .: ■■ I.. i-:;i^-- ii:i.'. )■ "li.- ■■j:u,m oi llic " Ilibbert

Lecture," or miy other designation that may seem appropi'iate.

A course, consisting of not fewer than six. lectures, might be

delivered every two or three years in London, or in tlie chief

towns of Great Britiiin in rotation. After delivery, the course

sliould bo published under tlie dircetion of the managers of the

lecture; and thus by degrees the issues of unfettered inquiry

would be pliiccd in a compact form before the edoeiited public.

(Sis„o,l)

James Maistineau.

Ahtiiur p. Stanley.

JOHX H. TllOM.

Chaui.es U'ickstekd. William B. CAiirESTE F. Max Muller. Gkohok W. Cox. .T. Muiii. John Tulloch.


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William


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TABLE OF CONTENTS.


Problem of the origin of religion 1

Strauss: Have we still any religion .... 2

Antiq^uitj- oi religion 3

Science of reli^on 5

Differenee between ancient and modern belief . . 8

Definitions of religion 5

Etymological meaning of reli^on 10

Historial aspect of religion 12

Definitions of religion by Kant and Ficlito ... 13

Relij^on, with or without worship . . . 15 Definition of Scbkiermacher (dependence), ahd of llcgel

(freedom) 18

Conite and Fouerbaoh 19

Difficulty of defininr; religion 20

Specific characteristic of religion ..... 20 Eeltgion as a subjective faculty for the appreh(fn?ion of

the infinite 21

The three functions of sense, reason, and faith . . 24

The meaning of infinite 2S

Can the finite apprehend the infinite - . . . 2S

Conditions accepted on both sides .... 59

Apprehension of the infinite 33

1. The infinitely great 33

2. The infinitely small 36

Growth of the idea of the iuflnifc .... 40

No finite without an infinite ^3


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LECTURE II.


The first impulse to the pei-ception of the infinite Maiia, a Molnnesian naiiui for the iafinite FutisSii^in, llie original fonu of all religion Do Browses, the inventor of fetishism OriL'Ui of tho name of fetit^h Wronw extension of the name fetish Usefulness of the study of savage tribes Frequent i-eti'oj!;ression in religion . Dillieulty of stuilj-ing the ruligion of savage Language of savages .... N-|imenilf of =iivagts .... K"o bi-torv iiuion- savages No iiiovals iitnoiig savage.^ .

Sludy of tlie religion of literary nations Study of the religion of savages Inflnenee of public opinion on travelers Absence of recognized authorities among s; Authority of priests .... ULiiviiHii;;ne^3 of savages to talk of religioc Willi' extension of tlic meaning of fetish Amoeeilents o! fetishism Ubiquiry nf felisbisni No rtligion consists of fetishism only Higlier elements in African religion. Wai

Zoolatry

Fsyeliolatry

Many-sidedness of African religion Supposed psyehologieal necessity of fetishism Whence the supernatural predicate of a fetish Accidental origin of fetishism Are savages like children

The four steps

Fetishism not a primary form of religion .


Gooi^lc


LECTURE m.

XDIA, so :


E AKCIEKT LITEKATl PLIES MATERIALS I


Usefulness of the study of literary religions

Growth of religious ideas iu Judaism, Zoi-oastrianisni,

Growtli of religion in India

Eight posilion of the Veda in the science of religion

Discovery of Sanskrit literature

Buddhism the frontier between ancient and modern lit- erature in India

Tlie Veda proclaimed as revealed

Historical character of the Vedie language .

The four strata of Vedie literature

J. Sutra period, 500 b. C

II. Brfilimana period, GOO-800 b, c

in. Mantra period, 800-1000 n. c

IV. A'Aandaspeiiod, 1000-1010 B. c

The Veda handed down hy oral tradiiion

Postscript to the tliird lecture ......

LECTURE IV.

THE WORSHIP OF TANGIBLE, aEM I- TANGIBLE, ANI ISTASGIBLB OBJECTS.

Evidence of religion never cnfirel)' sensuous

External revelation

Internal revelation ........

The senses and tlieir evidence .....

The meaning of manifest

Division of sense-objects into tangible and semi-tangible

Trees

Mountains

The Earth

Semi-tangible objects

Intangible objects ... ....



Te tmom s i tho acdents as to the cliaracter of the

el

T t mony f the Veda

Te timonj of ho undivided Aryan language Ongin of language ...,..,

Early concepts

Everything named as active

Active doea not mean human

Grammatical gender

Auxiliary verbs

AS, to breathe

BHCtogrow

VAS, to dwell

Primitive oxpresfion

likeness, orii.dnally conceived as negation

Standing epitliets ...... . .

Tangible objeeta among the Vedic deities Semi-tangible objects among the Vedii; deilie^

Fire

Tiie Sun

The Dawn

Audible objects among the Veilie deities

Thunder

Wind

Marutiis, the storm-gods ......

The liiiin and the Kaincr ......

Vedic ]jantheon .......

The Devag

The iMblc and the invisibk^


LECTURE V.


Nihil in fide quod non ante fuorit ii

Thoogoiiy of the Veda

The infinite in its earliest conceptio

Aditi, tlte inlinite

Aditi not a modern deity

Natural origin of Aditi


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Darkness and sin 232

Iiiimortalitj' 223

Other reli^oiis idoas in tlie Ve<Ja 221

The idea of lavf 22G

The Sanskrit llitn 233

The original mi-aniag of Rita. 230

Sforyof Sarami 233

Jlita, the sacrifice 235

The development of fiita 236

Difficulty of ti-anslaling 23(i

Was liiin a common Aryan concept . . . .23 7

Rita is Asha in Zend 2i0

LECTURE VI.

ON hekotheism( PoiYTijE]sajMOxo'rni:isM, and atheism. Is monolheism a primitive form of religion The seicnee o£ language and the science of relig

The predicate of God

materials supplied hy the Teda


Henotliei The Sun Tlie Sun The Sun


his natural aspects ....

a Eupernatural power

a secondary position .... The Sky as Dyaus, or the Illuminator . Struggle for supremacy between Dyaiis and Indra Hymn to Indi-a, as a supremo god . Hymn to Varuna ns a supreme god Ilenotheism, the dialectic period of rcligioi The supremacy of different Devas Further development of lipnotlieism Tendency towards monolhelsni Visvakarman, the maker of all things Prn^apati, the loi-d of creatures . Tendency towards atheism Faith in Tndra, doubts about Indra Difference between lionest and vulgar atheism .


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LECTURE VII.





Tlii^ object of divine appellafimi .... Neuter names liiglier than mafculino or feminine?

Aininn, the subjective self

Annan, the objective self .... Tlie philosophy of the Upaiiisliads

r.>a,vSp!>ti .111(1 Inilra

Yaiynavalkva and Maiireyi

Tani:iaiia'X,iiikctas

Eelii^ion of ib.' Upaiiisha-ls .... Evolntion in Vedic relJsio,, ....



300 301 302 303 30G

31G 3-30 32i


The foor gtages oi- Asranins ....

First staje, Studentship

Second stiige, Jlarri^^d lAh ....



330

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Cooi^lc


L

THE PERCEPTION OF THE INFINITE.


THE PROBLEM OF THE OEIGDI OF RELIGION. Ho"W 13 it that we have a religion? This is a qoestion which has not been asked for the first time in these latter days, but it is, nevertheless, a question which sounds startling even to ears that have been hardened by the din of many battles, fought for the conquest of truth. How it is that we exist, how it is that we perceive, how it is that we foi-m concepts, how it is that we compare precepts and concepts, add and subtract, multiply and divide them — all these are problems with which everybody is more or less familiar, from the days in which he first opened the pages of Plato or Aristotle, of Hume or. Kant. Sensation, perception, imagination, reasoning, every-; thing in fact which exists in our own consciousness, has had to defend the right and reason of its exist- ence ; but the question. Why we believe, why we are, or imagine we are conscious of things which we can neither perceive with our senses, nor conceive with our reason — a question, it would seem more natural to ask than any other — has but seldom re- ceived, even from the greatest philosophers, that at- tention which it seems so fully to deserve.


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2 THE TEECEPTION OF THE INFISITE.

STRAUSS: HAVE TTE STILL AST RELIGION?

What CJiH be less satisfactory than the manner in which tliis problem has lately been pushed into the fovegroiinJ of popular controversy? Stranss, in many respects a most acute reasoiier, puts before iis in his last worlc, " The OH and the New Faith," tlie ques- tion, " Have we still any religion?" To a chullenge put in this form, the only answer that coulil be given would be an appeal to statistics ; and here we should soon be told thut, out of a hundred thousand people, there is hardly one who professes to be without re- ligion. If another answer was wanted, the question ought to hiive been put in a different form. Strauss ought before all things to have told us clearly what he himself understands by reJigion. He ought to have defined religion both in its psychological and historical development. But what does he do in- stead? He simply takes the old definition which Scbleiermiicher gave of religion, viz., tb;it it consists in a feeling of absolute dependence, and he supple- ments it by a definition of Feuerbach's, that the es- sence of ail religion is covetousness, which manifests itself in prayer, sacrifice, and faith. He then con- cludes, because there is less of prayer, crossing, and attending mass in our days than in the Middle Ages, that, therefore, there is little left of real piety and re- ligion. I have used, as much as possible, Strauss's own words.

But where has Strauss or anybody else proved that true religion manifests itself in prayer, crossing, and attending mass only, and that all who do not pray, who do not cross themselves, and who do not attend mass, have no longer any religion at all, and no belief


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THE TEECEPTIOM OF THE INFINITE. 3

in God? If we read on, we are almost tempted to admit that M. Reiian was right in saying that those poor Germans try very hard to be irreligious and atheistieal, but never succeed. Strausa says: "The world is to ua the workshop of the Rational and the Good. That on which we feel ourselves absolutely dependent is by no means a brute power, before which we must bow in silent resignation. It is order and law, reason and goodness, to which we surrender ourselves with loving confidence. In our inmost nat- ure we feel a kinship between ourselves and that on which we depend. In our dependence we are free, and pride and humility, joy and resignation, are mingled together in our feeling for all that exists."

If that is not religion, how is it to be called? The whole argument of Strauss amounts, in fact, to this. He retains religion as the feeling of dependence, in the full sense assigned to it by Schleiermacher, but lie rejects the element added by Feuerbach, namely, the motive of covetousness, as both untrue and unworthy of religion. Strauss himself is so completely in the dark as to the true essence of religion, that when, at the end of the second chapter of his book, he asks himself whether he still has a religion, he can only answer, "Yes or No, according as you understand it."

Yes, but this is the very point which ought to have been determined first, namely, what we ought to un- derstand by religion. And here I answer that in or- der to understand what religion is, we must first of all see what it has been, and how it has come to be what it is.

ANTIQUITY OF RELIGION.

Religion is not a new invention. It is, if not aa old as the world, at least as old as the world we


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i THE PERCEI'TIOS OF THE INFIMTE.

know. Aa soon almost as we know anytliing of the thoughts and feelings of mnn, we find him in posses- sion of religion, or rather possessed by religion. The ■oldest literary documents are almost everywhere relig- ions. " Our earth," as Herder ^ says, " owes the seeds of all higher culture to religious tradition, whether literary or oral." Even if we go beyond the age of literature, if we explore tlie deepest levels of human thought, ire can discover, in the crude ore wliich was made to supply the earliest coins or counters of the huraiin mind, the presence of religions ingredients. Before the Aiyan languages separated — and wlio is to tell how many thonsand years before the first hymn of the Veda or the firat line of Homer that ethnic schism may have happened? — there existed in them an expression for light, and from it, from the root div, to shine, the adjective deva had been formed, meaning originally " bright." Afterwards this word deva was applied, as a comprehensive designation, to all the bright powers of the morning and the spring, as opposed to all the dark powers of the night and the winter ; but when we meet with it for the first time in the oldest literary documents, it is already so far removed from this its primitive etymological mean- ing, that in the Veda there are hut few passages where we can with certainty translate it still by " bright." The bright dawn is addressed in the Veda as devi ushas, but it must remain doubtful whether the old poets still felt in that address the etymolog- ical meaning of brightness, or whether we ought not to translate deva in the Veda, as deus in Latin, by God, however difficult we may find it to connect any definite meaning with such a translation. Still, what


1 Hprder, Meen sur GesrAkhte der Menschhtit, 9. Biicli. p. 130 (ed. BrHckliaus).




THE PERCF-PTION OF THE INFINITE.

we know for certain is, that deva came to mean "god," because it originally meant "bright," and we (•annot doubt tliat something beyond the meaning of biightness had attached itself to the word deva be- fore the ancestors of the Indiana and Italians broke up from their common home.

Thus, whether we descend to the lowest roots of our own intellectual growth, or ascend to the loftiest heights of modem speculation, everywhere we find religion as a power that conquers, and conquers even those who think that they have conquered it.

SCIENCE OF EELIGION, Such a power did not escape the keen-eyed philos- ophers of ancient Greece. They, to whom the world of thought seems to have been as serene and trans- parent as the air which revealed the sea, the shore, and the sky of Athens, were startled at a very early time by the presence of religion, aa by the appearance of a phantom which they could not explain. Here was the beginning of the science of religion, which is not, as has often been said, a science of to-day or of yesterday. The theory on the origin of religion put forward by Feuerbach in his work " On the Essence of Christianity," which sounds to us like the last note of modern despair, was anticipated more than two thousand years ago by the philosophers of Greece. With Feuerbach religion is a radical evil, inherent in mankind — the sick heart of man ia the source of all religion, and of all misery. With Herakleitos, in the sixth century B. c, religion is a disease, though a sacred disease.^ Such a saying, whatever we may


1 See Heradiii Ephesi


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6 THE PERCEPTION OF THE INFIKITE.

think of its truUi, shows, at all events, thiit religion and tlie origin of religious ideas had formed tlie sub- ject of deep and anxious tbouglit at the very begin- ning of wliat we call the history of philoaopliy.

I doubt, however, whether there was in the Sityiiiga of Herakleitos the same hostile spirit against all re- ligion as tliat which pervades the writings of Feuer- bacb. The idea that to believe is meritorious was not an ancient Greek idea, and therefore to doubt was not yet regarded as a crime, except where it in- terfered with public institutions. There was, no doubt, an orthodox party in Greece, but we can hardly say that it was fanatical ; ^ nay, it is ex- tremely difficult to understand at what time it ac- quired its power and whence it took its coherence.^

Herakleitos certainly blames those who follow sing- ers (avi&tii),^ and whose teacher is the crowd, who pray to idols, as if they were to gossip with the walls of houses, not knowing what gods and lieroes really are. Epikouros does the same. But, unlike Epi- kouros, Herakleitos nowhere denies the existence of invisible Gods or of the One Divine. Only when he saw people believing in what the singers, such as

Tt airisir «pii' vomp f*eT<, omong the Spuria, p. 51. It seems to lue to liava the full, massive, and nuble fins of Herakleitos. It is true thnt oliioit means rather opinion and prejudice in Reneral tlian religious belief; but to the philosophical mind of Herakleitos the latter is a subdivision only of the former. Opinion in general might be called a disease, but bardlv a pacred disease, nor can sacred diw ase be taken here aitlier in the sense of jrreat and fearful disease, or in the technical senas of epilepsy. It I am wrong, I share my error with one of the heat Greek acholam and mj-thologists, for Welcker takes the words of Herakleitos in the same sense in nhieh I have taken them. They are Bometimes ascribed lo Epikouros; anybovr they be- long to the oldest wisdom of Greece.

1 Lange, GescMchte dea Malerialismm, i. 4.

» See E. Curtins, tber die. Bedeaiuns van Delphi fir dU Griechisnha C»li»r, re?trede am H Februar, 1878.

  • Heraclili RcUqvia, cii., cxxvi.


Cooi^lc


THE PERCEPTION OF THE INFINITE. 7

Homer, and Hesiod, told them about Zeus and Hera, about Hermes and Aphrodite, he seems to have mar- veled ; and the only explanation which he could find of BO strange a phenomenon was, that it arose from an affection of the mind, which the physician might try to heal, whensoever it showed itself, but which he eonld never hope to stamp out altogether.

In a cevtaia sense, therefore, the science of religion ia as little a modern invention as religion itself. Wherever there is human life, there is religion, and wherever there is religion, the question whence it came cannot be long suppressed. When children once begin to ask questions, they ask the why and the wherefore of everything, religion not excepted ; nay, I believe that the first problems of what we call philosophy were suggested by religion.

It has sometimes been asked why Tliales should be called a philosopher, and should keep his place on the first page of every history of philosophy. Many a school-boy may have wondered why to say that water was the beginning of all things should be called philosophy. And yet, childish as that saying may sound to us, it was anything but childish at the time of Thales. It was the first bold denial that the gods had niiide the world ; it was the first open pro- test against the religion of the crowd — a protest that l]jid to he repeated again and again before the Greeks could be convinced that such thinkers as Herakleitos (Reliqui^, xx.) and Xenophanes had at least as good a right to speak of the gods or of God as Homer and other itinerant singers.

No doubt, at that early time, what was alone im- portant was to show that what was believed by the crowd was purely fanciful. To ask how those fanci-


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8 THE PERCEPTION OF THE INFINITE.

ful opinions of the crowd had arisen, was a problem belonging to a later age. Still, even that problem was not entirely absent from the minds of the earliest thinkers of Greece ; for no one could have given the answer ascribed to Heralvleitos who had not asked liimself the question which we ask ourselves to-day : Wliat, then, is the origin of religion ? or, to put it into more modern language, How is it that we believe, that we accept what, as ive are told by enemy and friend, cannot be supplied to us by our senses or es- tablished by our reason ?

DIFFERENCE BETWEEK AXCIENT AND JIODEKN BE- LIEF,

It may be said that, when Herakleitos pondered on oiij[r«, or belief, he meant something very different from what we mean by religion. No doubt he did ; for if there is a word that has changed from century to century, and has a different aspect in every country in which it is used — nay, which conveys peculiar shades of meaning, as it is used by every man, woman, or child — it is religion. In our ortlinary language we use religion in at least three different senses ; first, as the object of belief ; secondly, as the power of beiief ; thirdly, as the manifestation of be- lief, whether in acts of worship or in acts of real piety.

The same uncertainty prevails in other languages. It would be difficult to translate our word religion into Greek or Sanskrit; nay, even in Latin, reiigio does by no means cover all that religion comprehends in EngKsh, We need not be surprised, therefore, at the frequent misunderstandings, and consequent wrangllngs, between those who write on religion, without at least having made so much clear to them-


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THE PERCEPTION OF THE INFINITE. 9

selves and others, whether by religion they mean re- ligious dogma, religtoua faith, or religious acts.

I have dwelt on this point in order to show you that it is not from mere pedantry if, at the very out- set of these lectures, I insist on the necessity of giv- ing a definition of religion, before we attempt another step in our journey that is to lead ns as near as pos- sible to the hidden sources of our faith.

DEFINITIONS OP RELIGION.

It was, I think, a veiy good old custom never to enter upon the discussion of any scientific problem without giving beforehand definitions of the principal terms that had to be employed. A book on logic or grammar generally opened with the question. What is logic ? What is grammar ? No one would write on minerals without first explaining what he meant by a mineral, or on art without defining, as well as he might, his idea of art. No doubt it was often aa troublesome for the author to give sncli preliminary definitions as it seemed useless to the reader, who was generally quite incapable of appreciating in the beginning their full value. Thus it happened that the rule of giving verbal definitions came to be looked upon after a time aa useless and obsolete. Some authors actually took credit for no longer giving these verbal definitions, and it soon became tho fash- ion to say that the only true and complete definition of what was meant by logic or grammar, by law or religion, was contained in the books themselves which treated of these subjects.

But what has been the result ? Endless misunder- standings and controversies, which might have been avoided in many cases, if both sides had clearly de-


C.ooi^lc


10 THE I'ERCEn'IOS OF THE IKFIKITE.

fined what they did, and what they did not under- stand by certain wovds.

With regiird to religion, it is no doubt extremely difficidt to give a definition. The word rose to tlie surface tliousanda of years ago ; it wl\s retained while what was meant by it went on changing from cent- ury to century, and it is now often applied to the very opposite of what it was originally intended to signify.

ETY5I0LOGICAL MEANING OP KELIGIO.

It is usek'sa with words of tliis kind to appeal to their etymological meaning. The etymological mean- ing of a word is always extremely important, both psychologically and historically, because it indicates the exact point from which certain ideas stiu'ted. But to know the small source of a river is very dif- ferent from knowing the whole couree of it ; and to know the etymology of a word is veiy different from being able to trace it through all the eddies and cat- aracts through which it has been tossed and tumbled, before it became what it is now.

Besides, as with rivers, so with words, it is by no means easy to put our fijiger on the exact spot from whence they bubble forth. The Ronia^is themselves felt doubtful a3 to the original meaning of religio. Cicero, as is well known, derived it from re-legere, to gather up iigaiii, to take iip, to consider, to ponder — opposed to nee-K</ere, to neglect; while others de- rived it from re-Uyare, to fasten, to hold back. I be- lief myself that Cicero's etymology is the right one; but if religio ^ meant originally attention, regard, rev-

t Religio, if it was derived tmiJi rS-legere, would liavc nic;int "rJginally


CiioqIc


THE PEF.CEPTIOS OF THE INFINITE, 11

erence, it is quite clear that it did not continue long to retain thiit simple meaning.

meant originallv to gather, to lake Dp from among other things ; then to eeteem, to love. Wej/ijo (nec-legu) meant not to tahe up, to lea»e unno- ticed, to neglecl. laielligo meant to gather logethar with Other things, to connect together. Id arrange, claexlfy, undersCatid.

Bilego occurs in the senee of taking back, gathering up (Ovid. Met. S. 1781 ! Janiia difBcilis fllo est invents relecto, " The difficiill door was found by the thread [ot Ariadne], which was gathered np again." It is fre- quently used in the sense of travelling over the same ground ; Egreasi re- leguut caiiipos (Val. Fl, 8. IJI). In this meaning Cicero thinks that it was used, when applied to religion : Qui omnia quie ad cultum deorum pertinerent di igenter retraclarent et (amquam relegerent, sunt dioti reli- giosi e\ relegendo ut eleganler es eligendo, (amquani a diligendo dili- genler ex mtelligendo mtelligeiiter his enim in verbis omnibus inest vis legendi eadem quia in religiose (Cic. de Nat. Deer. 2, 2S, 73), "People were called religious from relegere, because thej went over ngain, as it were, and reconsidered carefnilv wiiatever referred to the wordiip of gods."

Selegere would fherefoie have meant ori^nally much the same as lespi- cere, re^ereri, whith, from meaning to look bock, came to mean to respect.

An ancient author qnoted by GcUius (4. S) makes a distinction between relis'iosue, which he uses in the sense of superstitious, and re%(WJ. " Rb- ligentem esse oportet," he eaya, "religiosum nefas: " it is right to be ref- erent, wrong to be religious, i, e. superetitious. The diffleiiliy tliat rSli- ^D has retained its long e, being also written sometimes relllgio (from red- tigio). is Dot even mentioned by Cicero. Lucrefiiis uses both reduce and celatum with a long e.

Eeligio, used subjectively, meant lonscientiousnesa. reverence, owe, and was not originally restricted to reverence for the gmls. Thus we read : Keligioiie jurisjurandi ac metu deorum in testimoniis diccndis commoveri, " lo be moved in giving evidence by the reverence for an oath, and by the fearot the gods" (C. Font. 9. 20). Very soon, howev'er, it became mora and more restricted to reverence for (he gods and divine things. People began to speak of a man's religion, meaning his piefy, his (ailh in the gods, his obeervance of ceremonies, Ull at lost au entire system of faith was colied religiones or religio.

The other derivation of religio is supported by high authorities, such as Servius, Lactanlius, St. Augustin, who derive it from religart, lo hind up, to fasten, to moor. From this point of view religio would have meant originally what binds us, holds us back. I doubt whether with Pott (Elym. Forsch. i. p. 201) we can say that such a derivation is imposnible. No doubt a noun like religio cannot be derived direct from a rerii of the first conjugation, such as reliyare. That would give us reVi/atio, just as iMgnrc gives us oMigatio. But verbs of tlie first conjugation are tliem-

from Iheir more eimpie roots. Thus, by the side of opinaii we have


.y


TUE PEIiCEPTION or THE IJJFIKITE.


HISIOKICAL ASPECT OF EELIGION. It niuBt be clear tbat -when we have to use words which have had a long history of their own, we can neither use them in thtir primitive efcymologicul mean- ing, nor can we use them at one and the same time in all the senses through which they have passed. It is utterly useless to say, for instance, that religion meant tliis, and did not mean that ; that it meant faith or worship, or morality or ecstatic vision, and that it did not mean fear or hope, or surmise, or re- verence of the gods. Religion may mean all this; perhaps at one time or other the name was nsed in every one of these meanings ; but who has a right to say that rehgion shall at present or in future have one of these meanings, and one only ? The mere sav- age may not even have a name for religion ; still when the Papua squats before his karwar, clasping his hands over his forehead, and asking himself whether what he is going to do is I'ight or wrong, that is to him religion. Among several savage tribes, where tliere

  • \as no sign of a knowledge of divine beings, raia-

sionaries have recognized in the worship paid to the spirits of the departed the iirst faint beginnings of

o/»B?o ana iiecpinas ; bv tho side of rthtilare, reieHis and rebellio. Ebel (Kuhti's Zdlnekrifl, iv.'p. 144) pointB out that by the ^ide of lls«n we have TiOw. originally ft binder, ond that, therefore, ribsio from rdt- gare could be defended, at all events, Grammalically. I beheve that is to. Stiil there is no trace of rtlisare having been used bj- the Romans Ihem- eelves in the sense of reBtmining, still lesa of revering or fearing, and Ihefs after all are the original meaningB in which reli^ firat appeara in Latin. Ebel thinks (hatiea:, i<jj-«, ia likewlBe derived from &>n«, like jw, from SansliTit wi, to join. Tlie Oscan lig-ud, ISge, might seem to confirm this. But Lodner's compariaon of Ux with the Old N. %, Eng. lav,, what is laid down, and is settled (G*»*i in German) deserves consideration (Bee Curfiua : GiiVcA, Kiijintingie, i. p- 3G7), thongh it must he borne in ii.iiid that the transition of li and x into g '^ irregular.


>y


THE PEIiCErilON OF THE INFINITE, 13

religion ; nor should we hesitate to recognize the last glimmerings of religion wlien we see a recent phil- osopher, after declaring hoth God and gods obsolete, falling down before a beloved memory, and dedicate iiig all his powers to the service of humanity. When the pnblican, standing afar off, would not lift np so much as his eyes unto heavon, but smote upon his breast, saying, " God be merciful to me a sinner," that was to him religion. When Thales declared that all things were full of the gods, and when Bndha de- nied that there were any devas or gods at all, both were stating their religious convictions. When the young Brahman lights the fire on his simple altar at the rising of the sun, and prays, in the oldest prayer of the world, " May the Sun quicken our minds ; " or when, later in life, he discards all prayer and sacrifice as useless, nay, as hurtful, and silently buries his own self in the Eternal Self — al! this is religion. Schilleii declared that he professed no religion ; and why ? From religion. How, then, shall we find a definition of religion snfficiently wide to comprehend all these phases of thought ?

BBFISITIOSS OP RELIGION ET KANT AND TTCHTB. It mrvy be nsefnl, however, to examine at least a few of the more recent definitions of religion, if only to see that almost every one is met by another, which takes the very opposite view of what religion is or ought to be. According to Kant, religion is morality. When we look upon all our moral duties as divine commands, that, he thinks, constitutes religion.^ And


blossen Vernunff,"


.y


14 THE PEECEITION OF THE KFINIIE.

we must not forget tliat Kant docs not consider tbat duties are moral duties because tliey rest on a divine comniinid (that would be, according to Kant, merely revealed religion) ; on tlie contrary, he tells us that because we are directly conscious of them as duties, therefore we look upon them as divine commands. Any outward divine authority is, in the eyes of a Kantian philosopher, something purely phenomena!, or, as we should say, a mere concession to human weakness. An established religion ^ or the faith of a church, though it cannot at first dispense with statu- tory laws which go beyond pnre morality, must, he thinks, contain in itself a principle which in time will make the religion of good moral conduct its vea! goal, and enable us in the end to surrender the preliminary faith of the Church.

Ficbte, Kant's immediate successor, takes tlie very opposite view. Religion, he says, is never practical, and was never intended to influence our life. Pure morality suffices for that, and it is only a corrupt society that has to use religion as an impulse to moral action. Religion is knowledge. It gives to a man a clear insight into himself, answers tlie high- est questions, and thus imparts to us a complete har- mony with ourselves, and a thorough sanctification to our mind.

' Hfc KAut, I. 0. p. 183; ' W 1 d J d [ ataluarisclien Geaefzen

ernil.ult Kiidie nur in so le d w hra kann, aU sic in sict ein

Prind|) ecitliiilt, akh dem re V f gi b n (als deinjeiiigen, der,

wetin cr practisch ist, in jsdeni Ql be 1 h die Efiiginn aiisinaciit)

be?t!in'lig 2ii niiliem, und den K h g1 Ii { ehdera was an iliin histi>-

rirch 1^1.) mitder Zeit eutbel k Bowerden wir in diesen Ge-

Betzcn nnd an den Banraten d d t g griindelen Kirulie cioch einen

Dicnat (ciilhis) der Kipohe 9 f k n, als diese ilire Uhren

Htid Anorclnnng jprtcrztit auf 1 Z k (eiren iiffentlichen Re-


.y


THE PERCEPTION OF THE INFIXITE. 15

Now Kant may be perfectly right in saying that religion ought to be morality, or Ficbte may be per- fectly right in saying that it ought to be knowledge. What I protest against ia, that either the one or the other should be taken as a satisfactory definition of what is or was universally meant by the word re- ligion.

RELIGION, ■WITH OR WITHOUT ■WORSHIP.

There is another view according to which religion consists in the worship of divine beings, and it has been held by many writers to be impossible that a religion could exist -without some outward forms, — without what is called a eultus. A religions reformer has a pei-fect i-ight to say so, but the historian of re- ligion could easily point out that religions have ex- isted, and do exist still, without any signs of external worship.

In the last number of the " Journal of the Anthro- pological Society" (February, 1878), Mr. C. H. E. Cai'niichael draws our attention to a very interest- ing account of a mission established by Benedictine monks in New Nnrsia in Western Australia, north of the Swan River, in the diocese assigned to the Ro- man Catholic Bishop of Perth in 1845.1 These Ben- edictine monks took great pains to ascertain the re- ligious sentiments of the natives, and for a long time they seem to have been unable to discover even the faintest traces of anything that could he called relig- ion. After three years of mission life, Monsignor Salvado declares that the natives do not adore any

I MemorU Slnrkie ddl" AialraSa, pariicolarmeaie della. Misstone Sen- tdeltina di Nuoca Norcin, e degli vd e ccstvmi i/eijli Auslraiiani, per Mgr. D. RHdesinilo Salvailo, 0- S. B., Vescovo di Potto Vittoria. Eonis,


.y


16 TIIK PERCEPTIO-M OF THE INTINTTE.

deity, whotber true or false. Yet he proceeds to tell us that they believe in an Omnipotent Being, creator of heaven imA earth, whom they call Motogon, and whom they imagine as a very tall, powerful, and wise man of their own country aud complexion. His mode of creation was by breathing. To create the earth, he said, "Earth, come forth!" and he breathed, and the earth was created. So with the 8un, the trees, the kangaroo, etc. Motogon, the au- thor of good, is confronted by Oienga^ the author of evil. This latter being is the unehaiuer of the whirl- wind and the storm, and the invisible author of the death of their children, wherefore the natives fear him exceedingly. Moreover, as Motogon has long since been dead and decrepit, they no longer pay him any worship. Nor is Cienga, although the natives believe that he afflicts them with calamities, propi- tiated by any service. " Never," the bishop con- cludes, " did I observe any act of external worship, nor did any indication suggest to me that they prac- ticed any internal worship,"

If from one savj^e race we turn to another, we find among the Hidatsa or Grosventre Indians of the Missouri the very opposite state. Mr. Matthews,^ who has given us an excellent account of this tribe, says (p. 48) : " If we use the term worship in its most extended sense, it may be said that, besides 'the Old Man Immortal,' or 'the Great Spirit,' ' the Great Mystery,' they worship everything in nature. Not man alone, but the sun, the moon, the stars, all the lower animals, all trees and plants, rivers and lakes, many bowlders and other separated


Gooi^lc


THE PEKCEPTiON OF THE INFINITE. 17

rocks, even some hills and buttes wliieli stand' alotie, — ill short, everything not made by human handa, which liaa an independent being, or can be individ- ualized, possesses a spirit, or, more properly, a shade. To these shades some respect or consideration is due,

but not equally to all The sun is held in great

veneration, and many valuable sacrifices are made to it."

Here then among the very lowest of human beings we see how some worship everything, while others woi'ship nothing, and who shall say which of the two is the more trnly religious ?

Let ns now look at the conception of religion, such as we find it among the most cultivated races of Europe, and we shall find among them the same di- vergence. Kant declares that to attempt to please the Deity by acts which have no moral value, by mere cuUxis, i. e. by external worship, is not religion, but simply superstition.^ I need not quote authori- ties on the other side who declare that a silent re- ligion of the heart, or even an active religion in com- mon hfe, is nothing without an external worship, without a priesthood, without ritual.

We might examine many more definitions of re-

1 " Alles, was, ausser dam galea Lebenswandel, der Mennch noch thnn zn konnen yermeiiil, um Gott woliIgefaUig zu werder, ist blosaer Reli- ^onawahn und AEterdienst GotlBs " (1. c. iv. 3, p. 205). "OhderAn- dacliHer Mlnen Btntutanmassigen Gang zuc Kirche, oderob ereirB WrII- fahit naeti dea Heiligtliumern in Loretto oder Talibttna anslellt, ob er seine Gabelaformeln mit den Tjippen, oder wie der Tibetaner (welchar giaubt, dua diese WUneche, audi acliriftlich ftnfgesetzt, wenn sie nnr dureh irgsnd Etwaa, z. B. ant Flagsen geachrieben, duwh den Wind, oder in einer Biielise eineeschlosBen, ala eine Schwnngnmschine mit der Hand bewegt werden ibren Zweck ebenso gut erraichen) ea dnrcli ein Gebetrad an die himmlisclie Behorde bringt, oder was fur ein Surrogat des morali- schen Dienates Goltes es aach immer sein mag, daa iat Alles einerlei und von gleithen Werlh " (p. 208).


.y


18 THE PERCEPTION OF THE INFINITE.

ligion, and we should jilwaya find that they contain wh;it certiiiii pefsona thought that religion ought to be; bub they sire hardly ever wide enough to em- brace ail that liaa been called religion at different periods in the history of the world. That being so, the nest Btt'p hiis generally been to declare that whatever is outside the pale of any one of these defi- nitions does not deserve to be cailed religion ; but should be cjiUed superstition, or idolatry, or morality, or philosophy, or any other more or leas offensive name. Kant wonld call much of what other people call religion, lialhici nation ; Fichte would call Kant's own religion mere legality. Many people would qualify the brilliant services, whether earned on in Chinese temples or Romafl Catholic cathedrals, as mere supei-stition ; while the faith of the silent Aus- tralians, and the half-nttered convictions of Kant, would by others be classed together as not very far removed from atheism.

DEFINITIOIT OP SCHLEIEEMACHEE (DEPENDENCE), AXD OF HEGEL (FEEEDOJl). I shall mention one more definition of religion, which in modern times lias been rendered memorable and pf>pular by Schleiermacher. According to him religion consists in our consciousness of absolute de- pendence on something which, though it determines lis, wo cannot determine in turii.^ But here again another class of philosophers step in, declaring that feeling of dependence the very opposite of religion. There is a famous, though not very wise siiying of

1 This is, of course, a. very imperfect uccount of Schleistmacher's view of religion, ivhicli became mora nnd more perfect as he advanced in life. Soi- on this point tl.c escelknl Life of Sddfiermadier, by W. Dilthej-,


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THE PERCEPTION OV THE ISFIN'ITE. 19

Hegel, that if tbo consciousness of dependence con- stituted religion, the dog ■would possess most religion. On the contraiy, religion, according to Hygel, is or ought to be perfect freedom ; for it is neither more nor less than the Divine Spirit becoming conscious of himself through the finite spirit.

COMTE AND FEUBRBACH.

From this point it required but another step, and that step WHS soon taken by Feuerbach in Germany, and by Comte in France, to make man himself, not only the subject, but also the object of religion and religious worship. We are told that man cannot know anything higher than man ; that man therefore is the only true object of religious knowledge and worship, only not man as an individual, but man as a class. The generic concept of man, or the genius of humanity, is to be substantiated, and then humanity becomes at once both the priest and the Deity.

Nothing can be more eloquent, and in some pas- sages really more solemn and subiime, than the re- ligion of humanity, as preached by Comte and his disciples. Feuerbach, however, dissipates the last mystic halo which Comte had still left. " Self-love," he says, " is a necessary, indestructible, universal law and principle, inseparable from every kind of love. Religion must and does confirm this on every page of her histoiy. Wherever man tries to resist that human egoism, in the sense in which we explained it, whether in religion, philosophy, or politics, he sinks into pure nonsense and insanity ; for the sense which forms the foundation of all human instincts, desires, and actions is the satisfaction of the human being, the satisEaetion of human egoism."^

' Fcuerbaai, Wesender lielijiun, p. 100. ^

I .ledbyGOOglC


THE perci;:ptiox of the infj.mte.


DIFFICULTY OF DEFINING RELIGION. TJiiis we see that each definition of religion, as soon as it is started, seems at once to provoke another which meets it by a flat denial. There seem to be almost as many definitions of religion as there are religions in the world, and there is almost the same hostility between those who maintain these different definitions of religion as there is between the believers in different religions. What, then, is to be done ? Is it really impossible to give a definition of religion that should be applicable to all tliat has ever been called religion, or by some similar name ? I believe it is, and jou will yourselves have perceived the reason why it is so. Religion is something which has passed, and is still passing through an historical evolution, and all we can do is to follow it up to its origin, and then to try to comprehend it in its later historical developments.

SPECIFIC CHAEACTEKISTIC 01' RELIGION.

But though an adequate definition, or even an exli ail stive description, of all that has ever been called religion is impossible, what is possible is to give some specific characteristic which distinguishes the objects of religions consciousness from all other objects, and at the same time distinguishes our con- sciousness, as applied to religions objects, from our consciousness when dealing with other objects sup- plied to it by sense and reason.

Let it not be supposed, however, that there is a separate consciousness for religion. There is but one self and one consciousness, although that conscious- ness varies according to the objects to wliich it is ap-


C.ooi^lc


THE I'ERCEPTION- OF THE INFIKITE. 21

plied. We diatingaisli between sense and reason, though even these two are in the highest sense differ- ent functions only of tba same conscious self. In the same manner, when we speak of faith as a I'eligious faculty in man, all that we can mean is our ordinary consciousness, so developed and modified lis to enable us to take cognizance of religious objects. This is not meant as a new sense, by the side of the other senses, or as a new reason by the aide of our ordinary rea- son, — a new soul within the soul. It is simply the old conaeiousneas applied to new objects, and reacted upon by them. To admit faith as a separate relig- ious faculty, or a theistic instinct, in order to explain religion as a fact, such as we find it everywhere, would be iilte admitting a vital force in order to ex- plain life ; it would be a mere playing with words or trifling with truth. Such explanations may have answered formerly, but at present the battle has ad- vanced too far for any peace to he concluded on such terms.

RELIGION, AS A SUBJECTIVE FACULTY FOE THE APPREHENSION" OF THE INFINITE,

In a course of introductory lectures on the Science of Religion, delivered at the Royal Institution in 1873, I tried to define the subjective side of religion, or what is commonly called faith, in the following words : ^ —

" Religion is a mental faculty which, independent of, nay, in spite of sense and reason, enables man to apprehend the infinite under different names and under varying disguises. Without that faculty, no religion, not even the lowest worship of idols and

I Mroductwn to the Science of Religion, 1873, p. IT.


.y


a2 THE PEKCEPTION OP THE INFINITE.

fetishes, would be possible ; and if we will but listen attentively, we can hear iu all religions a groaning of the spirit, a struggle to conceive the inconceivable, to utter the unutterable, a longing after the Infinite, a love of God."

I do not quote these words because I altogether approve of tlieni now. I very seldom approve alto- gether of what I have written myself some years ago. I fully admit the force of many objections that have been raised against that definition of religion, bat I still think that the kernel of it is sound. I should not call it now an exhaustive definition of religion, but I believe it supplies such characteristics as will enable us to distinguish between rehgious conscious- ness on one side, and sensuous and rational conscious- ness on the other.

What has been chiefly objected to in my definition of religion was, that I spoke of it as u mental faculty. " Faculty " is a word that rouses the anger of certain philosophers, and to some extent I fully share their objections. It seems to be imagined that faculty must signify something substantial, a spring as it were, setting a machine in motion ; a seed or a pip that can be handled, and will spring up when planted in proper soil. How faculty could be used iu such a sense, I have never been able to comprehend, though I cannot deny that it has often been thus used. Fac- ulty signifies a mode of action, never a substantial something. Faculties are neither gods nor ghosts, neither powers nor principalities. Faculties are in- herent in substances, quite as much as forces or pow- ers are. We generally speak of the faculties of con- scious, of the forces of unconscious substances. Now wo know that there is no force without substance, and


C.ooi^lc


Ten PERCEPTIOH OF THE INFIMITE. 23

no Bubsfciince -without force. To speak of gravity, for instance, as a thing by itself, would be sheer my- thology. If the law of gravity had been discovered at Koine, there would have been a temple built to the goddeas of gravity. We no longer build temples, but the way in which some naturitl philosophers speak of gravity is hardly less mythological. The same danger exists, I fully admit, with regiird to the manner in which certain philosophers speak of our faculties, and ive know that one faculty at least, that of Reuson, has had an altar erected to her not very long ago. If, therefore, faculty is an ambiguous and dangerous, or if it is an unpopular word, let us by all means discard it. I am perfectly willing to say " potential energy " instead, and therefore to define the subjective side of religion as the potential energy which enables man to apprehend the infinite. If the English langnage allowed it, I should even propose to i-eplace " faculty " by the Not-yet, and to speak of the Not-yet of language and religion, instead of their faculties or potential energies.' Professor Plieiderer,

> Instead of alaj-ing the slain orer again, [ quote the followEn;- words ol I-ocke, On tht Understandiag, Book ii. c. 21. IT: "For if it be reason- able to suppose and talk of faculties as distinct bein^, that can act (as ve do, Trtien we say the will orders, and the will Is free), it is Ht that wa should make a Bjwaklng faculty, and a walking fucully, and b dancing facnlty, by which tfiose actions are produced, which are hut several modea of motion ; as well as we make the will and nnderstanding to be fecultiea by which the actions of choosing and perceiving are produced, which are but several modes ot thinking! and wo may as properly say that it is the singing faculty sings, and the dancing faculty dances, as that (he will chooses, or that the understanding conceives; or, as is nsnal, tliat the will directs the understanding, or the understanding obeys, or obej-s not, the will; it bein$; altogetiier as proper and intelligible to say tliat the power of speaking directs (he power ot sinpng, or the power ot singing obeys, or disobeys tlie power of speaking. This way ot talking, nevertlieless, baa prevailed, and, as I guess, produced great confusion."

"In einen Dialog scllle einmal recht persifiirt werdao, wie die von einiehiei! Seelenvermiigen reden, z. B. Kant: die reine Ve schmeicheit sich." — Sckldenaasher, von Dillhey, vol. i. p. 122.



24 THE PERCEP-J'ION OF THE IXFIXITE.

to whom wo owe some excellent contributions to the science of religion, finds fault with my definition because it admits, not only a faculfas, but a facul- tax occulta. All depends here again on the sense which we attach to facuUan occulta. I£ it means no more than that there is in men, both individually and generally (ontogenetically and phyiogenetieally) something tliat develops into perception, conception, iii.J faith, using the last word as meaning the appre- hension of the infinite, then I fully admit a faoultas occulta. Everything that develops may from one point of view be called occult. This, however, applies not only to the faculty of faith, but likewise to the faculties of sense and reason.

THE TIIEEE FUNCTIONS OF SENSE, EEASOX, AND TAITH. Secondly, it has been objected that there is some- thing mysterious in this view of religion. As to myself, I cannot see that in admitting, besides the sensuous and rational, a third function of the con- scious self, for apprehending the infinite, we introduce a mysterious element into psychologj'. One of the essential elements of ail religious knowledge is the admission of beings which can neither be apprehended by sense nor comprehended by reason. Sense and reason, therefore, in the ordinary acceptation of these terms, would not be sufficient to account for the facts before us. If, then, we openly admit a third function of our consciousness for the apprehension of what is infinite, that function need not be more mysterious than those of sense and reason. Nothing is in reality more mysterious than sensuous perception. It is the real nivsterv of all mvsteries. Yet we have accus-


,C(h>qIc


THE PKRCEPTION OF THE IKFINITE. 25

tomed ourselves to regard it aa the most natural of all things. Nest comes reason, which, to a being re- stricted to sensuous perception, might certainly ap- pear very mysterious again, and which even by certain philosophers has been represented as altogether in- comprehensible. Yet we know that reason is only a development of sensuous perception, possible under certain conditions. These conditions con'espond to what we call the potential enei^ or faculty of rea- son. They belong to one and the same conscious self, and though reason is active in a different man- ner, yet, if kept under proper control, reason works in perfect harmony with sense. The same applies to religion in its subjective sense of faith. It is, as I shall try to show, simply another development of sen- suous perception, quite as much aa reason is. It is possible undei' certain conditions, and these condi- tions correspond to what we call the potential energy of faith. Without this third potential energy, the facts which are before us in religion, both subjectively and objectively, seem to me inexplicable. If they can be explained by a mere appeal to sense and rea- son, in the ordinary meaning of these words, let it be done. We shall then have a rational religion, or an intuitional faith. None of my critics, however, has done that yet ; few, I believe, would like to do it.

When I say that our apprehension of the infinite takes place independent of, nay, in spite of sense and reason, I use these two words in their ordinary ac- ceptation. If it is true that sense supplies us with finite objects only, and if reason has nothing to work on except those finite objects, then our assumed ap- prehension of anything infinite must surely be inde- pendent of, nay, in spite of sense or reason. Whether


ItyGCK^^IC


20 THE PERCEPTION OF THE IXFINITK.

the premises are right is another question, which wo shall have to discuss presently.

THE MEANING OF ISriNITE.

Let us now see whether we can agree on some general characteristic of nil that forms the object of our religious consciousness. I ehoae " infinite " for that pui'pose, as it seemed hest to comprehend all that transcends our senses and our reason, taking these terms in their ordinary meaning. All sensuous knowledge, whatever else it may be, is universally admitted to be finite, finite in space and time, finite also in quantity and quality, and as our conceptual knowledge is based entirely on our sensuous knowl- edge, that also can deal with finite objects only. Finite being then the most general predicate of all our so-called positive knowledge, I thought infinite the least objectionable term for all that transcends our senses and oiir I'eason, always taking these words in their ordinary meaning. I thought it preferable to indefinite, invisible, super sensuous, supernatural, absolute, or divine, as the characteristic qualification of the objects of that lai^e class of knowledge which constitutes what we call rehgion. All these terms are meant for the same thing. They all express different aspects of the same object. I have no predilection for infinite, except that it seems to me tho widest term, the highest generalization. But if any other term seems preferable, again I say, let us adopt it by all means.

Only let ua now clearly understand what we mean by infinite, or any other of these terms that may seem preferable.

If the infinite were, as certain philosophers sup-


.y


THE PERCEPTION OF THE INFINITE. 27

pose, simply a negative abstraction (^ein negativer Ah- straetiona-begriff^, then, no doubt, reason would suf- fice to explain how we came to be possessed of it. But abstraction will never give us more than tliat from wliich we abstract. From a given number of perceptions we can abstract the concept o£ a given multitude. Infinite, however, is not contained in finite, therefore we may do what we like, we shall never be able to abstract the infinite from the finite. To say, as many do, that the infinite is a negative abstract concept, is a mere playing with words. We may form a negative abstract concept, when we have to deal with serial or correlative concepts, but not otbei-wise. Let us take a serial concept, such as blue, then not-biue means green, yellow, I'cd, any color, in fact, except blue. Not-blue means simply the whole concept of color, minus blue. We might of course comprehend sweet, or heavy, or crooked by the negative concept of not-blue, — but our logic does not admit of such proceedings.

If we take correlative concepts, such as crooked and straight, then not-straight may by logicians be called a negative concept, but it is in reality quite aa positive as crooked, not-straight being crooked, not^ crooked being straight.

Now let us apply this to finite. Finite, we are told, comprehends everything that can be perceived by the senses, or counted by rtison Therefire if we do not only form a word it \ indo n by ^dd ng the ordinary negative particle to finite tut try to form a really negative concept then that coi Cfpt of infinite would be outside the concept of finite and as, according to a premiss geneiillj granted there is nothing known to us outside the coni.ej t of the finite,


.y


28 IHE PERCEPTIOS OF THE ISFISITE.

the concept of the infinite would simply comprise nothing. Infiuite, therefore, cannot be treated simply as a negative concept ; if it were no more than that, it would be a word fonned by false analogy, and signify nothing.

CAN THE FINITE APPEEHEND THE INFINITE ?

Ail the objections which we have hitherto exam- ined proceed from friendly writers. They are amendments of niy own definition of religion; they do not amount to a moving of the previons ques- tion. But it is well known that that previous ques- tion also bus been moved. There is a large class, not only of philosophers by profession, but of inde- pendent thinbei-s in all classes of society, who look upon any attempt at defining religion as perfectly useless ; wlio would not listen even to a discussion whether one religion was false or another true, but wlio simply deny the possibility of any I'eHgion what- soever, on the ground that men cannot apprehend what is infinite, while all religions, however they may differ on other points, agree in this, that their objects transcend, either partially or entirely, the apprehen- sive and comprehensive powere of our senses and our reason. This is the ground on which what is now called positive philosophy takes its stand, denying the possibility of religion, and challenging all who admit any souree of knowledge except sense and rea- son to produce their credentials.

This is not a new challenge, nor is the ground on which the battle has to be fought new ground. It is the old battle-field measured out long ago by Kant, only that the one opening which was still left in his time, viz, the absolute certainty of moral truth, and


CtH^glc


THE PERCEPTIOX OF THE ISFISITE. 29

through it the certainty of the existence of a God, is now closed up. There ia no escape in that direction.^ The battle between those who believe in something which transcends our senses and our reason, who claim for man the possession of a faculty or potential energy for apprehending the infinite, and those who deny it on purely psychological grounds, must end in the victory of one, and the surrender of the other party.

CONDITIONS ACCEPTED ON BOTH SIDES. Before we commit ourselves to this struggle for life or death, let us inspect once more the battle-field, as it is measured out for us, and survey what ia the common ground on which both parties have agreed to stand or to fall. What is granted to us is that all consciousness begins with sensuous perception, with what we feel, and hear, and see. This gives us sen- suous knowledge. What is likewise granted is that out of this we construct what may be called concept- ual knowledge, consisting of collective and abstract

ed ont IhB unoertMnty of tha fonndafion on

wh E (instruct r^Iigiott, in tbe widest sense of the

w as W c. ii. p. 190 ; " Non consentaneus aibi est

K od m at«goriii3 k priori iatelligibiles tt antiquiorss

9 nnlluni progrcxium ul noia tiitdligtbilia

CO T m od triaplncita, 'del immortaiilatia, libectatis,'

ID an ex Iheoretica ratione ad procticam relegat,

m abefactat, e'c lucido firmoque mlelligentiai

sam interni aensua latebram rejicien?, sed

o^ ps m mum philosophiK ofHcium Degligit

b re S ta ac ico ducuatur contra nalurnm pliilosopbix,

dacere Ilia tiia theoreticn dogmata

m rta Bant, quam ille senaua moraiis dubius et

rsus itu imperatorio, inaudito nomine imperatlvl

g m us et productus. Nonne hoe est Deura ejc

nn S PrantI, Sitwng^erichle dtr pMlns. philolog.

tmi! higfoi-lschen Claiie dfr K. B. Akadimie der Wissemohaftm. ISTT,



6\) THE PERCEPTION OF THE INFINITE.

concepts, AVhat we call thinking consists simply in addition and subtraction of percepts and concepts. Conceptual knowledge differs from sensuous knowl- edge, not in substance, but in form only. As far aa the material is concerned, nothing exists in the intel- lect except what existed before in the senses. The organ of knowledge is throughout the same, only that it is more highly developed in animals that have five senses than in animals that have but one sense, and again more highly developed in man who counts and forms concepts than iu all other animals who do not.

On this ground and with these weapons we are to fight. With them, we are told, all knowledge has been gained, the whole world has been conquered. If with them we can force our way to a world be- yond, well and good ; if not, we are asked to confess that all that goes by the name of religion, from the lowest fetishism to the most spiritual and exalted faitlj, is a delusion, and that to have recognized this dehision is tb« greatest triumph of our age.

I accept these terms, and I maintain tliat religion, so far from being impossible, is inevitable, if only we are left in possession of our senses, such as we really find them, not such as they have been defined for us. Thus the issue is plain. We claim no special faculty, no special revelation. The only faculty we claim is perception, the only revelation we claim is history, or, as it is now called, historical evolution.

For let it not be supposed that we find the idea of the infinite ready-made in the human mind from the very beginning of our history. There are even now millions of human beings to whom the very word would be unintelliL'ible. All we muintiiiii is that the


,C(h>qIc


THE PERCEPTION OF THE KFINITE. 31

germ or the possibility, the Not-yet of that idea, lies hidden in tlie earhest sensuous perceptions, and that as reason is evolved from what is finite, so faith is evolved from what, from the very beginning, is infi- nite in the perceptions of our senses.

Positive philosopiiy imagines that all that is sup- plied to us through the senses is by its very nature tinite, that whatever transcends the finite is a mere delusion, that the very word infinite is a mere jingle, produced by an outward joining of the negative par- ticle with tlie adjective finite, a particle which lias a perfect right with serial or correlative concepts, but which is utterly out of place with an absolute or exclusive concept, such as finite. If the senses tell us that all is finite, and If reason draws all her cap- ital from the senses, who has a right, they say, to speak of the infinite ? It may be true that an essen- tial element of all religions knowledge is the admis- sion of beings which can neither be apprehended by sense nor comprehended by reason, which are in fact infinite, and not finite. But instead of admit- ting a third faculty or potential energy in order to account for these facts of religion, positive philoso- phers would invert the argument, and prove that, for that very reason, religion has no real roots in our consciousness, that it is a mere mirage in the desert, alluring the weary traveler with biight visions, and leaving him to despair, when he has come near enough to where the springs of living water seemed to flow.

Some philosophers have thought that a mere ap- peal to history would be a sufiicient answer to this despairing view. No doubt, it is important that, so long as we know man in possession of sense and rea-


Gooi^lc


32 THE PERCEl'TIOS OF THE INFINITE.

son, we also find him in possession of religion. But not even the eloquence of Cicero has been able to raise this fact to the dignity of an iiivnlnerable ai-gu- ment. That all men have a longing for the gods is an important truth, but not even the genius of Homer could place that ti'uth beyond the reach of doubt. Who has not wondered at those simple words of

Homer (Od. iii. 48), irai-rts Si $twi/ ;(iir£Oun-' ar^pcuJTot,

"All men crave for the gods;" or, aa we might ren- der it still more literally and truthfully, " As young birds ope their mouth for food, all men crave for the gods." For i^aTetv, as connected with jfaiVfn', meant originally to gape to open the mouth, then to crave, to desire. B it e\e thit simple statement is met with an equallj s njle lenial. Some nieu, we are told, in very a ic ei 1 1 es ind some in very modem times, know of i o s eh crivings. It is not enough, therefore, to alio v tl at mi has always transcended the limits wl h se se i I reason seem to trace for him. It is not e lo gh to si ow that, even in the low- est fetish wo sh p tl e fet si is not only what we can see, or hear, or touch, but something else, which we cannot see, or hear, or touch. It is not enough to show that in the worship paid to the objects of nature, the mountains, trees, and rivers are not simply what we can see, but something else which we cannot see ; and that when the sky and the heavenly bodies are invoked, it is not the sun or the moon and the stars, such as they appeal' to the bodily eye, but again some- thing else which cannot be seen, that forms the ob- ject of religions belief. The rain is visible; he who sends the rain is not. The thunder is heard, the storm is felt ; but he who thunders and rides on the whirlwind is never seen by human eye. Even if the


,CtH>Qlc


THE PERCEPTION Oi' THE INFINITE. 33

gods of the Greeks are sometimes seen, the Father of gods and men is not ; and he wlio in tlie oldest Arj^an speech was called Heaven-Father (Dyaus Pitar), in Greek Zeu? iror^p, in Latin Jupiter, was no nior« an object of sensuous perception than He whom we call our Father in heaven.

All this is true, and it will be the object of thes^e lectures to watch this important development of re- ligious thought from its very beginning to its very end, though in one stream only, namely, in the an- cient religion of India. But before we can do thia, ■we have to answer the pi'eliminary and more abstract question, Whence comes that something else, which, as we are told, neither sense nor reason can supply ? Where is the rock for him to stand on, who declines to rest on anything but what is called the evidence of the senses, or to trust in anything but the legiti- mate dednctions derived from it by reason, and who nevertheless maintains his belief in sometliing which transcends both sense and reason ?

Al'PEEHEXStOS or THE INFINITE. We have granted that all our knowledge begins with the senses, and that out of the material, sup- plied by the senses, reason builds up its marvelous structure. If, therefore, all the materials which the senses supply are finite, whence, we ask, comes the concept of the infinite ?

1. The Tnfnitely Gnai.

The first point that has to be settled — and on

that point all the rest of our argument turns — is

this : " Are all the materials which the senses supply

finite, and finite only ? " It is true that all we can


.y


34 THE rERCEPTIOS OF THE ISPINITE.

see, and feel, and hear, lias a beginning und an end, and is it only by apprehending these beginnings and ends that we gain seusnous knowledge ? We per- ceive a body by perceiving its outline ; we perceive green in large intervals between blue and y«llow ; we hear the mnsical note D between where C ends and E begins; nnd so with all other perceptions of the senses. This is true — trne at least for all practical purposes. But let us look move carefully. When our eye has apprehended the farthest distance which it can reach, with or without instruments, the limit to which it clings is always fixed on the one side by the finite, but on the other side by what to the eye is not finite, or infinite. Let us remember that we have ac- cepted the terms of our opponents, and that therefore we look upon man as simply endowed with sense. To most philosophers it would appear much moi'e natural, and, I doubt not, much more convincing, to derive the idea of the infinite from a necessity of our human reason. Wherever we try to fix a point, in space or time, they say, we are utterly unable to fix it so as to exclude the possibility of a point beyond. In fact, our very idea of limit implies the idea of a beyond, and thns forces the idea of the infinite upon us, whether we like it or not.

This is perfectly true, but we must think, not of our friends, but of our opponents, and it is well known that our opponents do not accept that argument. If on one side, they say, our idea of a limit implies a beyond and leatls ua to postulate an infinite, on the other, our idea of a whole excludes a beyond, and thus leads us to postulate a finite. These antinomies of human reason liave been fully discussed by Kant, and kfcev piiilosophei's have naturally appealed to them


CooqIc


THE PERCEPTIOM OF THE INFINITE. 35

to show that what we call necessities may be after all but weaknesses of human reason, and that, like all other ideas, those of finite and infinite also, if they are to be admitted at all, must be shown to be the result, not of speculation, but of experience, and as all ex- perience is at first sensuous, the result of sensuous ex- perience. This is the argument we have to deal with, and here neither Sir W, Hamilton nor Lucretius can help us.

We have accepted the primitive savage with noth- ing hut his five senses. These five senses supply him with a knowledge of finite things ; our problem ia, how such a being ever comes to think or speak of anything not finite ot infinite,

I answer, without any fear of contradiction, that it is his senses which give him the first impression of infinite things, and supply him in the end with an intimation of the infinite. Everything of which his senses cannot perceive a limit is, to a primitive savage, or to any man in an early stage of intel- lectual activity, unlimited or infinite. Man sees, he sees to a certain point ; and there his eyesight breaks down. But exactly where hia sight breaks down, there presses upon him, whether he likes it or not, the perception of the unlimited or the infinite. It raay be said that this is not perception, in the or- dinary sense of the word. No more it is, but still less is it mere reasoning. In perceiving the infinite, we neither count, nor measure, nor compare, nor name. We know not what it is, but we know that it is, and we know it, because we actually feel it and are brought in contact with it. If it seems too bold to say that man actually sees the invisible, let us say that he suffers from the invisible, and this invisible is only a special name for the infinite. ,-. .

I .ledbyCjOOglC


36 THE PEKCEPTION OK THE ISKIKITE.

Therefore, as far as mere distance or extension is concerned, it wonld seem difficult to deny that tlie eye, by the very same act by which it apprehends the finite, apprehends also the infinite. The more we advance, the wider no doubt grows our horizon ; but there never is or can be to our senses a horizon, un- less as standing between the visible and finite on one side and the invisible and infinite on the other. The infinite, therefore, instead of being merely a late ab- straction, is really implied in the earliest manifestar tions of our sensuous knowledge. Theology begins with anthropology. We must begin with a man living on high mountains, or in a vast plain, or on a coral island without hills and streams, surrounded on all sides by the endless expanse of the ocean, and screened above by the unfathomable blue of the sky ; and we shall then understand how, from the images thrown upon him by the senses, some idea of the in- finite would ai-ise in his mind, earlier even tlian the concept of the finite, and would form the omnipresent background of the faintly tlottecJ picture of his mo- notonous life,

2. The Infiiiiidy Small. But that is not all. "VVe apprehend the infinite, not only as beyond, but also as within the finite ; not only as beyond all measure great, bnt also as beyond all measure small. However much our senses may contract the points of their tentacles, they ean never touch the smallest objects. Tliere is always a beyond, always a something smaller still. We may, if we like, postulate an atom in its original sense, iis something that cannot be cut asunder ; our senses, — and we speak of them only, for wo have been re-


Gooi^lc


THE PERCEPTION OF THE INFIMITE. 37

stricted to them by our opponents, — admit of no reiil atoms, nor of imponderable substances, or, as Kobert Mayer called tliese last gods of Greece, " im- material matter." In apprehending tlie smallest extension, they apprehend a smaller extension still. Between the centre and the circumference, which every object must have in order to become visible, there is always a radius ; and that omnipresent and never entirely vanishing radius gives us again the sensuous impression of the infinite — of the infinitely small, as opposed to the infinitely great.

And what applies to space, applies equally to time, applies equally to quality and quantity.

When we speak of colors or sounds, we seem for all practical purposes to move entirely within the finite. This is red, we say, this is green, this is violet. This is C, this is D, this is E, What can apparently be more finite, more deGnite ? But let us look more closely. Let us take the seven colors of the rainbow ; and where is tlie edge of an eye sharp enough to fix itself on the point where bine ends and green begins, or where green ends and yellow begins? We might as well attempt to put our clumsy fingers on the point where one millimetre ends and another begins. We divide color by seven rough degrees, and speak of the seven colors of the rainbow. Even those seven rough degrees are of late date in the evolution of our sensaous knowledge. Xenopbanes says that what people call Iris is a cloud, purple (j<ip4tupfov), red (j>oi.vi,Ktov'), and yellow <^x\a>p6v'). Even Aristotle still speaks of the tricolored rainbow, red (^rjinn^), yel- low (lar-fijj), and green (7rpuiTiv^),and in the Edda the rainbow is called a three-colored bridge. Blue, which seems to us ao definite a color, was worked out of the infinity of colors at a comparatively iate time._^

floated by


38 THE rERCEFHOJI OF THE INFIKITE.

There is hardly a book now in which we do not read o£ the blue sky. But in the ancient hymua of tlie Veda,^ so full of the dawn, the sun, and the sky, the blue sky is never mentioned ; in the Zendavesta the blue sky is never mentioned ; in Homer the blue sky is never mentioned ; in the Old, and even in the New Testament, the bhie sky is never mentioned. It has been asked whether we should recognize in this a physiolc^cal development of our senses, or a gradual increase of words capable of expressing finer distinc- tions of light. No oue is Ukely to contend that the . irritations of our organs of sense, which produce sen- sation, as distinguished from perception, were different thousands of years ago from what they are now. They are the same for all men, the same even for cei*tain uni- mals, for we know that there are insects which react very strongly i^ainst differences of color. No, we only leavn here again, in a very clear manner, that conscious perception is impossible without language. Who would contend that savi^es, unable, as we are told, to count beyond three — that is to say, not in possession of definite numerals beyond three — do not receive the sensuous impression of four legs of a cow as different from three or two? No, in this evolution of consciousness of color we see once more how perception, as different from sensation, goes hand in hand with the evolution of language, and how slowly every definite concept is gained out of an in- finitude of indistinct perceptions. Demokritos knew of four colors, viz, black and white, which he treated as colors, red and yellow. Are we to say that he 1 See a my remarkable paper, ' t'ber den Farbension der Urzeit unit seine Entwickelang,' by L. Geiger in his VortrSi/e lar I:!Uwickdsn^|l^■ geickichle der Menschheit, 1871, p- i5. Tlia same subject is treated usthIji in liis Ur^nvKg and EntatKlielaBg der mei»chSck«R Sjirache iind T'er. nun/1, Zweiter Band, p. 304 1^.

iioarfh


THE PERCEPTIOX OF THE ISFIStTE. S9

did not see the blue of the sky because he never called it blue, but either dark or bright ? In China the number of colors was originally five. That num- ber was increased with the increase of their power of distinguishing and of expressing their distinctions in words. In common Arabic, as Palgrave tells us, the names for green, black, and brown are constantly confounded to the pi-esent day. Ifc is well known that among savage nations we seldom find distinct words for blue and black,^ but we shall find the same in- definitenesa of expression when we inquire into the antecedents of our own language. Though blue now does no longer mean black, we see in such expres- sions as " to beat black and blue " the closeness of the two colore. In Old Norse, too, blar, bla, bldtt now means blue, as distinct from llakkr, black. But in O. N. bldman, the livid color of a bruise, we see the indefiniteness of meaning between black and blue, and in bld-tnadr, a black man, a negro, bid means distinctly black. The etymology of these words is very obscure. Grimm derives blue, O. H. G. pldo, plawes, Med. Lat. blavua and blavius. It, biavo, Fr. bleu, from Goth, bliggvan, to strike, so that it would originally have conveyed the black and bine color of a bruise. He appeals in support of his derivation to Latin Uvidus, which he derives from *fligviduB and jiigere ; nay even to flavus, which he proposes to de- rive from *Jlagvus and *fiagere. Caesms also is quoted as an analogy, supposing it U derived from caedere. All this is extremely doubtful, and the whole subject of the names of color requires to be treated in the most comprehensive way before any certain results can be expected in the place of in-


Gooi^lc


iO THE PERCEPTION OF THE INFINITE.

genioas guesses. Most likely the root bkrag and hhrag, with r changed to 1, will be found aa a fertile source of names of color. To that ivjot hleak, A. S. bl4e, blcec, O. N. bUikr, O. H. G, ^letk, liita been referred, meaning originally bright, then pale ; and to the same family black also will probably have to be traced baflk, A. S. llac, O. N. blakkr, 0. H. (i. plack.

As languages advance, more and more distinctions are introduced, but the variety of colors always stands before us as a real infinite, to be measured, it may be, by millions of ethereal vibrations in one second, but immeasurable and indivisible even to the keen- est eye.

What applies to color applies to sounds. Our ear begins to apprehend tone when there are thirty vi- brations in one second ; it ceases to apprehend tone when there are four thousand vibrations in one sec- ond. It is the weakness of our ears which deter- mines these limits ; but as there is beyond the violet, which we can perceive, an ultrarviolet which to our eye is utter darkness, while it is revealed in hundreds of lines through the spectroscope, so there may be to people with more perfect powers of hearing, music where to us there is but noise. Though we can dis- tinguish tones and semitones, there are many smaller divisions which baffle our perception, and make us feel, as many other things, the limited power of our senses before the unlimited wealth of the universe, which we try slowly to divide, to fix, and to compre- hend.

GROWTH OF THE IDEA OP THE INFINITE.

I hope I shall not be misunderstood, or, I ought rather to say, I fear I shall be, — as if I held the

I .^rlLyCOQl^lC


THK rERCEPTION OF THE INFINITE. 41

opinion that the religion of the lowest siwages begins with the barren idea of the infiiiite, and with nothing else. As no concept is possible without a name, I shall probably be asked to produce from the diction- aiies of Veddas and Papuas any word to express the infinite ; and the absence of such a word, even among more highly civilized rnces, will be considered a suffi- cient answer to my theory.

Let me, therefore, say once more that I entirely reject such an opinion. I am acting at present on the defensive only ; I am simply dealing with the preliminary objections of those philosophers who look upon religion as outside the pale of philosophy, and who maintain that they have proved once for all that tlie infinite can never become a legitimate object of our consciousness, because our senses, which form tlie only avenue to the whole domain of our human eon- sciouaness, never come in contact with the infinite. It is in answer to that powerful school of philosophy, which on that one point has made converts even amongst the most orthodoK defenders of the faith, that I felt it was necessary to point out, at the very outset, that their facts are no facts, but that the infi- nite was present from the very beginning in all finite perceptions, just as the blue color was though we find no name for it in the dictionaries of Veddas and Papuas. The sky was blue in the days of the Vedic poets, of the Zoroastrian worshipers, of the Hebrew prophet, of the Homeric singers, but though they saw it, they knew it not : they had no name for that which is the sky's own peciiliar tint, the sky-blue. We know it, for we have a name for it. We know it, at least to a certain extent, because we can count the millions of vibrations that make up what we now


.y


42 THE PERCEFTIOS OF THE IKFISITE.

call tlie blue of the sky. We know it quantitatively, but not qiialitatively. Nay, to most of ns it is, and it always will be, notliing but visible darkness, half veiling and half revealing the infinite brightness be- yond.

It is the same with the infinite. It was there from the veiy first, but it was not yet defined or named. If the infinite had not from the very first been present in onr sensuous perceptions, such a word as infinite would be a sound, and nothing else. For that reason I felt it incumbent upon me to show how the presentiment of the infinite rests on the sentimeut of the finite, and has its real roots in the real though not yet fully apprehended presence of the infinite in all onr sensuous perceptions of the finite. This pre- sentiment or incipient apprehension of the infinite passes through endless phases and assumes endless names. I might have traced it in the wonderment with which the Polynesian sailor dwells on the end- less expanse of the sea, in the jubilant outburst with which the Aryan shepherd greets the effulgence of the dawn, or in the breathless silence of the solitary traveler in the desert when the last ray of the sua departs, fascinating his weary eyes, and drawing hia dreamy thoughts to another world. Through all these sentiments and presentiments there vibrates the same chord in a thousand tensions, and if we will but listen attentively we can still perceive its old familiar ring even in such high harmonics as Wordsworth's

"Ob?tinata questionings Of sense and outward thinga,


CiioqIc


THE PERCEPTION OF THE ESFINITE.


HO FINITE ■WITHOUT AN INFINITE.

Wh^t I hold is that with every finite perception there is a concomitant perception, or, if that word should seem too strong, a concomitant sentiment or presentiment of the infinite ; that from the very first act of touch, or hearing, or sight, we are brought in contact, not only witli a visible, but also at the same time with an invisible universe. Those therefore who deny the possibiHty or the legitimacy of the idea of the infinite in onr human consciousness, must meet us here on their own ground. All our knowledge, they say, must begin with the senses. Yes, we say, and it is the senses which give us the first intimation of the infinite. What grows afterwards out of this intimation supplies materials both to the psycholo- gist and to the historian of religion, and to both of them this indisputable sentiment of the infinite is the first pre-historic impulse to all religion. I do not say that in the first dark pressure of the infinite upon us, we have all at once the full and lucid consciousness of that highest of all concepts ; I mean the very op- posite. I simply say we have in it a germ, and a liv- ing germ, we have in it that without which no religion would have been possible, we have in that perception of the infinite the root of the whole historical develop- ment of human faith.

And let it not be supposed that in insisting on an actual perception of the infinite, I indulge in poetical language ouly, though I am the last to deny that poetical language may sometimes convey much truth, nay often more than is to be found in the confused webs of argumentative prose, I shall quote at least one of these poetical pleadings in favor of the reality


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44 THE rEECErrios of the ixiaxiTE.

of the infinite: "Efc qu'on ne dise pas que rinfini et r^ternel sont inintelligibles ; c'est le fini et le passager qu'on serait souvent teiitiS de prendre ponr un r6ve ; car la pens<5e ne pent voir de terine a rieii, et I'etre ne saiiniit ooiicevoir le n^ant. On ne peut approfondir les sciences exa«tes elles-mcmes, sans y rencontrer I'infini et Tfiternel ; et lea choses les plus positives appartienneut autant, sous de certains rap- ports, a cet infini et a eet (;ternel, que le sentiment et r imagination."

I fully admit that there is much truth in these ira- passionate utterances, but we must look for the deep- est foundation of that truth, otherwise we shall be accused of using poetical or mystic assertions, where only the most careful logical argument can do real good. lu postulating, or Kither in laying my finger on the point where the actual contact with the in- finite takes place, I neither ignore nor do I contra- vene any one of the stringent rules of Kant's " Critik der reinen Vernunft." N^othing, I hold, can be more perfect than Kant's analysis of human knowledge. " Sensuous objects cannot be known except such as they appear to us, never such as they are in them- selves ; supersensuous objects are not to us objects of theoretic knowledge." All this I fully accept. But though there is no theoretic knowledge of the supersensuous, is there no knowledge of it at all ? Is it no knowledge, if we know that a thing is, though we do not know what it is? What would Kant say, if we were to maintain that because we do not know what the Ding an stch is, therefore we do not know that it is. He carefully guards against such a misunderstanding, which would change his whole philosophy into pore idealism, " Neverthe-


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THE PEBCEI'TION OF THE IKFmiTE, 45

Ies3," he says, " it should be obsoryed that we must be able, if not to know, at all events to be conseioua of, the same objects, also a Dinge an stch. Other- wise vre should ari'ive at the iiTatioiial conolusion that there is appearance without something that appears." ^ If I differ from Kant, it is only in going a step beyond him. With him the snpersensnous Of the infinite would be a mere JVooumenon, not a Phainomenon. I maintain that before it becomes a Nooumenon it is an Aistheton, though not a Phaino- menon. I maintain that we, as sentient beings, are in constant contact with the infinite, and that this constant contact is the only legitimate basis on which the infinite can and does exist for us afterwards, as a Nooumenon or Phteuomenon. I maintain that, here as elsewhere, no legitimate concept is possible without a previous percept, and that that previous percept is as clear as daylight to all who are not blinded by traditional terminologies.

We have been told again and again that a finite mind cannot approach the infinite, and that there- fore we ought to take our Bible and our Prayer-book and rest there and be thankful. This would indeed be taking a despairing view both of ourselves and of our Bible and Prayer-book. No, let us only see and judge for ourselves, and we shall find that, from the first dawn of histoiy, and from the first dawn of our own individual consciousness, we have always been face to face with the infinite. Whether we shall ever be able to gain more than this sentiment of the real presence of the infinite, whether we shall ever be


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46 THE PEifCEPTlON OF THE IXFIXITE.

able, not only to apprehend, but to comprehend it, that is a question ■which belongs to the end, not to the beginning of our subject. At present we are concerned with history only, in order to learn from its sacred annals how the finite mind has tried to pierce farther and farther into the infinite, to gain new aspects of it, and to raise the dark perception of it into more lucid intuitions and more definite names. There may be mucli error in all the names that man has given to the infinite, but even the history of error is full of useful lessons. After we have seen how it is possible for man to giiin a presentiment of something beyond the finite, we shall watch him looking for the infinite in mountains, trees, and rivers, in the storm and lightning, in the moon and the sun, in the sky and what is beyond the sky, tiy- ing name after name to comprehend it, calling it thniiderer, bringer of light, wielder of the thunder- bolt, giver of rain, bestower of food and life ; and, after a time, speaking of it as maker, ruler, and pre- server, king and father, lord of lords, god of gods, cause of causes, the Eternal, the Unknown, the Un- knowable. All this we shall see in at least one great evolution of religious thought, preser\-ed to us in the ancient literature of India.

There are many other historical evolutions, in other countries, each leading to its own goal. Nothing can be more different than the evolution of the conscious- ness of the infinite or the divine among Arj-an, Se- mitic, and Turanian I'aces. To some the infinite first revealed itself, as to the Vedic poets, in certain vis- ions of nature. Others were startled by its presence in the abyss of their own hearts. There wei'e whole tribes to whom the earliest intimation of the infinite


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THE PERCEPTION OF THE INFINITE, 47

came from the birth of a child, or from the death of a friend ; and wliose idea of beings more than hnman was derived from the memory of those whom tliey had loved or feared in hfe. The sense of duty, which in ancient times had always a religious character, seems in some cases to have sprung from that feeling of burning shame which was none the less real be- cause it could not be accounted for; while other tribes became conscious of law by witnessing the or- der in nature, which even the gods could not trans- gress. And love, without which no tnie religion can live, while in some hearts it burst forth as a sudden warmth kindled by the glances of the morning light, was roused in others by that deep sympathy o£ nature — that suffering in common — which, whether we like it or not, makes our nerves quiver at the sight of a sulfeiing child ; or was called into life by that sense of loneliness and finiteness which makes us long for something beyond our own narrow, finite self, whether we find it in other human selves, or in that infinite Self in which alone we have our being, and in which alone we find in the end our own true self.

Each rehgion had its own growth, each nation fol- lowed its own path through the wilderness. If these lectures continue, as I hope they may, other and bet- ter analysts of the human mind will hereafter dis- entangle and lay before you the manifold fibres that enter into the web of the earliest religious thoughts of man ; other and more experienced guides will hereafter lead yon through the valleys and deserts which were crossed by the great nations of antiquity, the Egyptians, the Babylonians, the Jews, the Chi- nese, it may he, or the Greeks and Romans, the Celts, the Slavs, and Germans, nay by savage and hardly


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48 THE PERCRPTIOX OF THE ISFIXITE.

human races, in tlieir search after the infinite, that infinite which surromided them, as it surcounds us, on every side, and which they tried, and tried in vain, to grasp and compreliend,

I shult confine myself to one race only, the ancient Aryans of India, in many respects the most wonder- ful race that ever lived on earth. The growth of tlieir religion is very different from the growth of other religions ; but though each religion lias its own pecuhar growth, the seed from which they spring is everywhere the same. That seed is the perception of the infinite, from which no one can escape who does not wiilfnlly shut his eyes. From the first flutter of human conscionsness, that perception underlies all the other perceptions of our senses, all our imagin- ings, all our concepts, and everj' argument of our reason. It may be buned for a time beneath the fragments of our finite knowledge, but it is always there, and if we dig bat deep enough, we shall always find that buried seed, as supplying the living sap to the fibres and feeders of all true faith.

For many reasons I could have wished that some English student, who in so many respects would have been far bettei' qualified than I am, should have been chosen to inaugurate these lectures. There was no dearth of them, there was rather, I should say, an emharras de richesse. How ably would a psycho- logical analysis of religion have been treated by the experienced hands of Dr. Marti ueau or Principal Caird 1 If for the firet course of these Hibbert Lect- ures you had chosen Egypt and its ancient religion, you had such men as Birch, or Le Page Renouf ; for Babylon and Nineveh, you had Rawlinsonor Sayce; for Palestine, Stanley or Cheyne ; for China, Le^e


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THE PERCEPTION OF THE ISFISITE. 49

or Douglas ; for Greece, Gladstone or Jowetfc or Ma- liaffy ; for Rome, Muiiro or Seely ; foi- the Celtic ra,ces, Rh Js ; for the Slavonic races, Ralston ; for the Teutonic races, Skeat or Sweet; for savage tribes in general, Tylor or Lubbock, If after considerable hesitation I decided to accept the invitation to deliver the first course of these lectures, it was because I felt convinced that tlie ancient literature of India, which haa been preserved to us as by a miracle, gives us opportunities for a study of the oi-igin and growth of religion such as we find nowhere else;' and I may add, because I know from past experience how great indulgence is shown by an English audience to one who, however badly he may say it, says all he haa to say, without fear, without favor, and, as much as may be, without offense.

^ "Die Inder bildeten ihre Religion zaeiner Art ran umelclicher Clas- BlcitBt aua, welche sle fut alle Zeilen zura Sobliissel dea GiJKerglaubens der ganzen Mensciiheit maclit." Geiger, itber Urspi-unff und Eatwich- elung der Bienc/isJicScB Sprache mid Versunjl, vol. ii. p, Sai).


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IS FETISHISM A PRIMITIVE FORM OF RELIGION ?


THE FIRST IMPULSE TO THE PERCEPTION OP THE INFINITE.

In my first lecture I tried to lay free the founda- tions on which alone a religion can be built up. If man had not the power — I do not say, to compre- hend, but to apprehend the infinite, in its most prim- itive and undeveloped form, then he would have no right to speak of a world beyond this finite world, of time beyond this finite time, or of a Being which, even though he shrinks from calling it Zeus, or Ju- piter, or Dyaus-pitar, or Lord, Lord, he may still feel after, and revere, and even love, under the names of the Unknown, the Incomprehensible, the Infinite. If, on the contrary, an apprehension of the infinite is possible and legitimate, if I have succeeded in show- ing that this apprehension of the infinite underlies and pervades all our perceptions of finite things, and likewise all the reasonings that flow from them, then we have firm ground to stand on, whether we examine the various forma which that sentiment has assumed among the nations of antiquity, or whether we sound the foundations of our own faith to its lowest depth.

The arguments which I placed before you in my first lecture were, however, of a purely abstract nat-


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IS FKTISHISM A PHIMITIVE FORM OF RFXIGIOS ? 51

ure. It wiis the possibility, not the reality of the perception of the infinite which alone I wished to es- tablish. Nothing could be farther from my thoughts than to represent the perfect idea of the infinite aa the first step in the historical evolution of religious ideas. Religion begins as little with the perfect idea of the infinite as astronomy begins with the law oE gravity : nay, in its purest form, that idea Is the last rather than the first step in the march of the human intellect.

MANA, A MELANESIA^" NAME FOR THE INFINITE.

How the idea of the infinite, of the unseen, or as we call it afterwards, the Divine, may exist among the lowest tribes in a vague and hazy form we may see, for instance, in the Mana o£ the Melanesians, Mr. R. H. Codrington, an experienced missionai-y and a thoughtful theologian, says in a letter, dated July 7, 1877, from Norfolk Island : T!ie religion of the Melanesians consists, as far as belief goes, in the pei'suaaion that there is a supernatural power about, belonging to the region of the unseen ; and, as far as practice goes, in the use of means of getting this power turned to their own benefit. The notion of a Supreme Being is altogether foreign to them, or in- deed of any Being occupying a verj' elevated place in their world " (p. 14).

And again : " There is a belief in a force alto- gether distinct from physical power, which acts in ;di kinds of ways for good and evil, and which it is of the greatest advantage to possess or control. This is Mana. The word is common, I believe, to the whole Pacific, and people have tried very hard to describe what it is in different regions. I think I know what


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i)2 IS FiaiSHISM A PHISIITIVE FORM OF rSELIGION?

our people mean by it, and that meaning seems to me to cover all that I hear about it elsewhere. It is a power or influence, not physical, and, in a way, supernatural; but it shows itself in physical force, or in any kind of power or excellence which a man possesses. This Mana is not fixed in anything, and can be conveyed in almost anything ; but spirits, whether disembodied souls or supernatural beings, have it, and can impart it ; and it essentially belongs to personal beings to originate it, though it may Jtct through the medium of water, or a stone, or a bone. All Melanesian religion, in fact, consists in getting this Mana for one's self, or getting it used for one's benefit — all religion, that is, as far as religious prac- tices go, prayers and sacrifices."

This Mana is one of the early, helpless expressions of what the apprehension of the infinite would be in its incipient stages, though even the Melanesian Mana shows ample traces both of development and corruption.

My first lecture, therefore, was meant to be no more than a preliminary answer to a preliminary as^ sertion. In reply to that numerous and powerful class of philosophers who wish to stop us on the veiy threshold of our inquiries, who tell us that here on earth there is no admission to the infinite, and that if Kant has done anything be has forever closed our approaches to it, we had to make good our right by producing credentials of the infinite, which even the most positive of positiviats has to recognize, viz., — the evidence of our senses.

We have now to enter upon a new path ; we have to show how men iu different parts of the world worked their way in different directions, step by


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IS FETISHISM A PRIMITIVE FORM OF RELIGION? 53

step, from the simplest perceptions of the world around them, to tlie higliest concepts of religion and philosophy ; how, in fact, the consciousness of the in- finite, which lay hidden in every fold of man's earliest impressions, was unfolded in a thousand different ways till it became freer and freer of its coarser ingredi- ents, reaching at last that point of purity which we imagine is the highest that can be reached by human thought. The history of that development is neither more nor less than the history of religion, closely con- nected, as that history always lias been and must be, with the history of philosophy. To that history we now turn, as containing tiie only trustworthy illustra- tion of the evolution of the idea of the infinite from tlie lowest beginnings to a height which few can reach, but to which we may all look up from the nether part of the mount.

FETISHISM, THE ORIGINAL FORM OF ALL EELIGIOS". If you consulted any of the books that have been written during the last hundred years on the history of religion, you would find in most of them a striking agreement on at least one point, viz., that the low- est form of what can be called religion is fetishism, that it is impossible to imagine anything lower that would still deserve that name, and that therefore fetishism may safely be considered as the very begin- ning of all religion. Wherever I find so flagrant an instance of agreement, the same ideas expressed in almost the same words, I confess I feel suspicious, and I always think it right to go back to the first sources, in order to see under what circumstances, and for what special purpose, a theory which com- mands such ready and general assent has first been started. -, .


IS FETISHISM A PRIMITIVE FOEM OF RELIGION '!


DE BROSSES, THE INVENTOR OP FETISHISM.

Tlie word fetishism was never used before tlie year 1760. In that year appeared an anonymous book called "Du CuUe des Dieux FtJtiches, ou, Paralliile de I'ancienne Religion de I'Egypte avec la Religion actuelle de Nigiitie." It ia known tiiat this Httle book was written by De Drosses, the well-known President De Brosses, the correspondent of Voltaire, one of the most remarkable men of the Voltairian pei-iod (born in 1709, died 1777). It was at the instigation of his friend, the great Bnffon, that De Brosses seems to have devoted himself to the study of savage tribes, or to the study of man in historic and prehistoric times. He did so by collecting the best descriptions which he could find in the books of old and recent travelers, sailors, missionaries, traders, and explorers of distant countries, and he published in 1756 bis " Histoire des navigations aux terres Australes," two large volumes in quarto. Though this book is now antiquated, it contains two names which, I believe, occur here for the first time, which were, it seems, coined by De Brosses himself, and which will probably survive when all his other achievements, even his theory of fetishism, have been forgotten, viz., the names Australia and Polt/-

Anotber book by the same author, more often quoted than read, is his " Trait6 de la Formation mdcanique des Langues," published in 1765. This is a work which, though its theories are likemse anti- quated, well deserves a careful perusal even in these heydays of comparative philology, and which, particu- larly in its treatment of phonetics, was certainly far in advance of its time.

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IS FETISHISM A PRIMITIVE FORM OF RELIGION? 56

Between his book on Eastern Voyages and hia treatise on the Meehanical Formation of Language, lies his worli on the Worship of the Fetish Deities, which may rightly be described as an essay on the raechanieall formation of religion. De Brosses was dissatisfied with the current opinions on the origin oE mythology and religion, and he thought that hia study of the customs of tiie lowest savages, particu- larly those on the west coast of Africa, as described by Portuguese sailors, offered him the means of a more natural explanation of that old and difficult problem,

"This confused mass of ancient mythology," he says, " has been to us an undecipherable chaos, or a purely arbitrary riddle, so long as one employed for its solution the figurism of the last Platonic philoso- phers, who ascribed to ignorant and savage nations a knowledge of the most hidden causes of nature, and perceived in a heap of trivial practices of gross and stupid people intellectual ideas of the most abstract metaphysics. Nor have they fared better who tried, mostly by means of forced and ill-grounded compari- sons, to find in the ancient mythology the detailed, though disfigured, history of the Hebrew nation, a nation that was unknown almost to all others, and made a point never to communicate its doctrines to

strangers Allegory is an instrument which

will do anything. The system of a figurative mean- ing once admitted, one soon sees everything in every- thing, as in the clouds. The matter is never embar- rassing, all that is wanted is spirit and imagination. The field is large and fertile, whatever explications jnay be required.

" Some scholars," he continues, " more judicious.


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56 IS FETISHISM A. PRIJIITnT FORM OF KEUGIOX ?

better instructed also in the history of the early na- tions whose colonies first discovered the E;ist, and familiar with Oriental languages, have at last, after clearing mythology of the rubbish with which the Greeks had covered it, found the true key of it in the actual history of the early nations, their opinions and their rulei's, in the false translations of a number of simple expressions, the meaning of which had been forgotten by those who nevertheless continued to use them ; and in the homonymies which out of one ob- ject, designated by various epithets, have made so many different beings or persons,

" But these keys which open so well the meaning of historical fables, do not always suffice to give a reason for the singularity of the dogmatic opinions, nor of the practical rites of the early nations. These two portions of heathen theology depend either on the worship of the celestial bodies, well known by the name of Saheism, or on the probably not less an- cient worship of certain terrestrial and material ob- ](f.cts, called /^(i'cAe, by the African negroes (he meant to say by those who visited the African negroes), and which for this reason I shall call FitieM»me. I ask permission to use this terra habitually, and though in the proper signification it refers' in particular to the religion of the negroes o£ Afnca only, I give notice beforehand that I mean to use it with reference also to any other nation paying worship to animals, or to inanimate things which are changed into gods, even when these objects are less gods, in the proper senso of the word, than things endowed with a certain di- vine virtue, such as oracles, amulets, or protecting talismans. For it is certain that all these forms of thought have one and the same origin, which belongs


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IS FETlSmSJI A PRIMITIVE FOEM OK REI.IGIOM ? 5 1

to one general religion, formerly spread over the ■whole enrth, which mnst be examined by itself, con- stituting, aa it does, a separate class among the vari- ons religions of tbe heathen world."

De Brosses divides his book into three parts. In the first lie collects all the information which was then accessible on fetishism, as still practiced by bar- barous tribes in Africa and other parts of the world. In the second he compares it with the religious prac- tices of the principal nations of antiquity. In the third be trios to show that, as these practices are very like to one another in their outward appearance, we may conclude that their original intention among the negroes of to-day and among the Egyptians, tbe Greeks, and Romans, was tbe same.

All nations, he holds, bad to begin with fetishism, to be followed afterwards by polytheism and mono- theism.

One nation only forms with him an exception — the Jews, the chosen people of God. They, according to De Brosses, were never fetish- worshipers, while all other nations first received a piimeval divine revela- tion, then forgot it, and then began again from the beginning — viz., with fetishism.

It is curious to observe the influence which the prevalent theological ideas of tbe time exercised even on De Brosses. If he had dared to look for traces of fetisliism in the Old Testament with tbe same keen- ness which made him see fetishes in Egypt, in Greece, in Rome, and everywhere else, surely tbe Teraphim, the Urim and Tbummim, or tbe ephod, to say noth- ing of golden calves and brazen serpents, might have supplied him with ample material (Gen, xxviii. 18 ; Jerem. ii. 27),


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58 IS FETISHISM A PEIMITIVE FOKM OF RELIGION ?

But though on this and some other points those who have more recently adopted and defended the theory of De Brosses would differ from him, on the whole his view of fetishism has been maintained in- tact during the last hundred years. It sounded so easy, so natural, so plausible, that it soon found its way into manuals and school-books, and I believe we all of us have been brought up on it.^ I myself cer- tainly held it for a long time, and never doubted it, till I became more and more startled by the fact that, while in the earliest accessible documents of religions thought we look in vain for any very clear traces of fetishism, they become more and more frequent every- where in the latter stages of religious development, and are certainly more visible in the later corruptions of the Indian religion,^ beginning with the Athar- vama, than in the earliest hymns of the Rig- Veda.

ORIGIN" OF THE NAME OF FETISH. Why did the Portuguese navigators, who were Christians, but Christians in that metamorphic state which marks the popular Roman Catholicism of the last century — why did they recognize at once what thej' saw among the negroes of the Gold Coast, a3 feitipos ? The answer is clear. Because they them- selves were perfectly familar with afeUtpo, au amulet or a talisman ; and probably all carried with them

1 Meiners, whose AUgemiim Kritliche GesOUchtt dsr Eetisiimea, 1806, vos [or many years the chief storebouse for all who wrote on the history of religion, says : " It cannot be denied that fetishism ie not only (he oldest, but also (he most uni tarsal worship of gods."

3 L'i5tranger qui arrive dans I'Inde, et moi-mSmo je n'ai pas fait ex- ception a ceOe rigle, no di?eouvre d'abord que des pratiques religieuses anssi d^gradantes que di'grad^es, un vrai polythi5jsnie pre-que du f^lieb- isme." Dt In twpMorUe da Brahmantame lur Ie Calhohcunie, Confi'renee diinmSe pat M. Goblet d'Alvidla.


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IS FETTSHISM A PRIMITIVE FOEM OF liELIGlO:^ ? 59

some beads, or crosses, or images, that had been blessed by their priests before they started for their voyage. They theinselvea were fetish- worehipera in a certain sense. What was more natural, therefore, for them, if they saw a native hugging some ornament, or unwilling to part with some glittering stone, or it may be prostrating himself and praying to some bones, carefully preserved in his hut, than to suppose that the negroes did not only keep these things for hick, but that they were sacred relics, something in fact like what they themselves would call /ei%o,^ As they discovered no other traces of any religious wor- ship, they concluded very naturally that this outward show of I'egard for these feitifos constituted the whole of the negro's religion.

Suppose tliese negroes, after watching the proceed- ings of their white visitors, had asked on their part what the religion of those white men might be, what would they have said? They saw the Portuguese sailors handling their rosaries, burning incense to dauby images, bowing before altars, carrying gaudy flags, prostrating themselves before a wooden cross. They did not see them while saying their prayers, they never witnessed any sacrifices offered by them to their gods, nor was their moral conduct such as to give the natives the idea that they abstained from any crimes because they feared the gods. What would have been more natural, therefore, for them than to say that their religion seemed to consist in a worship of ffru-ffrus, their own name for what the Portuguese called feitigo, and that they had no idea of a supreme spirit or a king of heaven, or offered any worship to him ?

With regard to the word, it is well known that the


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CO IS FKTiSlIISJI A PEIJIITIVE FOEJI OF lUXiGIOS ?

Portuguese /ei(2po corresponds to Latin factUius. Fae- titiuB, from meaning what is made hy liaiid, came to mean artificial, then unnatural, magical, enchanted and enchanting. A false key is called in Poi-tiiguese chuve feitifa, wliile feitifo becomes the recognized name for amulets and similar half-sacred trinkets. The trade in such articles was perfectly recognized in Europe during the Middle Ages, as it is still among the negroes of Africa. A manufacturer or seller of them was called feitifero, a word which, however, was likewise used in the sense of a magician or con- jurer. How common the word was in Portuguese we see from its being used in its diminntive form as a term of endearment, meu feitifinho meaning my little fetish, or darling.

We see a similar transition of meaning in the Sans- krit kriti/d, the Italian /«((«»■<(, incantation, which oc- curs in mediaeval Latin as far back as 1311 ;^ also in cA«n«e, which was originally no more than carmen; and in the Greek tircuS,;.

WRONG EXTENSION OF THE NAME FETISH. It will be clear from these considerations that the Portuguese sailors — for it is to them that we are in- debted for the introduction of the v^ovd fetish, — could have applied that term to certain tangible and in- animate objects only, and that it was an unwarrant- able liberty taken with the word which enabled De Brosses to extend it to animals, and to such things as mountains, trees, and rivers. De Brosses imagined that the unma feitifo was somehow related to fatum, and its modern denvative fata (nom. plur. of the ' "SynoduB Fergani.," ann. 1311, epuil HMratorium, torn. 9, col. B61 ; incantaliones, Bacrilcgia, auguria, val inaleficJH, ijiiLt fatlui'o; sive praiStigia vulgariler appellsntur.


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IS FETISHISM A PRIMITIVE FORM OF RELIGION? 61

neuter, used afterwards as a nom. sing, of the fem- inine), a/^e, a fairy ; and this may have made it ap- pear less incongruous to him to apply the name of fetish, not only to artificial and material objects, but also to trees, mountains, rivers, and even to animals. This was the first unfortunate step on the part of De Brosses, for he thus mixed up three totally distinct phases of religion, iirst, physiolatry, or the worship paid to natural objects which impress the mind of man with feelings of awe or gratitude, such as rivers, trees, or mountains ; secondly, zoolatry, or the wor- ship paid to animals, aa for instance by the highly- cultivated inhabitants of ancient Egypt ; and lastly, fetishism proper, or the superstitious veneration felt and testified for mere rubbish, apparently without any claim to such distinction.

But this was not all. De Brosses did not keep what he calls fetish-worship distinct even from idol- atry, though there is a very important distinction be- tween the two. A fetish, properly so called, is itself regarded as something supernatural ; the idol, on the contrary, was originally meant as an image only, a similitude or a symbol of something else. No doubt an idol was apt to become a fetish ; but in the begin- ning, fetish worship, in the proper sense of the word, springs from a source totally different from that which produces idolatry.

Let us hear how De Brosses explains his idea of a fetish. "These fetishes," he says, "are anything which people like to select for adoration, — a tree, a mountain, the sea, a piece of wood, the tail of a lion, a pebble, a shell, salt, a fish, a plant, a flower, certain animals, such as cows, goats, elephants, sheep, or anything like these. These are the gods of the negro,


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62 JS FETISHISM A PRIMITIVE FOUM OF EELIGION ?

Bacred objects, talismans. The negroes offer them worship, address their prayers to them, perform sacri- fices, carry them about in procession, consult tbem on gieat occasions. They swear by tbem, and such oaths are never broken.

" There are fetishes belonging to a whole tribe, and others belonging to individuals. National fetishes have a kind of public sanctuary ; private fetishes are kept in their own place in the houses of private in- dividuals.

"If the negroes want rain, they place an empty jar before the fetish. When they go to battle, they deposit their weapons before it or him. If they are in want of fish or meat, bare bones are laid down be- fore the fetish ; while, if they ■wish for palm-wine, they indicate their desire by leaving with the fetish the scissors with which the incisions are made in the palm-trees.^ If their prayers are heard, all is right. But if they are refused, they think that they have somehow incurred the anger of their fetish, and they try to appease him."

Such is a short abstract of what De Brosses meant by fetishism, what he believed the religion of the negroes to be, and what he thought the religion of all the great nations of antiquity must have been before they reached the higher stages of polytheism and monotheism.

USEFULNESS OF THE STUDY OP SAVAGE TBIBES.

The idea that, in order to understand what the so- called civilized people may have been before they reached their higher enlightenment, we ought to study savage tribes, such as we find them still at the

' Siniilar customs mentioded \iy Waitz, Anlhrnpolo^ie, vol. ii. p. 177.



IS FETISHISM A riilMITIVE FORM OF RELIGION? 63

present day, is perfuetly just. It is the lesson which geology has taught us, applied to the stratiti cation of the human race. But the danger o£ mistaking meta- phoiic for primary igneous rocks is much less in geol- ogy than in anthropology. Allow me to quote some excellent remarks on this point hy Mr. Herhert Spen- cer.i " To determine," he writes, " what conceptions are truly primitive, would be easy if we had accounts of truly primitive men. But there are simdi'y reasons for suspecting that existing men of the lowest types, forming social groups of the simplest ftinds, do not exemplify men as they originally were. Probably most of them, if not all, had ancestors in higlier states ; and among their beliefs remain some which were evolved during these higher states. While the degradation theory, as currently held, is untenable, the theory of progression, taken in its unqualified form, seems to me untenable also. If, on the one hand, the notion that savagery is caused by lapse from civilization is irreconcilable with the evidence, there is, on the other hand, inadequate warrant for the notion that the lowest savagery has always been as low as it is now. It is quite possible, and, I believe highly probable, that retrogression has been as fre- quent as progression."

Tliese words contain a most useful warning for those ethnologists who imagine that they have only to spend a few years among Papuas, Fuegians, or Anda- man Islandera, in order to know what the primitive ancestors of the Greeks and Romans may have been. They speak of the savage of to-day as if he had only just been sent into the world, forgetting that, as a


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64 IS FETISlIIS^t A IT,IJiITlVK FORK Ob" RtXlGION !

living speciea, he is protably not a day younger thiiii ■we ourselves.* He may be a more ahitionary being, but he may also have passed through many ups and downs before lie reached his present level. Anyhow, even if it could be proved that there has been a con- tinuous progression in everything else, no one could maintain that the same applies to religion.

FHEQUENT EETROGEESSION IN EELIGION. That religion is liable to corruption is surely seen again and again in the history of the world. In one sense the history of most rehgions might be called a slow corruption of their primitive purity. At all events, no one would venture to maintain that re- ligion always keeps pace with general civilization. Even admitting, therefore, that, with regiird to their tools, their dress, their manners and customs, the Greeks and Romans, the Germans and Celts may have been before the first dawn of history in the same stiite in which we find some of the negro races of Africa at present, nothing would justify the con- clusion that their rehgion also must have been the same, that they must have worshiped fetishes, stocks and stones, and nothing else.

We see Abraham, a mere nomad, fully impressed with the necessity of the unity of the godliead, while Solomon, famous among the kings of the earth, built high places for Chemosh and Moloch. Ephesus, in the sixth century before Christ, was listening to one of the wisest men that Greece ever produced, Herak- leitos ; wliile a thousand years later, the same town resounded with the frivolous and futile wranglings


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IS FETISmSM A PRIMITIVE FORM OF RELIGIOM? 65

of Cyrillns, and tlie council of Ephesus, The Hin- dus who, thousands of years ago, had readied in the Upanishads the loftiest heights of philosophy, are now in many places sunk into a groveling worship of cows and monlieys.

DIFFICULTY 01" STUDYING THE EELIGION OF SAV- AGES.

But there is another and even greater difficulty. If we feel inclined to ascribe to the ancestors of the Greelis and Romans the religion of the negroes and of other savages of the present day, have we seriously asked ourselves what we really know of the religious opinions of these so-called savages ?

A hundred years ago there might have been some excuse for people speaking in the most promiscuous manner of the religion of savages. Savages were then looked upon as mere curiosities, and almost anything related of them was readily believed. They were huddled and muddled together much in the same manner as I have heard Neander and Strauss quoted from the pulpit, as representatives of German neology ; and hardly any attempt was made to dis- tinguish between negro and negro, between savage and savage.

At present, all such general terms are carefully avoided by scientific ethnologists. In ordinary par- lance we may still use the name of negro for black people in general, but when we speak scientifically, negro is mostly restricted to tlie races on tlie west coast of Africa between the Senegal and the Niger, extending inhind to the Lake of Tchad and beyond, we hardly know how far. When the negro is spoken of as the lowest of the low, it generally is this negro


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bb IS FETISHISM A rRIMITIVE FORM OF RELIGION ?

of the west coast that ia intended, he from whom Europeans first took their idea of a fetish- worship.

It is not the place here to discuss the ethnogra- phy of Afi'ica as it has been estabhshed by tlie latest travelers. The classification as given by Waitz will suffice to distinguish tlie negro of the Senegal and Niger from bis nearest neighbors : —

First, the Berber and Copt tribes, inhabiting the north of Africa. For historical purposes they may be said to belong to Europe rather than to Africa, These races were conquered by the Mohammedan armies, and rapidly coalesced with their conquerors. They are sometimes called Moors, but never negroes.

Secondly, the races which inhabit Eastern Africa, the country of the Nile to the equator. They are Abyssinian or Nubian, and in language distantly al- lied to the Semitic family.

Thirdly, the Fulahs, who are spread over the greater part of Central Africa, and feel themselves everywhere as distinct from the negroes.

Fourthly, from the equator downward as far as the Hottentots, the Kaffer and Congo races, speaking their own well-defined languages, possessed of relig- ious ideas of great sublimity, and physiciilly also very different from what is commonly meant by a negro.

Lastly, the Hottentots differing from the i-est, both by their language and their physical appearance.

These are only the most general divisions of the races which now inhabit Africa. If we speak of all of them simply as negroes, we do so in the same loose manner in which the Greeks spoke of Scythians, and the Romans, before Cissar, of Celts. For scientific purposes the term negro should either be avoided


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IS FETISHISM A PRIMITIVE FORM OF KELIGION ;" b7

altogether, or restricted to the races scattered over about twelve degrees of latitude, from the Senegal to the Niger, aiid extending inland to the as yet unde- fined regions where they are bounded by Berber, Nubian, and KafEer tribes.

But though the ethnologist no longer speaks of the inhabitants of Africa aa negroes or niggers, it ia much more difficult to convince the student of history that these races cannot be lumped together as savages, but that here, too, we must distinguish before we can compare. People who talk very freely of savages, whether in Africa, or America, or Australia, would find it extremely difficult to give any definition of that term, beyond this, that savages are different from ourselves. Savages with us are still very much what barbarians were to the Greeks. But as the Greeks had to learn that some of these so-called bar- barians possessed virtues which they might have en- vied themselves, so we also shall have to confess that some of these savages have a religion and a philos- ophy of life which may. well bear comparison with the religion and philosophy of what we call the civil- ized and civilizing nations of antiquity. Anyhow, the common idea of a savage requires considerable modi- fication and differentiation, and there is perhaps no branch of anthropology beset with so many difficul- ties as the study of these so-called savage races.

LANGUAGE OF SAVAGES.

Let us examine a few of the prejudices commonly entertiiined with regard to these so-called savages, Their languages are supposed to be inferior to our own. Now here the science of language has done some good work. It has shown, first of all, that no


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68 IS FEnSillSSI A PEIMiriVK FORM OF Bl'XIGlOX?

human beings are without language, and we know what that implies. All the stones of tribes without language, oi-with languages more like the twitterings of birds than the articulate sounds of human beings, belong to the cliapter of ethnological fables.

What is more important still is that many of the so-called savage languages have been shown to pos- sess a most perfect, in many cases too perfect, that is to say, too artificial a grammar, while tlieir dic- tionary possesses a wealth of names which any poet might envy.^ True, this wealth of gnunmatical forms ^ and this superabundance of names for special objects are, from one point of view, signs of logical weakness and o£ a want of powerful generalization. Languages which have cases to express nearness to an object, movement alongside an object, approach towards an object, entrance into an object, but which have no purely objective case, no accusative, may be called rich, no doubt, but their richness is truly pov- erty. The same applies to their dictionary. It may contain names for every kind of animal ; again for the same animal when it is young or old, male or female ; it may have different words for the foot of a man, a horse, a lion, a hare ; but it probably is with- out a name for animal in general, nr even for sncli concepts as member or body. There is hero, as else- where, loss and gain on both sides. But however imperfect a language may be in one point or other, every language, even that of Papuas and Veddas, is such a masterpiece of abstract thought that it would bafBc the ingenuity of many philosophers to produce

1 A. B. Meyer, On the Mnfoor and other Papua Laa^Mijes of Nfw

2 SecTapliH, Tli<: Nuri-inseri, Smth AmtraVmn AlovUjina, p. 7T.

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IS FETISHISM A PEIMinVK FORM OF UEI.IGION ? 69

anything like it. In several cases the grammar of 80-palIed savage dialects bears evidence to a far higher state of mental culture possessed by these people in former times. And it must not be forgot- ten that every language has capacities, if they are only called oat, and that no language has yet been found into which it was not possible to translate tlie Lord's Prayer.

NUMERALS OP SAVAGES. For a long time it was considered as the strongest proof of the low mental cupacity of certain savages that they were unable to count beyond three or fonr or five. Now, first of all we want a good scholar ' to vouch for such facts when they exist ; but when they . have been proved to exist, then let ns begin to dis- tinguish. There may be tribes by whom everything beyond five, bej'ond the fingers of one hand, is lumped together as many, though I confess I have grave doubts whether, unless they are idiots, any human beings could be found unable to distinguish between five or six or seven cows.

But let us read the accounts of the absence of numerals beyond two or three more accurately. It was said, for instance, that the Abipones ^ have no numbers beyond three. What do we really find? That they express /owr by three plus one. Now this, ao far from showing any mental infirmity, proves in reality a far greater power of analysis than if four were expressed, say, by a word for hands and feet,

1 Speaking of tlie Dehomans, Mr. Burton {Memoirs of Ike AntkropologU cal Soeiely, 1. 314) says ; By perpelual rowrie-liandling Ihe people learn lo be ready reckoners. Amongst the cognate Yorubas the saying, " Yon cannot multiply nine by nine," means, " you are a dunce."

s Dohrizhofer, Hittoria de Abtponibua, 1784.



70 IS FETISHISM A PRIMITIVE FORM Of iiEOGION ?

or for eyes Hiid ears. Savages who expressed four by two-two, would never be in danger of considering the proposition that two and two make four, as a synthetic judgment a priori; they would know at once that in saying "two and two make two-two," they were simply enunciating an analytical judg- ment.

We must not be too eager to assert the mental supeiiority of the races to which we ourselves belong. Some very great scholars have derived the Aryan word for four (whether rightly or wrongly I do not ask) fi-om the Sanskrit Aa^-tur, the Latin quatuor, from three, ter, preceded by Aa, the Latin que, so that Aatur, in Sanskrit too, would have been con- ceived originally as one plus three. If some African tribes express seven either by jive plus two or »ix plus one^ why should this stamp them as the lowest of the low, whereas no one blames the French, marching at the head of European civilization, for expressing ninety by quatre-vingt-dix, fourscore ten, or the Romans for saying undeviginti for nineteen ? ^

No ; here too we must learn to mete to others that measure which we wish to he measured to us again. We must try to understand, before we presume to judge.

SO HISTORY AMONG SAVAOKS.

Another serious charge brought against the savage

in general is that he has no history. He hardly

1 Winterboltom, Account of the Native Africans ia the Neisk/mrbood of Sierra Leone. London, 1863, p. 230.

s Many cases of forming the words eight and nine by (en minus one or two will be found in the Comparative Table of Numerals at the end of my Essiiy on the Turanian Languages. See, also, Moaeley. On the laknb- Utiiits if the Adnirall'j Islands, p. 13, and Matthew?, Ilidatia erammar; p. 118.


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IS FETISHISM A PKIMITIVE FOKil OF EELIGION ? 71

counts the days of a year, still less the years of a life. Some negro tribes consider it wrong to do so, aa showing a want of trust in God.^ As they have no knowledge of writing, there is of course no trace of what we call history among them. I do not deny that an utter carelessness about the past and the future would be a sign of a low stage of cultivation ; but this can by no means be charged against all so- called savages. Many of them remember the names and deeds of their fathers and grandfathers, and the marvel is that, without the power of writing, they should have been able to preserve their traditions, sometimes for many generations.

The following remarks from a paper by the Rev. S. J. Whitmee throw some curious light on this subject : " The keepers of these national traditions (among the brown Polynesians) usually belonged to a few families, and it was their duty to retain in- tact, and transmit from generation to generation, the myths and songs intrusted to their custody. The honor of the families was involved in it. It was the hereditary duty of the elder sons of these families to acquire, retain, and transmit them with verhaf accuracy. And it was not only a sacred duty, but the right of holding such myths and songs was jeal- ously guarded as a valuable and honorable privilege. Hence the difficulty of having them secured by writ- ing. Care was taken not to recite them too fre- quently or too fully at one time. Sometimes they have been purposely altered in order to lead the

1 " Things pflBS away very rapidly in acouairy where everytting in the nature of a building Eoon decays, and where life is short, and lliete are no marked changes of seasons to make the people count by anything longer than months." E. H. Codrinf-ton, Norfolk Island, July 3, 1877.


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72 IS FETISHISM A FItlJflTIVE FOKM OF CELICION ?

hearers astray. Missionaries and other foreign resi- dents, who have manifested an interest in these myths, have often been deceived in tliis way. Only a person thoroughly familiar with the hmgiiage, quite eonvereant with the habits of the people, and who hiid tlieir conficleiice, could secure a trustwortliy ver- sion. And this was nsually secured only after a promise made to the keepers of these treasnrea not to make them public in the islands.

" But notwithstanding these difficulties, some mis- sionaries and others liave succeeded in making large collections of clioice myths and songs, and I am not without hope that before very long we may succeed in collecting them together for the formation of a comparative mythology of Polynesia.

"Most of these legends and songs contain archaic forms, both idioms and words, unknown to most of the present generation o£ the people,

" The way in which verbal accuracy in the trans- mission of the legends and songs has been secured is worth mentioning. In some islands all the principal stories, indeed all which are of value, exist in two forms, in prose and in poetry. The prose form gives the story in simjile language. The poetic gives it in rhythm, and usually in rhyme also. The poetic form is used as a check on the more simple and more easily changed prose form. As it is easy to alter and add to the prose account, that is never regarded as being genuine, unless each particular has its poetic tally. An omission or interpolation in the poetic form would, of course, be easily detected. Thus the people have recognized the fact that a poetic form is more easily remembered than a prose form, and that it is


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IS FETISHISM A rEIMITIVE FORM OF BELIGIOM? 73

Ijetter adapted for securing the strict accuracy of historical myths." ^

Our idea of history, however, is something totally different. To beep up the memory of the kings of Egypt and Babylon, to know by heart the dates of their battles, to be able to repeat the names of their ministers, their wives and concubines, is, no donbt, something very creditable in a Civil Service examina- tion, but that it is a sign of true culture I cannot persuade myself to believe. Sokrates was not a savage, but I doubt whether he could have repeated the names and dates of his own arehona, much less the dates of the kings of Egypt and Babylon.

And if we consider how liistory ia made in our own time, we shall perhaps be better able to appreciate the feelings of those who did not consider that every massacre between hostile tribes, every palaver of diplomatists, every royal marriage-feast deserved to be recorded for the benefit of future generations. The more one sees of how history is made, the less one thinks that its value can be what it was once supposed to be. Suppose Lord Beaconsfield, Mr. Gliidstone, and Prince Gortshakoff were to write the history of the last two years, what would future gen- erations have to believe ? What will futtwe genera- tions have to believe of those men themselves, when they find tliem represented by observers who had the best opportunity of judging them, either as high- minded patriots or as selfish partisans ? Even mere facta, such as the atrocities committed in Bulgaria, cannot be described by two eye-witnesses in the same manner. Need we wonder, then, that a whole na-


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74 IS I'ETISHISM A PBIMITIVE FORM OF BELIGIOX?

tioii, I mean the old Hindus, simply despised history, in tha ordinary sense of the word, and instead of burdening their memories with names and dates of kings, queens, and battles, caved more to remember the true sovereigns in the realm of thouglit, and the decisive battles for the conquest of truth ?

NO MOEALS AJfONG SAVAGES.

Lastly, all savages were supposed to be deficient in moral principles. I am not going to represent the savage as Rousseau imagined him, or deny that our social and political life is an advance on the hermit or nomadic existence of the tribes of Africa and America. But I maintain that each phase of life must be judged by itself. Savages have their own vices, but they also have their own virtues. If the negix* could write a black book against the white mail, we should miss in it few of the crimes which we think peculiar to the savage. The truth is that the morality of the negro and the white man cannot be compared, because their views of life are totally dif- ferent. What we consider wrong, they do not con- sider wrong. We condemn, for instance, polygsimy ; Jews and Mohammedans tolerate it, savages look upon it as honorable, and I have no doubt that, in their state of society, they are right. Savages do not consider European colonists patterns of virtue, and they find it extremely difficult to enter into their views of life.

Notliing puzzles the mere savage more than our restlessness, our anxiety to acquire and to possess, ratlier than to rest and to enjoy. An Indian chief is reported to have said toa European: "Ah, brother, you will never know the blessings of doing nothing


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IS FETISHISM A PRIMITIVE FORM OF RELIGION? 75

and thiuking nothing ; and yet, next to sleep, that ia the most delicious. Thus we were before our birth, thus we shall be again after death." The young girls in Tahiti, who were being taught weaving, very soon left the looms, and said, " Why should we toil? Have we not as many bread-fruits and cocoa-nuts as we can eat? You who want ships and beautiful dresses must labor indeed, but we are content with what we have."

Such sentiments are certainly very un-European, but they contain a philosophy of life which may be right or wrong, and which certainly cannot be dis- posed of by being simply called savage.

A most essential difference between many so-called savages and ourselves is the little store they set on life. Perhaps we need not wonder at it. There are few things that bind them to this life. To a woman or to a slave, in many parts of Africa or Australia, death must seem a happy escape, if only they could feel quite certain that the next life would not be a repetition of this. They are like children, to whom life and death are like traveling from one place to another ; and as to the old people, who have more friends on the other side of the grave than on this, they are mostly quite ready to go ; nay, they consider it even «n act of filial duty that their children should kill them, when life becomes a burden to them. How- ever unnatural this may seem to us, it becomes far less so if we consider that among nomads those who can travel no more must fall a prey to wild animals or starvation. Unless we take all this into account, we cannot form a right judgment of the morality and religion of savage tribes.


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Tt> IS FETISHISM A PHIMITIVE FORM OF EELIGIOS ?


KELIGION UNIVERSAL AJIONG SAVAGES.

At tiie timo wlieii De Brosses iivrote, the wonder was tliut bhiclv people should possess niiythiiig that could bo called morality ov religion, even a worship of stocks and stones. We have learnt to jmlge dif- ferently, thanks chiefly to the lahoi's of missionaries who have spent their lives among savages, have learnt their languages and gained their confidence, and who, though they liave certain prejudices of their own, have generally done full justice to the good points in their chai%cter. We may safely say that, in spite of all researches, no human beings have been found anywhere who do not possess something which to them is religion ; or, to put it in the most general form, a belief in something beyond what they can see with their eyes.

As I cannot go into the whole evidence for this statement, I may be allowed to quote the conclusions which another student of the scieuce of religion. Prof. Tiele, has arrived at on this subject, psirtieu- larly as, on many points, his views differ widely from ray own. " The statement," he says, " that there are nations or tribes which possess no religion rests either on inaccurate otservations, or ou a confusion of ideas. No tribe or nation has yet been met with destitute of belief in any higher beings, and travelers who asserted their existence have been afterwards refuted by facts. It is legitimate, therefore, to call religion, in its most general sense, an universal phe- nomenon of humanit}'." ^


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IS FETISHISM A PRIMITIVE I-'OEll OF KIOHGION ? 77


STUDY OF THE RELIGION OF LITERAltV NATIONS. When, however, these old prejudices Ii;id been removed, and when it had been perceived that the different races of Africa, America, and Australia could no longer be lumped together under tlie com- mon name of aavages, tiie real difBcultiea of studying these racea began to be felt, more particularly with regard to their religious opinions. It is difficult enough to give an accurate and scholar-like account of the religion of the Jews, the Greeks, the Romans, the Hindus and Persians ; but the difficulty of under- standing and explaining the creeds and ceremonials of those illiterate races is infinitely greater. Any one who has worked at the history of religion knows how hard it is to gain a clear insight into the views of Greeks and Romans, of Hindus and Persians on any of the gi'eat problems of life. Yet we have here a whole literature before ua, both sacred and profane, we can confront witnesses, and hear what may be said on the one side and the other. If we were asked, however, to say, whether the Greeks in general, or one race of Greeks in particular, and that race again at any particular time, believed in a future life, in a system of rewards and punishments after death, in the supremacy of the personal gods or of an impersonal fate, in the necessity of prayer and sacrifice, in the sacred character of priests and temples, in the in- spiration of prophets and lawgivers, we should find it often extremely hard to give a definite answer. There is a whole literature on the theology of Homer, but there is anything but unanimity between the best scholars who have treated on that subject during the last two hundred years.


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78 IS FETISHISM A PP.l.MITIVE FORM Of RELIGION?

Still more is this the case when we have to form our opinions of the religion of the Hindus and Per- sians, We have their sacred books, we Lave their own recognized commentaries : but who does not know that the decision whether the ancient poets of the Rig- Veda believed in the immortality of the soul depends sometimes on the right interpretation of a single word, while the question whether the author of the Avesta admitted an original dualism, an equal- ity between the principle of Good and Evil,^ has to be settled in some cases on purely gi-ammatical grounds ?

Let me remind you of one instance only. In the hymn of the Rig- Veda, which accompanies the burn- ing of a dead body, there occurs the following pas- sage (x. 16, 3) : —

" May the eye go to the sun, the breath lo the wind, U(i 10 hearen and (o the earth, as it is I'i^ht; Oi' go to Ihe waters, if tliat ia meet for tliee, Best among the herha with fhy limbs.

The unborn part — wann it with thy warmth, May Ihy glow warm it and thy flame ! With what are thy kindest shapes, O Fire, Carrj- him away to the world of Ilie Blessed."

This passage has often been discussed, and its right apprehension is certainly of great importance. A^ means unborn, a meaning which easily passes into that of imperishable, immortal, eternal. I ti'anslate a^o bhagaA by the unborn, the eternal part, and then admit a stop, in order to find a proper construction of the verse. But it has been pointed out that a^a means also goat, and others have translated, " The goat is thy portion." They also must admit the same kind of aposiopesis, which no doubt is not very

1 Chip/ from II Gtriiim Warkshtip, i. p. 110.


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iS FETISIIIS>t A PRIMITIVE FORM OF BELIGIOS ? 79

frequent in Sanskrit. It is perfectly true, as may be seen in the Kalpa-Sutras, that sometimes an ani- mal of the female sex was led after the corpse to the pile, and was burnt with the dead body. It was therefore called the AnnstiiraMi, the covering. But, first of all, this custom is not general, as it probably would be, if it could be shown to be founded on a passive of the Veda. Secondly, there is actually a Sutra that disapproves of this custom, because, as Kfltytlyana says, if the corpse and the animal are burnt together, one might in collecting the ashes eon- found tlie bones of the dead man and of the animal. Thirdly, it is expressly provided that this animal, whether it be a cow or a goat, must always be of the female sex. If, therefore, we translate, The goat is thy share I we place our hymn in direct contradiction with the tradition of the Sutras. There is a still greater difficulty. If the poet really wished to say, this goat is to be thy share, would he have left out tlie most important word, viz., thy. He does not say, the goat is thy share, but only, " the goat share."

However, even if we retain the old translation, there is no lack of difficulties, though the whole meaning becomes more natural. The poet says, first, that the eye should go to the sun, the breath to the air, that the dead should return to heaven and earth, and his limbs rest among herbs. Everything, there- fore, that was bom, was to return to whence it came. How natural, then, that he should ask, what would become of the unborn, the eternal part of man. How natural that, after such a question, there should be a pause, and that then the poet should continue: Warm it with thy warmth ! May thy glow warm it and thy flame ! Assume thy kindest form, Fire,


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80 IS FETISHISM A PHnriTIVK FORM OF RELICIO:^ ?


and carry him away to the ivorld of tlie ] Whom ? Not surely the goiit ; not even the corpse, but tile unborn, the eternal part of man.

It is possible, no doubt, and more than possible, that from tins passage by a very iiaturul misunder- standing the idea arose that with the corpse a goat (a^a) WHS to be bni'nt. We see, in the AthavvaHa, how eagerly the priests laid hold of that idea. We know it was owing to a similar misunderstanding that widows were burnt in India with their de;id hus- bands, and that Yama, the old deity of the setting sun, was changed into a king of the dead, and lastly into the first of men who died. There are indeed vast distances beyond the hymns of the Veda, and many things even in the earliest hymns become in- telligible only if we look upon them, not as just aris- ing, but as having passed already through many a metamorphosis.

This ia only one instance of the many difficulties connected with a right understanding of a religion, even where that religion possesses a large literiiture. The fact, however, that scholars may thus diiTer, does not affect the really scientific characti^r of their researches. They have to produce on either side the grounds for their opinions, and others in ly then form their own judgment. We are here on torajirma.

The mischief begins when plnlosophers, who are not scholars by profession, use the 1 ib us of Sanskrit, Zend, or chtssical scholars for their own purposes. Here there is real danger. The same writers who, without any references, nay, it m ly be, without hav- ing inquired into the credibility of their witnesses, tell us exactly what Kaffcrs, Bushmen and Hotten- tots believed on the soul, on de\th, un dod and the


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IS FETISHISM A PRIMITIVE FORJf OF RELIGION ? 81

world, seldom advance an opinion on the religion of Greeks, Romans, Persians, or Hindus which a scholar would nofc at once challenge. Of this, too, I must give a few instances, not in a Eault-finding spirit, but simply in order to point out a very real danger against which we ought all of us to guard most care- fully in our researches into the history of religion.

Tliere is no word more frequently used by the Brahmans than the woi-d Om. It may stand for avmn, and, like French oui for hoe illud, have meant originally Yes, but it soon assumed a solemn charac- ter, something like our Amen. It had to be used at the beginning, also at the end of every recitation, and there are few MSS. that do not begin with it. It is even prescribed for certain salutations ; ^ in fact, there were probably few words more frequently heard in ancient and modern India than Om. Yet we are told by Mr, H, Spencer^ that the Hindus avoid uttering the sacred name Om, and this is to prove that semi-civilized races have been interdicted from pronouncing the names of their gods. It is quite possible that in a collective work, such as Dr. Muir's most excellent " Sanskrit Texts," a piissage may occur in support of such a statement. In the mystic philosophy of the Upanishads, Om became one of the principal names of the highest Brahman, and a knowledge of that Brahman was certainly for- bidden to be divulged. But how different is that from stating that "by various semi-civilized races the calling of deities by their proper names has been interdicted or considered improper. It la so among the Hindus, who avoid uttering the sacred name

I ApasUirnln-Silras, i. *, 13, 6. Tratisakhya, 832, 838. 3 Sociology, 1. p. 298. G

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82 IS FETISHISM A PRIMITIVE FORM OF liELIGIOS ?

Om ; it was so ivith the Hebrews, whose pronuncia^ tion of the word Jehovah is not known for this reason ; and Herodotus carefully avoids naming Osiris." The last statement again will surprise those who remem- ber how it ia Herodotus who t«lls us that, though Egyptians do not ail worship the same gods, they all i\'i.>rship Isis and Osiris, whom they identify with Dionysus.'

Dr. Jiuir ^ is no doubt perfectly right in saying that in some passages of the Veda "certain gods are looked upon as confessedly mere created beings," and that they like men were made immortal by drink- ing soma. But this only shows how dangerous even such careful compilations as Dr. Muir's " Sanskrit Texts " are apt to become. The gods in the Veda are called agara or mviti/u-bandhu or amartya^ im- mortal, in opposition to men, who are martya, mor- tal, and it is only in order to magnify the power of soma, that this beverage, like the Greek d^/3pa<ria, is said to have conferred immortality on the gods. Nor did the Vedic poets think of their gods as what we mean hy " mere created beings," because they spoke of the dawn aa the daughter of the sky, or of Indra as springing from heaven and earth. At least we might say with much greater truth that the Greeks looked upon Zeus as a mere created thing, because he \vas the son of Kronos.

Again, what can be more misleading than, in or- der to prove that all gods were originally mortals, to quote Buddha's saying: "Gods and men, the rich and poor, alike must die ? " In Buddha's time, nay, even before Buddha's time, the old Devas, whom we choose to call gods, had been used up. Buddha b&-

1 Her. ii. 42; U4; l&C. ^ Sanskrit Texts, v. p. 12.


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IS FETISHISM A PRIMITIVE FORM OF RELIGION ? 83

lieved ill no Devas, perhaps in no God. He allowed the old Devas to subsist as mere fabulous beings : ^ and as fabulous beings of much greater consequence than the Devas shared in the fate of al! that exists, viz., an endless migration from birth to death, and from death to birth, the Devas could not be exempted from that common lot.

In forming an opinion of the mental ca.pacities of people, an examination of their language is no doubt extremely useful. But such an examination requires considerable care and circumspection. Mr. H. Spen- cer says,* " When we read of an existing South American tribe, that the proposition, ' I am an Abi- pone,' is expressible only in the vague way, ' I Abi- pone,' we cannot but infer that by such undeveloped grammatical structures only the simplest thoughts can be rightly conveyed," Would not some of the most perfect languages in the world fall under the same condemnation ?

STUDY OP THE EEl.IGION OF SAVAGES.

If such misunderstandings happen where they might easily be avoided, what shall we think when we read broad statements as to religious opinions of whole nations and tribes who possess no literature, whose very language is frequently but imperfectly understood, and who have been visited, it may be, by one or two travelers only for a few days, for a few weeks, or for a few years !

Let us take an instance. We are told that we may observe a very primitive state of religion among the people of Fiji. They regard tlie shooting-stars

■ See M. M., BudJhiHisoher Niliilismui. ' Sod'o/ojy, i. p. Hfl.


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84 m KEirsniSM A PiilMITIVE FORM OF RELIGION?

as gods, and the smaller ones as the departing souk of men. Before we can make any use of sueli a Btatement, ought we not to know, fitst, what is the exact name and concept of god among the Fijiiins; and secondly, of what objects besides shooting-stars that name is predicated ? Are we to suppose that the whole idea of the Divine which the Fijians had formed to themselves is concentrated in shooting- atars ? Or does the statement mean only that the Fijians look upon shooting-stars as one manifestation out of many of a Divine power familiar to them from other sources ? If so, then ali depends clearly on what these other sources are, and how from them the name and concept of something divine could have Bprinig.

When we are told that the poets of the Veda represent the sun as a god, we ask at once what is their name for god, and we are told deva, which originally meant bright. The biography of that sin- gle word deva would fill a volume, and not until we know its biography from its birth and infancy to its very end would the statement that the Hindus con- sider the sun as a deva, convey to ns any real mean- ing.

The same applies to the statement that the Fijians or any other races look upon shooting-stars as the departing souls of men. Are the shooting-stars the souis, or the souls the shooting- stars ? Surely all de- pends here on the meaning conveyed by the word soul. How did they come by that word? What was its original intention ? These are the questions which ethnological psychology has to ask and to answer, before it can turn with any advantage to the numerous anecdotes which we find collected in works on the study of man. -. .

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IS FETISHISM A PRIMITIVE FORM OF EELiGION ? 85

It is a well-known fact that many words foe soul meant originally shadow. But what meaning shall we attach, for instance, to such a statement as that Benin negroes regard their shadows as their souls ? If soul is here used in the English sense of the word, then the negroes could never believe their English souls to he no more than their African shadows. The Cjuestion is, Do they simply say that a (shadow) is equal to a (shadow), or do they want to auy tliat a (shadow) is equal to something else, viz., b (soul) ? It is true that we also do not always see clearly what wo mean by sonl ; but what we mean by it could never be the same as mere shadow only. Unless, therefore, we are told whether the Benin negroes mean by their word for soul the anima, the breath, the token of life ; or the animus, the mind, the token of thought ; or the soul, as the seat of desires and passions ; unless we know whether their so-called soul is material or immaterial, visible or invisible, mortal or immortal, the mere information that cer- tain savage tribes look upon the shadow, or a bird, or a shooting-star as their soul seems to me to teach us nothing.

This was written before the following passage in a letter from the Rev. E. H. Codrington (dated July 3, 1877) attracted my attention, where that thought- ful missionary expresses himself in very much the same sense. "Suppose," he writes, " there are peo- ple who call the soul a shadow, I do not in the least believe they think the shadow a soul, or the soul a shadow ; but they use tJie word shadow figuratively for that belonging to man, which is like his shadow, definitely individual, and inseparable from him, but unsubstantial. The Mota word we use for soul is in


y


86 IS FETISHISM A PlilMlTU'E FORM Of RELIGIOS ?

Maori a shadow, but no Mota man knows that it ever means that. In fact, my belief is, tliat in the original language this word did not definitely mean either soal or shadow, but had a meaning one can conceive but not express, whicli lias come out in one language as meaning shadow, and in the other as meaning something like soul, i. e., second self."

What wo must try to understand is exactly this transition of meaning, how from the observation of the shadow which stays with us by day and seems to leave its by night, the idea of a second self arose ; how that idea was united with another, namely, that of breath, which stays with us during life, and seems to leave us at the moment of death; and how out of these two ideas the concept of a something, separate from the body and yet endowed with life, was slowly elaborated. Here we can watch a real transition from the visible to the invisible, from the material to the immaterial ; but instead of saying that people, in that primitive stage of thought, believe their sovils to be shadows, all we should be justified in saying would be that they believed that, after death, their breath, having left the body, would reside in some- thing like the shadow that foIlo\vs them during life. The superstition that a dead body easts no shadow, follows very naturally from this.

Nothing is more difBcult than to resist the tempta- tion to take an unexpected confirmation of any of our own theories, which we may meet with in the ac- counts of missionaries and ti'avelers, as a proof of their truth. The word for God throughout Eastern Pol3'nesia is Atua or Akua. Now ata, in the lan- guage of those Polynesian islanders, means shadow, and what would seem to be more natural than to see


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IS FETISHISM A PRIMITIVE FORJf OF liEIJGION ? 87

in this name of God, meaning originally sliadow, a confirmation o£ a favorite theory, that the idea of God sprang everywhere from the idea of spirit, and the idea of spirit from that of shadow ? It would seem more eaptiousness to object to such a theory, and to advise caution where all seems so clear. For- tunately the languages of Polynesia have in some in- stances been studied in a more scholarlike spirit, so that our theories must submit to being checked by facts. Thus Mr. Giil,^ who has lived twenty years at Mangaia, shows that atua cannot be derived from ata, shadow, but is connected with fatu in Tahitian and Samoan, and with attu, and that it meant originally the core or pith of a tree. From meaning the core and kernel, atu came to mean the best part, the strength of a thing, and was used in the sense of lord and master. The final a in Atua is intensive in significa- tion, BO that Atua expresses to a native the idea of the very core and life. This was the beginning of that conception of the Deity which they express by Atua. When we have to deal with the evidence placed before us by a scholar like Mr, Gill, who has spent nearly ail his life among one and the same tribe, a certain amount of confidence is excusable. Still even he cannot claim the same authority which belongs to Homer, when speaking of his own religion, or to St, Augustine, when giving us his interesting account of the beliefs of the ancient Romans. And yet, who does not know bow much uncertainty is left in our minds after we have read all that such men have to say with regard to their own religion, or the religion of the community in the midst of which they grew up and passed the whole of their life !

J Myths and Songifrom the South Piuifc, p. 83,


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88 IS FETISHISM A I'RIMITIVE FORM OF BELIGrOS ?

The difficulties which beset travelers and mission- aries in their description of the religions and intel- lectual life of savage tiibes are far more serious than is commonly supposed, and some of them deserve to be considered before we proceed fartlier.

INFLUENCE OF PUBLIC OPINION ON TEAVELERS.

First of all, few men are quite proof against the fluctuations of public opinion. There was a time when many travelers were infected with Rousseau's ideas, so that in their eyes all savages became very much what the Germans were to Tacitus, Then came a reaction. Partly owing to the influence of American ethnologists, who wanted an excuse for slaveiy, partly owing, at a later time, to a desire of finding the missing link between men and monkeys, descriptions of savages began to abound which made ns doubt whether tlie negro was not a lower creature than the gorilla, whether be really deserved the name of man.

"When it became a question much agitated, whether religion was an inherent characteristic of man or not, some travelers were always meeting with tribes who had no idea and name for gods ; ^ others discovered exalted notions of religion everywhere. My friend Mr. Tylor has made a very useful collection of con- tradictory accounts given by different observer's of the religious capacities of one and tlie same tribe. Per- haps the most ancient instance on record is the ac- count given of the religion of the Germans by Cfesar and Tacitus. CsBsar states that the Germans count those only as gods whom they can perceive, and by whose gifts they are clearly benefited, such as the

J M. M,, Iluiors of Ancient Sansh-il LiUralare, p. 538.


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IS FETISHrSM A PRIMITIVE FORM OF RELIGION '! 89

Sun, the Fire, and the Moon.^ Tacitus declares " that they call by the names of gods tiiat hidden thing which they do not perceive, except by reverence." ^

It may, of course, be said that in the interval be- tween Ctesar and Tacitus the whole religion of Ger- many had clianged, or that Tacitus came in contact with a more spiritual tribe of Germans than Ctesar. But, even if granting that, do we make allowance for eueh influences in utilizing the accounts of early and later travelers ?

ABSENCE OP EECOONIZBD AUTHOEITIES AMONG SAVAGES.

And even if we find a traveler without any scien- tific bias, free from any wish to please the leaders of any scientific or theological school, there remains, when he attempts to give a description of savage or half-savage tribes and their religion, the immense difficulty that not one of these religions has any rec- ognized standards, that religion among savage tribes is almost entirely a personal matter, that it may change from one generation to another, and that even in the same generation the greatest variety of indi- vidual opinion may prevail with regard to the gravest questions of their faith. True, there are priests, there may be some sacred songs and ciistoma, and there always is some teaching from mothers to their children. But there is no Bible, no prayer-book, no catechism. Heligion floats in the air, and each man takes as much or as little of it as he likes.

We shall thus understand why accounts given by

1 De Bella Gall. vi. 21. " Deonim numenj eos mTus ducmit quos cer- DunI, et quorum aperte opibus juv


IS appellant eecrctum iltud quod



90 IS FETISHISM A PRIMITIVE FOBM OF RKLIGION ?

different missionaries and travelers of the religion of one and the same tribe should sometimes differ from each other like black and white. There may be in the same tribe an angel of light and a vulgar niffian, yet both would be considered by European travelers as unimpeachable authorities witli regard to their re- ligion.

That there are differences in the religious couvio tions of the people is admitted by the negroes them- selves.^ At Widali, Des Marebais was distinctly told that the nobility only knew of the supreme God as omnipotent, omnipresent, rewarding the evil and the good, and that they approaohed him with prayers only when all other appeals had failed. There is, however, among all nations, savage as well as civil- ized, another uobility — the divine nobility of good- ness and genius — which often places one man many centuries in advance of the common crowd.

Think only what the result would be if, in Eng- land, tlie criminal drunkard and the sister of mercy who comes to visit him in his miserable den were asked to give an account of their common Christian- ity, and you will be less surprised, I believe, at the discrepancies in the repoi-ts given by different wit- nesses of the creed of one and the same African tribe.

ArTHOElTY OF PRIESTS.

It might be said that the priests, when consulted on the religious opinions of their people, ought to be unimpeachable authorities. But is that so ? Is it so with us?

We have witnessed ourselves, not many years ago, bow one of the most eminent theologians declared

1 Waitz, Anthropoloffie, ii, 171.


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IS FETISfflSM A PEIMITWE FOKM OF REI-IGION ? 91

that one whose bust now stands with those of Keble and Kingsley in the same chapel of Westminster Ab- bey, did not believe in the same God as himself! Need we wonder, then, if priests among the Ashantia differ as to the true meaning of their fetishes, and if travelers who have listened to different teachers of religion differ in the accounts which they give to us? In some parts of Africa, particularly where the in- fluence of Mohammedanism is felt, fetishes and sell- ers of fetishes are despised. The people who believe in them are called tkiedos, or infidels.' In other parts, fetish-worship rules supreme, and priests who manufacture fetishes and live by the sale of them shout very loudly, " Great is Diana of the Epbesians."

UKIVILLINGNESS OF SAVAGES TO TALK OP RE- UGION.

Lastly, let us consider that, in order to get at a real understanding of any religion, there must be a wish and a will on both sides. Many savages shrinir from questions on religious topics, partly, it may be, from some superstitious fear — partly, it may be, from their helplessness in putting their own unfinished thoughts and sentiments into definite language. Some races are decidedly reticent. Speaking is an effort to them, After ten minutes conversation they complain of headache.^ Others are extremely tullcative, and have an answer to everything, little caring whether what they say is true or not.^

This difficulty is admirably stated by the Rev. R. H. Codrington, in a letter from Norfolk Island, July

IW^tz, ii. 200. "On Different ClaaseB of Priests, "ii. 199. 1 Burcliell, Beiten in dia latere wm SSdafrika, 1823, pp, 71, 281. Seliultae, Fetiichitnius, p. 38. H. Spencer, Socio logy, i. p. 94.

  • Mayer, Papua-spnu^Aen, p. 19.



92 IS FETISHISM A PRIMITIVE fORM OF RIXIGIOS?

3, 1877 : " But the confusion about such matters does not ordinarily lie in the native mind, but proceeds from the want of clear communication between the native i«id European. A native who knows a little English, or one trying to communicate with an Eng- lishman in his native tongue, finds it very much more easy to assent to what the white man suggests, or to use the words that he knows, without perhaps exactly knowing the meaning, than to struggle to convey exactly what he thinks is the true account. Hence visitore receive what tliey suppose trustworthy infor- mation from natives, and then print things which read very absurdly to those who know the truth. Much amusement was caused to-day when I told a Mevlav boy that I had just read in a book (Capfc. Moresby's on New Guinea) of the idols lie had seen in bis village, which it was hoped that boy would be able to teach the natives to reject. He had a hand in making them, and they are no more idols than the gargoyles on your chapel ; yet I have no doubt some native told the naval officers that they were idols, or devils, or something, when he was asked whether they were not, and got much credit for hia knowledge of English."

I mentioned in my first Lecture the account of some excellent Benedictine ^ missionaries, who, after three years spent at their station in Australia, came to the conclusion that the natives did not adore any deity, whether true or false. Yet they found out afterwards that the natives beheved in an omnipotent Being, who had created the world. Suppose they

I A Benedictine MiF^'iionarv's account of the natives of Aiistraila and Oeeaiiia Frani the [talun of Don Rudeainilo SaWado (Komf, I85U, by C. II r Carnii^hacl JiumrdifiheAnlhropolusicallnililule, February,


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IS FETISHISM A PRIMITIVE FOKM OF RELIGION? 9B

had left their station before having made this discov- ery, who would have dared to contradict their state- ments ?

De Brosses, when lie gave his first and fatal ac- count of fetishism, saw none of these difEculties. Whatever he fonnd in the voyages of sailors and traders was welcome to him. He had a theory to defend, and whatever seemed to support it was sure to be true.

I have entered thus fully into the diEBcultiea in- herent in the study of the religions of savage tribes, in order to show how cautious we ought to be before we accept one-sided descriptions of these religions; still more, before we venture to build, on such evi- dence as is now accessible, far-reaching theories on the nature and origin of religion in general. It will be difficult indeed to eradicate the idea of a universal primeval fetishism from the text-books of liistory. That very theory has become a kind of scientific fetish, tiiough, like most fetishes, it seems to owe its existence to ignorance and superstition.

Only let me not be misunderstood. I do not mean to dispute the fact that fetish-worship is widely prev- alent among the negroes of Western Africa and other savage races.

What I cannot bring myself to admit is, that any ■writer on the subject, beginning with De Brosses, has proved, or ever attempted to prove, that what they call fetishism is a primitive form of religion. It may be admitted to be a low form, but that, par- ticularly ill religion, is very diEEerent from a primitive form of religion.


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94 IS FETISHISM A PRIMITIVE FORM OF RELIGION ?

WIDE EXTENSION OF THE MEANING OF FETISH.

One of the greatest difficulties we have to en- counter in attempting to deal in a truly scientific spirit with the problem of fetishism, is the wide extension that has been given to the meaning of the word fetish.

De Brosses speaks already of fetishes, not only in Africa, but among the Red Indians, the Polynesians, the northern tribes of Asia; and after his time hardly a single corner of the world has been visited without traces of fetish-worsliip being discovered, I am the last man to deny to this spirit which sees similarities everywhere, its scientific value and justi- fication. It is the comparative spirit which is at work everywhere, and which has achieved the great- est triumphs in modem times. But we must not forget that comparison, in order to be fruitful, must be joined with distinction, otherwise we fall into that dangerous habit of seeing cromlechs wherever there are some upright stones and another laid across, or a dolmen wherever we meet with a stone with a hole in it.

AVe have heard a great deal lately in Germany, and in England also, of tree-worship and serpent- worship. Nothing can be more useful than a wide collection of analogous facts, but their true scientific interest begins only when we can render to ourselves an account of how, beneath their apparent similarity, there often exists the greatest diversity of origin.

It is the same in 'Comparative Philology. No doubt there is gi-ammar everywhere, even in tiie lan- guages of the lowest races ; but if we attempt to force our grammatical terminology, our nominatives and


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accusatives, our actives and passives, our gerunds and supines upon every language, we lose the chief lesson which a comparative study of language is to teach us, and we fail to see how the same object can be real- ized, and was realized, in a hundred different ways, in a hundred different languages. Here, better than anywhere else, the old Latin saying applies : Si duo dicunt idem, non est idem, " If two languages say the same thing, it is not the same thing."

If there is fetish-worship everywhere, the fact is curious, no doubt ; but it gains a really scientific value only if we can account for the fact. How a fetish came to be a fetish, that is the problem which has to be solved, and as soon as we attack fetishism in that spirit, we shall find that, though being appar- ently the same everywhere, its antecedents are sel- dom the same anywhere. There is no fetish without its antecedents, and it is in these antecedents alone that its true and scientific interest consists.

ANTECEDENTS OF FETISHISM.

Let us consider only a few of the more common forms of what has been called fetishism ; and we shall soon see from what different heights and depths its sources spring.

It the bones, or the ashes, or the hair of a departed friend are cherished as relies, if they are kept in safe or sacred places, if they are now and then looked at, or even spoken to, by true mourners in their loneli- ness, all this may be, and has been, called fetish-wor- ship.

Again, if a sword once used by a valiant warrior, if a banner which had led their fathers to victory, if a stick, or let us call it a sceptre, if a calabash, or let


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96 IS FETISHISM A PRIMITIVE FORM OF EELIGION ?

US call it a drum, arc greeted with respent or enthu- siasm by soldiers when going to do battle themselves, all this may be called fetish- worship. If these ban- ners and swords are blessed by priests, or if the spirits of those who had carried them in former years are in- yoked, as if they were still present, all this may be put down as fetishism. If the defeated soldier breaks his sword across his knees, or tears his colors, or throws his eagles away, he may be said to be punish- ing his fetish , nay, Napoleon himself may be called a fetish -worshiper when, pointing to the pyramids, he said to hia soldiers, "From the summit of these monuments forty centuries look down upon you, sol- diers ! "

This is a kind of comparison in which similarities are allowed to obscure all differences.

No, we cannot possibly distinguish too mwcli, if we want not only to know, but to understand the ancient customs of savage nations. Sometimes a stock or a stone was worshiped, because it was a forsiiken altar, or an ancient place of judgment ; ^ sometimes because it marked the place of a great battle or a murder,^ or the burial of a king ; sometimes because it protected the sacred boundaries of clans or families. There are stones from which weapons can be made ; there are stones on which weapons can be sharpened ; there are stones, like the jade found in Swiss lakes, that must have been brouglit as heir-looms from great distances ; there are meteoric stones fallen from the sky. Are all these simply to be labeled fetishes, be- cause, for veiy good but very different reasons, they were treated with some kind of reverence by ancient and even by modern people ?

1 Paus. i. 28, 5. ^ Ibid. viii. 13, 3; x. 5, i.


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IS FETISHISM A PRIMITIVE FORM OF EF.LIGION ? 97

Sometimes the fact tbat a crude stone is worshiped as the imiige of a god may show a higher power o£ abstraction than the worship paid to the master-works of Phidias; sometimes the worship paid to a stone slightly resembling the human form may mark a very low stage of religions feeling. If we are satisfied with calling all this and much more simply fetishism, we shall soon be told that tho stone on which ail the kings of England have been crowned is an old fetish, atid that in the coronation of Queen Victoria we ought to recognize a survival of Anglo-Saxon fetishism.

Matters have at last gone so far that people trav- eling in Africa actually cross-examine the natives whether they believe in fetishes, as if the poor negro or the Hottentot or the Papua could have any idea of what is meant by such a word ! Native African words for fetish are gri-gri, gru-gru, ov ju-ju, all of them possibly the same word.' I mnst quote at least one story, showing how far superior the examinee may sometimes be to the examiners. " A negro was worshiping a tree, supposed to be his fetish, with an offering of food, when some Enropean asked whether he thought that the tree could eat. The negro re- plied : ' Oh, the tree is not the fetish, the fetish is a spirit and invisible, but he has descended into this tree. Certainly he cannot devour our bodily food, but he enjoys its spiritual part, and leaves behind the bodily part, which we see,' " The story is almost too good to be true, but it rests on the authority of Halleur,^ and it may serve at least as a warning

> Waits, ii. p. 176. F. SchnUae states thatlhe negroesaclnptedthatwopd from the Portuiciicae. Bastian gives tnqaizi as a name for Tetixli on the West Coast oC Africa: also mokisto {Bastian, Si. Saleadoi; pp. 251, 81).

2 Das Lebia der Nf^er West-Afnca's, p, 10. Cf. Waili, ii. p. 188. Tytor, PHmitioe CKltwe, ii. 107.


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i)8 IS rETisirrsM a pediitive form of rei.igiox .'

against onv interpreting the sacrificial acts of so- called savage people by one and the same i-ule, and against onr using teolmical terms so ill-chosen and so badly defined as fetishism.

Confusion becomes still ivorse confoiinded when travelers, who have accustomed themselves to the most modern acceptation of the word fetish, who use it, in fact, in the phiee of God, write their accounts of the savages races, among whom they have lived, in this modern jargon. Thus one tntveler tells us that " the natives say that the great fetish of Bamba lives in the bush, where no man sees him or can see him. When he dies, the fetish-priests carafully col- lect his bones, in order to revive them and nourish them, till they again acquire flesh and blood." Now here " the great fetish " is used in the Comtian sense of the word ; it nieims no longer fetish, but deity. A fetish that lives in the bush and cannot he seen is the very opposite of the feiti^o, or the gru-gru, or whatever name we may choose to employ for those lifeless and visible subjects which are worshiped by men, not otdy in Afi-ica, but in the whole world, during a certain phase of their religious conscious- ness.

UBIQUITY OF FETISHXSM.

If we once go so far, we need not wonder that fetishes are found everywhere, among ancient and modern, among uncivilized and civilized people. The Palladiiim at Troy, which was supposed to have fallen from the sky, and was believed to make the town impregnable, may be called a fetish, and like a fetish it hiid to be stolen by Odysseus and Diomedes, be- fore Troy could be taken. Pausanias ^ states that in


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IS FETISHISM A PRIMITIVE FORM OF KELIGIOX ? 99

ancient times the images o£ the gods in Greece were rude stones, and he mentions such stones as still existing in hia time, in the second century of our era. At Pharae he tells ns of thiiiy square stones (liermiE?), near the statute of Hermes, which the people worshiped, giving to each the name of a god. The Thespians, who worshiped Eros as the first among gods, had an image of him which was a mere stone. ^ The statue of Heratles, at Hyettos, was of the same character,^ according to the old fashion, as Pausanias himself remarks. In Sicyon he mentions an image of Zeus Meilichios, and another of Artemis Patroa, both made without any art, the former a mere pyramid, the latter a column,^ At Orchomenos again, he describes a temple of the Graces, in which they were worshiped as rude stones, which were believed to have fallen from the sky at the time of Eteokles. Statues of the Graces were placed in the temple during the life-time of Pausanias.*

The same at Rome. Stones which were believed to have fallen from the sky were invoked to grant success in military enterprises.* Mara himself was represented by a spear. Augustus, after losing two naval battles, punished Neptune like a fetish, by ex- cluding his image from the procession of the gods.* Nero was, according to Suetonius, a great despiser of ail religion, though for a time he professed great faith in the Dea Syria. This, however, came to an end, and he then treated her image with the greatest indignity. The fact was that some unknown person had given him a small imnge of a girl, as a protection


5 Plin, A'. II. 37. 9.


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100 IS FETISHISM A PRIMITIVE FORM OF RELIGION ?

against plots, and as be discovered a plot against his life immediately afterwards, he began to worship that image as tlie highest deitj', offering sacrifices to it three times every day, and declaring that it en- abled liim to foresee the future.'

If all this bad happened at Timbuktu, instead of Rome, should we not call it fetishism ?

Liistly, to turn to Christianity, is it not notorious what treatment the images of saints receive at the bands of the lower classes in Roman Catholic coun- tries ? Delhi Valle ^ relates that Portuguese sailora fastened the image of St. Anthony to the bowsprit, and then addressed him k]ieeling, with the following words, " St. Antliony, be pleased to stay there till thou liast given us ii fair wind for our voyage," Fre- zier^ writes of a Spanish eaptiiin who tied a small image of the Viig;in Mary to the mast, declaring that it should hang there till it had granted him a favor- able wind. Kotzebue* declares that the Neapolitans whip tlieir saints, if tbey do not grant their requests. Russian peasants, we are told, cover the face of an image, when they are doing anything unseemlj', nay, they even bon'ow their neighbors' saints, if they have proved themselves particularly successful.^ All this, if seen by a stranger, would be set down as fetishism,-, and yet what a view is opened before our eye, if we ask ourselves how such worship paid to an imago of the Virgin Mary or of a saint became possible in Europe? Why should it be so different among the

1 Ibid., Kero, c. 5fl.

a Vvscne, vii, 109 1 MeiQors, i. p. ISl ; F. Schultze, Fetislikmui, p.


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IS FETISHISM A PRIMITIVE FORM OF EKLIGIOS ? 101

negroes of Africa ? Why should all their fetishes he, as it were, of yesterday ?

To sum up. If we see how all that can be called fetish in religions the history of which is known to us, is secondary, why should fetishes in Africa, where we do not know the earlier development of religion, be considered as primary? If everywhere else there are antecedents of a fetish, if everywhere else fetish- ism is accompanied by more or less developed relig- ious idea, why should we insist on fetishism being the very beginning of all religion in Africa ? Instead of trying to account for fetishism in all other relig- ions by a reference to the fetishism which we find in Africa, would it not be better to try to account for the fetishism in Africa by analogous facts in religions the history of which is known to us ?

NO RELIGION CONSISTS OF FETISHISM ONLY. But if it has never been proved, and perhaps, ac- cording to the nature of the case, can never be proved that fetishism in Africa, or elsewhere, was ever in any sense of the word a primary form of religion, neither has it been shown that fetishism constituted anywhere, whether in Africa or elsewhere, the whole of a people's religion. Though our knowledge of the religion of the negroes is still very imperfect, yet I believe I may say that, wherever there has been an opportunity of ascertaining by long and patient inter- course the religious sentiments even of the lowest savage tribes, no tribe has ever been found without something beyond mere worship of so-called fetishes. A worship of visible material objects is widely spread among Afi'ican tribes, far more widely than anywhere else. The intellectual and sentimental tendencies of - ■

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102 IS FETISHISM A PRIMITIVE FORM OF RF.LIGrOX ?

the negro may preeiiiinently predispose liim to that kind of degraded wovship. All this I gladly admit. But I niaiutiiin that fetishism was a con-iiption of religion, in Africa sis elsewhere, that the iiegi'O is capable of higher religions ideas than the worship of stocks and stones, and that many tribes who believe in fetishes, cherish at the same time very pure, very exalted, very true sentiments of the Deity. Only we must liave eyes to see, eyes that can see what is per- fect without dwelling too much on what is imperfect. The more I study heathen religions, the more I feel convinced that, if we want to form a true judgment of their purpose, we must measure them as we meas- ure the Alps, by the highest point which they have reached. Religion is everywhere an aspiration rather than a fulfillment, and I claim no more for the religion of the negro than for our own, when I say that it should be judged, not by what it appears to be, but by what it is — nay, not only by what it is, but by what it can be, and by what it has been in its most gifted votaries.

HIGHER ELEMENTS IN ArRlCAN RELIGION. "WAITZ.

Whatever can be done under present circum- stances to gain an approximate idea of the I'eal re- ligion of the African negi-oes, has been done by Waitz in his classical work on Anthropology,^ Waitz, the editor of Aristotle's " Oi-ganon," approached hia subject in a truly scholarlike spirit. He was not only impiirtial himself, but he carefully examined the im- partiality of his authorities before he quoted their opinions. His work is well known in England, where many of his facts and opinions have found so charm-

1 Anlhroiniloffii, iL p. 1G7.



IS FETISHISM A rRIMITIVE FORM OF REI.IGIOM ? 103

iiig Jin interpreter in Mr. Tylor. The conclusions at which Waitz arrived with regard to the true charac- ter ol! the religion of the negroes may he atated in hia own words : —

"The religion of the negro is generally considered as a peculiar crude form of polytheism and marked witli the special name of fetishism. A closer inspec- tion of it, however, shows clearly that, apart from certain extravagant and fautastio features which spring from the character of the negro and influence all his doings, his religion, as compared with those ot other uncivilized people, is neither very peculiar nor exceptionally crude. Such a view could only be taken, if we regarded the outward side only of the negro's religion or tried to explain it from gratuitous antecedents. A more profound investigation, such as has lately been successfully carried out by several eminent scholars, leads to the surprising result that several negro tribes, who cannot be shown to have experienced the influence of any more highly civilized nations, have progressed much farther in the elabora- tion of their religious ideas than almost all other un- civilized races ; so far indeed that, if we do not like to call them monotheists, we may at least say of them, that they have come very near to the boundaries of true monotheism, although their religion is mixed up with a large quantity of coarse supei-stitions, which with some otlier people seem almost to choke all pure religious ideas."

Waitz himself considers Wilson's book on West Africa, its History, Condition, and Prospects (1856), as one of the best, but he has collected his materials likewise from many other sources, and particularly from the accounts of missionaries. Wilson was the


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104 IS FETismsji A PRDiiTivK FORI! Or ei;licion ?

first to point out tliiit what we have chosen to call fetishism is something very distinct from the real rehgion of the negro. There is ample evidence to show that the same tribes, who are represented as fetish- worshipers, beheve either in gods or in a su- preme good God, the creator of the world, and that they possess in tlieir dialects particular names for him.

Sometimes it is said that no visible worship is paid to that Supreme Being, but to fetishes only. This, however, may arise from different causes. It may arise from an excess of reverence, quite as much as from negligence. Thus the Odjis ^ or Ashantis call the Supreme Being by the same name as the sky, but tliey mean by it a personal God, who, as they say, created all things, and is the giver of all good things. But though he is omnipresent and omnis- cient, knowing even the thouglits oE men, and pity- ing them in their distress, the government of the world is, as they believe, deputed by him to inferior spirits, and among these again it is the malevolent spirits only who require worship and sacrifice from man.^

Cniickshank ^ calls attention to the same feature in tlie character of the negroes on the Gold Coast. He thinks that their belief in a supreme God, who has made the world and governs it, is very old, but he adds that they invoke liim very rarely, calling him "their great friend," or " He who has made us." Only when in great distress they call out, " We are in the hands of God ; he will do what seenn^tli right to


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IS FETISHISM A PRIMITIVE FOEM OF BEUGION ? 105

hira." This view is confirmed by the Basle mission- aries,^ wlio cannot certainly be suspected of partial- ity. Tliey also affirm that their belief in a su- preme God is by no means without influence on the negroes. Often, when in deep distress, they say to themselves, " God is the old one, he is the greatest ; he sees me, I am in his hand." The same missionary adds, "If, besides this faith, they also believe in thou- sands of fetishes, this, unfortunately, they share in common with many Christians."

The Odjis or Asbantis,^ while retaining a clear conception of God as the high or the highest, the creator, the giver of sunshine, rain, and all good gifts, the omniscient, hold that lie does not condescend to govern the world, but that he has placed created spirits as lords over hilis and vales, forests and fields, rivers and the sea. These are conceived as like unto men, and are occasionally seen, particularly by the priests. Most of them are good, but some are evil spirits, and it seems that in one respect at least these negroes rival the Europeans, admitting the existence of a supreme evil spirit, the enemy of men, who dwells apart in a world beyond.^

Some of the African names given to the Supreme Being meant originally sun, sky, giver of rain ; others mean Lord of Iloaven, Lord and King of Heaven, the invisible creator. As such he is invoked by the Yebus,* who in praying to him turn their faces to the ground. One of their prayers was — "God in Heaven, guard us from sickness and death ; God, grant us happiness and wisdom."

1 B/tifhr Missiota-Masaim, 18S5, i.p. 88; Waitz, ii. p. 1T3.


  • Ibid.ii. p. 163;D'A


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106 IS FETISHISM A PlilJlITlVE FOGM OF RELIGION?

The Ediyahs of Fenmncio Po ' call the Supreme Being Rupi, but admit many lesser gods as metliators between liim and man. Tlie Dnalkhs,^ oi! the Cam- eruna, have the same name for the Gri^at Si'irit ;uid the smi.

The Yorubas believe in a Lord of Heiiveii, whom they call Olorun? Tliey believe iu other gods also, and tliey speak of a place called Ife, in the district of Kiikauda (5° E. long. Gr. 8° N. lat.) as the seat of the gods, a kind of Olympus, from whence sun and moon always return after having been burit'd in the earth, and froiii whence men also are believed to have sprung.*

Among the people of Akra, we are told by Riimer * that a kind of worship was paid to the rising sun. Zimmerman^ denies that any kind of woi-sliip is paid there to casual objects (commonly called fetishes), and we know from tlie reports of missionaries that their name for the highest god is Jongmaa,^ which signifies both rain and god. This JongniiVi is ])roba- bly the same as Nyongmo, the name for God on the Gold Coast. There too it means the sky, which is everywhere, and lias been from everlasting. A ne- gro, wiio was himself a fetish pi-iest, said, " Do we not see daily how the grass, the corn, and the ti-ees grow by the rain and the sunshine which he sends !

1 Woitz, ii. p. IGS.

2 Allen and Thomson, Narralke of lh(, Expedition tci the River Nigfr in 1841, ii. pp. WD, 395, nola.

8 Tucker, p. lOa, note.

  • Tncker, Abbnokata, or an OutlhK of tie Origin and Progress of the

Yoruba Miiaioa, 18S6, p. 24B.

  • Rmner, JVnd^rKeB ron der Kasle Guinea, 1760, p. 84.

Zimmerman, Grnmmrifiml Shitsh of tlis Akra or Ga Laagaage, Vocnbulnrs, p. 357.

1 Baseler MieswRs-lIana^in. 13.37, p. S59.


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IS FETISHISM A PRIMITIVE FORM OF EELIGIOU ? 107

How should lie not be the creator ? " The clouds are said to be his veil ; the stars, the jewels on his face. His children are the Wong, the spirits which fill the air and execute bis commands on earth.

These Wongs, which have likewise been mistaken for fetishes, constitute a very important element in many ancient religions, not only in Africa ; they step in everywhere where the distance between the human and the divine has become too wide, and where some- thing intermediate, or certain mediators, are wanted to fill the gap which man has created himself. A similar idea is expressed by Celsus when defending the worship of the genii. Addressing himself to the Christians, who declined to worship the old genii, he says, " God can suffer no wrong. God can lose noth- ing. The inferior spirits are not his rivals, that He can resent the respect which we pay to them. In them we woi^hip only some attributes of Him from whom they hold authority, and in saying that One only is Lord, you disobey and rebel against Him." '

On the Gold Coast ^ it is believed that these Wongs dwell between heaven and earth, that they have children, die, and rise again. Tliere is a Wong for the sea and all that is therein ; there are other Wongs for rivers, lakes, and springs ; there are others for pieces of land which have been inclosed, others for the sm;dt heaps of earth thrown up to cover a sacrifice ; others, again, for certain trees, for certain animals, such as crocodiles, apes, and serpents, while other animals are only considered as sacred to the Wongs. There are Wongs for the sacred images carved by the fctialiman, lastly for anything made


, in Frnser'i .l/njorine, 1878, p. 160. ii. p. 183.


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108 IS FETISHISM A TEIMITIVE KOBJI OF RELIGION ?

of liair, bones, and tliread, and offered for sale as talismans.' Here we see clearly the difference be- tween Wongs and fetishes, the fetish being the out- ward sign, the Wong the indwelling spirit, though, no doubt, here too the spiritual might soon have dwindled down into a real presence.^

In Akwapim the word which means both God and weather is Jimkkupong. In Bonnj', also, and in Eastern Africa among the Makuas, one and the same word is used to signify God, heaven, and cloud.^ In Dahomey the sun is said to be supreme, but receives no kind of worship.* The Ibos believe in a maker of the world whom they call Tshuku. He lias two eyes and two ears, one iu the sky and one on the earth. He is invisible, and he never sleeps. He hears all that is said, but he can reach those only who draw near unto him.^

Can anything be more simple and more true ? He can reach those only who draw near unto him I Could we say more ?

Good people, it is believed, will see him after death, bad people go into fire. Do not some of us say the same ?

That some of the negroes are aware o£ the degrad- ing character of fetish -worship is shown by the peo- ple of Akra declaring the monkeys only to be fetish- worshipers.

I cannot vouch for the accuracy of every one of

1 Balder ifisahms-Mngniia, 1850, li. 131.

« WsilE, ii. pp. 171, 175.

3 Killer, EfB."jre Notiztn iSier Bonny, 1843, p. 6J ; Waitz, ii. p. 169.

' Suit, Vogngt In Abi/iilnin, 18U, p. 41.

5 SfhSn and rmwlhpr, Journal of an ExpKdUioii up the Niger, in I8i2,


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IS FETISIIISJI A rRIlIITIVE FORM OF EELIGIOX ? 109

these statements for reasons which I have fuUy ex- pliiiiied. I iiccept them on the authority of a scholar who waa accustomed to the collation of various read- ings in ancient MSS,, Professor Waitz. Taken to- gether, they certainly give a very different impres- sion of the negroes from that which is commonly received. They show at all events that, so far from being a uniform fetishism, the religion of the negro is many-sided in the extreme. There is fetish-wor- ship ill it, perhaps more than among other nations, but what becomes of the assertion that the religion of the negro consists in fetishism and in fetishism only, and that the negro never advanced beyond this, the lowest stage of religion ? We liave seen that there are in the religion of the Africans very clear traces of a worship of spirits residing in different parts of nature, and of a feeling after a supreme spirit, hidden and revealed by the sun or the sky. It is generally, if not always, the sun or the sky which forms the bridge from the visible to the invisi- ble, from nature to nature's God. But besides the sun, the moon ^ also was worshiped by the negroes, as the luhir of montlis and seasons, and the ordainer of time and life. Sacrifices were offered under trees, soon also to trees, particularly to old trees which for generations had witnessed the joys and troubles of a family or a tribe.

ZOOLATRY. Besides all this which may be comprehended under the general name of physiolatry, there are clear indi- cations also of zoolatry.^ It is one of the most diffi- cult problems to discover the motive which led the 1 WaiU, ii. p. 175. 2 Ibid. ii. p. 17T,

. I Ly


no IS FETISHISM A rKIJUTlVK iOIiM l)F EELKUOS V

negro to worship certain animais. The mistake which is rriiicle by most writers on early religions is, that they imagine there can be but one motive for each custom that has to be explained. Generally, however, there are many. Sometimes the souls of the departed are believed to dwell in certain animals. In some places animals, particularly wolves, are made to de- vour the dead bodies, and they may in consequence be considered sacred.' Monkeys are looked upon as men, slightly damaged at the creation, sometimes also as men thus punished for their sina. Tiiey are in some places believed to be able to speak, but to sham dumbness in order to escape labor. Hence, it may be, 11 reluctance arose to kill them, like other animals, and from this there would be but a small step to ascribing to them a certain sacro- sanctity. Elephants, we know, inspire similar feelings by the extraordinary development of their understanding. People do not like to kill tliem, or if they have to do it, tliey ask pardon from the animal which they have killed. In Dahomey where tlie elephant is a natural fetish, mau\ puiificatory ceremonies have to be performed when in eli phtnt has been slain.^

In somi pUces it is considered lucky to be killed by ceitiui luini lis is for instance by leopards in Dahomey

There are many reasons why snakes might be looked upon with a certain kind of awe, and even kept and worshiped. Poisonous snakes are dreaded, and may therefore be worshiped, particularly after they had been (perhaps secretly) deprived of their

1 Waltz, ii. p. 177. Ilaslmann, Zur Ge^chichtc ilea Xoi-dlscken Stjstemt der drei CaliHrptrloden. Braiinschwais,', 1876, p. U, noce.


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IS FETISHISM A PRIMITIVE FORI! OF RELIGION ? Ill

fangs. Other snakes are useful as domestic auimals, as weather prophets, and may therefore have been fed, valued, and, after a time, worshiped, taking that word in that low sense which it often has, and must have among uncivilized people. The idea that the ghosts of the departed dwell for a time in certain ani- mals is very widely prevalent; and considering the habits of certain snakes, hiding in deserted and even in inhabited houses, and suddenly appearing, peering at the inhabitants with their wondering eyes, we may well understand the superstitions awe with which they were treated. Again, we know that many tribes assumed in modem and ancient times the name of Snakes (NSgas), whether in order to assert their aiitoelithonic right to the country in which they lived, or because, as Diodovus supposes, the snake had been used as their banner, their rallying sign, or, as we should say, their totem or crest. As the same Diodorus points out, people may have chosen the snake for their banner, either because it was their deity, or it may have become their deity because it ■was their banner. At all events, nothing would be more natural than that people wlio, for some reason or other, called themselves Snakes, should in time adopt a snake for their ancestor, and finally for their god. In India the snakes assume, at an early time, a very prominent part in epic and popular traditions. They soon became what fairies or bogies are in our nursery tales, and they thns appear in company with Gandharvas, Apsavas, Kinnaras, etc., in some of the most ancient architectural ornamentations of India.

Totally different from these Indian snakes is the snake of the Zendavesta, and the snake of Genesis, and the dragons of Greek and Teutonic mythology.

I -dty


112 IS FETISHISM A PRIMITIVE FOEJI OF EELIGIOX ?

There is, lastly, the snake as a symbol of eteniity, either on account «£ its leaving its skin, ov because it rolls itself up into a complete circle. Every one of tliese creatures of fancy has a biography of liis own, and to mix tlieni all up together would be like writ- ing one biography of all the people who were called Alexander.

Africa is full of animal fables, in the style of ^sop's fables, though they are not found among all tribes; and it is often related that, in former times, men and animals could converse together. In Bornu it is said that one man betrayed the secret of tlie language of animals to his wife, and that thenceforth the intercourse ceased.^ Man alone is never, we jvre told, worshiped in Afiica as a divine being; and if in some places powerful chiefs receive honors that ujnke us shudder, we must not forget that during the most brilliant days of Rome divine honors were paid to Augustus and his successors. Men who are de- formed, dwarfs, albinos, and others, are fi'eqnently looked upon as something strange and uncanny, rather than what we should call sacred.

PsrCHOLATKY. Lastly, great reverence is paid to the spirits of the departed,^ The bones of dead people also are fre- quently preserved and treated with religions respect. The Ashantis have a word kla,^ which means the life of man. I£ used as a masculine, it stands for the voice that tempts man to evil. If used in the femi- nine, it is the voice that persuades us to keep aloof from evil. Lastly, Ma is the tutelary genius of a


LiUi-atare, 1-15. « Wiiilz, ii, p. tSl.

ti-Magaiin, ISjG, il. 134, Vi\l ; IVaitz, ii. ji, 133.


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IS FETISHISM A PRIMITIVE FORM OF RELIGION? 113

person vfha can be brought near by witcihcraft, and expects sacrifices for the protection which lie grants. When a man dies, his Jcla becomes sisa, and a sisa may be bom again,

MANT-SmEDNESS OF AFKICAN RELIGION.

Now I ask, Is so many-sided a religion to be chissyd simply as African fetish-worsliip ? Do we not find almost every ingredient of other religions in the little ■which we know at present of tlie faith and worship of the negro ? Is there the slightest evidence to show thiit there ever was a time when these negroes wei'e fetish- worshipers only, and nothing else? Does not all our evidence point rather in the opposite direc- tion, viz., that fetishism was a parasitical development, intelligible with certain antecedents, but never as an original impulse of the human heart ?

What is, from a psychological point of view, the teally difficult problem is, how to reconcile the ra- tional and even exalted religious opinions, traces of which we discovered among many of the negro tribes, with the coarse forms of fetish- worship- We nuist remember, however, that every religion is a com- promise between the wise and the foolish, the okl and the yonng, and that the higher the human mind soars in its seai-ch after divine ideals, the more inev- itable the symbolical representations, which are re- quired for children and for the majority of people, in- capable of realizing sublime and subtle abstractions.

Much, no doubt, may be said in explanation, even in excuse of fetishism, under all its forms and dis- guises. It often assists our weakness, it often re- minds us of our duties, it often miiy lead our thoughts from material objects to spiritual visions, it often


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114 IS FKTisHisJi A rnnnTivE fokm of keligios?

comforts us when notliing else will give ns peace. It is often siiiLl to be so harmless, that it is difficult to see why it should have been so fiercely reprobated by some of the wisest teachers of mankind. It may have seemed strange to many of us, tliiit among the ten Commandments which were to set forth, in the sliortest possible form, the highest, the most essential duties of man, the second place should be as- signed to a prohibition of any kind of images, " TIiou shalt not make to thyself any graven image, nor the likeness of anything that is in heaven above, or in the earth beneath, or in the waters under the earth : thou shalt not bow down to them, nor worship them." Let those who wish to understand the hidden wis- dom of these words study the histoi-y of ancient re- ligions. Let them read the descriptions of religious festivals in Africa, in America, and Australia; let them witness, also, the pomp and display in some of our own Christian churches and cathedi'als. No arguments can prove that there is anything very wrong in ali these outward signs and symbols. To many people, we know, they are even a help and comfort. But history is sometimes a stronger and sterner teacher tlian argument, and one of the lessons which the history of religions certainly teaches is this, that the curse pronounced against those who would change the invisible into the visible, the spir- itual into the mateiial, the divine into the human, the infinite into the finite, has come true in every nation on earth. We may consider oureelves safe against the fetish- worship of the poor negro ; but there are few of us, if any, who have not their own fetishes, or their own idols, whether in their churches, or in their hearts.


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IS FETISHISM A PRIMITIVE FORM OF EELIGIOS ? 115

The results at which we have arrived, after exam- ining the iiunierous worlcs on fetishism from the days of De Brossea to our own time, may be smiimed up under four heads : —

1. Tlie meaning o£ the word fetish (Jeitigo) has remained undefined from its first introduction, and has by most writers been so much extended that it may inchide almost every symbolical or imitative representation of religious objects.

2. Among people who have a history, we fincl that everything which fiills under the category of fetish points to historical and psychological antecedents. We are, therefore, not justified in supposing that it haa been otherwise among people whose religious development happens to be unknown and inaccessi- ble to us.

3. There is no religion which has kept itself en- tirely free from fetishism.

4. There is no religion which consists entirely of fetishism,

SUPPOSED PSYCHOLOGICAL NECESSITY OP FETISH- ISM.

Thus T' thought I bad sufficiently determined the position which I hold with regard to the theory of a universal primeval fetishism., or, at all events, to have made it clear that the facts of fetish- worship, as hith- erto known to us, can in no wise solve the question of the natural origin of religion.

The objection has, however, been raised by those who cling to fetisiiism, or at least to the Comtian theoi-y of fetishism, that these are after all facts only, and tliat a complete and far more formidable theory has to be encountered before it could be admitted


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116 IS FETISHISM A riilJUTIVE FORM OF EELIOION ?

that the first impulse to religion proceeded from an ineipient perception of the infinite pressing upon us through the great phenomena of nature, and not from sentiments of surprise or fear called forth by such finite things as shells, stones, or bones, — that is to say, by fetishes.

We are told that whatever the /acO maybe wliich, after all, by mere accident, are stil! within our reach, as bearing witness to the earliest phases of religious thought, there must have been a time, whether in his- toric or prehistoric periods, whether during the for- mation of quaternary or tertiary strata, when miin worshiped stocks and stones, and nothing else.

I am far from saying that under certain circum- stances mere argumentative reasoning may not be as powerful as historical evidence ; stiil I thought I had done enough by showing how the very tribes who were represented to us as living instances of fetisli- worship possessed religious ideas of a simplicity and, sometimes, of a sublimity such as we look for in vain even in Homer and Hesiod. Facts had been collected to support a theory, nay had confessedly given the first impulse to a theory, and that theory is to re- main, although the facts have vanished, or have at all events assumed a very different aspect. How- ever, as it is dangerous to leave any fortress in our rear, it may be expedient to reply to this view of fetishism also, thongh in as few words as possible.

It may be taken for granted that those who hold the theory that religion must everywhere have taken its origin from fetishism, take fetish in the sense of casn.'il objects which, for some reiison or other, or it may be for no reason at all, were considered as endowed with exceptional powers, and gradually


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IS FETISHISM A PRIMITIVE FORM OF RELIGION? 117

raised to the dignity of spirits or gods. They could not hold the other view, that a fetish was, from the beginning, an emblem or symbol only, an outward sign or token of some power previously known, which power, originally distinct from the fetish, was afterwards believed to reside in it, and in course of time came to be identified with it. For in that case the real problem for those who study the growth of the human mind would be the origin and growth of that power, previously known, and afterwards sup- posed to reside in a fetish. The real beginning of religious life would be there ; the fetish would repre- sent fi secondary stage only. Nor is it enough to say (with Professor Zeller i) that " fancy or imagination personifies tilings without life and without reason as gods." The real question is, Whence that imagina- tion ? and whence, before all things, that unprovoked iind unjustifiable predicate of God ?

The theory, therefore, of fetishism with which alone we have still to deal is this, that a worship of casual objects is and must be the first inevitable step in the development of religious ideas. Religion not only does begin, but must begin, we are told, with a con- templation of stones, shells, bones, and such like things, and from that stage only can it rise to the con- ception of something else — of powers, spirits, goda, or whatever else we like to call it.

WHEHCB THE SUPERNATURAL PREDICATE OF A FETISH?

Let US look this tlieory in the face. When travel- ers, ethnologists, and philosophers tell us that savage tribes look upon stones and bones and trees as their

1 Vvrlrii^e nnd Ahhandhmgen, Zweile Samnilung, 1877, p. 82.

iiosBdb,


118 IS rKTiseisM a primitive foi;m of religion ?

gods, what ia it that startles us? Not surely the stones, bones, or trees ; not the subjects, but that whiuh is predicated of these subjects, viz., God. Stones, bones, and trees are ready at hand everywhere ; but what the student of the growth of the human mind wishes to know is. Whence their liigher prediciites ; or, let lis say at once, whence their predicate God ? Here lies the whole problem. If a little child were to bring us his cat and Siiy it was a vertebrate animal, the first thing tliat wonld strike us would surely be. How did the cliild ever hear of such a name as a ver- tebrate animal ? If the fetish-worshiper brings us a stone and says it is a god, our question is the same. Where did you ever hear of God, and what do you mean by such a name ? It is curious to observe how little that difficulty seems to have been felt by writers on ancient religion.

Let us apply this to the ordinary theory of fetish- ism, and we shall see that the problem is really this : Can spirits or gods spring from stones ? Or, to put it more clearly, Can we understiind how there should be a transition from the percept of a stone to the con- cept of a spirit or a god ?

ACCIDBXTAL ORIGIN OP FETISHISM. We are told that nothing is easier than this tran- sition. But how ? We are asked* to imagine a state of mind wlien man, as yet withont any ideas beyond those supplied to him by his five senses, suddenly sees a glittering stone or a bright shell, picks it up as strange, keeps it as dear to himself, and then per- suades himself that this stone is not a stone like other stones, that this shell is not a shuU like other sheila,


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IS FETISHISM A FRIMITIVK FORM OF RELIGION ? 119

but that it is endowed with extraordinary powers, which no other stone or shell ever possessed before. We are asked to suppose that possibly the atone was picked up in the morning, that the man who picked it up was engaged in a serious fight duiing the day, that he came out of it victorious, and that he very natui-ally ascribed to the sfcone the secret of his suc- cess. He would afterwards, so we are told, have kept that stone for luck ; it might very likely have proved lucky more than once ; in fact, those stones only which proved lucky more than once would have had a chance of surviving as fetishes. It would then have beun believed to possess some supernatural power, to be not a mere stone but something else, a powerful spirit, entitled to every honor and wor- ship which the lucky possessor could bestow on it or on him.

This whole process, we are assured, is perfectly rational in its very irrationality. Nor do I deny it ; I only doubt whether it exhibits the irrationality of an uncultured mind. la not the whole process of rea- soning, as hei'e described, far more in accordance with modern tlian with ancient and primitive thoughta ? Nay, I ask, can we conceive it aa possible except when men were already far advanced in their search after the infinite, and in full possession of those very con- cepts, the origin of which we want to have explained to us ?

ABB SAVAGES LIKE CHILDERN ?

It was formerly supposed that the psychological problem involved in fetishism could be explained by a mere reference to children playing with their dolls, or iiitting the chair against which they had hit them- selves. This explanation, however, has long been


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120 IS FETISHISM A PRIMITIVK FORM OF RELICION ?

surrendered, for, even supposing that fetisliism con- fiisted only in ascribing to material objects life, activ- ity, or personality, call it fignrism, animism, personi- fication, antliroponiorphism or anthropopaliiisni, the mere fact tlint children do the same as grown-up savages cannot possibly help us to solve the psycho- logical problem. The fact, suppose it is a fact, would be aa mysterious with children as with savages. Be- sides, though thei'e is some truth in calling savages children, or children savages, we must here, too, learn to distinguish. Savages are children in some respects, but not in all. There is no savage who, on growing up, does not learn to distinguish between animate and inanimate objects, between a rope, for instance, and a serpent. To say that they remain childish on such a point is only to cheat ourselves with our own meta- phors. On the other side, children, such aa they now are, can help us bnt rarely to gain an idea of what primitive savages may have been. Oar children, from the first awakening of their mental life, are sur- rounded by an atmosphere saturated with. the thoughts of an advanced civilization. A child, not taken in by a well-dressed doll, or ao perfectly able to control himself as not to kick against a chair against which he had hit his head, would be a little philosopher rather than a savage not yet emerging from fetishism. The circumstances or the surroundings are so totally different in the case of the savage and the child, that comparisons between ttie two must be carried out with the greatest care before they can claim any real scientific valne.

I agree so far with the believers in primitive fetish- ism that if we are to explain religion as a universal property of mankind, we must esplain It out of con-


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IS FimSmSM A PKlMITiVE FORM OF RELIGION? 121

ditions which are tinivereally presenb. Nor do I blame them if they decline to discuss the problem of the origin of religion with those who assume a prim- itive revelution, or a religions faculty which distin- guishes man from the animal. Let us start, by all means, from common gronnd and from safe ground. Let us take man such as he is, possessing his five senses, and as yet without any knowledge except what is supplied to him by his five senses. No doubt that man can pick up a stone, or a bone, or a shell. But then we must ask the upliolders of the primitive fetish theory, How do these people, when they liave picked up their stone or their shell, pick up at the same time the concepts of a supernatural power, of spirit, of god, and of worship paid to some unseen being ?

THE FOUR STEPS,

We are told that there are four steps — the famous four steps — by which all this is achieved, and the origin of fetishism rendered perfectly intelligible. First, there is a sense of surprise ; secondly, an an- thropopathie conception of the object which causes surprise ; thirdly, the admission of a causal connect tion between that object and certain effects, such as victory, rain, health ; fourthly, a recognition of the object as a power deserving of resppcfc and worship. But is not this rather to hide the difficulties beneath a golden shower of words than to explain them ?

Granted that a man may be surprised at a stone or a shell, though they would seem to be the very last things to be surprised at ; but what is the mean- ing of taking an anthropopathic view of a stone or a shell ? If we translate it into plain English it means neither more nor less than that, instead of taking a




122 IS FETISHISM A PEIMITIVE FORM OF Cl.LIGIUS

stone to be a stone like all other stones, we suppose that a particular stoiif is not an ordinary stcme, but endowed with the fueliiigs of a man. Niiturai as this may sound, when clothed in technical language, when we use long names, such as aiithropopathisin, an- thropomorphism, personifieution, figurism, nothing would really seem to do greater violence to eouimon sense, or to our five senses, than to say that a stone is a stone, yet not quite a stone ; and again, that the stone is a man, yet not quite a man. I am fully aware that, after a long series of intermediate steps, such contradictions arise iu the liuman mind, but they cannot spring up suddenly ; they are not there from the beginning, unless we admit disturbing influences much more extraordinary than a primeval revelation. It is the object of the science of religion to find out by what small and timid steps the human mind ad- vanced from what is intelligible to what at first sight IS almost beyond our comprehension. If we take for granted the very tiling that has to be explained ; if we once adn^it that it was perfectly natural for the primitive savage to look upon a stone as something human ; if we are satisfied with such words as an- thropopathism, or animism, or figurism, — then all the rest no doubt is easy enough. The human stone has every right to be called superhuman, and that is not very far from divine ; nor need we wonder that the worship paid to such an object should be more than what is paid to either a stone or to a man — that it too should be superhuman, which is not very far from divine.


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IS FETISHISM A PBIMHIVE FORM OF REMGIOH ? 123


FETISHISM NOT A PKniAEY FOEM OF RELIGION.

My position then is simply this : It seems to me that those who believe in a primordial fetishism have taken that for granted which has to be proved. They have taken for granted that every human being was miraculously endowed with the concept of what forms the predicate of every fetish, call it power, spirit, or god. They have taken for granted that casnal objects, such as stones, shells, the tail of a lion, a tangle of hair, or any such rubbish, possess in them- selves a theogonic or god-prodncing character, while the fact that all people, when they have once risen to the suspicion of something superaensuous, infinite, or divine, have perceived its presence afterwards in merely casual and insignificant objects, has been en- tirely overlooked. They have taken for granted that there exists at present, or that there existed at any time, a religion entirely made up of fetishism ; or that, on the other hand, there is any religion which has kept iteelf entirely free from fetishism. My last and most serious objection, however, is that those who believe in fetishism as a primitive and universal form of religion, have often depended on evidence which no scholar, no histouan, would feel justified to accept. We are justified, therefore, I think, in sur- rendering the theory ^ that fetishism either has or must have been the beginnmg of all religion, and we are bound to look elsewhere, if we wish to discover what were the sensuous imprcisions that fiist filkd the human mind with a suspicion of the sup<isensu- ous, the infinite, and the divme

1 I am glsil '0 fi"il It'"' '>»" ^' Happel m h t work Die 4n!agt dei Menschen zur BeHaioa, 1878, and Professor I'Ae dsrpr in hiH Reltji


tophie, joat pullislied, take nenrlj the tamB view of the FeU=h theory ^

t


III.

THE ANCIENT LITERATURE OF INDIA

SO FAR AS IT SUPPLIES MATERIALS

FOR THE STUDY OF THE ORIGIN

OF RELIGION.


USEFULNESS OF THE STUDY OF LITERARY RELIG- IONS,

Instead of trying to study the origin of religion in the tertiary or quarternary strata of Africa, Amer- ica, and Australia, it seems far wiser to look first to countries where we find, not only the latest for- mivtions, the mere surface and detritus of religious growth, but where we can see and study some at least of the lower strata on which the superficial soil of religion reposes.

I know very well that this study also has its diffi- culties, quite as much as the study of the religion of savage races, but the soil on which we have here to labor is deeper, and promises a richer harvest.

It is quite true that the historical documents of a religion never carry us very far. They fail us often just where they would be most instructive, near the first springs of the old stream. This is inevitable. No religion is of importance to the aurronnding world in its first beginnings. It is hardly noticed, so long as it is confined to the heart of one man and his twelve


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THE ANCIENT LITEKATURE OF INDIA. 125

disciples. This applies to national religions still more than to what I call personal religions, the latter founded by known individuals, the former elaborated by the united efforts of a whole people. For many generations a national religion has no tangible form as a body of doctrine or ceremonies : it hiia hardly a name. We only know a religion, after it has assumed consistency and importance, and when it has become the interest of certain individuals or of a whole class, to collect and to preserve for posterity whatever is known of its origin and first spreading. It is not by accident, therefore, but by a law of human nature, that the accounts which we possess of the origin of religions, are almost always fabulous, never historical in the strict sense of the word.

GROWTH OF EELIGIOUS mEAS IN JUDAISM, ZORO- ASTEIASISM, ETC.

But though we can nowhere watch the first vita! movements of a nascent religion, we can in some countries observe the successive growth of religious ideas. Among the savages of Africa, America, and Australia this is impossible. It is difficult enough to know what their religion is at present ; what it was in its origin, what it was even a thousand years ago, is entirely beyond our reach.

Many of the so-called book-religions also offer the same, or at least similar, difficulties. There are traces of growth and decay in the religion of the Jews, but they have to be discovered by patient study. The object, however, of most of the writers on the 0. T, seems to be to hide these traces rather than to display them. Tliey wish to place the religion of the Jews before us as ready-made from the beginning, as per^


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126 THE AKCIEKT LITEBATUKE OF IHDU.

feet in all its parts, because revealed by God, and, if liable to corruption, at all events iiienpable of im- provement. But that the Jawish monotheism was pre- ceded by a polytheism " on the other side of the flood and in Egypt," is now admitted by most scholars, nor would it be easy to find in the same sacred code two more opposite sentiments than the rules and regula- tions for burnt-offeriiigs in Leviticus, iind the words of the Psalmist (li. 16): "For tliou delighteat not in sacrifice, else wonld I give it thee : thoii delightest not in bnnit-ofierings. The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit : a broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise."

There is gi'owth here, as evident as can be, how- ever diffieidt it may seem to some students of religion to i-econcile the idea of gi-owth with the character of a revealed religion.

What applies to the religion of Moses, applies to that i>f Zoroaster. It ia placed before us as a com- plete system from the first, revealed by Aburamazda, proclaimed by Zarathostra. Minute scholai-ship only lias been able to discover some older elements in the GMiis, but, with that exception, we find in the Avesta, too, but few acknowledged traces of real growth.

With reg;ird, again, to the religion and mythology of Greece and Italy, it would be extremely diflBcult to distinguish tbeir infancy, their youth, and their maidiood. We know that certain ideas, which we find in later writers, do not occur in Homer ; but it does not follow at all that therefore sneli ideas are all of later growth, or possess a secondary character. One myth may have belonged to one tribe, one god mav have bad his chief worship in one locality, and


A-ooi^lc


Tilt; A^■clE^'T literaturc of ikdia. 127

our becoming acquainted witli these tLrougK a later poet does not in the least prove their later origin. Besides, there is this great disadvantage in the study of the religion of the Greeks and Romans, that we do not possess anything really deserving the name of a sacred book,

GROWTH OF RELIGION IN INDIA.

No country can be compared to India as offering opportunities for a real study of the genesis and growth of religion. I say intentionally for the growth, not for the history of religion : for history, in the or- dinary sense of the word, is almost unknown in In- dian literature. But what we can watch and study in India better than anywhere else is, how religious thoughts and religious language arise, how they gain force, how they spread, changing their forms as they pass from mouth to mouth, from mind to mind, yet always retaining some faint contiguity with the spring from which they rose at fii-st.

I do not think, therefore, that I am exaggerating when T say that the sacred books of India offer for a study of religion in general, and particularly for the study of the origin and growth of religion, the same peculiar and unexpected advantages whicli the lan- guage of India, Sanskrit, has offered for the study of the origin and groivth of human speecli. It is for that reason that I have selected the ancient religion of India to supply the historical illustrations of my own theory of the origin and growth of religion. Tliat theory was suggested to me during a life-long study of the sacred books of India ; it rests, therefore, on facts, though I am responsible for their interpreta- tion.


yGoQl^lC


THE AXCIENT LITERATURE OF INDIA.


THE EIGHT POSITION OP THE ViSDA IN THE SCIENCE OP KELIGION.

Far be it from me to say that the origin and growth of religion must everywhere have been exactly the same as in India. Let us liere, too, take a warning from the science of language. It is no longer denied that for throwing light on some of the darkest prob- lems that have to be solved by the student of lan- guage, nothing is so useful as a critical study of San- skrit. I go farther, even, and maintain that, in order to comprehend fully the ways and means adopted by other languages, nothing is more advantageous than to be able to contrast them witli the proceedings of Sanskrit. Bnt to look for Sanskrit, as Bopp has done, in M;ilay, Polynesian, and Caucasian dialects, or to imagine that the grammatical expedients adopted by the Aryan languages are the only possible expedients for realizing the objects of human speech, would be a fatal mistake ; and we must guard, from the very first, against a similar danger in a scientific study of the religions of mankind. When we have learnt how the ancient inhabitants of India gained their religious ideas, how they elaborated them, changed them, cor- rupted them, we may be allowed to say that possibly other people also may have started from the same be- ginnings, and may have passed through the same vi- cissitudes. But we shall never go beyond, or repeat the mistake of those who, because they found, or imagined they found fetish- worship among the least cultivated races of Africa, America, and Australia, concluded that every uncultivated race must have started from fetishism in its religious career.

What, then, are the documents in which wo can


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THE ANCIENT LITERATUEE OF IXDIA. 129

study the origin and growth of religion among the early Aryan settlers of India ?

DISCOVERY OF SANSKEIT LITERATUKB. The discovery of the ancient literature of India must sound to most people like a fairy-tale rather than like a chapter of history, nor do I wonder that there is, or that there has heen at least for a long time, a certain incredulity, with regard to the gen- nineness of that literature. The number of separate works in Sanskrit, of which manuscripts are still in existence, is now estimated to amoiuifc to about 10,000.^ What would Plato and Aristotle have said, if they had been told that at their time there existed in India, in that India which Alexander had just dis- covered, if not conquered, an ancient literature far richer than anything they possessed at that time in Greece ?

BUDDHISM THE FRONTIER BETWEEN ANCIENT AND MODEEN LITERATURE IN INDIA. At that time the whole drama of the really ancient literature of the Brahmans had been acted. The old language had changed, the old religion, after passing through many phases, had been superseded by a new faith : for however skeptical or conscientious we may 'be before admitting or rejecting the claims of the Brahmans in favor of an enormous antiquity of their


brary about Ihe tame number. The library of Ihe Mnharaja of Tanjora 1 eslimated at upwards of 18,000, in eleven distinct alphabEts ; the library f the Sanskrit Cullege at Benares, at 2,000 ; the librorv of the Asiatic ■ociety of lienga! at Calcutta at 3,700; that o£ the Sanskrit College a; Citl-


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130 THE AKCIENT LITERATURE OF ISDIA.

sacred literature, so much is certain and beyond the reach of reasonalile doubt/ that Sandrocottiis, who

1 In my HiiloTy nf Ancient SamL-rit Liltratare, published in ]8jD (p. 274), 1 Imd ifivA to lay duvu some general principles on \iMrb I thi>Li(>tit tlie dales of Qnek b'i'Ua\- niiglit tn a certain extent he renmcileii M-ith Eoiiie nf the Irailitionnt ilntex of the Noilheni sod Southera BiuMlit-t3. 1'1i<^ conclurinnB al Kliich I tlien nrrived were that Sandrocotlus or A'andrajtupta Ix'cMiiii' laii<r in 315 R. c, that lie rei(^ied 21 Team, and was nuceecded bv liinilLi-=;\v;i ill 2!ll u. c. ; that Biiidusfli'a reigned (25 or) 28 years, and was fiiiCL','iloil hy Ajoka in (SfiS or) 2(13 B. c. ; and that Ajoka var. fonnaJly fii;iin;upiUo.l in (263 or) 259 it. c, reipned 87 years, and died in (215 or) 212 [;. c. The Krcat (Touneil took place in the 17(11 year of hia reign, t here- foiviiilitr(24aor)2«n.o.

In iii>' alliiinpt at arriving at i^Diae kind of rough chronology for (lie Buddhistic age, I was chiefly gnided by a number of native traditions bearinj; on iho distnnce between certain events and Buddha's death. Thus ■we find r (1.) That 103 j-ears were supposed to have passed betwaen Budiiha's death and fandrn^upta's accession, 31S + 1G2 = 477, tills giv- ing us 477 IS. c. as tho probable date of that event- (2.) We found that 218 years were atippnsed to have passed between Buddha's death and Aso- )[a's inauguration, 359 + 218 — 47T, this giving ua 477 b. c. as the prob- able date of that event.

I tlierefoie pi-oposed that 477 n. c. should provisionallv be accepted as the pnilialile date of Buddha's dcatii, instead of 543 b. <,-., and I tried to slri>ii!:l]i<>ii tlnit position by some other evidence available at the time.

All iiii|i(ti-(iint continnation of that hypothesis has lately been added ))y too lii^irliitioiis discovered by Cieneral Ounningham, and publinhedby Dr. Bijhlfr in tlie Indian Atii^wiry. Dr. Biihicr seems to me ti> have shown conclusively in his in-o articles that (he irriter of thef« insciiptions could have t>een no other hut Afoka. Amka in these two edicts slates that he haa been for a long time, or for more than 33J years, an vpSsalcii or worshiper of Buddha, and that during one year or more he has been a member of the Saingha. "Sosi if Atoka n-as consecrated in 339, and became an ufiiobt three or four years later, 255 B. c, these inscriptions irould have been put up in 255 — 38^ = 221 B.C. According to the same inscriptions, 256 years had passed since the departure of Buddha (here, too, I accept Dr. lliibler's interpn-tatiun. not because all i(s diCiicuKies are removed, but because, in spite of all dillieulties, the inscription cannot welt be inlerpreted differently) 221 + 250 — 477, this giving ns 477 B. c. as (ho probable date of Buddha's deafh.

Tills


onfirmation vii.


IS entirely unexpecfed, and b


ecomes therefore atl


important, add one other i c in the sixth y


condnnation. Mahinda, (he » •ear of his father's reign, i. «.,


in of Asoka, became in 353 B. c. A( that


jirtb and Buddha's dcatli 2i


.y


thf; ancient literature of ixdia. 131

by Greek writers is mentioned as a child when Alex- ander invaded India, who after Alexander's retreat was king at I'alibothra, wlio was the contemporary of Seleiieua Nicator, and several times visited by Megas- thenes, was the same as the ^ndragupbv of Indian literature, who reigned at Paialiputra, the fonnder of a new dynasty, and the grandfather of Asoka. This Asoka was the famous king who made himself the patron of Buddhism, under whom the great Buddhist Council was held in 245 or 242 B. c, and of whose time we have the first inscnptions, still extant on rocks in different parts of India. These inscriptions are not in Sanskrit, but in a language which stands to Sanskrit in the same relation as Italian to I^tin. The days, therefore, when Sanskrit was the spoken language of the people, were over in the third cent- ury B. C.

Buddhism, again, the religion of Asoka, stands in the same relation to the ancient Brahmanism of the Veda as Italian to Latin, or as Protestantism to Roman Catholicism. Buddhism, in fact, is only in- telligible as a development of, and a reaction against, Brahmanism. As against those, therefore, who con- sider the whole of Indian literature a modern forgery, or against ourselves, when unwilling to trust our own eyes, we have at least these two facts, on winch we can rely : that, in the third century B. C, the ancient Sanskrit language had dwindled down to a mere vol- gare or Prakrit, and that the ancient religion of the

have passed, 2T3 -H 201 = 4TT, ehU giving us once more 4T7 B. c. as the probable date of liuddha'a death.

I learn that so high an authority as General Cunningham has arrived at Uie same conclusion with regard to the date of Buddha's death, and had published it before (he appearance o£ my ffiltoty of Samhiit Li'tratnre, in 185S ; but I do not know whether his argumcnta were the same as those on vhich I chiefly relied.



162 TBI-; ANCIENT LHTRATUBE OF INDIA.

Veda had developed into Biiddliisin, and had been siipei'seded by its own offspring, the state religion in the kingdom of Asoka, the grandson of /landragupta.

THE VEDA PROCLAIMED AS REVEALED.

One of the principal points on whidi Buddhism differed from Brahmanism was the sacred and re- vealed character ascribed to the Veda. This is a point of so much historical importance in the growth of the eaiiy theology of India that we must examine it more carefnlly. The Buddhists, though on many points merely Brahnianists in di^nise, denied the authority of the Veda as a divine revelation ; thia being so, we may advance another step, and asenbe to the theory of a divine inspiration of the Veda a pre-Biiddiiistic origin and prevalence.

At what time the claim of being divinely revealed, and therefore infallible, was first set up by the Brah- mans in favor of the Veda, is difficult to determine, Tliis claim, like other claims of the same kind, seems to have grown up gradually, till at last it was formu- lated into a theory of inspirations as ai'tificial as any known to us from other religions.

The poets of the Veda speak in very different ways of their compositions. Sometimes they declare that they have made the hymns, and they compare their work as poets with that of the carpenter, the weaver, the maker of butter (ghri'ta), the rower of a ship (X. 116, 9).i

In other places, however, more exalted sentiments appear. The hymns are spoken of as shaped by the heart (I. 171, 2; II. 35, 2), and uttered by the

' A niosl; useful colleclinn of pHs?iigFS bearing OD this puint ma}' be found



THE AKCIEST LITERATURE OF INDIA. 133

mouth (VI. 32, 1). The poet says that he found the hymn (X, 67, 1) ; he declares himself power- fully inspired after having drunk the Soma juice (VI. 47, 3), and he compares hia poem to a shower of rain bursting from a cloud (VII, 94, I), or to a cloud impelled by the wind (I. 116, 1).

After a time the thoughts that rose in the heart and were uttered in hymns, were called God-given (I. 3T, 4), or divine (III. 18, 3). The gods were supposed to have roused and sharpened the mind o£ the poets (VI. 47, 10) ; they were called the friends and helpers of the poets (VII. 88, 4 ; VIII. 52, 4), and at last the gods themselves were called seers or poets (I. 31, 1). If tlie petitions addressed to the gods in the hymns of the poets were fulfilled, these hymns were naturally believed to be endowed with miraculous powers, the thought arose of a real inter- course between gods and men (I. 179, 2 ; YII. 76, 4), and the ideas of inspiration and revelation thus grew up naturally, nay inevitably, in the minds of the ancient Brahmans.

By the side of it, however, there also grew up, from the very first, the idea of doubt. If the prayera were not heard, if, as in the contest between Va- eishfSa and VisvS.mitra, the enemy who had called on other gods, prevailed, then a feeling of uncertainty arose which, in some passages of the hymns, goes so far as to amount to a denial of the most popular of all gods, Indra.^

If, however, the claims to a divine origin o£ the Veda had amounted to no more than these poetic thoughts, they would hardly have roused any violent opposition. It is only when the divine and infallible

' Sea this subject treatefl in Lecture VI.


,G00glc


134 THE ASCIEST LITERATURE OF INDIA.

character of tlie whole Veda had been asserted by the Bi'ahmans, and when the Erfihrnajias also, in ■which tliese claims were formukted, had been repre- sented as divinely inspired and infallible, that a pro- teat, like that of the Buddhists, becomes historically intelligible. This step was taken chiefly dnring the SiitriL period. Although in the BrS,hmanas the divine authority of the Vedas is asserted as a fact, it is not yet, so far as I know, used as an instrument to silence all opposition ; and between these two positions the difference is very great. Though sruti, the later tech- nical name for revelation, as opposed to smriti, tra- dition, occurs in the Briihmawas (Ait. Br. VII, 9), it is not yet employed there to crush all doubt or op- position. In the old Upanishads in which the hymns and sacrifices of the Veda are looked upon as useless, and as superseded by the higher knowledge taught by the forest^ages, tbey are not yet attacked as mere impositions.

That opposition, however, sets in very decidedly in the Sutra period. In the Nirukta (I. 15) Y^ska quotes the opinions of Kautsa, that the hymns of the Veda have no meaning at all. Even if ivautsa be not the name of a real person, but a nickname only, the unquestioning reverence for the Veda must have been on the wane before the days of Yasba and P&«ini.* Noi' is it at all likely that Buddha was the first and only denier of the sacred authority of the Veda, and of ail the claims which the Brahmans had founded on that authority. The history of heresy is difficult to trace in India, as elsewhere. The writings of

IV. 4, GO. Lokayala, another name applied to unbeliever, from "liich Lauli!iiatika, is found in llie Ga«a uktliaii, and IV. 2, 60. Birhaspatia occurs ill the cammeiilaty only, V. 1, 121,


y


THE ANCIENT LITERATURE OF fflDIA. 135

BWhaspati, one of the oldest heretics, constantly quoted in later controversial treatises, have not yet been recovered in India. Without committing my- self to any opinion as to his age, I shall state here some of the opinions ascribed to Brihaspati, to show that even the mild Hindu can hit hard blows, and still more in order to make it clear that the strong- hold of Brahmanism, namely, the revealed character of the Vedas, was not a mere theory, but a very im- portant historical reality.

In the " Sarva-darsana-sawigraha " (translated bj' Professor Coweli, Pandit, 1874, p. 162), the first philosophical system of which an account is given is that of the .^i-vaka, who follows the tenets of Brihaspati. The school to which they belonged is called the Loldtyata, i. e., prevalent in the world. They hold that nothing exists but the four elements, a kind of protoplasm, from which, when changed by evolution into organic body, intelligence is produced, just as the inebriating power is developed from the mixing of cei-tain ingredients. The self is only the body qualified by intelligence, there being no evi- dence for a self without a body. The only means of knowledge is perception, the only object of man, en- joyment.

But if that were so, it is objected, why should men of proved wisdom offer the Agnihoti'a and other Vedic sacrifices? To this the following answer is returned : —

" Your objection cannot be accepted as anyproof to the contrary, since the Agnihotra, etc, are only useful as means of livelihood, for the Veda is tainted by the tliree faults of untruth, self-contradiction, and tau- tology. Then again the impostors, who call them-


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I6b THE ASCIEST LITEEATUKE OF INDIA.

selves Vedic pandits, are mutually destructive, as the authority of the t?n^naka«(ia (Upanishads) is over- thrown by those who maintain that of the Karma- kkndii (Hyimis and BrS^hmanas), while those who maintain the authority of the Gnknak^nda, reject that of the Karmaka?ida. Lastly, the three Vedas themselves are only the incoherent rhapsodies of knaves, and to this effect runs the popular saying : —

" The Agnihotra, the three Vedas, the ascetic's three staves, and smearing one's self tvith ashes,

" Brihaspati says, these are but means of Uvelihciod for those Tiho have no manliness or sense."

And again it has been said by Brihaspati : —

" If a beast slain in the ffjotishfoma rite will itself go to

" Why then does not th« satrifioer fovthwitli offer his own

" If the Sraiidha produces gratification to beings who are dead, " Tlien there too, in the case of travelers when they start, it is needless to give provisions for the journey.

" If beings in heaven are gratified by our offering the SrSddha

" Then why not give the food down below to those who are standing on the house-top:'

" While life remains, let a man live happily, let him feed on ghee, even though he runs into debt,

" When once the body becomes ashes, bow can it ever return

" He who departs from the body goes to another world,

" How is it that he comes not back again, restless for love of his kindred?

" Hence it is only as a means of livelihood that Brahmans have ostat)lished here

" All these ceremonies for the dead, —there is no other truit anj' where.

" The three authors of the Vedas were builoous, knaves, and demons,


.


THE ANCIENT LITERATURE OF INDIA. 137

" All the weU-knov7n formulas of the pandits, jarpharf tnr- pharl, etc.

"And all the horrid rites for the queen comm anil ed in the Asvaniedha,

" Tliese were invented by buffoons, and so all the Tarioua kinds of presents to the priests,

" While the eating of flesh was similarly commanded by night- prowling demons."

Some of these objections may be of later date, but most of them are clearly Buddhistic. The retort, Why if a victim slain at a sacrifice goes to heaven, doL's not a man sacrifice his own father, is, as Profes- sor Burnouf has shown, the very argument used by Buddhist controversiahsts.^ Though Buddiiism be- came recognized as a state religion through Asoica in the third century only, there can be little doubt that it had been growing in the minds of the people for several generations, and though there is some, doubt as to the exact date of Buddha's death, his traditional era begins 54B B. c, and we may safely assign the origin of Buddhism to about 500 u. c.

It is the Sanskrit literature before that date which is the really important, I mean historically important hterature of India. Far be it from me to deny the charms of Kalid^isa's play, " iSakuntala," which are very real, in spite of the exaggerated praises bestowed upon it. The same poet's " Megliaduta " or Cloud- Messenger, is an elegy which deserves even higher praise, as a purer and more perfect work of art. "Nala," if we could only remove some portions, would be a most charming idyll; and some of the fables of the " Pareiatantra " or " Hitopadesa," are excellent specimens of what story-telling ought to be. But all this literature is modern, secondary, — as it were, Alexandrian.


,af, iBlrodactioa a I'Hisloire dt Baddhistae


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138 THE ASCIEST LITERATURE OF INDIA.

These works are literary curiosities, but no more ; and tliougli we may well understand that tbey formed a pleasant occupation for anch men as Sir W. Jones and Colebrooke, during tlieir leisure hours, they could never become the object of a life-study.

HISTORICAL CHAEACTEE OP THE VEDIC LANGUAGE.

It is vevy different with the literature of the Veda. First of all, we feel in it on historical gi-ouiid. The language of Vedic literature differs from the ordi- nary Sanskrit. It contains many forms which after- wai-ds have become extinct, and those the very forma which exist in Greek or other Aryan dialects. Or- dinary Sanskiit, for instance, baa no siibjunctive mood. Comparative Philology expected, nay postu- lated, such a mood in Sanskrit, and tlie Veda, when once discovered and deciphered, supplied it in abun- dance.

Ordinary Sanskrit does not mai'k its accents. The Vedic literature is accentuated, and its system of ac- centuation displays the same fundamental principles as the Greek system.

I like to quote one instance, to show the intimate relationship between Vedic Sanskrit and Greek. We know that the Greek Zeus is the same word as the Sanskrit Dyaus, the sky. Dyaus, however, occurs in the later Sanskrit as a feminine only. It is in the Veda that it was discovered, not only as a masculine, but in that very combination in which it became the name of the supreme deity in Greek and Latin. Cor- responding to Jupiter, and Ztus ?ra-njp, we find in tlie Veda Dyaush pitar. But more than that, Ztiis in Greek has in the nominative the acute, in the voca- tive the circumflex. Dyaus in the Veda has in the


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THK ANCIENT LITERATURE OF IKDIA. 139

nominative the acute, ia the vocative the circumflex. And wliile Greek grammarians can give us no ex- planation o£ that change, it is a change which in Sanslirit has been shown to rest on the general prin- ciples of accentuation.^

Now I confess that such a vocative as Dyaus, hav- ing the circumflex instead of the acute, ia to my mind a perfect gem, of the most precious materia! and the most exquisite workmanship. Who has not won- dered lately at those curious relics of pre-Hellenic art, brought to light at Hissarlik and Mykenae by the indefatigable labors of Dr. Schliemann ? I am the last man to depreciate their real value, as opening to us a new world on the classical soil of Greece. But what is a polished or perforated stone, what is a drink- ing-veasel, or a shield, or a helmet, or even a gold diadem, compared with this vocative of Dyaus. In the one case we have mute metal, rude art, and little thought : in the other, a work of art of the most per- fect finish and harmony, and wrought of a material more precious than gold, — human thought. If it took thousands, or hundreds of thousands of men to build a pyramid, or to carve an obelisk, it took mill- ions of men to finish that single word Dyaus, or Ztu',-, or Jupiter, originally meaning the illuminator, but gradually elaborated into a name of God ! And remember, the Veda is full of such pyramids, the ground is strewn with such gems. All we want is laborers to dig, to collect, to cljissify, and to decipher

1 The general rule is that in the vocative the high accent is on the fir^t gyllsble of the wgrd. Remnants only of this rule exiat in Greelc and Latin, while in Sanskrit it admits of no exception. Dyaus having the BVarita or the combined accent in (he vocative is only an apparent excep- tion. The word vras trtnled as dissyllabic, ili had the hi^h, nus the loir accent, and the high and low accents together gave the svarila or com- bined accent, commonly called circum>Iex.



140 THE ASCIEN'T LITEKATURE OF INDIA.

them, in order to lay free once more the low-est cham- bers of that most ancient of all labyrinths, the human mind.

These are not isolated facts or mere curiosities, that can be disposed of with a patronizing Indeed! That accent in the vocative of Dyaus and Zfis is like the nerve of a living organism, still trembling and beating, and manifesting its vitality under the micro- scope of tlie comparative philologist. There is life in it — truly historic life. As modem history would be incomplete without mediaeval history, or meiliaBval his- tory without Roman history, or Roman Iiistory with- out Greek history, so we learn that the whole history of tlie world would henceforth be incomplete without that first chapter in the life of Aryan humanity which has been preserved to us in Vedic literature.

It was a real misfortune to Sanskrit scholarship that our first acquaintance with Indian literature should have begun with the prettinesses of Kalidasa and Bhavabhflti, and the hideousnesaes of the religion of -Siva and Vishwu. The only original, the only im- portant period of Sanskrit literature, which deserves to become the subject of earnest study, far more than it is at present, is that period which preceded the rise of Buddhism, when Sanskrit was still the spoken language of India, and the worship of ;Siva was still unknown.

THE FOUE STRATA OF VBDIC LITERATUKE. J. Suira Period, 500 B. 0. We can distinguish three or four successive strata of literature in that pre-Buddhistic period. First comes the Sutra period^ which extends far into Bud- dhistic times, and is clearly marked by its own pecul-


yCoQl^lC


THE ANCIENT LITERATURE OF IXDIA. 141

iar style. It is composed in the most concise and enig- matical form, unintelligible almost without a com- mentary. I cannot describe ifc to you, for there is nothing like it in any other literature that I am ac- quainted with. But I may quote a well-known say- ing of the Erahmans themselves, that the author of a Sutra rejoices more in having saved one single letter than in the birth of a son : and remember that with- out a son to perform the funeral rites, a Brahman believed that he could not enter into heaven. The object of these Sutras was to gather up the knowl- edge, then floating about in the old Brahmanic settle- ments or Panshads. They contain the rules of sacri- fices, treatises on phonetics, etymologj', exegesis, gram- mar, metre, customs and laws, geometry, astronomy, and philosophy. In every one of these subjects they contain original observations, and original thought, such as can no longer be ignored by any students of these subjects.

Ritual is not a subject that seems to possess any scientific interest at present, still the origin and growth of sacrifice is an important page in the his- tory of the human mind, and nowhere can it be studied to greater advantage than in India.

The science of phonetics arose in India at a time when writing was unknown, and when it was of the highest importance to the Brahmans to preserve the accurate pronunciation of their favorite hymns. I believe I shall not be contradicted by Helmholtz, or Ellis, or other representatives of phonetic science, if I say that, to the present day, the phoneticians of India of the 5th century B. c. are unsurpassed in their analysis of the elements of language.

In grammar, I challenge any scholar to produce


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142 THE ANCIEXT LITERATURE OF ISDIA.

from any language a more comprehensive collection and classification of all the facta of a language than what we find iu PS-wini's Sutras,

With regard to metre, we possess in the observa- tions and tlie technical terms of the ancient Indian authors a clear confirmation of the latest theories of modern metricians, viz., that metres were originally connected with dancing and music. The very names for metre in general confirm this. ffAandas, metre, is connected with scandere, in the sense of stepping ; vritta, metre, from vrit, verto, to turn, meant origi- nally the last three or four steps of a dancing move- ment, the turn, the versus, which determined the whole character of dance and of a metre. Trish- (ubh, the name of a common metre, in the Veda,^ meant three-step, because its tnra, its vritta or versus, consisted of three steps, u — .

I do not feel competent to speak with equal cer- tainty of tlie astronomical and geometrical observa- tions, which we find in some of the ancient Siitra works. It is well known that at a later time the Hindus became the pupils of the Greeks in these subjects. But I have seen no reason as yet to modify my opinion, that there was an ancient indigenous Hindu astronomy, founded on the twenty-seven Nak- shatras or Lunar IMansions, and an ancient indig- enous Hindu geometry, founded on the construction of altars and their inclosures. The problem, for in- stance, treated in the iSulva Sfitras,^ how to con- struct a square altar that should be of exactly the same magnitude as a round altar, suggested probably

' M. M., Trnmlationofthe Jf(> Cfiin, I., p. d-

2 Tliese Sfltras liave for the Rnt (jma been edited anil Iranslated by Professor G- Tbibaul, in the Pandil.


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THE AKCIEXT LITERATUKE OF INDIA. 143

the first attempt at solving the problem of the squar- ing of the circle.^ Anyhow, the terminology used in those early Sutras seems to me home-grown, and it deserves, I believe, in the highest degree the atten- tion of those who wish to discover the first beginnings of mathematical science.

The rules on domestic ceremonies, connected with Jnan-iage, birth, baptism, bnrial, the principlea of education, the customs of civil society, the laws of in- heritance, of property, of taxation and government, can nowhere be studied to greater advantage than in the Grihya and Dharma-sutras. These are the prin- cipal sources of those later metrical law-books, the laws of Manu, TS^navalkya, Par^sara, and the rest, which, though they contain old materials, are in tlieir present form decidedly of a much later diite.

Ill the same Sutraa^ we find also certain chapters devoted to philosophy, the first germs of which exist in the Upanishads, and receive at a later time a most perfect systematic treatment in the six collections of philosophical Sutras. These Sutras may be of a much later date,^ but to whatever period they belong, they contain not only, as Cousin used to say, the whole development of philosophic thought in a nut- 1 In Grcel^«, (no, vre lire Cold that the Delinns received an onule that the misfortunes whicli had betallen them and all the Greelia would cease, it

becauM they were ignorant of geometry. Plato, -whom tliey consulted, told elieni how Id set about it, and explained to them that the real object of the oracle was to encourage them to cultivate acience, instead of war, if thev wished for more prosperous dars. See Plutarch, Oe Daemonio Socmtit, cap. Vlt.

3 See ApastHinha-Silfras, translated hr G. Buhler, in Sacred BoBlaaf the East.

a The Silukbva-kArik^ was tntn'.lated info Chinese about fiSO A. D. See S. Deal, lie Buddhist Ti-lpiiuka, p. 84. I owe Ilie dale, and the fact that the tianslatiou, The Golden Sere«tj/ SkiaU:r, agrees with Cole- brooke's test, to a private coram nnication from Mr. S. Beal.


,


144 THE ASCIENT LITERATURE OF INDIA.

shell, but tliey show us in many cases a treiitment of philosophic problems, which, even in these diiys of philosophic apathy, will rouse surprise and admira- tion.

II. Brahmana Period, GOO-800 B. C.

This period of literature, the Sfitra period, presup- poses another, the period of the Brdhmatias, woi'ks written in prose, but in a totally different style, in a slightly different language, and with a different ob- ject. These Brahmanas, most of which are accent- uated, while the Sutras are so no longer, contain elab- orate discussions on the sacrifices, handed down in different families, and supported by the names of va- rious authorities. Their chief object is the description and elucidation of the sacrifice, but they incidentally touch on many other topics of interest. The Siitras, whenever they can, refer to the Brahmanas as their authority ; in fact, the Sutras would be unintelligible except as foiiowing after the Br^hma);as.

A very impoi^tant portion of the Brahmanas are the Araniyakas, the forest-books, giving an account of the purely mental sacrifices that have to be performed by the V^naprasthas, or the dwellers in the forest, and ending with the Upanishadi, the oldest treatises on Hindn philosophy.

If the Sutra period began about 600 B. c, the BrSJimawa period would require at least 200 years to account for its origin and development, and for the large number of undent teachers quoted as authori- ties. But I care little about these chronological dates. They are mere helps to our memory. What is really important is the recognition of a large stra- tum of literature, lying below the Sutras, but placed


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THE ANCIENT LITERATURE OF INDIA. 145

itself above another straturn, which I call the Mantra period.

Ill Mantra Period, 800-1000 B. C.

To this period I ascribe the collection and the ays- tematic arriingment of the Vedic hymns and furmnlas, which we find in four books or the SaiwhitSs for the Rig- Veda, the Ya^ur-Veda, the S^ma-Veda, and the Atliarva-Veda. These four collections were made with a distinct theological or sacrificial pvivpose. Each contains the hymns which had to be used by certain classes of priests at certain sacrifices. The SSma-veda- sawihitS.^ contains the verses to be used by the sing- ing priests (Udg^tri) ; the Ya^ur-veda-samhitS the verses and formulas to be muttered by the ofliuiating priests (Adhvaryu). These two collections followed in their arrangement the order of certain sacrifices. The Rig-veda-samhitS contained the hymns to be re- cited by the Hotri priests, but mixed up with a largo mass of sacred and popular poetry, and not arranged in the order of any sacrifice. The Atharva-veda- sarabit^ is a later collection, containing, besides a large number of Rig-veda verses, some curious relics of popular poetry connected with charms, impreca- tions, and other superstitious iisages.

We move here already, not only among Epigonoi, but among priests by profession, who had elaborated a most complicated system of sacrifices, and had as- signed to each minister and assistant hia exact share in the performance of each sacrifice, and his portion of the ancient sacred poetry, to be recited, sung, or muttered by him, as the case might be.


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146 THE ANCIENT LITERATUEE OF IXDIA.

Fortunately for ua, there was one class of priests for wLom no speci;il prayer-book iv;is made, eoiitain- ing STifli extracts only as were required to aecoinpany certnin ceremonies, but who had to know by heart the whole tvensuve of their sacred and national poetry. In this manner niucli has been preserved to us of the ancient poetry of India, which lias no special reference to Bacrifi(.'iiil acts ; we have, in fact, one gi'eat collec- tion of ancient poetry, and that is the collection which is known by the name of the liig- Veda, or the Veda of the hymns : in truth, tlie only I'eal or historical Veda, though there are other books called by the same name.

This Veda consists of ten books, each bo{)b being an independent eollec-tion of liymns, though carried out under the same presiding spirit.' These collec- tions were preserved as sacred lieir -looms in different families, and at last united into one great body of sacred poetry. Their number amounts to 1,017 or 1,028.

The period duiing which the ancient hymns were collected, and an-anged as prayer-books for tbe four classes of priests, so as to enable them to take their part in the various sacrifices, has been called the Mantra period, and may have extended from about 1000 to 800 B. C.

IV. liiiandas Period, 1000-X B. C.

It is therefore before 1000 B. c. that we must place

the spontaneous growth of Vedic poetry, such as we

find it in the Rig- Veda and in the Rig- Veda only,

the gradual development of the Vedic religion, and


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THE ASCIEKT LII EliATL'KE OF IXDIA. 147

tlie slow formation of the pviiiclpal Vedic saovifices. How far back that period, the so-called Khandas period, extended, who can tel! ? Some scholars ex- tend it to two or three thousand years before our era, but it is far better to show the different layei-s of thought that produced the Vedic religion, and thus to gain an approximate idea of its long growtli, than to iittempt to measure it by years or centuries, which can never be more than guess-work.

If we want to measure the real depth of that period, we should measure it by the change of language and metre, even by the change of locality from the north- west to the southeast, clearly indicated in some of the hymns ; by the old and new songs constantly spoken of by the poets ; by the successive generations of kings and leaders ; by the slow development of an artificial ceremonial, and lastly by the first signs of the four castes perceptible in the very latest hymns only, A comparison of the Rig- Veda with the Athar- va-veda will in many cases show us how what we ourselves should expect as a later development of the more primitive ideas of the Rig- Veda is what we act- ually find in the hymns of the Atliarva-veda, and in the later portions of the Ya^nr-veda ; nay it is the con- firmation of these expectations that gives us a real faith in the historical growth of Vedic literature.

One thing is certain : there is nothing more ancient and primitive, not only in India, but in the whole Aryan world, than the hymns of the Rig- Veda. So far as we are Aryans in language, that is in thought, so far the Rig- Veda is our own most ancient book,

And now let me tell you, what will again sound like a fairy-tale, but is nevertheless a simple fact. That Rig- Veda which, for more than three, or it may

I i^d by


148 THE ANCIENT LI'iTRATUfiE OF ISDIA.

be four thousand years, has formed the foundation of the religions and monil life of untold millions of hu- man beings, had never been published ; and by a com- bination of tlie most fortunate circumstances, it fell to my lot to bring out the first complete edition of tlmt sacred text, together with the most anthoritative com- mentary of Hindu theologians, the commentary of S&yama AiSrya.

The Rig- Veda consists of 1,017 or 1,028 hymns, each on an average of ten vei'ses. The total number of words, if we may trust native scholars, amounts to 153,826.

THE VEDA HANDED DOWN BY ORAL TRADITION.

But how, you may ask, was that ancient literature


At present, no doubt, there are MSS, of the Veda, but few Sanskrit MSS. in India are older than 1000 after Christ, nor ia there any evidence that the art of wi'iting was known in India much before the beginning of Buddhism, or the very end of the ancient Vedic literature. How, then, were these an- cient hymns, and the Br&hmanas, and, it may be, the Sutras too, preserved ? Entirely by meraoi-y, but by memory kept under tlie strictest discipline. As far back as we know anything of India, we find that the years which we spend at school and at university were spent by the sons of the three higher classes in learning from the mouth of a teacher their sacred literature. This was a sacred duty, the neglect of which entailed social degradation, and the most mi- nute rules were hiid down as to the mnemonic system that had to be followed. Before the invention of writing there was no other way of preserving litera- ture, whether sacred or profane, and in consequence every precantion was taken against accidents. ( ~(">oq|p


THE ANCIENT LITERATUUE OF INDIA. 149

It has Bometimes been asserted that the Vedic re- ligion is extinct in India, that it never recovered from its defeat by Buddliism ; that the modern Brahmaiiic religion, as founded on the PurSmas ^ and Tantras, consists in a belief in Vishnu, /S'iva, and Brahma, and manifests itself in the worship of the most hideous idols. To a superficial observer it may seem to be so, but English scholars who have lived in India in inti- mate relations with the natives, or native scholars who now occasionally visit us in England, give a very dif- ferent account. No doubt, Brahmanism was for a time defeated by Buddhism; no doubt it had, at a later time, to accommodate itself to circumstances, and tolerate many of the local forms of worship, which were established in India, before it was slowly sub- dued by the Brahmans. Nor did Brahmanism ever possess a state machinery to establish uniformity of religious belief, to test orthodoxy, or to punish heresy over the whole of India. But how was it that, during the late famine, many people would rather die than accept food from unclean hands ?^ Are there any

' We must carefully dislinguisb between [lie Puranas, such aa they nov exist, and the original Purfina, a reoognlzed imme for ancient tradition, mentioned already in the Atharva-Veda, XI. 7, 24, rikaJi Eam^ni kkta- dilnisi paranam ya^nshi Eaha j XV. 6, A, itihiaai pur^am ka gatha^ £a nar&mmai^ ha. The original Purftfla formed part, from the earliest timee, of (he (radilional [earning of lh« Brahmans (see A*v..Gj-ih.i-a-Slltra9, III. 3, 1|, aa distinct from the Ilihilsiis, the [e)^nds; and we hear of Pur3iM and IlihaKBB being repealed tor entertainment, for instance at funerals, As^.-Grihya-SatraR, IV. 6, 0. The law-i>oolts frequently refer to the FarAna as authoritative, as distinct from Veda, Dharniasastras and Te- dilngan ; Gautama, XI. 19. Extracts from the Purana are given in Apas- tamba's DharmasQlras, I. 19, 13; II. 23, 3. Tliese are metrical and re- peated, the former in Mann, IV. 218, 249, the latter in Ya^avalbya, III. 188. Prose quotations occur, Apast.Dh. S., 1. 29, 7. Totally distinct from tJiis are the I'urgnas. So late as the time of Caimini no importance vai attached to the Purinas, for he does not even refer to them in his system of M!ma>n9&. Cf. Sliafldariana-iintanik^, I. p. 164.

^ It is curious that the populur idea that, even during a fi



150 THE AKca:xT litkrature or isdia.

priests in Europe or elsewhere, whose iiuthority would be proof agitinsfc staiTation? The influence of the priests is still eiioi'mons in India, and all the greater, beciiiise it is embodied in the influence of custom, tradition, and superstition. Now those men who are, even at the present moment, recognized as the spirit- ual guides of the people, those whose influence for good or evil is even now immense, are beiievers in the siipreine authority of the Veda. Evei-ythiug, whether founded on individual opinion, on local cus- tom, on Tiuitras or Pur3.Has, nay, even on the law- books of Mituu, must give wiij', us soon as it can be proved to be in direct conflict with a single sentence of the Veda. On that point there can be no contro- versy. But those Brahmans, who even in this Kali age, and during the ascendency of the Mlekkkixs up- hold the sacred traditions of the pitst, are not to be met with in the drawing-rooms of Calcutta. They depend on the alms of the people, and live in villages, either by themselves, or in coSleges, They wordd lose their prestige, if they were to shake hands or converse with an infidel, and it is only in rare eases that they drop their reserve, when brought in contact with Europeans whose knowledge of their own sacred language and literature excites their wonderment. and with a little pressure, opens their heart and their mouth, like a treasure-house of ancient knowledge. Of course, they would not speak English or even Bengali. They speak Sansknt and write Sanskrit, and I frequently receive letters from some of tliem, couched in the moat faultless language.

And my fairy-tale is not all over yet. These men.


lOt be accepted frnm nnclean hands, r flatlj- conttfldicled by both Sruti and S



THE ANCIENT LITERATURE OF INDIA, 151

and I know it as a fact, know tlie -whole Rig- Veda by heiii-t, just as their ancestors did, three or four thoiisitiid years ago ; and though they have MSS., and though they now have a printed text, they do not learn their Siicred lore f rojn them. They learn it, its their ancestors learnt it, thousiincis of years ago, from the mouth of a teacher, so that the Vedic suc- cession should never be broken.' That oral teaching and learning became in the eyes of tlie Brahmans one of the great sacrifices, and though the number of those who still keep it up is smaller thikn it used to be, their influence, their position, their sacred author- ity, are aa great iis ever. These men do not come to England, they would not cross the sea. But some of tiieir pupils, who have been brought up half on the native, aud half on tlie English system, are less strict, I have had visits from natives who knew large por- tions of the Veda by heart. I have been in corre- spondence with others who, when they were twelve or fifteen years old, could repeat the whole of it.^ Tiiey learn a few lines every day, repeat them for hours, so that the whole house resounds with the noise, and they thus sti-engthen their memory to that degree, tliat when tiieir apprenticeship is finished, you can open tliein like a book, and find any pass;ige you like, any word, any accent. One native scholar, Shankar

1 Tliia oral teaching la carefnlly described in the PraliiSkhj-a of Iha Rig- Veda, i. «., pnilably in (he flflh or sixth CBntBry B. o. It la constually allnded to in the Brihmanaa, but it must have existed, even diirlii;; the earlier periods, for in a hymn o( the Rig-Veda [VII. 105), in wliich tlie ca- (um at the rainy Reason, and Iha delight and quoekiiig oE the frogs is d«- serihed, we read : " One repeats the speecli of tho other, an tlie pupil (re- peats the words) of the teauher." The pnpit is called silishaniilnaA, the teacher taktoA, vhile aikslifi, from tlie same root, is the recognized techni- CuI term for phonetics iii Inter times,

= Indinn AjUiqanrij, 1ST8, p. 140, "There are thousands of Biihmans, the editor remarks, who know the whole of the Rig- Veda by henrt, and can repeat it, etc-"




152 THE AKCIEST LITEKATUKE OF INDIA.

Pandurang, is at the present moment eollectitig Ta- rious readings for my edition of the Rig- Veda, not from MSS., but from the oral tradition of Vaidik (S-otriyaB. He writes, on the 2d March, 1877, "I am collecting a few of our walking Rig- Veda MSS., tailing your text as the basis. I find a good many differences which I shall soon be able to examine more closely, when I may be able to say whether they are various readings or not. I will of course com- municate them all to you before making any use of them publicly, if I ever do this at all. As I write, a Vaidik scholar is going over your Rig- Veda text. He has his own MS. on one side, but does not open it, except occasionally. He knows the whole SaiH- hitS and Pada texts by heart. I wish I could send you his photograph, how he is squatting in my tent with his Upavita (the sacred cord) round his shoul- ders, and only a Doti round his middle, not a bad specimen of our old Rishis."

Think of that half-naked Hindu, repeating under an Indian sky the sacred hymns which have been handed down for three or four thousand years by oral tradition. If writing had never been invented, if printing bad never been invented, if India had never been occupied by England, that young Brahman, and hundreds and thousands of his countrymen, would probably have been engaged just the same in learning and saying by heart the simple prayers first uttered on the Saritsvatl, and the other rivers of the Penjab by VasishtAa, Visv^mitra, S'ySrvSsva, and others. And here are we, under the shadow of Westminster Ab- bey, in the very zenith of the intellectual life of Europe, my, of the wiiole world, listening in our minds to the same sacred hymns, trying to under-


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THE ANCIENT LITERATURE OF ISDIA. 153

stand them (and they are sometimes very difficult to Tindei'stand), and hoping to learn from them some of the deepest secrets of the human huart, that human heart which is the same evei-ywhere, however widely we ourselves may be separated from each other by space and time, by color juid creed.

This is the story I wished to tell you to-day. And though it may have sounded to some of you like a fitiry-tale, believe me it is truer in all its details than many a chapter of contemporary history.


POSTSCRIPT TO Till THIRD LECTURE.

As T find that some of my remarks as to the hand- ing down of the antient Sanskrit literature by means of oral tradition md the permanence of that system to the present di\. hive been received with a certain amount of incredulity, I subjoin some extracts from the Rig-veda-pratis^khya, to show how the oral teach- big of the Vedas was carried on at least 500 b. c, and some statements from the pens of two native scholars, to show how it is maintained to the present day.

The Prlltis&lihya of the Rig- Veda, of which I pub- lished the text and a German translation in 1856, contains the rules according to which the sacred texts are to be pronounced. I still ascribe this, wliich seems to me the oldest PrfltisSxkhya, to the 5th or 6th century B, C, to a period between Y&ska on one side, and P&nini on the other, until more powerful argu- ments can be brought forward against this date than have been hitherto advanced. In the 15th chapter of that Pratis§.khya we find a description of the method followed in the schools of ancient India. The teacher,


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154 THE A.VCIENT LtTERATlj'EE OF INDIA.

we are told, must himself have passed through the recognized curriculum, and have fulfilled all the duties of a Brahmaiiicitl student (brahmajiirin), before he is allowed to become a teacher, and he must teach such students only who submit to all the mles of studentship. He should settle down in a proper place. If he has only one pupil or two, they should sit on his right aide; if more, they must ait as there is room for them. At the beginning of each lecture the pupils embrace the feet of their teacher, and say : Reiid, Sir. Tlie toucher answers : Om, Yes, and then pronounces two words, or, if it is a compound, one. When the teacher has pronounced one word or two, the first pupil repeats the fii-si word, but if there is anything that requires explanation, the pupil says Sir; and after it has been explained to him (the teacher says), Om, Yes, Sir.

In this manner they go on till tJiey have finished a prasna (question), which consists of three veraes, or, if they are verses of more than forty to forty-two syl- lables, of two verses. If they are pankti-verses of forty to forty-two syllables each, a prasna may com- prise either two or three ; and if a hymn consists of one verse only, that is supposed to form a prjisna. After the prasna is finished, they have all to repeat it once more, and then to go on learning it by heart, pronouncing every sylhible with the liigh accent. After the teacher has fii'st told a praana to his pupil on the right, the others go round him to the right, and this goes on till the whole adhyaya or lecture is finished ; a lecture consisting generally of sixty pras- nas. At the end of the last half-verse the teacher says Sir, and the pupil replies, Om, Yes, Sir, repeat- ing also the verses required at the end of a lecture.


.y


THE AKCIENT LlTliBATUEE OF INDIA. 155

The pupils then embrace the feet of their teacher, and are dismissed.

These ai'e the general features of a lesson, but the PrlltJ*&kIiya contains a number of minute rules be- sides. For instance, in order to prevent small words from being neglected, the teacher is to repeat twice every word which has bnt one high accent, or consists of one vowei only. A number of small words are to be followed by the particle iti^ thus ; others are to be followed by id, and then to be repeated again, e. g., ia-iti foi.

These lectures continued during about half the year, the term beginning generally with the rainy season. There were, however, many holidays on which no lectures were given, and on these points also the most minute regidatioiis are given both in the Grihya and Dharma-sutras.

This must suffice as a picture of what took place in India about 500 B. C. Let us now see what re- mains of the ancient system at present.

In a letter received fi-om the learned editor of the " Shaddarsana-ftintanik^," or Studies in Indian Phi- losophy, dated Poona, 8 June, 1878, the writer says:

" A student of a Rig-Veda-s^kii& (a recension of the Rig-Veda), if sharp and assiduous, takes about eight years to learn the Das^;ranthas, the ten books, which consist of

(1) The Sawshitit, or the hymns.

(2) The Erahmana, the prose treatise on sacri- fices, etc.

(3) The Ara«yaka, the forest-book.

(4) The Grihya-sutraa, the rules on domestic cere- monies.

(5-10) Tlie six Angas, treatises on iS'iksha, pro-


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15G TliE ASCIEST LlTl^KATLBr OF IKDIA.

nunciatioii, G'yotislia, astronomy, Kalpa, ceremonial, VySJsarana, grammar, Niglianfu and Nirukta, ety- mology, KkAin\as, metre.

" A pupil studies every day during the eight years, except on the holidays, the so-ciilled aiiadhyaya, i. e., iion-reailing days. There being 360 daj*s in a lunar year, the eight years would give him 2,880 days. From this 384 holidays have to be deducted, leaving him 2,496 work-days during the eight yeai-s.

" Now the ten books consist on a rough c;ilcnlatioii of 29,500 slokas, so that a student of the Rig- Veda has to leani about twelve slokas a day, a sloka con- sisting of thirty-two syllables.

" I ought to point out to you the source of my in- formation. We have an association in Poona which is called the Vedasfistrotte^akasabhS, which annually awards prizes in all recognized branches of Sanskrit learning, such as the six schools of Indian philosophy, the Aiankfii-a-s^sti-a or rhetoric, Vaidyaka or medicine, (Jyotisha or astronomy, recitation of the Veda in its different forms, such as Pada, Krama, Ghana, and Giit&, and all the subjects I have alreiwly mentioned under the name of Dasagrantha, in the case of the Rig-veda B rah mans. The prize-men are recom- mended by a board of examiners. In every subject a threefold test is employed, — theoretical knowledge of the subject (prakriya), general knowledge of the subject (upasthiti), and the constioiction of passages from recognized works in each branch of knowledge (gi-antharthaparikshS,). About 1,000 rupees are dis- tributed by the leading native gentlemen of Pnona. At a meeting held the 8th May last there were about fifty Sanskrit Pandits and Vaidikas. In their pres- ence I got tlie information from an old Vaidika much respected in Poona." ^-. ■

I -dtyCjOOglC


THE ASCIENT LITEBATURK OF IMMA. 157

Another interesting account of the state of native learning comes from the pen of Professor R. G, Bhandiirkar, M. A. ("Indian Antiquary," 1874, p. 132):-

" Every BrahmaHic family," he writes, " is devoted to the study of a particular Veda, and a particular fSkbS (recension) of a Veda ; and the domestic rites of the family are performed according to the ritual described in the Sutra connected with that Veda. The study consists in getting by heart the books form- ing the particular Veda. In Northern India, where the predominant Veda is the White Ya^ush, and the sSikh^ that of the Madhyandinas, this study has almost died out, except at BanSras, \yhore Brah- manic families from all parts of India are settled. It prevails to some extent in Gujar&fc, but to a much greater extent in the MardtSS, country; and in Tailan- gana there is a large number of Bi-ahmans who still devote their life to this study. Numbers of these go about to all parts of the country in search of dak- shinS. (fee, aims), and all well-to-do natives patronize them according to their means, by getting them to repeat portions of their Veda, which is mostly the Black Ya^sh, with Apastamba for their Sutra. Hardly a week passes here in Bombay in which no Tailangana Brabnian conies to me to ask for dak- shinl. On each occasion I get the men to repeat what they have learned, and compare it with the printed texts in my possession.

" Witli reference to their occupation, Brahmana of each Veda are generally divided into two classes, Gri- hasthas and Bhikshukas. The former devote them- selves to a wordly avocation, while the latter spend their time in the study of their sacred books and the practice of their religious rites.




158 THE AXCIENT LITERATURE OF IXDIA.

" Both these classes have to repeat dnily the San- dliyd-vamlanii or twilight-prayers, the forms of which are somewhat different for the different Vt'dus. But the repftition of the Gityatri-maiitra ' 'I'aC Savitiir varenyain,' etc., five, ten, twenty-eight, or a hundred and eight times, wliich forma the principal portion of the ceremony, is common to all.

" Besides this, a great many perform diiily what is called Brahmayaj/na, which on certain occasions is incumbent on all. This for the Rig-vedis consists of the iirst hyinn of the first raant?ala, and the opening sentences of the Aitareya Brahma?ia, the five parts of the Aitareya Ai'aJiyaha, the Ya^ns-sawdiit^, the S^ma- eamhit^ the Atharvsi-samliitS, AsvalEyana Kaipa Sfl- tva, Nirukta, ^/(andas, Nigliawtn, Gyotisha, iSikshS, P^/iini, Ya^navalkya Smi-iti, Mah&bharata, and the Sutras of Kaw^da, (?aimini, and BatlarayaHa.

" Such Bhikshukas, however, as have studied the ■whole Veda repeat more than the first hyinn ; they I'epeat as much as they wish (sa yavan manyeta tS- vad iidhitya, Asval^yana).

"Some of the Bhikshnkas are wliat are called Yfii/nikas. They follow a priestly occnpiitiou, and are skilled in the performance of sacred rites

"But a more important class of Bhikshukas are the Vaidikas, some of whom are Y%nika3 as well. Learning the Vedas by heart and repeating them in a manner never to make a single mistake, even in the accents, is the occupation of their life. The best Rig-vedi Vaidika knows by heart the Samhitfl,, Pada, Kraiiia, Craia and Ghana of the hymns, the Aitareya Br^hmawa and Arawyaka, the ICalpa and Gj'thya Su- tra of Asval^yana, the Nighawtu, Niriikta, Kh&ndiis, Gyotisha, ilksha, and Piiwini's grammar, .V Vaidilca is thus a living Vedic library, ii("»olf


THE ANCIEKT LITERATURE OF ISDIA. 159

" Tlie Samhitft, Pada, Krama, Gatk and Ghana are different names for peculiar arrangements of the text of the hymns.

" In the SamhitS. text all words are joined, accord- ing to the phonetic rules peculiar to Sanskrit.

"In the Pada text the words are divided and com- pounds also are dissolved.

" In the Krania text, suppose we have a line of eleven words, they are arranged as follows, the rules of Sandhi being observed throughout for letters and accent : —

"1, 2; 2, 3; 3, 4; 4, 5; 5, 6; 6, 7; 7. 8; etc. The last word of each verse, and half-verse, too, is re- peated with iti (veshiana)."

These tliree, the Samhitil, Pada, and Krama texts, are the least artificial, and are mentioned already in the Aitai-eya-dramyaka, thongli under different and, as it would seem, older names. The Sawihit^ text ia called Nirbhn^a, i. e., inclined, the final and initial letters being as it were inflected ; the Pada text ia called Patn'nwa, i. e., cut asunder ; the Krama text, Ubhayam-antarerea, t. e., between the two.^

" In the (?atS, the words are arranged as follows : —

"1, 2, 2, 1, 1. 2 ; 2, 3, 3, 2, 2, 3 ; 3, 4, 4, 3, 3, 4 ; etc. The last word of each verse, and half-verse, is re- peated with iti.

" In the Ghana the words are arranged as follows :

1, 2, 2, 1, 1, 2, 3, 3, 2, 1, 1, 2, 3 ; 2, 3, 3, 2, 2, 8, 4,

1 Mg-t(da-pralisakh'ja, cA. M. M. p. iii. and NaditrSge, p. 11. Quile a diftcrent nomeiiclntHre ia thnt found in lliB Bamhito-panisbad-bi-ahma\ia, I. (ed. Burnell, p. 9, 11, teq.) The fhree Samhitls menlioned there are called niddhH, adnAspmhia, and anirbbuiya. The first H explained as recitfd aEler balhing, etc., in a pure or hol.v place ; the second as recited without any mistake of pronunciation ; the third anitbiiupa, as recited


,


160 THE ANCIENT LITERATURE OP INDIA.

4, 3, 2, 2, 3 ; 2, 3, 3, 2, 2, 3, 4, 4, 3, 2, 2, 3, 4; S, 4, 4, 3, 3, 4, 5, 5, 4, 3, 3, 4, 5 ; ete. The last two words of e;ich verse and lialf-verse are repeated witli iti, as, e. g., 7, 8, 8, 7, 7, 8 ; 8 iti 8 ; and .igiiin, 10, 11, 11, 10, 10, 11 ; 11 iti 11. Compounds are dissolved (avagraliii).

"The object of these different arrangements is simply tiie most accurate presei-vation of tlie sacred text. Nor is the recital merely mechanical, tlie at- tention being constantly required for the phonetic changes of final and initial letters, and for the con- stant modification of the accents. The different ac- cents are distinctly shown by modulations of the voice. The Rig-vedis, K^nvas, and Atharva-vedis do this in a way different from the Taittiriviis, while the M^dhj'andinas indicate the accents by certain movements of the right hand.

" Among the Rig-vedis it is not common to go so far as tlie Ghana ; they are generally satisfied with Samhit^ Pada, and Krama. Among the Taittii'tyas, however, a. great many Vnidikas go up to the Ghana of the hymns, since they have to get up only their Br&hmana and AraJiyaka in addition. Some learn the Taittiriya Pr&tis^khya also, but the Vedttiigas are not attended to by that class, nor indeed by any ex- cept the Rig-vedis. The Mtldhyaudinas get up the Sarahita, Pada, Krama, (?atSi, and Ghana of their hymns; but their studies generally stop there, and there is hardly one to be found who knows the whole 5atapatha BrShmawa by heart, though several get up portions of it. There are very few Athavva-vedis in the Bombay Presidency. The students of the SSma- veda have their own innumerable modes of singing the SS.ma8. They get up their Bralima»as and Upa- nishads also,

I .^dtyGOOglC


THE ANCIENT LITERATURE OP INDIA. 161

"There is another class of Vedic students called -S^otriyas, or popularly ^rautis. They are acquainted with the art of performing the great saeriflcea. They are generally good Vaidikas, and in addition study the Kalpa-siitras and the Prayogaa, or manuals. Their number is very limited.

'^ Here and there one meets with Agnihotris, who maintain the three sacri6eial fires, and perform the fortnightly rsliiis (sacrifices), and -ffaturmSsyas (par- ticular sacrifices every four months). The grander Soma sacrifices are now and then brought forward, but they are, as a matter of course, very unfrequent." These extracts will show what can be done by memory for the preservation of an ancient literature. The tejtts of the Veda have been handed down to us with such accuracy that there is hardly a various reading in the proper sense of the word, or even an uncertain accent, in the whole of the Rig- Veda. There are corruptions in the text, which can he dis- covered by critical investigation ; but even these cor- ruptions must have formed part of the recognized text since it was finally settled. Some of them belong to different S&khks or recensions, and are discussed in their bearing by ancient authorities.

The authority of the Veda, in respect to all religious questions, is as great in India now as it has ever been. It never was uncontested as little as the authority of any other sacred book has been. But to the vast majorities of orthodox believers the Veda forms still the highest and only infallible authority, quite as much as the Bible with us, or the Koran with the Mohammedans,


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IV.

THE WOESHIP OF TANGIBLE, SEMI- TANGIBLE, AND INTANGIBLE OBJECTS.


Let us clearly see the place from which we start, the point which we wish to reach, and the road which we have to travel. We want to reach the point where religious ideas take their first origin, but we decline to avail ourselves o£ the beaten tracks of the fetish theory on the left, and of the theorj' of a primordial revelation on the right side, in order to an-ive at our goal. We want to find a road which, starting from what everj'body grants us, viz., the knowledge sup- plied by our five senses, leads us straight, though it may be slowly, to a belief in what is not, or at least not entirely, supplied to us by the senses, — the various disguises of the infinite, the supernatural, or the divine.

EVIDEXCE OF RELIGIOS NKVElt ESTIEELY SKSSUOUS.

All religions, however they may differ in other respects, agree in this one point, that their evidence is not entirely supplied by sensuous perception. This applies, as we saw, even to fetish-worship, for in wor- shiping bis fetish, the savage does not worship a common stone, but a stoue which, besides being a stone that can be touched and handled, is i


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OBJECTS TANGIBLE, SEMI-TAKGIRLE, INTANGIBLE. 163

to be something else, this something else being beyond the reach of our hands, our ears, or our eyes.

How does this arise ? What is the historical proc- ess which produces the conviction, that there is, or that there can be, anytliing beyond what is manifest to our senses, something invisible, or, as it ia soon called, infinite, super-human, divine? It may, no i

doubt, be an entire mistake, a mere hallucination, to ;

speak of things invisible, or infinite, or divine. But, in that case, we want to know all the more how it is that people, apparently sane on all other points, have, from the beginning of the world to the present ;

day, been insane on this one point. We want an i

answer to this, or we shull have to surrender religion ;

as altogether unfit for scientific treatment. ;

EXTERNAL EEVELATION. [

If we thought that mere words could help us, we should say that all religious ideas which ti'ansceiid :

the limits of senauons perception owed their origin to some kind of external revelation. This sounds well, and there is hardly any religion that does not put forward some such claim. But we have only to trans- late this ai'gument as it meets us everywhere, into fetish language, in order to see how little it would help us in removing the difficulties which bar our way in an historical study of the origin and growth of religious ideas. Suppose we asked an Ashanti priest how lie knew that his fetish was not a common stone, but something else, call it as yon like; and suppose he were to say to us that the fetish himself had told him so, had revealed it to him, what should we say ? Yet the theory of a primeval revelation, disguise it as yon may, always rests on this very ar-

l..led by


16-i OBJECTS TASGIBLE, SEJl I- TANGIBLE, liSTANGIBLE.

gument. How did man know that there ai'e gods ? Because the gods themselves told him so.

This is an idea which we find both among the lowest and amongst the most highly civilized races. It is a constant saying among African tribes, that " formerly heaven was nearer to men than it is now, that the highest god, the creator himself, gave for- merly lessons of wisdom to human beings; but that afterwards he withdrew from them, and dwells now far from them in heaven."^ The Hindus^ say the same, and they, as well as the Greeks,^ appeal to their ancestors, who had lived in closer community with the gods, as their authority on what they believe about the gods.

But the question is, how did that idea of gods, or of auytliiug beyoud what we can see, first rise up in the thoughts of men, even in the thoughts of their earliest ancestors. The real problem is, bow man gained the predicate G-od : for he must ciearly have gained that predicate before he could apply it to any object, whether visible or invisible,

INTERNAL REVELATION.

When it was found that the concept of the infinite, the invisible, or the divine, could not be forced into us from without, it was thought that the difficulty couid be met by another word. Man, we were told, possessed a religious or superstitious instinct, by which he, alone of all other living creatures, was enabled to perceive the infinite, the invisible, the divine.

Let us translate this answer also into simple fetish


i. p. 346.


OBJECTS TANGIBLE, SEMI-TANGIBLE, INTJftiGIBLE. 165


!, and I think we shall be surprised at our own priraitlvenesH.

If an Ashanti were to tell us that he could see that there was something else in his fetish beyond a mere stone, because he possessed an instinct of seeing it, we should probably wonder at the progi'ess which he had made in hollow phraseology under the iu- '

flnence of European teaching, but we should hardly think that the study of man was likely to be much ;

benefited by the help of unsophisticated savages. ]

To admit a religious instinct, as something over and above our ordinary mental faculties, in order to ex- |

plain the origin of religions ideas, is the same as to admit a linguistic instinct in order to explain the origin of language, or an arithmetic instinct in order to explain our power of counting. It is the old story of certain drugs producing sleep, because forsooth '.

they possess a soporific quality.

I do not deny that there is a grain of truth in both !

these answers, but that grain must first be picked i

out from a whole bushel of untruth. For shortness' sake, and after we have carefully explained what we mean by a primeval revelation, what we mean by a religious instinct, we may perhaps be allowed to continue to employ these terms ; but they have so often been used with a wrong purpose that it would seem wiser to avoid them iu future altogether.

Having thus burnt the old bridges on which it was so easy to escape from the many difficulties which stare us in the face when we aak for the ori- gin of religious ideas, all that remains to us now is to advance, and to see how far we shall succeed in accounting for the origin of religious ideas without taking refuge in the admission either of a primeval

I l^dLy


106 OBJECT! TAKGIBl-E, SEMI-TANG IBLK, ISTAXGIBLE.

revelation or of a religious instinct. We have our five senses, and we have the world before ns, such as it is, vouched for by the evidence of the senses. The question is, How do we an'ive at a world beyond ? or rather, How did our Aryan forefathers anive there ?

THE SESSES AND THEIR EVIDENCE.

Let us begin then from the beginning. We call real Of manifest what we can perceive with our five senses. That is at least what a primitive man calls so, and we must not drag in here t!ie question, whether our senses really convey to us real knowl- edge. We are not dealing at present with Berke- leys and Humes, not even with an Empedokles or Xenophanes, but with a quarternary, it may be a tertiary Troglodyte. ^To him a bone which he can touch, smell, taste, see, and, if necessary, hear, as he cracks it, is real, very real, as real as anything can be. ,

We should distinguish, however, even in th;it early stage, between two classes of senses, the senses of toucli, scent, and taste, which have sometimes been called the palaioterie senses,^ on one side, and the senses of sight and hearing, the so-called neoteric senses, on the other. The first three give us the greatest material certainty; the two last admit of doubt, and have frequently to be verified by the for-

Touch seems to offer the most irrefragable evi- dence of reality. It is the lowest, the least special- ized and developed sense, and, from au evokitionai-y point of view, it has been classed as the oldest sense. Scent and taste ace the next more specialized senses,

1 H, MuirhOfld, The Senses.


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OBJECTS TANGIBLE, SEMI-TANGIBLE, INTANGIBLE. 167

and they ate used, the former by animals, and the latter by children, for the purpose of further verificar tion.

To many of the higher animals scent seema the most important teat of objective reality, while with man, and particuUvriy with civilized man, it has almost ceased to render any service for that purpose. A child makes but little use of scent, but in order to convince itself of the reality of an object, it first touches it, and afterwards, if it can, it puts it into its mouth. The latter process is surrendered as we grow older, but the former, that of touching things with our hands for the purpose of verification, remains. Many a man, even now, would say that nothing ia real that cannot be touched, though he would not in- sist, with the same certainty, tliat everything that is real must have a smell or a taste.

THE MEANING OP SfANIFEST.

W© find this confirmed by language also. When we wish to afiirra that the reality of any object can- not be reasonably doubted, we say that it is manifest. When the Romans formed this adjective, they knew very well what they meant, or what it meant. Mani- fest meant, with them, what can be touched or struck with the hands. S'endo was an old Latin verb, meaning to strike. It was preserved in offendo, or in defendo, to strike or to push away from a per- son. Festue, an old irregular participle, stands for fend and tus, just asfus-tis, a cudgel, stands for/oa- tis,^ fons-tis, fond-lis..

This fustU, cudgel, however, has nothing to do with_^8(.^ J" in English points to Latin and Greek

1 Cnrssen, Aasspraclie, I. U9 ; II. 190.

2 Grimm, Hktionary, a. v. faust.


yGoQl^lC


1C8 OBJECTS TANGIBLE, SEMI- TANGIBLE, ISTASGIBLE.

p ; hence fist is p^obaLly connected with the Greek TiJ^, with clenched fists, Latin ^«^b«, a battle origi- nally a boxing, jtukt^ and pugil, a boxer. The root of these words is preserved in the Latin verb pungo, pufugi, punctum, so that the invisible point in geometry, or the most abstrase point in metaphysics, takes its name from boxing.

The root which yielded fendo, fustis, and/es(MS is quite different. It is dhan or han, to stiike down, which appears in Grreek fletVetv, to strike, fitVap, the flat of the hand, in Sanskrit han, to kill, nidhana, death, etc.

Let us return now to the things which the early inhabitants of this earth would call manifest or real. A stone, or a bone, or a shell, a tree also, a mountain or a river, an animal also or a man, all these would be called real, because they could be struck with the hand. In fact, all the common objects of their sen- suous knowledge would to them be real.

DIVISION OP SENSE-OBJECTS INTO TANGIBLE AND SEin-TAHGIBLE. "VVe can, however, divide this old stock of primeval knowledge into two classes : —

(1) Some objects, such as stones, bones, shells, flowers, berries, branches of wood, drops of water, lumps of earth, skins of animals, animals also them- selves, all these can be touched, as it were, all round. We have them before us in tlieir completeness. They cannot evade our griisp. There is nothing in them unknown or unknowable. They were the most familiar household words of primitive society.

(2) The case is different when we come to trees, mountains, rivers, or the earth.


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OBJECTS TANGIBLE, SEMi-TASGIBLE, raTAKGIRLE. 169


Even a toree, at least one of tlie old giants in a pri- meval forest, has something overwhelming and over- awing. Its deepest roots are beyond our reach, its head towers high above us. We may stand beneath it, touch it, look up to it, bat our senses cannot take it in at one glance. Besides, as we say ourselves, there is life in the tree,^ while the beam is dead. The ancient people felt the same, and how should they express it, except by saying that the tree lives ? By saying this, they did not go so far as to ascribe to the tree a warm breath or a beating heart, but they certainly admitted in the ti'ee that was springing up before their eyes, that was growing, putting forth branches, leaves, blossoms, and fruit, shedding its foliage in winter, and that at last was cut down or killed, something that went beyond the limits of their sensuous knowledge, something unknown and strange, yet undeniably real ; — and this unknown and un- knowable, yet undeniable something, became to tlie more thoughtful among them a constant source of wonderment. They could lay hold of it on one side by their senses, but on the other it escaped from them — " it fell from them, it vanished."

MOUNTAINS. A similar feeling of wonderment became mixed up with the perceptions of mountains, rivers, the sea, and the earth. If we stand at the foot of a mount- ain, and look up to where its head vanishes in the clouds, we feel like dwarfs before a giant. Nay, there ave mountains utterly impassable, which, to

J Matthews, Ethnogmph'j of ITIdalm Indiana, p. 43.


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170 OBJECTS TANGIBLE, SEMI -TANGIBLE, INTANGIiiLE.

those who live in the valley, mark the end of tlieir little world. The dawn, the sun, the moon, the stars, seem to rise from the mountains, the sky seems to rest on them, and when ouu eyes have climbed up to their highest visible peaks, we feel on the very threshold of a world beyond. And let us think, not of our own flat and densely peopled Europe, not even of the Alps in all their snow-clad majesty, bnt of that country where the Vedic hymns were fii'st ut- tered, and where Dr. Hooker saw from one point twenty snow-peaks, each over 20,000 feet in height, supporting the blue dome of an horizon that stretched over one hundred and sixty degrees, — and we shall then begin to understand how the view of such a temple might make even a stout heart shiver before the real presence of the infinite.

EIVEES.

Next to the mountains come the waterfalls and rivers. When we speak of a river, there is nothing in reality corresponding to such a name. "VVe see indeed the mass of water which daily passes our dwelling, but we never see the whole river, we never see the same river. The river, however familiar it may seem to us, escapes the ken of our live senses, both at its unknown source and at its unknown end.

Seneca, in one of his letters, says : " We contem- plate with awe the heads or sources of the greater rivers. We erect altai-s to a rivulet, which suddenly and vigorously breaks forth from the dark. We wor- ship the springs of hot water, and certain lakes are sacred to us on account of their darkness and unfath- omable depth."

Without thinking as yet of all the benefits which


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OBJECTS TANGIBLE, SEMI-TAXGIBLE, INTANGIBLE. 171

rivers confer on those wlio settle on their banks, by fertilizing their fields, feeding their flocks, and de- fending them, better than any fortress, against the assaults of their enemies without thinking also of the fearful destruction wroight by a n ver of

the sudden deatli of those yl o s k to ts wive? the mere sight of the to e t the st e n 1 ke stranger coming they k ow not i en e d go g they know not whither, wo 11 hi e 1 en e ngl to call forth in the hearts of tl e ei ly 1 elle so e rtl a feeling that there mu t 1 e so etl g 1 jo d the small speck of earth wh eh thej ciUed th y

their home, that they were s rro le 1 j,ll s des by powers inyisible, infit te o d y e

THE EARTH.

Nothing, again, may seem to us more real than the the earth on which we stand. But when we speak of the earth, as something complete in itself, like a stone, or an apple, our senses fail us, or at least the senses of the early framers of language failed them. They had a name, but what corresponded to that name was something, not finite, or surrounded by a visible horizon, but something that extended beyond that horizon, something to a certain extent visible and manifest, but, to a much greater extent, non- manifest and invisible.

These first steps which primitive man must have made at a very early time, may seem but small steps, but they were very decisive steps, if you consider in what direction they would lead. They were the steps that would lead man, whether he liked it or not, from the perception of finite things, which he could handle, to what we call the perception of things,


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172 OIUKCTS TASGIBLli;, SEMI-TANGIBLE, INTANGIBLE.

not altogether finite, which he couhl neither span with bis fingers, nor with the widest circle of his eyes. However small the steps at first, this sensuous con- tact with the infinite and the unknown g;ive the first impulse and the lasting direction in which man was meant to reach the highest point which he can ever reach, the idea of the infinite and the divine.

SEMI-TANGUSLB OBJECTS.

I call this second class of percepts semi-tangiUe, in order to distinguish them from the first class, which may for our purposes be designated as tangible percepts, or percepts of tangible objects.

This second class is very large, and there is con- siderable difEerenee between the various percepts that belong to it. A flower, for instance, or a small tree, might scarcely seem to belong to it, because there ia hardly anything in them that cannot become the ob- ject of sensuous perception, while there are others in which the hidden far exceeds the manifest or visible portion. If we take the earth, for instance, it is true that we perceive it, we can smell, taste, touch, see, and hear it. But we can never perceive more than a very small portion of it, and the primitive man cer- tainly could hardly form a concept of the earth, as a whole. He sees the soil near his dwelling, the grass of a field, a forest, it may be, and a mountain on the horizon, — that is all. The infinite expanse which lies beyond his horizon he sees only, if we may say so, by not seeing it, or by what is called the mind's eye.

This is no playing with words. It ia a statement which we can verify for ourselves. Whenever we look around us from some high mountain peak, our


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OBJECTS TANGIBLE, SEMI-TASGIBLE, ISTAKGIBLE. 173

eye travels on from crest to eresfc, from cloud to cloud.

We rest, not because there is nothing more to see,

but because our eyes refuse to travel farther. It is

not by reasoning only, as ia generally supposed, that

we know that there ia an endless view beyond ; we

are actually brought in contact with it, we see and

feel it. The very consciousness of the finite power

o£ our perception gives us the certainty of a world

beyond ; in feeling the limit, we also feel what is be- '

yond that limit. \

We must not shrink from translating the facts before us into the only language that will do justice |

to them : we have before us, before our senses, the ;

visible and the tangible infinite. For infinite is not '

only that which has no limits, but it is to us, and it j

certainly was to our earliest ancestors, that also of which we cannot perceive the limits. :

INTANGIBLE OBJECTS. !

But now let us go on. All these so-called semi- tangible percepts can still be verified, if need be, by : some of our senses. Some portion, at least, of every one of them, can be touched by our hands.

But we now come to a third class of percepts where this too is impossible, where we see or hear objects, but cannot strike them with our hands. What is our attitude towards them ?

Strange as it may seem to ns that there should be things which we can see, but not touch, the world is really full of them ; and more than that, the primi- tive savage does not seem to have been very much disturbed by them. The clouds to most people are visible only, not tangible. But even if, particularly in mountainous countries, we reckoned clouds among


174 OBJECTS TANGIBLE, SEJII-TASGIBLK, ISTASGIBLE.

the serai-tangible percepts, there is the sky, there are the stars, and the luooii, and the snn, none of which can ever be touched. This third class I call non-tan- gible, or if I might be allowed to coin such a techni- cal term, intangible percepts.

We have thus, by a simple psychological analysis, discovered three classes of things which we can per- ceive with our senses, but which leave in us three very distinct kinds of impression of reality :

(1.) Tangible objects, such as stones, shells, bones, and the rest. These were supposed to liave been the earliest objects of religious woi-ship by that large school of philosophers who hold fetishism to be the first beginning of all religion, and who maintain that the first impulse to religion came from purely finite


(2.) Semi-tangible objects, such as trees, mountains, rivet's, the sea, the earth. These objects sxipply the material for what I should propose to call semi-dei- ties.

(3.) Intangible objects, such as the sky, the stars, the sun, the dawn, the moon. In these we have the germs of what hereafter we shall have to call by tlie name of deities.

TESTIMONIES OF THE ANCIESTS AS TO THE CHAR- ACXEK OP THEIK GODS. Let US firet consider some of the statements of ancient writers as to what they considered the char- acter of their gods to be. Epicharmos says,^ the gods were the winds, water, the earth, the sun, fire, and the shvrs.


' Stobaeua, Fhril. si


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OBJECTS TANGIBLE, SEMI- TANGIBLE, INTANGIBLE. 175

Prodikos' says that tho ancients considered sun and moon, rivers and springs, and in general all that is uaeful to us, aa gods, as the Egyptians the Nile ; and tliat therefore bread was worshiped as Demeter, wine as Dionysos, water as Poseidon, fire as Heph^s- tos.

Cffisar,^ when giving his view of the religion of the Germans, says that they worshiped the sun, the moon, and the fire.

Herodotus,^ when speaking of the Persians, says that they aaerificed to the sun, the moon, the earth, fire, water, and the winds.

Celsus,* when speaking of the Persians, says that they sacrificed on hill-tops to Dis^ by whom they mean the circle o£ the sky ; and it matters little, he adds, whether we name this being Dis, or " the Most High," Ztu's, or Adonai, or Sahaoth, or Ammon, or with the Scythians, Papa."

Quintus Curtina gives the following account of the religion of the Indians: "Whatever they began to reverence they called gods, particularly the trees, which it is criminal to injure." ^

TBSTIMOSY OF THE TEDA. Let oa now turn to the old hymns of the Veda themselves, in order to see what the religion of the Indians, described to us hy Alexander's companions and their successors, really was. To whom are the hymns addressed which have been preserved to us as


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176 OBJECTS TAKGIBLE, SEMI-TAXGIBLE, IMTAXGIRLE,

the most ancient relics of human poetry in the Aryan ■world? Tliey are addressed, not to stocks ov stones, but to rivers, to mountains, to clouds, to the earth, to the sky, to the dawn, to the sun — that is to say, not to tangible objects or so-called fetishes, but to those very objects which we called semi-tangible, or intaji- gible.

This is indeed an important confirmation, and one that a hundred years ago no one could have looked forward to. For who would then have supposed that we should one day be able to check tlie statements of Alexander's historians about India and the Indiana, by contemporary evidence, nay by a literature, at least a thousand years older than Alexander "s expedi- tion to India?

But we can go still farther ; for by comparing the language of the Arj'ans of India with that o£ the Aryans of Greece, Italy, and the rest of Europe, we can reconstruct some portions of that language which was spoken before these different members of the Aryan family separated.

TESTIMONY OF THE CNniVIDED ARYAN LANGUAGE.

What the ancient Arvans thought about the rivers and mountains, about the earth and the sky, the dawn and the sun, how they conceived what they perceived in them, we can still discover to a certain extent, because we know how they named them. They named them on perceiving in them certain modes of activity with which they were familiar themselves, such as striking, pushing, rubbing, meas- uring, joining, and which from the beginning were accompanied by certain involuntary sounds, graiJu- ally changed into what in the science of Luiguage we call roots. , - .

I ,.ii,L.ooi^lc


OIUKCTS TAXGIBLE, SEMI-TAXGIiSLK, IHTAKGIBLE. 177

This is, so far as I can see at present, the origin of all language and of all thought, aiid to have put this clearly before us, uudismayed by the conflict of divei^nt theories and the authorities of the greatest names, seems to me to constitute the real merit of Nuirti's philosophy.^

ORIGIN or LANGUAGE. Language breaks out first in action. Some of the simplest acts, such as striking, rubbing, pushing, throwing, cutting, joining, measuring, ploughing, weaving, etc., were accompanied then, as they fre- quently are even now, by certain involuntary sounds, sounds at first veiy vagoe and varying, but gradually becoming more and more definite. At fii-st these sounds would be connected with the acts only. Mar, for instance, would accompany the act of nibbing, polishing stones, sharpening weapons, without any intention, as yet, of reminding either the speaker or others of anything else. Soon, however, this sound mar would become not only an indication, say on the part of a father, that he was going to work, to rnb and polish some stone weapons himself : pronounced with a certain unmistakable accent, and accompanied by certain gestures, it would serve as a clear indica- tion that the father meant his children and servants not to be idle while he was at work. Mar! would Deeome what we call an imperative. It would be perfectly intelligible because, according to our sup- position, it had been used from tho first, not by one

1 I have lately twated this aubjecl elsBwhera in an article On tie Origin of Reneon, published in the CaWemporary Retiew of February, 1878, to wliich, as well as to TrofesBor Nnir^'a original works, I must refer fof tiirther detail.

2 See Leclarei oa Ihe Science of Languni/e, vol. ii. p. 347.



173 OliJKCTS TASGIHLE, SEMI-TA.NGIBLE, INTASGICLE.

person only, but by miiny, when engaged in some common occnpation.

After a time, liowever, a, new step would be made. Mar wculd be found useful, not only as an imperative, aildresseil in common to one's self and others (mar, let us work !), but, if it was fonnd necessary to carry stones that hiid to be smoothed, from one place to another, from the sea-shore to a cave, from a chalk- pit to a bee-hive lint, mar would suffice to signify, not only the stones that were brought together to be smoothed and sharpened, bnt likewise the stones which were used for chipping, sharpening, and smoothing. Mar might thus become an imperative sign, no longer restricted to the act, but distinctly referring to the various objects of the art.

This extension of the power of such a sound as mar would, however, at once create confusion ; and this feeling of confusion would natui'aliy bring with it a desire for some expedient to avoid confusion.

If it was felt to be necessarj' to distinguish between via)\ " let us rub our stones," and mar, " now, then, stones to rub?" it could be done in different ways. The most simple and primitive way was to do it by a change o£ accent, by a different tone of voice. This we see best in Chinese and otiier monosyllabic lan- guages, where the same sound, pronounced in vary- ing tones, assumes different meanings.

Another equally natural expedient was to use de- monstrative or pointing signs, what are commonly caUed pronominal roots ; and by joining them to such sounds as mar, to distinguish, for instance, between "rubbing here," which would be the man who rubs, and "i-nbbing there," which would be the stone that is being rubbed.


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OilJECTS TAKGIBLE, SEMI- TANGIBLE, INTAKGIDLE. 179

This may seem a very simple act, yet it was this act wiiich first made man eoiiseions of a difference be- tween subject and object, nay which ovev and above the pereeptiona of a worker and the work done, left in his mind the concept of working as an act, that could be distinguished both from the subject of the act, and from its object or result. This step is the i

i"eal salto mortale from sound expressive of percepts |

to sound expressive of concepts, which no one has i

hitherto been able to explain, but which has become perfectly intelligible through Noir^'s philosophy. The sounds which naturally accompany repeated i

acts, are from the very beginning signs of incipient concepts, i. e., signs of repeated sensations compre- hended as one. As soon as these sounds become i differentiated by accents or other outward signs, so i as to express either the agent, or the instrument, or the place, or the time, or the object of any action, the element common to all these words is neither more nor less than what we are accustomed to call ; the root, the phonetic type, definite hi form, and ex- ' pressive of a general act, and therefore conceptual. '■

These considerations belong more properly to the science of language ; yet we could not omit them here altogether in treating of the science of religion.

EAELY CONCEPTS. If we want to know, for instance, what the ancients thought when they spoke of a nver, the answer is, they thought of it exactly what they called it, and they called it, as we know, in different ways, either the runner (sarit), or the noisy (nadi or dlumi) ; or if it flowed in a straight line, the plougher or the plongh (sirl. river, sira, plough), or the arrow; or if ^

tbstedbyGOOgIC


180 OliJKCIS TASGIIILK, SK:*H-TAXGIULL, INTANGlIiLt.

it Keemed to nourish the fields, tlie mother (m^tar) ; or if it Bepanited and protected one couuti^ fi'om an- otlier, the defender (siiidlin, from sidh, sedhati, to keep off). In all these names you will observe that the rivei- is conceived aa acting. As man mns, so the river runs ; as man shouts, so the river shouts ; us man plonghs, so the river ploughs ; as a man guards, so the river guards. The river is not called at fii'st the plough, but the ploughur; nay even the plough itself is for a long time conceived and called an agent, not a mere iustrnment. The plough is tli« divider, the teai'er, the wolf, and thus shares often the same n;uiie with the burrowing boar, or the tearing wolf,*

EVEEYTHING NASIED AS ACTIVE.

We thus learn to understand how the whole world whi(.>h sui'TOunded the primitive man was assimilated or digested by him, he discoveiing everywhere acts siuiilar to his own acta, and transferring the sounds which originally accompanied his acts to these sur- rounding agents.

Here, in the lowest depths of language, lie the true genna of Avhat we afterwards call figiirism, an- imism, anthropopathism, anthropomorphism. Here we recognize them as necessities, necessities of lan- guage and thought, and not as what they appear to be afterwards, free poetical conceptions. At a time wlien even the stone which he hitd himself sharpened was still looked upon by man as his deputy, and called a cutter, not a something to cut with ; when his measuring rod was a measurer, his plough a tearer, his ship a flier, or a bird, how could it be otherwise than that the river should be a shouter, the mountain

i Vcfka is holli wolf and plougli in llie Veda.


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OBJECTS TAN"GmM:, SEMl-TAXGmr,E, INTANCIKLE. 181

a defender, the moon a measurer? The moon in her, or rather in his daily progi-esa, seemed to measure the sky, and in doing so helped man to measure the time of each I«nation, o£ each moon or month. Man and moon were working together, measuring together; and as a man who helped to measure a field or to measure a beam might be called a measurer, say md-a, from m4, to measure, to make, thus the moon also was calleil mds, the measurer, which is its actual name in Sanskrit, closely connected with Greek /f.ci^, Latin mensh, English moon.

These are the simplest, the most ineyitable steps of langui^e. They are perfectly intelligible, how- ever much they may have been misunderstood. Only let us be careful to follow the growth of human lan- guage and thought step by step.

ACTIVE DOES KOT MEAN HUMAN.

Because the moon was called measurer, or even carpenter, it does not follow that the earliest framers of languages saw no difference between a moon and a man. Primitive men. no doubt, had their own ideas very different from our own ; but do not let us suppose for one moment that they were idiots, and that, because they saw some similarity between their own acta and the acts of rivers, mountains, the moon, the sun, and the sky, and because they called them by names expressive of those acts, they therefore saw no difference between a man, called a. measurer, and the moon, called a measurer, between a real mother and a river called the mother.

When everything that was known and named had to be conceived as active, and if active then as per- sonal, when a stone was a cutter, a tooth, a grinder


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182 OBJECTS TANGIBLE, SEMI-TAKGIBLE, IXTANGIGLK.

or an eater, a gimlet, a borer, thei-e was, no doubt, consiclerable difficulty in dispersonifying, in distin- guishing between a measurer and the moon, in iitu- tralizing words, in producing in fact neuter nouns, in clearly distinguishing the tool from tlio hand, the liand fi'om the man ; in finding a way of speaking even of a stone as something simply trodden under foot. There was no difficulty in figuring, animating, or personifying.

Thus we see how, for our purposes, the problem of personification, which gave so much ti-ouble to for- mer students of religion and mytholf^y, is completely inverted. Our problem is not, how language came to personify, but how it succeeded in dispersonifying.

GRAMMATICAL GBXDEB.

It has generally been supposed that grammatical gender was the cause of personification. It is not the cause, but the result. No doubt, in languages in wliich the distinction of grammatical gender is com- pletely established, and particularly in the later pe- riods of such languages, it is easy for poets to per- sonify. But we are here speaking of much earlier times. No, even in sex-denoting languages, there was a period when this denotation of sex did not yet exist. In tlie Aryan languages, which after- wards developed the system of grammatical gender so very fully, some of the oldest words are without gender. Pater is not a masculine, nor mater a feminine ; nor do the oldest words for river, mounts ain, tree, or sky disclose any outward signs of gram- matical gender. But though without any signs of gender, all ancient nouns expressed activities.

In that stage of liingiiage it was almost impossi-


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OBJECTS TANGIBLE, SEMI-TANGIBLE, INTANGIBLE. 183

b!e to speak of thinga not active, or not personal. Every name meant sometlung active. If calx, the heel, meant the kicker, so did calx, the stone. Tliere was no other way of naming it. If the heel kicked the atone, the stone kicked the heel ; they were both calx. Vi in the Veda is a bii-d, a fiier, but tlie ssime word means also an arrow. Yv^ih meant a fighter, a weapon, and a fight.

A great step was made, however, when it wiis possible, by outward signs to distinguish between the Kick-here and the Kick-there, the Kicker and tlie Kicked, and at last between animate and inanimate names. Many languages never went beyond this. In the Aryan languages a farther step was made by distinguishing, among animate beings, between males and females. This distinction began, not with the introduction of masculine nonns, but with the intro- duction of feminines, i. e., with the setting apart of certain derivative suiiixes for females. By this all other words became masculine. At a still later time, certain forms were set apart for things that were neuter, i. e., neither feminine nor masculine, but gen- erally in the nominative and accusative only.

Grammatical gender, therefore, though it helps very powerfully in the later process of poetical mythology, is not the real motive power. That motive power is inherent in the very nature of lan- guage and thought, Man has vocal signs for hia own acts, he discovers similar acts in the outward would, and he grasps, he lays hold, he comprehends the various objects of his outward world by the same vocal signs. He never dreams at first, because the

^ Calc-E, from^kal, cel-lo; hnel, the Old N. hitl-l; Gr. AiJ for iA.f ,


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184 ORIECTS TAXGII5LE, SBll-TANCIBLF:, I^;iA^'GlBLE.

river is called a defender, that therefore the river has legs, and arms, and weapons of defence ; or that the moon, because lie divides and measures the sky, is a carpenter. Much of this misunderstanding wilt arise at a later time. At present, we move as yet in much lower strata of thought.

AUXILIARY VEEBS.

Wc imagine tliiit language is impossible without sentences, and that sentences are impossible without the copula. This view is both right and wrong. If we mean by sentence what it means, namely, an utterance that conveys a sense, then it is right ; if we mean that it is an iitterance consisting of several words, a subject, and a predicate, and a copula, then it is wrong. The mere impei-ative is a sentence ; every form of the verb may be a sentence. What we now call a noun was originally a kind of sentence, consisting of the root and some so-called suffix, which pointed to something of which that root was predi- cated. So agiiin, when there is a subject and a predicate, we may say that a copula is understood, but the truth is that at first it was not expressed, it was not required to be expressed ; nay, in primitive languages it was simply impossible to express it. To be able to say vtr est bonus, instead of vlr bonus, is one of the latest achievements of human speech.

We saw that the early Arjans found it difficult to speak, that is to think, of anything except as active. They had the same difficulties to overcome, when trying to say that a thing simply is or was. They could only express that idea at first, by saying that a thing did something wliieli they did themselves. Now the most general act of all human beings was


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OBJECTS TAXCIBLE. SEJII-TASGIBLE, IXTAXGIBLE. 18.}

tlie act of breathing, and thtia, where v/e say that things are, they said that things bi-eatlio.

AS, TO BREATHE.

The root as, which still livi^s in our he is, is a \Bvy old root : it existed in its abstraet sunsu previ- ous to the Aryan separation. Nevertheless we know that as, before it could mean to be, meant to breathe,

The simplest derivation of as, to breathe, was as-u, in Sanskrit, breath ; and from it probably asu-ra, those who breathe, who live, who are, and at last, the oldest name for the living gods, the Vedic As-

BHU, TO GROW.

When this root as, to breatlie, was felt to be incon- venient, as applied, for instance, to trees and other things which clearly do not breathe, a second root was taken, iliU, meaning originally to grow, the Greek i^iii-iu, which still lives in our own to he. It was applicable, not to the animal world only, but also to the vegetable world, to everything growing, and the earth itself was called BhAa the growing one.

VAS, TO DWELL.

Lastly, when a still wider concept was wanted, the root vas was taken, meaning originally to abide, to dwell. We find it in Sanskrit vas-tu, a house, the Greek aorv, town, and it still lingers on in the Eng-

1 This Sanskrit nan !■, fhe Zend aha, which in tho Avesla has (he meaii- inss of eonscience and world iaee Danneateter, Ormasd el Ahiiman, p, 4T|. It ahu in Z«nd is u«ed also in the xenae nf lord, it dues not fallciw that therefore oAuivi in Ahara mmda, meant lord, and was formed by a Bec- ondary suffix ra. Zend may hnve assiKiied to oSa two meaning:5, breath mi lord, aa it rtidin the case of mt«, order and onleror. But to assign to



186 OBJECTS TANGIBLE, SEMI-TASGIISLE, INTANGOiLi:,

lish 1 ivm. This could be used of all things which fall neither under the concept of breiithing nor under that of gi-owing. It was the first approiich to an ex- pression of impersonal or dead being. There is, in fact, ii ceiiain analogy between the formation of mas- culine, feminine, and neuter nouns and the introduc- tion of these three auxiliary verbs.

PRISOTIVE ESPBESSIOSr.

Let us apply these observations to the way in which it was possible for the early Aryan speakers to say anytliing about the sun, the moon, the sky, the earth, the mountains, and tlie rivers. When wc should say, the moon exists, the sun is thei'e, or it blows, it i-ains, they could only think and say, the sun breathes (sfiryo asti), the moon grows (ma bhavati), the earth dwells (bhur vasati), the wind or the blower blows (vSyur vS,ti), the rain rains (indra unatti, or vmhS varshati, or sonia/t sunoti).

We are speaking here of the earliest attempts at comprehending and expressing the play of nature, which was acted before the eyes of man. We are using Sanskrit only as an illustration of Jinguistic processes long anterior to Sanskrit. How the com- prehension determined the expression, and bow the various expressions, in becoming traditional, reacted on the comprehension, how that action and reaction produced by necessity ancient mythology, al! these are problems which belong to a later phase of thouglit, and must not be allowed to detain us at present, Oue point only there is which cannot be urged too strongly. Because the early Aryans had to call the sun by names expressive of various kinds of activity, because he was called illuminator or warmer, maker


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OBJECTS TANGIBLE, SEMl-VASGIllLE, l:iTA>;GlBLE. 187

or nouriaher, because they called the moon the meas- urei', the dawn the awaken er, the thunder the roarer, the niin the rainer, the fire the quick runner, do not let us suppose that they believed tliese objects to be human beings, with arms and legs. Evenwlien they still said " the sun is breathing," they novel- meant thjit the sun was a man or at leitst an animal, having lungs and a mouth to breathe with. Our troglodyte ancestors were neither idiots nor poets. In saying " the sun or the nourisheris breathing," they meant no more than that the sun was active, was up and doing, was moving about like ourselves. The old Aryans did not yet see in the moon two eyes, a nose, and a mouth, nor did they represent to themselves the winds that blew, as so many fat-cheeked urchins, puffing streams of wind from the four cornera of the sky. All that will come by and by, but not in these early days of human tho\ight,

LIKENESS, OBIGINALLY CONCEIVED AS NEGATION.

During the stage in which we are now moving, I believe that our Aryan ancestors, so far from animat- ing, personifying, or humanizing the objects, which we described as semi-tangible or intangible, were far more struck by the difference between them and themselves than by any imaginary siuiiJarities,

And here let me remind you of a curious confirma- tion of this theory preserved to us in the Veda. What we call comparison is still, in many of the Ve- dic hymns, negation. Instead of saying as we do. " firm like a rock," the poets of the Veda say, " firm, not a rock ; " ^ that is, tliey lay stress on the dissimi-


y


188 OIIIKCTS TASGIBLi; SKMI-TAXGUiLK, TXT.\XGIIiLE.

larity, in order to make the similarity to be felt. They offer a liymii of praise to the god, not sweet food,' that is, as if it were sweet food. The river is said to come near roaring, not a bull, *'. e., like a bull ; and the Maruts or storm-gods are said ^ to hold their worshipers in their arms, " a father, not the sou," viz., like as a father carries his son in his arms.

Thus the sun and the moon were spoken of, no doubt, as moving about, but not as animals ; the riv- ers were roaring and fighting, but they were not men ; the mountains were not to be thrown down, but they were not warriors ; the fire was eating up the forest, yet it was not a lion.

In ti-anslating such passages from the Veda, we always render na, not, by like ; but it is important to observe that the poets themselves were originally struck by the dissimilarity quite as much, if not more than by the similarity.

STANDING EPITHETS.

In speaking of these various objects of nature, which from the earliest times excited their attention, the poets would naturally use certain epithets more frequently than others. These objects of nature were different from each other, but they likewise shared a certain number of qualities in common; they there- fore could be called by certain common epithets, and afterwards fall into a class, under each epithet, and thus constitute a new concept. All this was pos- sible : let US see what really happened.

We turn to the Veda, and we find that the hymns

Ihiit llieorjginnl Cfmccptinn was, " he, a rock, no; " i. e., Iieiiolaltogelher,


i Rijj-Veda, I. C a Rig-Vpda, I. 3


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OBJECTS TAXCIBLE, SElll-TANGllilJ:, lyiASGIBLE. 189

wliich have been preserved to us are all addressed, according to the views of tLe old Indian tlieologiana, to certain devatds? This word devoid corresponds exactly to our woi-d deity, but in the liymns them- selves devatd never occurs in that sense. The idea of deity lis such had not yet been formed. Even the old Hindu commentators say that what they mean by devatd is simply whatever or whoever is addressed in a hymn, the object of the hymn, while they call rhhi or seer, whoever addresses anything or anybody, the subject of the hymn. Thus when a victim that has to be offered is addressed, or even a sacrificial vessel, or a chariot, or a battle-axe, or a shield, all these are called devatds. In some dialogues which are found among the hymns, whoever speaks is called the rishi, whoever is spoken to is the devatd. Devatd has become in fact a technical term, and means no more in the language of native theologians than the object addressed by the poet. But though the ab- stract term devatd, deity, does not yet occur in the hymns of the Eig-Veda, we find that most of the be- ings to whom the ancient poets of India addressed their hymns were called deva. If the Greeks hail to translate this deva into Greek, tliey would prob- ably use Seos, just as we translate the Greek Btoi by gods, without much thinking what we mean by that term. But when we ask ourselves what thoughts the Vedic poets connected with the word deva, we shall find that they were veiy different from the thoughts expressed by the Greek Seo? or the English god ; and that even in the Veda, the Brsthmanas, the Ai-amyakas and Sutras, the meaning of that word is constantly


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190 OBJECTS TAXCIIiLE, SLJII-TASGIBLE, ISTASGIBLE.

growing and changing. The true me;ining of deva is its liistorj', beginning from its etymology and ending with its latest definition.

Deva^ fi-oni the root div, to shine, meant originally bright; the dictionaries give its meaning as god or divine. Bnt if in translating the hymns of the Veda we always translate deva by dsus, or by god, we sliould sometimes commit a mental anachronism of a thousand yeai'S. At the time of which we are now speaking, gods, in our sense of the word, did not yet exist. They were slowly struggling into existence, that is to say, the concept and name of deity was passing through the first stages of its evolution. " In contemplation of created things men were ascendijig step by step to Gorl." ^ And this is the reiil value of the Vedic hymns. While Hesiod gives us, aa it were, the past history of a theogony, we see in the Veda the theogony itself, the very birth and growth of the gods, I. e., the birth and growth of the words for god ; and we also see in later hymns — later in character, if not in time — the subsequent phases in the devel- opment of these divine conceptions.

Kor is deva the only word in the Veda which, from originally expressing one quality shared in common by many of the objects invoked by the Rishis, came to be used at last as a general term for deity. Vasu, a very common name for certain gods in the Veda, niesvnt likewise originally bright.

Some of these objects stiiick the mind of the eariy poets as unchangeable and nndecaying, while every- thing else died and crumbled away to dust. Hence they called them amarla, ajx/ipin-^.^, not dying, agara, ayi'ipioi, not growing old or decaying.

1 Broivn, Bionyjuit Mutk, i. p. ;


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OBJECTS TAKGIDLK, SEMI-TANGICLE, 1ST.\SGIBLE. 191

When the idpa had to be expressed, that sneli ob- jects as tlie sun or tlie sky were not only unchange- able, nndeeaying, undying, wliile everything else, even animals and men, changed, decayed, and died, but tliat tliey had a real life oE tlieir own, the word asura was used, derived, as I have little doubt, from asu, breath. "While deva, owing to its origin, was restricted to the hright and kindly appearances of nature, asura was under no audi restriction, and was therefore, from a very early time, applied not only to the beneficent, but also to the malignant powers of nature. In this word amra, meaning originally en- dowed with breath, and afterwards god, we might recognize the first attempt at what has sometimes been called animism in Uter religions.

Another adjective, ishira, had originally much the same meaning as asura. Derived from I'sA, sap, strength, quickness, life, it was applied to several of the Vedic deities, particularly to Indra, Agni, the Aevius, Maruts, Adityas, bnt likewise to sucli objects as the wind, a cliariot, the mind. Its original sense of quick and lively crops out in Greek lipo~, Ixdv^, and Upor fiti-iK,^ wliile its general meaning of divine or sacred in Greek must be accounted for like the mean- ing of asura, god, in Sanskrit.

TANGIBLE OBJECTS AMOSS THE VEDIC DEITIES. To return to our three classes of objects, we find tlie first hardly represented at all among the so-called deities of the Rig- Veda, Stones, bones, shells, herbs, and all the other so-ciUed fetishes, are simply absent in the old hymns, though they appear in more mod-

I The identifj- of itpfe with ishira wR? dipcovcrod by Kiilin, ^cilschri/t,


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192 OBJECTS TAXGIBLL, SEMI- TAX GIBLE, ISTAXCIBLE.

em hymns, particularly those of the Atlmrva-Veda. When artificial objects are mentioned mul celebrated in the Rig-Vedii, they are only sucii as might be praised even by Wordsworth or Tennyson — chariots, bows, quivei-s, ases, drums, sacrificial vessels, and sim- ilnr objects. They never assume any individual char- acter, they are simply mentioned as useful, as pre- cious, it may he, as sucred.*

SEMI-TANGir.I^E 0TiJi:CT3 AMOXG THE VKDIC DEI- TIES.

But when we come to the second class, the case is very different. Almost every one of the objects which vre defined as semi-tangible meets ns among the so- called deities of the Veda. Thus we read Rig- Veda 1.90,6-8: —

" The winds pour down honey upon the rigliteous, the rivers pour down honey ; may our plants be sweet," 6.

" May the night be honey, and the dawn ; may the sk}' above the earth be full of honey ; may heaven, our £;ithei', be honey ; " 7.

1 II liAS been stated tliat ufeiiMIs or iiistni merits never become felishes; Bee Kapp, GrMBrftmieB rfcr Pkihirplik dtr Ttdmili, 18T8, p. 104, He quotes Caspari, UrgeKlikhie der Memcliheil, i. 309, in support oE his Efalement. In H. Spencer's Piiaeipki of Sodologi), i. 343, we read jnsl the contrarj*: "In India the woman adores the bastet wliioh seems lo liring or to hold her necesBiiiies,iuid offers sacrifices tn it; as iveil as llie

cnrpenter does the lilie homage to his hatchet, his adz, and his other tools; and likewise offers sacrilices to them. A Brahman does so to the style with which he is going to vrritc ; a soldier to the arms he is to use in the field ; B maEion to his trowel." Tiiia statement of Duhois would not carry much conviction. But a much more ixnipetent authority, Mr. Lvall, in

husbandman pray to liis p1ou(;h, the tisher to his net, the wearer to Ilia loom ; but the scribe adores his pen, and the banker his account boohs." The question only is, What is meant here by adoring?


db,


OBJECTS TANGIBLE, SEMI-TANGIBLl;, IXTASGIBLE. 193

" May our trees be full of honey, may the auii ba full of honey ; may our cows be sweet ; " 8.

I have translated literally, and left the word madhu, which means honey, but which in Sanskrit has a much wider meaning. Honey meant food and drink, sweet food and sweet drink ; and hence refreshing rain, water, milk, anything delightful was called honey. We can never translate the fullness of those ancient words ; only by long and careful study can we guess how many chords they set vibrating in the minds of the ancient poets and speakers.

Again, Rig- Veda X. 64, 8, we read : —

" We call to our help the thrice-seven running riv- ers, the great water, the trees, the mountains, and fire."

Rig- Veda VII. 34, 23. " May the mountains, the waters, the generous plants, and heaven, may the earth with the trees, and the two worlds (rodasi), protect our wealth."

Rig-Veda VII. 35, 8. " May the far-seeing sun rise propitious, may the four quarters be propitious ; may the firm mountains be propitious, the rivers, and the water,"

Rig-- Veda III. 54, 20. " May the strong mountains hear ns."

Rig- Veda V. 46, 6. " May the highly-praised mountains and the shining rivers shield us."

Rig- Veda VI. 52, 4, " May the rising dawns pro- tect me ! May the swelling rivera protect rae I May the firm mountains protect rae! May the fathers protect me, when we call upon the gods ! "

Rig- Veda X. 35, 2, " We choose the protection of heaven and earth ; we pray to the rivers, the mothers, and to the grassy mountains, to the sun and


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Idi OBJKCTS TANGIBLE, SEMI-TAKGIBLE, ISTASCIBLE.

tbe dawn, to beep ua from guilt, Miiy the Soma juice bring us healtli and wealth to-da,y ! "

Lastly, one more elaborate invocation of the rivers, and ehii'Hy of the rivers of the Penjdb, whose bor- ders form the scene of the little we know of Vedic history: —

Kig-Veda X. 75. " Let the poet declare, O waters, yfiur excet-'ding greatness, here in the seat of Vivas- vat. By seven and seven they have come forth in tliree courses, but the Sindhn (Indus) exceeds all the other travelers (rivera) by her strength ;" 1.

" Varnna dug out a path for thee to walk on, when tliou rannest for the prizes. Thou proeeedeat on a precipitous ridge of the earth, when thou art lord in the van ot all moving streams ; " 2.

" The sound rises up to heaven above the earth ; she raises an endless roar with sparkling splendor. As from a cloud, the showers thunder forth, when the Sindhu comes, roaring like a bull ; " 3.

" As mothers go to their young, the lowing cows (rivers) come to thee with their milk. Like a king in battle tiiou leadest the two wings, when thou readiest the front of these down-rushing rivei-s ; " 4.

"Accept, O Gang^ (Ganges), Yamun^ (Jumna), Sarasvati (Sui-suti), iSutudri (Sutlej), Parushni (Ravi), my praise! With the Asikni (Akesines), listen O Marudvrz'dh^, and with the Vitast^ (Hy- diispes, Behat), O Ar^kiy^, listen with the Sus- homa. ! " 5.

" First united with the Trt'shf^mS, for thy journey, with the Susartu, the RasS, and the lyveti, thou goest, O Sindhu, with the KubhS (Kophen, Cabul river), to the Gomati (Gomal), with the Mehatnu to the Krumu (Kurum), that thou mayest proceed with them on the same path;"6. (~(>Oolr


OBJF.CTS TANGIBLE, SEMI-TANGIRLE, INTANGIBLE. 195

" Sparkling, bright, with mighty splendor she car- ries tlie clouds across the plains, the unconqiiered Sindliu, the quickest of the quick, like a beautiful mare, a sight to see ; " 7-

" Rich in horses, in chariots, in garments, in gold, in fodder, in wool, and in grass, the Sindhu, hand- some and young, spreads over a land that is flowing with honey ; " 8.

" The Sindhii has yoked her easy chariot with horees ; may she conquer booty for ua in this fight I For the glory of that irresistible, famous, and glorious chariot is celebrated as great ; " 9.

I have chosen these invocations out of thousands, because they are addressed to what are still perfectly intelligible beings, to semi-tangible objects, to semi- deities.

The question which we have to answer now is this ; Are these beings to be called gods ? In some passages decidedly not, for we ourselves, though we are not polytheists, could honestly join in such lan- guage as that the trees, and the mountains, and the rivers, the earth, the sky, the dawn, and the sun may be sweet and pleasant to us.

An important step, however, is taken when the mountains, and the rivers, and all the rest, are in- voked to protect man. Still even that might be in- telligible. We know what the ancient Egyptians felt about the Nile, and even at present a Swiss patriot might well invoke the mountains and rivers to pro- tect him and his house against foreign enemies.

But one step follows another. The mountains are asked to listen ; this, too, is to a certain extent intel- ligible still ; for why should we address them, if they were not to listen ? ,„, ,„,, u.




190 OBJECIS TANGIBLE, SLMI-TAKGIBLl", IXTASGIBLE.

The sun is called far-seeing — why not ? Do we not see tiie fii«t rays of the rising sun, piercing through the darkness, and glancing every morning at onr roof ? Do not these rays enable us to see ? Then, why should not the sun he called far-lighting, far-glancing, far-seeing ?

The livers are called mothers ! Why not ? Do they not feed the meadows, and the cuttle on them ? Does not our very life depend on the rivers not fail- ing us with their water at the proper season ?

And if the sky is called " not a father," or " like a father," or at hist father, — does not the sky iivateh over us, protect us, and protect the whole world ? Is there anything else so old, so high, at times so kind, at times so terrible as the sky ? ^

If all these beings, as we call them in our language, devas,^ bright ones, as they were often called in the language of our forefathers, were implored to grant

1 We seldom meet iritti writers who defend their belief in llie powtM of Dtttnra against tlie atCaclis of believers in one aupreme God; nay, it is difliGuU for ui to Imagine how, when the idea of one God hns once been realized, a faith In independent deities cnuld still be sustained. Tet such pnsBnees exist. Celsus, whoever hs was, the author of the True Story, irhieh we know as quoted and refuted by Origen, distinctly defends the Greek polytlieiani against ths Jewish or Chriatian monotJieism: "The Jews," be writes. " profess to venerate the heavens and the inhabitants of the heavens; but the grandest, the most sublime, of tho wonders of tboes high regions thej will oot vnnerate. They adore the phantasm of the dark, the obscure visions of their sleep; bat for those bright and shining

mer warnith, the clouds and the lightnings and the thmiders, the fruits of the earth and all living things are generated and preserved, those beings


1 tho Upanishads dera is used in the sense of forces or faoulties ; the i are frequently called devas, also the pranas, the vital spirits. DevatS, imetitnes most be translated by a, being ; cp. £Aand. Up. 6, 3, 3 leq,

Hoaedb,


OBJECTS TASGIBLT;, SEMI-TASCIELK, ISTAXGIE!,E. 197

honoy, that is joy, food, happiness, we are not start- led ; for we too know there are blessings proceeding from all of thorn.

The first prayer that sounds really strange to us is when they are implored to keep us from guilt. This is clearly a later thought ; nor need we suppose, beeanse it comes from the Veda, that all we find there belongs to one and the same period. Though the Vedic hymns were collected about 1000 b. c, they must Lave existed for a long, long time before they were collected. There was ample time for the rich- est growth, nor must we forget that individual genius, such as finds expression in these hymns, frequently anticipates by centuries the slow and steady advance of the main body of the great army for the conquest of truth.

We have advanced a considerable way, though the steps which we had to take were simple and easy. But now let us suppose that we could place ourselves face to face with the poets of the Veda, even with those who called the rivers mothers, and the sky father, and who implored them to listen, and to free them from guilt; what would they say, if we asked them whether the rivers, and the mountains, and the sky were their gods 9 I believe they would not even understand what we meant. It is as if we asked children whether they considered men, horses, flies, and fishes as animals, or oaks and violets as vege- tables. They would certainly answer. No ; because they had not yet arrived at the higher concept which, at a later time, enables them to comprehend by one grasp objects so different in appearance. The con- cept of gods was no doubt silently growing up, while men were assuming a more and more definite attitude




198 OBJECTS TANGIBLE, SElII-TAN'GiBLE, INTANGIBLE.

towards these senii-taiigible and intangible objects. The search after the intangible, after the unltnown, which was hidden in all these semi-tangible objects, had begun as soon as one or two more of our per- ceptive tentacles were disappointed in titeir search after a corresponding object. Whatever was felt to be absent in the fnll reality of a perception, which full reality naeant perceptibility by all five senses, was taken for granted, or looked for elsewhere. A world was thus being built np, consisting of objects perceptible by two senses, or by one sense only, till at last we approach a world of objects, perceptible by none of our senses, and yet acknowledged as re:il, nay hs conferring benefits on mankind in the same manner as trees, rivers, and mountains.

Let us look more closely at some of the interme- diate steps which lead as from semi-tangible to intan- gible, from natural to supernatural objects : and first ihefire.

THE riRE.

Now the fire may seem not only very visible, but also very tangible; and so, no doubt, it is. But we must forget the fire as we know it now, and try to imagine what it was to the early inhabitants of the earth. It may be that, for some time, man lived on earth, and began to form his language, and his thoughts, without possessing the art of kindling fife. Even before the discovery of that art, however, which must have marked a complete revolution in his life, he iiad seen the sparks of lightning, he had seen and feit the light and warmth of the sun, he may have watched even, in utter bewilderment, the violent de- struction of forests by conflagration, caused either by lightning or friction of trees in summer. In all these

[lo.ledL.GoOl^lc


OBJECTS TANGIBLE, SEMI-TASGIBLE, INTAMGIBLE. 199

appeamnces and disappearances there was some- thing extremely perplexing. At one moment the fire was here, at another it had gone out. Whence did it come ? Whither did it go? If there ever was a ghost, in our sense of the word, it was fire. Did it not come from the clouds ? Did it not vanish in the sea ? Did it not live in the sun? Did it not travel through the stars ? All these are questions that may sound childish to us, but which were very natural be- fore men had taught fire to obey their commands. And even after they had learnt to produce fire by friction, they did not understand cause and effect. They saw the sudden appearance of what we call light and heat. They felt fascinated by it, they played with it, as children are fascinated by it even now, and will play with fire, whatever we say. And when they came to speak and think of it, what could they do? They could only call it from what it did, and so they spoke of the fire as an iHuminator or a burner, who seemed to be the same as the burner in a flash of lightning, or the illuminator in the sun. Men were struck most by his quick movements, his sudden appearance and disappearance, and so they called him the quick or ag-ile, in Sanskrit Ag-nis, in Latin ig-nis.

So many things could be told of him, how that he was the son of the two pieces of wood ; how, as soon as he was born, he devoured his father and mother, that is, the two pieces of wood from which he sprang; how he disappeared or became extinguished, when touched by water ; how he dwelt on the earth as a friend ; how he mow^ed down a whole forest ; how at a later time he carried the sacrificial offerings from earth to heaven, and became a messenger and media-



200 OBJECTS TANGIBLE, SEIII-TAXGIBLE, IXTAXGIBLE.

tor between the gods and men : that we need not wonder at his many names and epithets, and at the iarge nuinher of ancient stories or myths told of Agni ; nor need we wonder at the oldest of all myths, that there was in the fire something invisible and nnknown, yet \indeniahle, — it may be, the Lord.


Next to the fire, and sometimes identified with it, comes the snn. It differs from all the objects hitherto mentioned, by its being altogether beyond the reach of the senses, except the sense of sight. What position the sun must have occupied in tlie thonghta of the early dwe-Ilers on earth, we shall never be able to fully nnderstand. Not even the most recent scientific discoveries described in Tyn- dall'a genuine eloquence, which teach us how we live, and move, and have our being in the sun, how we burn it, how we breathe it, how we feed on it — give us any idea of what this source of light and life, this silent traveler, this majestic ruler, this departing friend or dying hero, in his daily or yearly course, was to the awakening consciousness of mankind. People wonder why so muoli of the old mythology, the daily talk, of the Aryans, was solar: what else could it have been ? The names of tlie sun are end- less, and so are his stories ; but who he was, whence he came and whither he went, remained a mystery from beginning to end. Though known better than anything else, something in him always remained un- known. As man might look into the eye of man, trying to fathom the deep abyss of his soul, and hop- ing at last to reach his inmost self, — he never finds it, never sees or touches it, — yet he always believes


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OBJECTS TAKGIBLE, EEJII-TANGIBLE, ISTANGIBLE. 201

in it, never doubts it, it may be he reveres it and loves it too ; so man looked up to the sun, yearning for the response of a son!, and though that response never came, though his senses I'ecoiled, dazzled and blinded by an effulgence which he could not support, yet he never doubted that the invisible was there, and that, where his senses failed him, where he could neither gi-asp nor comprehend, he might still shut his eyes and trust, fail down and worship.

A very low race, the Santhals in India, are sup-^ posed to worship the sun. They call the sun Chando, which means bright, and is at the same time a name for the moon also, probably the Sanskrit fi'andra. They declared to the missionaries who settled among them, that Chando had created the world ; and when told that it would be absurd to say that the sun had created the world, they replied with. " We do not mean the visible Chando, but an invisible one."^

THE DAWN. The dawn was originally the dawning sun ; the twilight, the setting sun. But after a time these two manifestations became differentiated, giving rise to an abundant wealth of story and myth. By the side of dawn and evening, we soon have day and night, and their various dual representatives, the Dioskou- roi, in Sanskrit the two Asvinau, the twins, also sky and earth, and their manifold progeny. We are, in fact, in the very thick of ancient mythology and re- ligion.


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202 OBJECTS TAKGIULE, SOI I- TANGIBLE, ISTASGIBLE.


AUDIBLE OBJECTS AMOHG THE VEDIC DEITIfiS.

All tlie intangible objects wliieli we Lsive hitberto considered were broiiglit near to ns, and could all be tested by the sense of sight. We liuve now to con- sider others, which are brought ni=:ir to lis by the sense of hearing only, wJiile they \vithi.h-a\v them- selves from all other senses.^

THUNDER.

We hear the noise of thunder, but we cannot see the thunder, nor can we feel, smell, or taste it. An impersonal howl or thunder, which satisfies us conid not be conceived by the ancient Ai-yans. When they heard the thunder, they spoke of the thnnderer, just as when they heard a howling noise in the for- est, they thought at once of a howler, of a lion or something else, whatever it might be. An imper- sonal howl did not exist for them. Here, therefore, we have, in the name of thunderer or howler, the first name of some one who can never be seen, but yet whose existence, whose awful power for good or evil, cannot be doubted. In the Veda that thun- derer is called Rudra, and we may well understand how, after such a name had once been created, Rudra or the howler should be spoken of as wielding the thunderbolt, as carrying bows and arrows, as strik-

1 Thus Xenophon says (Jfem. iv. 3, 14)i "Consider also thatthesiin,

cunilely, but takes away the eyesight, iF any one tries to stare at him. Sou vi II also find that the miniatera of the j^ods are invisible. For it is dear that the liglitning is sent from atwve and overcnmes ail that is in its way ; hut it is not seen whilo it comes, niiiie it strikes, or \ih\h it goes away. Nor are the winds seen, though what tfaey do is clear to ns, and we perceive them approachinK." See, also, Minuciua Felix, as quoted by Feuerbflcli, Wfsea der Selij/ion, p. Hi.


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OBJECTS TANGIBLE. SEMI-TANGIBLE, INTASGICLE, 203

ing down the wiuked and sparing the good, as bring- ing light after darkness, refreshment after heat, health after sickness. In fact, after the iirst leaflets have opened, the further growth of the troe, however rapid, need not surprise us.

THE WIND.

Another precept, which chiefly depends on our sense of touch, though frequently supported by the evidence of our ears, and indirectly of our eyes, is the wind.

Here, too, early thought and speech do not dis- tinguish as we do, between the blower and the blast. Both are one, both are something like ourselves. Thus we find in the Veda hymna addressed to Vdi/u, the blower, and to Vdta, the blast, but this too as a mascniine, not as a neuter. Though the wind is not often praised, he too, when he is praised, holds a very high position. He is called the king of the whole world, the first-born, the breath of the gods, the germ of the world, whose voices we hear, though we can never see hiui.^

MAKUTAS, THE STOBM-GODS.

Besides the wind, there is the storm, or as they are called in the Veda, the Maruts, the ponnders, the strikers, who come rushing on like madmen, with thnnder and lightning, whirling up the dust, bending and breaking the trees, destroying dwellings, killing even men and cattle, rending the mountains and breaking in pieces the rocks. They too come and go, but no one can catch them, no one can tell whence and whither ? Yet who would doubt the existence of these storm-gods? Who would not bow down

1 HifT Veila X. 108,


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£04 ORJECTS TANGIBLE, SEMI-TASGIRLF., INTANGIBLE.

before tbem, or cveii propitiate them, it may be, either by good words, or good thoughts, or good deeds? "They can pound us, we cannot pound tbeni," this feeHng, too, contained a germ of religious thought ; nay, it is a lesson which even in our days would perhaps be better understood by many than Schleiemiacber's consciousness of absolute dependence on something which, though it determines us, we cannot determine in turn. Need we wonder, there- fore, at the growth of another old myth, that, as in the fire, so in the wind, there was something invisible, unknown, yet rnideniable, — it may be.the Lord.

THE -RATS AND THE RAINEE. Lastly, we have to consider the rain. This, no doubt, seems hardly to come under the category of intangible objects; and if it were simply considered as water, and named accordingly, it would seem to be a tangible object in every sense of tlie word. But early thought dwells more on differences than on similarities. Rain to the primitive man is not simply water, but water of which he does not yet know whence it conies ; water which, it it is absent for a long time, causes the death of plants and animals, and men ; and when it returns produces a very jubilee of nature. In some countries the howler (the thunderer), or the blower (the wind), were conceived us the givers of rain. But in other coun- tries, where the annual return of rain was almost a matter of life or death to the people, we need not wonder that, by the side of a thunderer and blower, a rainer or irrigator should have been established, In Sanskrit the drops of rain are called ind-u.^

1 Cf. sfiidliH and bidhrA, inan.iii and ii:nudr!i, ripi Rad i-i'prn, etc.


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OnJl-CTS TAXGIBLE, SEJll-TASClULK, ISTAKGIBLE. 205

masculine themselves; he who sends them is called Xnd-ra, the rainer, the irrigator, and in the Veda the name of the principal deity, worshiped by the Aryan settlers in India, or the land ol the Seven Rivers.

VKDIC PANTHEON.

We have thus seen how the sky, originally the light-giver, the ilhiminator of the world, and for that reason called Dyaus, ov Ztu's, or Jupiter, might be replaced by various gods who represent some of the principal activities of the sky, such as thunder, rain, and storm. Besides these, there was, if not the activity, yet the capacity of covering and protecting the whole world, which might likewise lead to the conception of a covering, all-embracing god, in place of the sky, as a mere firmament. In that capacity the covering god might easily merge into a god of night, opposed to a god of day, and this might again give rise to 'a concept of correlative gods, represent- ing night and day, morning and evening, heaven and eartli. Kow every one of these changes passes before our eyes in the Veda, and they give rise to such pairs of gods as Varnwa, the all-embracing god, the Greek oipavo^, and Mitra, the bright sun of day ; the Asvinau, morning and evening ; Dy^vapT-ithivi, heaven and earth, etc.

We have thus seen, rising as it were before our eyes, almost the whole pantheon of the poets of the Veda, the oldest pantheon of the Aryan world. We have watched the germa only, hut we can easily im- agine how rich their growth would be, if once exposed to the rays of poetry, or to the heat of philosophic speculation. We have learnt to distinguish three chisses of deities or goda : I use the wl


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206 OBJECTS TAXGIBLE, SKMI-TAXGIBLK, IXTAXGIBLE.

there is no other ; beings, powers, forces, spirits, being all too iibstraet.

(1.) Semi-deities, such as trees, mountains, and rivers, the earth, the sea (semi-tangible objects).

(2.) Deities, such as the sky, the sun, the moon, the dawn, the fire (intangible objects) ; also thnuder, lightning, wind, and rain, though tiie hwt four, owing to their irregular appearance, might be made to con- stitute a separate class, assuming generally the char- acter of preeminently active or dramatic gods,

THE DEVAS. No word seems more incongruous for all these beings than gods and deities. To use our own word for god in the plural, is itself a logical solecism, as if we were to speak of two centres of a circle. But, apart from this, even deities, or the Greek deol, the Latin dii, is an anachronism. The best would be to retain the Sanskrit word, and call them devas, Deva, as we saw, meant originally bright, and it wiis an epithet applicable to the fire, the sky, the dawn, the sun, also to the rivei-s, and trees, and mountiiina. It thus became a general term, and even in the Veda there is no hymn so ancient that deva does not dis- play in it already the first traces of the general con- cept of bright, heavenly beings, opposed on the other side to the dark powers of the niglit and of winter. Its etymological meaning becoming forgotten, deva 'became a mere name for all those bright powera, and the same word lives on in the Latin deus, and in our own deity. There is a continuity of thought, as there is of sound, between the devas of the Veda and " tho divinity that shapes our ends."


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OBJECTS TANGIBLE, SEMI-TANGIBLK, IXTAKGIBLE. 207


THE VISIBLE AND THE INVISIBLE.

We have thus seen, what I wished to show you, a real transition from the visible to the invisible, from the bright beings, the Devas, that could be touched, like the rivers, that could be heard, like the thunder, that could be seen, like the sun, to the Devas or gods that could no longer be touched, or Iieard, or seen. We have in such words as deva or deus the actual vestiges of the steps by which our ancestors proceeded from the world of sense to the world beyond the grasp of the senses. The way was traced out by nat- ure herself; or if nature, too, is but a Deva in dis- guise,' by something greater and higher than nature. That old road led the ancient Aryans, as it leads us still, from tlie known to the unknown, from natiire to nature's God.

But, you may say, " that progress was unjustified. It may lead us on to polytheism and monotlieism, but it will eventually land all honest thinkers in atheism. Man has no right to speak of anything but acts and facts, not of agents or factors."

My answer is : " True, that path led the Vedic Aryans to polytheism, monotheism, and to atheism; but after the denial of the old Devas or gods, they did not rest till they found what was higher than the gods, the true Self of the world, and at the same time, their own true Self. As to ourselves, we are not difEerent from the old Aryans. We, too, must postulate an agent when "we see an act, a factor when we see a fact. Take that away, and facts themselves are no longer fatts, acts are no longer acts. Our


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208 OBJKCTS TASGIIiLE, SEMl-TAKGIBLE, IXTASGIBLE.

whole language, that is our whole thought, our whole being, rests on that conviction. Take that away, and the eyes o£ our friends lose their responsive power, they are glass eyes, not sunny eyes. Take that away, and our own self vanishes. We, too, are no longer agents, hut only acts; machines without a motive power, beings without a self.

No, that old road on which the Aryans proceeded from the visible to the invisible, from the finite to the infinite, was loiig and steep ; but it was the right road, and though we may never here on earth reach the end of it, we may trust it, because there is no other road for us. From station to station man has advanced on it farther and farther. As we mount higher, the world grows smaller, heaven comes nearer. With each new horizon our view grows wider, our hearts grow larger, and the meaning of our words grows deeper.

Let me quote the words of one of my best fnends, whose voice not long ago was heard in Westminster Abbey, and whose living likeness, as drawn by a lov- ing hand, will be present before the minds of many of my hearers: "Those simple-hearted forefathers of ours — so says Charles Kingsley — looked round upon the earth, and said within themselves, ' Where is tlie All-father, if All-father there be ? Not in this earth; for it will perish. Nor in tlie snn, moon, or stars ; for they will perish too. Where is He wlio ahideth forever ? ' ,

"Then they lifted up their eyes, and saw, as they thought, beyond sun, and moon, and stars, and all which clianges and will change, the clear blue sky, the boundless firmaraenfc of heaven.

"That never changed ; that was always the same.


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OBJECTS TAXGIBi.K, SEMl-TASGIM.E, INTAKGIBLE. 209

The clouds and storms rolled far below it, and all the bustle of this noisy world ; but there the sky was still, as bright and calm as ever. The All-father must be there, unchangeable in the unchanging heaven ; bright, and pure, and boundless like the heavens ; and, like the heavens too, silent and far off."

And how did they call that All-father?

Five thousiind yeai's ago, or it may be earlier, the Aryans, speaking as yet neither Sanskrit, Greek, nor Latin, called him I>i/u patar, Heaven-father.

Four thousand years ago, or it may be earlier, the Aryans who had traveled southward to the rivers of the Penjah called liim Ifyaushrpitd, Heaven -father.

Three thousand years f^o, or it may be earlier, the Aryans on the shores of the Hellespont called him ZtiJ? naTqp, Heaven-father.

Two thousand years ago, the Aryans of Italy looked up to that bright heaven above, hoc suUtme candens, and called it Ju-piter, Heaven-father,

And a thousand years ago the same Heaven-fa- ther and All-father was invoked in the dark forests of Germany by onr own peculiar ancestors, the Teutonic Aryans, and his old name of Tiu or Zto was then heard, perhaps, for the last time.

But no thought, no name, is ever entirely lost. And when we liere in this ancient Abbey, which was built on the ruins of a still more ancient Roman tem- ple, if we want a name for the invisible, the infinite, that surrounds us on every side, the unknown, the true Self of the world, and tiie true Self of ourselves — we, too, feeling once more like children, kneeling in a small dark room, can hardly find a better name than : " Our Father, which art in Heaven."


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V. THE IDEAS OF INFINITY AND LAW.


NIHIL IN FIDE QUOD NON ANTE FUEEIT IN SENSU.

EVEEY day, every week, every month, every quar- ter, the iiKist widely read joumala seem just now to vie with each other in telling us that the time for re- ligion is past, that faith is a hallucination or an infan- tine disease, that the gods have at last been fonnd out and exploded, that there is no possible knowledge ex- cept what comes to us through oui" senses, timt we must be satisfied with facts and finite things, and stiike out such words as infinite, supernatunil, or di- vine fiom the dictionary of the future.

It is not my object in these lectures either to defend or to attack any fonn of religion : there is no lack of hands for eitlier the one or the other task. i\Iy own work, as I have traced it out for myself, and as it seemed to be traced out for me by the spirit of the founder of these lectures, is totally diffiei'ent. It is historiciil and psychological. Let tlieologians, be they Brahmawas or ^raraanas, Mobeds or Mollahs, Rabbis or Doctors of Divinity, try to determine whether any given religion be perfect or imperfect, true or false ; what we want to know is, how religion is possible ; how human beings, such as we are, came to Jiave any religion at all ; what religion is, and how it came to be what it is.

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THE IDEAS OF INFISITY AND LAW. 211

When we are engaged in the science of language, our first object is, not to find out whether one lan- guage is more perfect than another, whether one con- tiiins more a.nomalous nouns or miraculous verba than another. We do not start with a conviction that in the beginning there was one language only, or that there is at present, or that there will be in the future, one only that deserves to be called a language. No : we simply collect facts, classify them, try to under- stand them, and thus hope to discover more and more tiie real antecedents of all language, the laws which govern the growth and decay of human speech, and the goal to wiiich all language tends.

It is the same with the science of religion. Each of us may have his own feeling as to his own mother- tongue, or his own mothev-religion ; biit as histonana we must allow the same treatment to all. We have simply to collect all the evidence that can be found on the history of religion all over the world, to sift and classify it, and thus to tiy to discover the neces- sary antecedents of all faith, the laws which govern the growth and decay of human religion, and the god to which all religion tends. Whether there ever can be one perfect universal religion, is a question as diffi- cult to answer as whether there ever can be one per- fect univei'sal language. If we can only learn that even the most imperfect religion, like the most im- perfect language, is something beyond all conception wonderful, we ahail have leanit a lesson which is worth many a lesson in the various schools of theology.

It is a very old saying, that we never know a thing unless we know its beginnings. We may know a great deal about religion, we may have read many of tho sacred books, the creeds, the catechisms, and liturgies


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212 THE IDEAS OF INFINITY AND LAW.

of tlie world, and yet religion itself may be something entirely beyond our grasp, unless we are able to trace it back to the deepest sources from whence it


springs.

In doing this, in trying to discover the living and natural springs of religion, we must tahe nothing for granted, except what is gninted us by all philosophers, whether positive or negative, I explained in my first lecture how I was quite prepared to accept their terms, and I mean to beep to these terms to the very end of my course. We were told that all knowledge, in order to be knowledge, must piiss through two gates aud two gates only ; the gate of the senses and the gate of reason. Religious knowledge also, whether true or false, must have passed throiigii these two gates. At these two gates, therefore, we take our stand. Whatever claims to have entered in by any other gate, whether that gate be called primeval rev- elation or religious instinct, must be rejected as con- traband of thought j and whatever claims to have en- tered by the gate of reason, without having first passed through the g-ate of the senses, must equally be rejected, as without sufficient warrant, or ordered at least to go back to the first gate, in order to pro- duce there its full credentials.

Having accepted these conditions, I made it the chief object of my lectures to lay hold of religious ideas on their passing for the first time through the gates of our senses ; or, in other words, I tried to find out what were the sensuous and material beginnings of those ideas which constitute the principal elements of religious thought.

I endeavored to show, first of all, that the idea of the infinite, which is at the root of all religious


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TIIF, IDKAS 01^ INFINITY AND LAW, 213

thought, is not simply evolved by reason out of noth- ing, but supplied, to us, in its original form, by our senses. If tlie idea of the infinite had no sensuous pei'cept to rely on, we should, according to the terms of our agreement, have to reject it. It would not be enough to say with Sir W. Humilton, that the idea of the infinite is a logical necessity ; that we are so made that wherever we place the boundary of space or time, we are conscious of space and time beyond. I do not deny that there is truth in all this, but I feel bound to admit that our opponents are not obliged to accept such reasoning.

I therefore tried to show that beyond, behind, be- neath and witliin tlie finite, the infinite is always present to our senses. It presses upon us, it grows upon us from every side. What we call finite in space and time, in form and word, is nothing but a veil or a net which we ourselves have thrown over the infinite. The finite by itself, without the infinite, is simply inconceivable ; as inconceivable as the infinite without the finite. As reason deals with the finite materials, supplied to us by our senses, faith, or what- ever else we like to call it, deaJs with the infinite that underlies the finite. What we call sense, reason, and faith, are three functions of one and the same percep- tive self; but without sense both reason and faith are impossible, at least to human beings like ourselves.

The history of the ancient religion of India, so far as we have hitherto been able to trace it, is to us a history of the various attempts at naming the infinite that hides itself behind the veil of the finite. We saw how tlie ancient Aryans of India, the poets of the Veda, first faced the invisible, the unknown, or the infinite in trees, mountains, and rivers; in the


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214 THK ira:A.s of ixfixity and law.

dawn and the snii ; in the fire, the storm-wind, and the thunder; how they ascribed to all of them a self, a substance, a divine support, or whatever else we like to call it; and how, in doing so, Uiey always felt the presence of something which they could not see behind what they could see, of something super- natural beliind the uatunil, of something super-iinite 01' infinite behind or within the finite. The uauios wliich they giive, the nomina, may have been wrong : but the search itself after the numina was legitimale. At all events, we saw how that search led the ancient Aryans as far aa it has led most amongst ourselves, viz., to the recognition of a Father which is in heaven. Nay, we shall see that it led them farther still. The idea that God is not a father, then, U?ce a fatJier, and lastly a father, appeare in the Veda at a very early time. In the very first hymn of the Rig- Veda, which is addressed to Agni, we read : " Be kind to us, as a father to his son." The same idea occurs again and ;igain in the Vedic hymns. Thus we read. Rig- Veda I. 104, 9, " Hear us, Indra, like a father ! " In III. 49, 3, the poet says that Indra gives food, heai^s our call, and is kind to us, like a father. In VII. 54, 2, Indra is asked to be kind, as a fatlier to his sons. Again, Rig- Veda VIII. 21, 14, we read: " When thou thunderest and gatherest the clouds, then thou art called like a father." Rig-Veda X. 33, 3, " As mice eat their tails, sorrows eat me np, me thy worshiper, all-powerful god ! For once, O mighty Indva, be gracious to us ! Be to us like a father ! " Rig-Veda X. 69, 10, " Thou borest liim as , a father bears his son in his lap." Rig- Veda III. 53, 2, " As a eon lays hold of his father by his skirt, I lay hold of thee by this sweetest song." In fact.


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THE IDEAS OF IKFINITY AND LAW. 215

there are few nations who do not apply to their god or gods the name of Father.

But thongh it was a comfort to the early Aryans in the chiklliood of their faith, as it is to us in the faith of our childhood, to call God father, they soon per- ct^ived that this too was a human name, and that, like all ]iuman names, it said but little, compared with what it was meant to say. We may envy our aneient foi'efathers, as we envy a child that lives and dies full of faith that he is going from one home to another borne, from one father to another father. But as every child grows up to learn that his father is but a child, the son of another father ; as many a child, on becoming a man, has to surrender one idea after an- other that seemed to form the veiy essence of father, so the ancients learnt, and we all of us have to learn it, that we must take out of that word father one pred- icate after another, all in fact that is conceivable in it, if we wish to apply it still to God. So far as the word is applicable to man, it is inapplicable to God ; so far as it is applicable to God, it is inapplicable to man. " Call no man your father upon the earth : for one is your Father, ■which is in heaven." Matt. xxiii. 9. Comparison, as it began, so it often ends with negation. Father is, no doubt, a better name than fire, or the storm-wind, or the heaven, or the Lord, or any other name which man has tried to give to the infinite, that infinite of which he felt the pres- ence everywhere. But father too is but a weak hu- man name, the best, it may be, which the poets of the Veda could find, but yet as far from him whom they were feeling after as the east ia from the west.

Having watclied the searchings of the ancient Ar- yans after the infinite in every part of nature, and


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216 THE IDEAS OF iXFINJTY ASD LAW.

having tried to understand the namt'a wliich they gave to it, beginning with trees and rivers and mount- ains, and ending witli their Heaven-father, we have now to consider the origin of some other ideas which, at first, might seem completely beyond the reach of our senses, but ■which nevertheless can be shown to have had their deepest rools and their true begin- nings in that finite or natural world which, it is diffi- cult to say why, we are so apt to despise, while it has been everywhere aiid is still the only royal road that leads us on from the finite to the infinite, from the natural to the supernatural, from nature to nature's God.

THEOGO:^Y OF THK VEDA. By imagining ourselves pluced suddenly in the midst of this marvelous world, we try to find out what would be the objects most likely to have started, to have fascinated, to have awed our earliest forefathers; what won Id have roused and awakened them from mere staring and solid wonderment, and have set them for the first time musing, pondering, and thinking on the visions floating past their eyes. And having done that, we tried to verify our antici- pations by comparing notes with the poets of the Veda, in whose songs the most ancient records of religious thought are preserved to us, at least so far as that branch of humanity is concerned to which we ourselves belong. No doubt, between the fiist day- break of human thought and the fii^st hymns of praise, composed in the most perfect metre and the most polished language, there may be, nay there must be, a gap that can only be measured by generations, by hundreds, aye by thousands of years. Yet such is the continuity of human thought, if once controlled


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THE IDEAS OF ISFISITY AKD LAW. 217

by human language, that, on carefully examining the Vedic hymns, we found most of our anticipations realized, far beyond what we had any right to ex- pect. The very objects which we had singled out as moat likely to impress the mind with the sense that they were something more than what couhl be seen, or heard, or felt in them, hai:l reiilly served, it we might trust the Veda, as " the windows through which the ancient Aryans first looked into infini- tude.

THE INFINITE IN ITS EARLIEST CONCEPTION.

When I say infinitude, do not let us take the in- finite in its quantitative sense only, as the infinitely small or the infinitely great. Though tliis is perhaps the most general concept of the infinite, yet it is at the same time the poorest and emptiest. To the an- cient Aryans the aspect of the infinite varied with the aspect of eiich finite object of which it, the infin- ite, was the ever present background or complement. The more there was of the visible or audible or tan- gible or finite, the less there was of the invisible, the inaudible, the intangible, or the infinite in the con- sciousness o£ man. As the reach of the senses varied, 60 varied the suspicion of what might be beyond their

The concept, for instance, of a river or a mountain would require far less of invisible background than the concept of the dawn or the storm-wind. The dawn approaches every morning, but what it is, and whence it comes, no one can tell. " The wind blow- eth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh and whither it goeth." It was easy to understand the


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218 THE IDEAS OF ISl'INITr AND LA«".

raTages caused by the inundation of a river or by the fall of a mountain ; it was more diificnlt to under- stand what causes the trees to bend before the ap- proach of a huiTicane, and who it is tliat, during a dark thundei'-storm, breaks asunder the mouutaius and overthrows the stables and huts.

The so-called semi-deities, therefore, which always remained to a great extent within the reach of the senses, seldom assumed that dramatic character which distinguishes other deities; and among those deities, again, those who were entirely invisible, and had nothing in nature to represent them, such as Indra, the rainer, Rudra, the howler, the Marnts, the pound- ers or storm^ods, even Varuna, the all-embracer, would soon assume a far more personal and mytho- logical aspect than the bright sky, the dawn, or the son. Again, what constitutes the infinite or super- natuKil character of all these beings, would at once be clothed in a simply human form. They would not be called infinite, hut rather in conquerable, imperish- able, undecaying, immortal, unborn, present every- where, knowing everything, achieving every tiling, and at the veiy last only should we expect for them names of so abstract a nature as infinite.

I say, we should expect this, but I must say at the same time that this expecting attitude is often very dangerous. In exploring new strata of thought, it ia always best to expect nothing, but simply to collect facts, to accept what we find, and to try to digest it.

ADXTI, THE INlflNITE,

You will be surprised, for instance, as I certainly was surprised when the fact first presented itself to me, that there really is a deity in the Veda who is


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THE IDEAS OF KFINITY AND LAW. 219

simply called the boundless or the infinite, in San- skrit A-diti.

Aditi is deiived from diti, and the negative par- ticle a. Diti, again, is regularly derived from a root DA (dyati), to bind, from whicli dila, the participle, meaning bound, and diti, a substantive, meaning binding and bond. Aditi, therefore, must originally have meant without bonds, not chained or inclosed, boundless, infinite, infinitude. The same root shows itself in Greek Sew, I bind, SiuSijpo, a diadenj, that is bound round the head. The substantive diti would in Greek be represented by 8sV«, a-diti by a-Setn;.

It is easy to say that a deity, having such a name as Aditi, the infinite, must be of late origin. It is much wiser to try to learn wliat is, than to imagine what must be. Because the purely abstract concept of the infinite seemed modern, several of our most learned Vedic students have at once put down Aditi as a late abstraction, as being invented simply to ac- count for the name of her sons, the well-known Adit- yas, or solar deities. From the fact that there are no hymns entirely addressed to her, they have con- cluded that Aditi, as a goddess, came in at the very last moments of Vedic poetry.

The same might be said of Dyaus, a name corre- sponding with the Greek Ztw. He occurs even less frequently than Aditi amongst the deities to whom long hymns are addressed in the Veda, But so far from being a modern invention, we know now that he existed before a word of Sanskrit was spoken in India, or a word of Greek in Greece ; that he is in fact one of the oldest Aryan deities, who at a later time was crowded out, if I may use that expression, by Indra, Rodra, Agni and other purely Indian gods.


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THE IDliAS OF ISFIXITY AMD LAW.


ADITI KOT A 5I0DERN DEITY.

The same, I believe, is the ease with Ailiti. Her name occurs in invocations together with Dyaus, the sky, Prithvi, the earth, Siiidhu, the rivers, and other really primitive deities; and fiir from lieiiig a purely hypothetical mother of the Adityas, she is represented as the mother of all the gods.

In order to understand this, we must try to find out what her own birthplace was, what conld have suggested the name of Aditi, the boundless, the infin- ite, and what was the visible portion in nature to which that name was originally attached.

NATUItAL ORIGIN OP ADITI.

I believe that there can be little doubt that Aditi, the boundless, was one of the oldest names of the dawn, or, more correctly, of that portion of the sky from whence every morning the light and life of the world flashed forth.

Look at the dawn, and forget for a moment your astronomy ; and I ask you whether, when the dark veil of the night is slowly lifted, and the air becomes transparent and alive, and light streams forth, you know not whence, you would not feel that your eye, sti-etchmg as far as it can stretch, and yet streteliing in vain, was looking into the very eye of the infinite ? To the ancient seers the dawn seemed to open the golden gates of another world, and while these gates were open for the sun to pass in triumph, their eyes and their mind strove in their childish way to pierce beyond the limits of this finite world. The dawn came and went, but there remained always behind the dawn that heaving sea of light or fire from which she


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THE miCAS OF INFISITV AXl) LAW. 221

springs. Was not this the viKible infinite? And what better name could be given than that which the Vedic poets gave to it, Aditi, the boundless, the yon- der, the beyond all and eveiything ?

Thus, I believe, we can understand how a deity, which at first seemed to us so abstract as to have no birthplace anywhere in nature, so modern that we could hardly believe in its occurrence in the Veda,, may have been one of the earliest intuitions and crea- tions of the Hindu mind.^ In later times the bound- less Aditi may have become identified with the sky, also with the earth, but originally she was far beyond the sky and the earth.

Thus we read in a hymn ^ addressed to Mitra and VaruHa, representatives of day and night, " O Mitra and Varuwa, you mount your chariot wirieh, at the dawning of the dawn, is golden-colored and has iron poles at the setting of the sun : ^ from thence you see Aditi and Diti " — that is, what is yonder and what is here, what is infinite and what is finite, what is mor- tal and what is immortal.*

Another poet speaks of the dawn as the face of Aditi,^ thus indicating that Aditi is here not the dawn itself, but something beyond the dawn.

As the sun and all the solar deities rise from the east, we can well understand how Aditi came to be

1 I have trenled fully of AdUi in the Rig-Veda, in my translation of the Rig-Veda Sanhitil, vol. i. pp. 230-251. Tliete is an excellent ess^ay by Dr. Alfred Hillebrandt, &berdie GSttin Adki, 1876. He (p. 11) derives the word from did, " to bind," bat prefers to explain Aditi hy imperish- ableness, and guaniA against the idea that Aditi eould mean omnipresenl;.

« Rig-Veda, V. 62, 8.

  • The contrast between the light of the morning and the evening soemn

expressed bv the color of the two metals, gold and iron.

  • Rig-Veda, I. 35, 2.

s Ibid. I. 113, 18, liditer Snikain.


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222 THE iDKAS OF I^'l■7^;ITY and law.

called the mother of the bright gods, and more par- ticularly of Mitra and Vanma (Rig- Veda, X. S6, 3), of Arj'amaii and Bhaga, and at last of the seven, or even eight so-called Adityas, that is. the sohiv deities, rising from the east. Sui^a, the sun. is called not only Aditya (Rig- Veda, VIII. 101, 11, hat mahan asi siirya, bai ^itya mah3.n asi, " Truly, Surya, tlioa art great; triily, Aditj'a, thou art great") ; but also Aditeya (Rig-Veda, X. 88, 11).

It was, 110 doubt, the frequent mention of these her sons that gave to Aditi almost from the beginning a decidedly feminine character. She is the mother, with powerful, terrible, with royal sons. But there are passages where Aditi seems to he coneei^'ed as a male deity, or anyhow as a sexless being.

Though Aditi is more closely connected with the dawn, yet slie is soon invoked, not only in the morn- ing, but likewise at noon, and in the evening.^ Wlien we read in the Atharva-Veda, X. 8, IG : " That whence the sun rises, and that where he sets, that I believe is the oldest, and no one goes beyond," we might almost translate " the oldest " by Aditi. Aditi soon receives her full share of veneration and worship, and she is implored, not only to drive away darkness and the enemies that lurk in the dark, btit likewise to deliver man from any sin which he may have com- mitted.

DARKNESS AND SIN.

These two ideas — darkness and sin — which seem to us far apart, are closely connected witli each other in the minds of the early Aryans. I shall read you some extracts to show how often one idea, the fear of enemies, evokes the other, the fear of sin, or what


g-Veda, V. S9, 3.


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THE IDEAS OF INFINITY AND LAW. 223

we should call our worst enemy. "O Adityas,^ de- liver U9 from the moutli oE the wolves, like a bound thief, O Aditi ! " " May Aditi ^ by day protect our cattle, may she, who never deceives, protect by nigiit ; may she, with steady increase, protect us from evil," (AMiliasa^ literally, from anxiety, from choking pro- duced by the consciousness of sin.) "And may she, the wise Aditi, come with help to us by day ! may she kindly bring happiness, and drive away all ene- mies ! "

Or again : ^ " Aditi, Mitra, and also Varuna, for- give, if we have committed any sin against you ! May I obtain the wide feiirless light, O ludra I May not the long darkness come over us ! " " May Aditi grant us sinlessness ! " *

One other idea seems very naturally to have spning up from the concept of Aditi. Wlierever we go, we find that one of the earliest imaginings of a future life arose from the contemplation of the daily coming and going of the sun and otlier heavenly bodies.^ As we still say, "his sun has set," they said and believed that those who departed this life would go to the west, to the setting of the sun. The snn was sup- posed to be born in the morning and to die in the evening ; or, if a longer life was given to him, it was the short life of one year. At the end of that the gun died, as we still say, the old year dies.

IJIJIORTALITY.

But by the side of this conception another would spring up. As light and life come from the east, the


5 H, Spencer, Sociology, i. p. 221.


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224 THE IDEAS OF IKFISITY AND LAW.

east, among many o£ tlie nations of antiquity, was looked upon as tlie abode of the bright gods, the eter- nal home of the immortals ; and when the idea had once arisen that the departed or blessed among men joined the company o£ the gods, then they also might be transferred to the east.

In some snch sense we see that Aditi is called " the birthplace of the immortals ; " and in a similar sense one of the Vedic poets sings : ^ " Who will give us back to the great Aditi ; that I may see father and mother ? " Is not this a beautiful intimation of im- mortidity, simple and perfectly natural ; and i£ you look back to the steps which led to it, suggested by the ordinary events of every-day life, interpreted by the unassisted wisdom of the human heart?

Here is the great lesson which the Veda teaclies us ! All our thoughts, even the apparently most abstract, have their natural beginnings in what passes daily before our senses. Nihil in fide nisi quod antefuerit in sensu. Man may for a time be uuheedful of these voices of nature ; but they come again and again, day after day, night after night, till at last they are lieeded. And if once heeded, those voices disclose their purport more and more clearly, and what seemed at first a mere sunrise, becomes in the end a visible revelation of the infinite, while the setting of the sun is transfigured into the first vision of immor- tality.

OTHER EBI.IGIOUS IDEAS IS THE VEDA.

Let US examine one more of those ide;ia which to us seem too abstract and too artificial to be ascribed to a very early stratum of human thought, but which,

1 Rig-Veda, I. 2-i, I.


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THE IDEAS OF IXFIXITY AND LAW. 225

if we m.iy judge from the Veda, had risen in the human heart at the very first burst of its intellectual spring-tide. I do not mean to make the Veda more primitive than it is. I know full well the intermin- able Tista of its antecedents. There is ring within ring in the old tree, till we can count no longer, and are lost in amazement at the long, slow growth of hu- man thought. But by the side of much that sounds recent, there is much that sounds ancient and primi- tive. And here we ought, I think, to learn a lesson from archeology, and not try to lay down from the beginning a succession of sharply divided periods ,of thought. For a long time archtcologists taught that there was first a period of stone, during which* no weapons, no tools of bronze or iron, could possibly occur. That period was supposed to be followed by the bronze period, where the graves might yield both bronze and stone implements in abundance, but not a single trace of iron. Lastly, we were told, came the third period, clearly marked by the prevalence of iron instruments, which, when they had once been introduced, soon superseded both stone and bronze workmanship aitogetlier,

This theory of the three periods, with their smaller subdivisions, contained no doubt some truth, but be- ing accepted as a kind of archEeological dogma, it im- peded for a long time, like all dogma, the progress of independent observation ; till at last it was discovered that much in the successive or contemporaneous use of the metals depended on local conditions, and that where mineral or palustric or meteoric iron existed in an easily accessible form, iron implements might be found and were found together with atone weap- ons, and previous to bronze workmanship.


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22G THE IDEAS OF INFINITY AXD LAW.

Tliis ought to be a warning to ns against our pre- conceived theories as to the succession of intellectual peiiods. There are in the Veda thoughts as rnde and crude as any paleolithic weapons, but by the side of them, we find thoughts with all the sharpness of iron and all the brilliancy of bronze. Are we to say that the bright and brilliant thoughts must be more modern than the rudely chipped flints that lie by their side ? They luay be, but let us remember who tlie workman is, aud that there has been genius at all times, and that genius is not bound by years. To a niau who has faith in himself and in the world around him, one glance is as good as a thousand ob- servations; to a true philosopher, the phenomena of nature, the names given to them, the gods who rep- resent them, all vanish by one thought like the mist of the morning, and he declares in the poetical lan- guage of the Veda, " There is but One, though the poets call it by many names," Ekam sat vipru hahu- dlut vadanti.

No doubt, we may say, the many names of the poets must have come first, before the philosophers could discard them. True, but the poets may have continued for ages invoking Indra, Mitra, VaruMa, or Agni, while at the same time the philosophers of India protested, as Herakleitos protested and pro- tested in vain, against the many names and the many templos and tlie many legends of the gods.

THE IDEA or LAW'. It has often been siiid that if there is an idea which we look for in vain among savage or primitive peo- ple, it is the idea of law. It would be difficult to find, oven in Gieek and Latin, a true rendering of


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THE IDEAS OF INFINITY AXD LAW. 227

" the reign of law " once chosen as the title of an importsmt book by the Duke of Argyll. And yet that idea, in, its first baif-conscious form, is as old as almost anything in the Vedi Mucli b-is been writ- ten of late of unconscious ceiebiation and n st e\ i accounts ba^e bcfu ^npn of it let tbeie I great deal of mental w ik going on which we may call unconscious tiz a.11 mentd woik thxt his not yet found express on in Ung i igt. The ben^^es ^ on receiving tho isinds of impiess ons most ot wl h pass unheeded, and -leem wiped it f re^ei from tl e tablets of our meraorj 13 it nothing is e%er really wiped out, the very law of the conservation of force forbids it. Each impress leaves its mark, and by frequent repetition these marks accumulate until, from faint dots, they grow into sharp lines, and in the end determine the whole surface, the light, and shade, aye the general character, of our mental land- Thus we can understand that while the great, and at first overpowering phenomena of nature were ex- citing awe, terror, admiration, and joy in the human mind, there grew up by the daily recurrence of the same sights, by the unerring return of day and night, by the weekly changes of the waning and increasing moon, by the succession of the seasons, and by the rhythmic dances of the stars, a feeling of relief, of rest, of security — a mere feeling at first, as difficult to expi-ess as it is s^ill to express iu French or Italian " our feeling at ho.[ne," a kind of uncon- scious cerehi-ation, if you like, but capable of being raised into a concept, as socfn as the manifold per- ceptions which made np thajt feeling could be com- prehended, and being comprehended could be ex- pressed in conscious languaj;e. f c^oolf


228 THE IDEAS OF INFIMTY AN"D LAW.

This feeling has found expression in various waya among tlie early philosophers of Greene and Rome, What did Heraideitos^ mean when he said, "The sun or Helios will not overstep the bounds" (ra /lETpa), i. e., the path measured out for him ; and what if he said the Erinya, the helpers of right, would find him out if he did ? Nothing can show more clearly tJidt he had recognized a law, pervading all the works of nature, a law which even Helios, be he the sun or a solar deity, must obey. This idea proved most fer- tile in Greek philosophy; as for religion, I believe we can trace in it the first germ of the Greek nioira or fate.

Though we cannot expect to meet with any very ancient and original thoughts among the philoso- phers of Rome, yet I may quote here a well-known saying of Cicero's, containing a very true applica- tion of the thought indicated by Herakleitos : Cicero says ^ that men were intended, not only to eonteni- ptate the order of the heavenly bodies, but to imitate it in the order and constancy of their lives ; exactly what, as we shall see, the poets of the Veda tried to express in their own simple language.

Let us ask now again, as we did when looking for the first genns of the concept of the infinite, what could have been the birthplace of the idea of order, measure, or law in nature ? What was its first name, its first conscious expression ?

I believe it was the Sanskrit Rita, a word which sounds like a deep key-note through all the chords of the religious poetry of India, though it has hardly


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THE IDEAS Of IKFINITY AND LAW. 229

ever been mentioned by writers on the ancient relig- ion of the Bruiimans.^

THE SANSKRIT RITA.

Nearly nil the gods have epithets applied to them, which are derived from this Rita,, and which are meant to convey the two ideas, first, that the gods founded the order of nature, and that nature obeys their commands ; secondly, that there is a moral law which naan must obey, and for the transgression of which he is punished by the gods. Such epithets are far more important, as giving us an insight into the religion of ancient India, than the mere names of the gods, and their relation to certain phenomena in nat- ure; bnt their accurate understanding is beset with many difficulties.

The primary, secondary, and tertiary meanings of such words as .Bi'ta occur sometimes in one and the same hymn ; the poet himself may not always have distinguished very clearly between them ; and few interpreters would venture to do for him what he has not done for himself. When we speak of law, do we always make it quite clear to ourselves what we mean by it ? And can we expect that ancient poets should have been more accurate speakers and thinkers than modern philosophers ?

No doubt, in most places where JZita occurs, a vague and general rendering of it, such as law, order, sacred custom, sacrifice, may pass unchallenged ; but if we look at any of the translations of the Vedic hymns, and ask ourselves what definite meaning we can connect with these high-sounding words, we shall

' Ludwig, AnachauBTigen des Veda, p. 16, haa given tUe best account of RlXi.

dty


230 THr: IDEAS OF IXFISITY ASD LAW.

often feel tempted to sbiit up the book in iJespair. If Agiii, the god of iire, or some other soljif deity is called "the first-born of divine truth," what possible idea c;m such a traiishitiou convey ? Fortunately, there ia a sufficient number of passages left in which JiitB, occurs, and which enable us to watch the grad- ual growth of the word and its meanings.

ilnch, no doubt, in the reconstruction of such an- cient buildings must of necessity be conjectured, and I offer my own ideas as to the original foundation of the word jRita and the superstructures of later peri- ods, as HO more than a guess and a first attempt.

THE ORIGINAL JIEANISG OF A/TA.

^tta, I believe, was used originally to expi'i^ss the settled movement of the sun, and o£ all the heavenly bodies. It is a participle of the verb Ri, which may convey the sense either of joined, fitted, fixed ; or of gone, the going, the path followed in going. I my- self prefer the second derivation, and I recognize the same root in another word, Nir-rz'ti, litenilly going away, then decay, destruction, death, also tlie place of destruction, the abyss, and in later times (like Anri'ta), the mother of Naraka, or hell.

The going, the procession, the gi-eat daily move- ment, or the path followed eveiy day by the sun ■from his rising to his setting, followed also by the dawn, by day and night, and their various represen- tatives, a path which the powers of night and dark- ness could never impede, would soon be reji'arded as the right movement, the good work, the straight path.^

It was not, however, so much the daily movement,

1 Rig-Vtdi, VII. 40, 4.


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THE IDEAS OF IXFIXITY AXD LAW, 231

or the path which it followed, as the original direc- tion which determined it, the settled point from which it started and to which it returned, that be- came most prominent in the thonghta of the Vedic poets when speaking of Ritn. Hence they speak of the path of Mit-A, which we can only translate by the right path ; but which to them was the path deter- mined by that unknown power which they had tried to grasp by the name of Rita,.

If you remember how Aditi, the boundless, was at first meant for the east, which every morning seemed to reveal an endless distance beyond the sky from which the sun arose for his daily course, you will not be surprised to find that the Rtt-a,, the place or the power which determines the path of the sun, should occasionally in the Veda take the pla«e of Aditi, As the dawn was called the face of Aditi, we find that the sun is called the bright face of Rita. ; ^ nay, we find invocations in which the great i?ita* occupies a place next to Aditi, and heaven and earth. The abode of Rita, is evidently the east,^ where, accord iiig to a very ancient legend, the light^bringing gods are supposed every morning to break open the dark cave, tlie hiding-place of the robber, and to bring forth the cows,* that is to say, tlie days, each day being conceived as a cow, walking slowly from tlio dark stable across the bright pasture-ground of the earth and the sky. When that imagery is changed, and the sun is supposed to yoke his horses in the morning and to run his daily course across the world, then ^j'ta is called the place where they unharness

1 Ris-Veda, VI. 51, 1. ' Ibid. X. fifl, i. ' Ibid. X. 6B, 4.

  • Sometimes these eowa seem to be meant also tor the clouds carried oft

from the visible sky to the dark abyss beyond the horizon.



232 THE IDEAS OF ISFIXITY ASD LAW.

Lis horses.^ SometlmeB it is said thiit the dawns dwall in tlie abyss of iJe'ta,^ and many stories are told, how either the dawns were recovered, or how the dawn herself assisted Indva and the other gods in recovering the stolen cattle, or the stolen ti'easure, hidden in the dark stable of the night.

STOEY or SARAJIA.

One of the best known stories was that of Indra, who first sent Saram^, the peep of day, to find out where the cows were hidden. When Sarania had heard the lowing of the cows, she returnee! to tell Indra, who then gave battle to the robbers, and brought forth the bright cows. This Saram^ was afterwards represented as the dog of Indra, and the metronymic name given to her sons, Savameya, hav- ing by Professor Knhn been identified with Heiv meias, or Hermes, was one of the fii-st indications to point out to comparative mythologists the right path (the panth^ rj'tasya) into the dark chambers of an- cient Aryan mythology. Well, this Saramil, this old pointer of tlie dawn, is said to have found the cows, "by going on the path of Rita, the right path, or by going to the ^ita, the right place." ^ One poet says : " When Sacam^ found the cleft of the rock, she made the old great path to lead to one point. She, the quick-footed, led the way; knowing the noise of the imperishable (cows or days), she went first towards them" (Kig-Veda, III. 31, 6).

In the pi-eceding verse, the very path which was followed by tlie gods and their companions, the old poets, in tlieir attempts to recover the cows, i, e., day-


1 EiK-Ved, 3 Ibid. V.


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THE IDEAS OF ISHSITY AND LAW. 233

light, is called the path of the Hitu ; but in another place it is said that Imira and his friends tore Vala, the robber or his cave, to pieces, after finding out the _Sita, the right place. ^

That right, immovable, eternal place is likewise mentioned when a -^ov orS ia looked for from which the gods could have firmly established both heaven yiid eavtli. Thus Varuna is introduced as saying, " I supported the sky in the seat of Rita, ; " ^ and later on, RHa, like Satya, the true, is conceived as the eternal foundation of all that exists.

The path of _Kita oeeui-s again and again as fol- lowed by the dawn, or the sun, or day and night, and the only way in which we can generally translate it is the path of right, or the right path.

Thus we read of the dawn : ^ —

"She follows the path of ^I'ta, the right path; as if she knew them before, she never oversteps the re- gions."

" The dawn,* who ia born in the sky, dawned forth on the right path ; she came near, revealing her gi-eat- ness. She drove away the evil spirits, and the un- kindly darkness."

Of the sun it is said : ^ —

" The god Savitri toils on the right way, the horn of the RitA is exalted far and wide ; the Rita, resists even those who fight well."

When tlie sun rises, the path of Rita, is said to be surrounded with rays,^ and the same thought which was uttered by Herakleitos, "Helios will not over- step the bounds," finds expression in a verse of the 1 Rig- Veda, X. 138, I. = Ibid. IV. 43, i.

« Ibi4. 1. 124, 3; ef. V. 80. 4. * Ibid. VI[. T6, 1.

« Ibid. Vlil. 8(1, 5; X. aa, 4; VII. «, 5.


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234 THE IDEAS OF ISFINITV AXD LAW.

Rig- Veda: " Surya does not injure the appointed pke«a." 1 Tliia path, which ia here called the path of Mit'A, is in other places called the broad walk,^ gatu ; and like Jiita, this g&ta also, the walk, finds aome- timea a place among the ancient deities of the morn- ing,^ It is evidently the same path on which day and night are said to travel in turn,* and aa that path varies from day to day, we alao heai' of many paths which are traveled on by the Asvinau, day and night, and similar deities."

Another important feature is that this path, which is commonly called the path of ^j'ta, ia sometimes spoken of as the path which King Varujia, one of the oldest Vedic gods, made for the sun to follow (I. 24, 8} ; for we thus begin to undci-stand why what in some places is called the law of Vavujci ia in others called the law of Bit-A ; how, in fact, VaruKa, the god of the all-enihi'Jicing sky, could sometimes be supposed to have settled and determiniKl what in other places ia called the Rita., as an independent power.

When it had once been recognized that the gods overcame the powers of darkness by following the straight path or the path of right, it was but a small step for their worshipers to pray that they also might be allowed to follow that right path. Thus we read : ^ " O Indra, lead us on the path of Itita, on the right path over all evils."

Or, " May we, Mitra and Varuna, on your path

I Rig-Veda, in. 30, 12; cf. I. 123, 9; 124, 3. 2 rbi,i. J. LT,, 2.

» Ibid. III. 31, 15. Indta produced togelher the sun, the diuvn, the walk, and Agni. 1 Ibid, 1.113,3. 6 Ibid. VIII. 22, 7.

» Ibid. I. 123, 3, 9, varunasva dhama and rila^va dbSnia. I Ibid. X, 133, 0.


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THE IDEAS OK INFINITY AND LAW. ^rfD

of right, cros3 over all evils, as one crosses the waters in a ship."^ The same gods, Mitra and Varuwa, are said to proclaim the praises of the great Sita.^ An- other poet says : " I follow the path of Rita, well." * Evil-doers, on the contrary, are said never to cross the path of ^(ta.^

fl/TA, THE SACRIFICE.

If we remember how many of the ancient sacrifices in India depended on tlie course of the sun, how there were daily sacrifices at the rising of the sun, at noon, and !it the setting of the sun ; ^ how there were offer- ings for tlie full moon and the new moon, while other saci-ificea followed the three seasons, and the Imlf- yearly or yearly progress of the aun ; we may well understand how the sacrifice itself came in time to be called the path of ^i'ta.'^

At last Jtit'A assumed the meaning of law in gen- eral. The rivers, which in some places are said to follow the path of fli'ta,' are spoken of in other hymns as following the Bitii or law of Varuna. There are many more meanings or shades of mean- ing conveyed by ^i'ta, which, however, are of less importiuice for our purpose. I have only to add that as EitA came to express all that ia right, good, and true, so Anrita was used to express whatever is false, evil, and untrue.

1 Big-Veda, VII. 65, 3.

B Ibid. X. 66, 13.

E Manii, IV. 26, 2B.

6 Rig-Veda, I. 12S, 2; X. 31, 3; TO, 2 ; 110, 2\ •

I Ibid. II. 28, 4; I. 105, 12 ; VIII. 12, 3.


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THE IDEAS OF INFINITY A^■D LAW.


THE DEVELOPMENT OF RITA. I do not know whether I Iiaye succeeded in giving you a cleai' idea of this Mita. in the Vedii, how it meant originally the firmly established movement of the world, of the sun, of morning and evening, of day and night ; how the spring of that movement was localized in the tar East ; how its manifestation was perceived in the path of the heavenly bodies, or, us we should say, in day and night ; and how that light path on which the gods brought light out of dark- ness became afterward the path to be followed by man, partly in his saerifices, partly in his general moral conduct.^ You must not expect in the devel- opment of these ancient conceptions too much accu- racy and definitenesB of thought. It was not there, it could not be there, and if we attempt to force those poetical imaginings into the various categories of rig- orous thonght, we shall only break their wings and crush out their sonl : we shall have the dry bones, but no flesh, no blood, no life.

DIPFrCULTY OF TRANSLATIKG. The great difficulty in all discussions of this kind arises from the fact that we have to transfuse thought from ancient into modern forms. In that process some violence is inevitable. We have no word so pliant as the Vedic liitu, so full of capability, so ready to reflect new shades of thought. All we can do is to find, if possible, the original focus of thought, and then to follow the various directions taken by

1 Tbere is a Eimilsr clevolopnienC to be observe*) in Che Hebrew jisJiii, straight, ttom 3shat In go fonvard, a toot wliith has supplied some mytli- ical germs ii: Hebrew also. See Guldziher, Afylhohgy among the Hebrew, p. 133.

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THE IDEAS OF INl'-LMTY AND LAW, 237

the rays that proceeded from it. This is wliat I have endeavored to do, and if in so doing, I may Beeni to " have put a new garment upon an old," all I can say is that I see no other way, unless we all agree to speak not only Sjinskrit, but Vedic Sanskrit.

A great English poet and philosopher has lately been much blamed for translating the old Hebrew belief in a personal Jehovah into a belief "in an eternal power, not ourselves, that makes for right- eousness." It has been objected that it would be im- possible to find in Hebrew an expression for so ab- stract, so modern, so purely English a thought as this. This may be true, liut if the ancient poets of the Veda were to live to-day, and if they had to think modern thought and to speak modern speech, I should say that an eternal power, not ourselves, that makes for righteousness, would not be a very unlikely rendering they might feel themselves inclined to give of their ancient JJi'ta.

WAS S!TA A COMSION AEYAN CONCEPT ?

One more point, however, has to be settled. We have seen that in the Veda, rita, belongs to one of the earliest strata of thought : the question now is, was rita a purely Vedic, or was it, like Dyaus, Zeus, Jupiter, a common Aryan concept ?

It is difficult to speak confidently. There were, as we shall see, cogn ite ideas thit found expression in Latin and German in words derived from the same root ar, but there is not sufhuient evidence to show that, like the Riti of the Vedic poets, these words started from the conception of the daily, weekly, monthly, and annual movement of the heavenly bodies, and from nothing else.


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238 THE IDEAS OF ISFIXITY AND LAW.

Ill Sanskrit we Iiave beside rita, the coiiimon word for seasons, rita, meaning originally the regular steps or movements of the year. In Zend raUi is the same word, but it means not only order, hot also he who orders.^

It lias been frequently attempted to identify the Sauskrit n'tu, season, and rita, settled, regular, par- ticularly as applied to the course of the heavenly bodies and to the order of the ancient sacrifices, with the Latin rite, according to religious usage, and ritus, a rite, the form and manner of religious ceremonies. But )■{ in Latin never coiTesponds to Skt. )■!, which is really a shortened form of ar or ?-a, and therefore represented in Latin by or, er, ur, and more rarely by re.

There seems, however, no difficulty in connecting the Latin ordo with our root ar or ri ; and Benfey has shown that ordo, ordinis, would correspond to a Sanskrit form n'-tvan. Ordior, to weave, would seem to have meant originally a careful and orderly ar- rangement of anything, more particularly of threads.

Tiie nearest approach to rita is to be found in the Latin ratug, particularly when we consider that rdtus was originally referred in Latin also to the constant movement of the stars. Thus Cicero (Tusc. v, 24, 69) speaks of the motits (^etellarum} eotisiantes et rati; and agiiin (N. D. ii. 20, 51) of tlie astronim rati immutabileeque curstts. I incline myself to the opin- ion that this rdtus in Latin is identical in origin and also in intention with Skt. rita, only that it never became developed and fixed in Latin as a religions concept, such as we saw in the Vedic Itita. Bat though I hold to this opinion, I do not wish to dis-

I Darmesteler, Oruui:!! a Mniiini!, ]>. 12.


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THE IDEAS OF IXFINITT AND LAW. 26)i

guise its difficulties. Mita, if it was presevved in Latin, might have been artus, ertus, ortus, or urtus, but not ratus, not even rltits, as it appears in irntua, vain, i. e., unsettled, I fully admit that phonetically Professor Kuhu's identification of Latin ratus with Ssinskrit rdta is fur more regular. He derives it from r<t, to give, and as from the root dd we have in Latin datum and redditum, so from the root rd we should have quite regularly ratum and irritum. Tiie di£G- culty in Professor Kuhn's etymology is the meaning. Rdta means given, and though it assumes t!ie mean- ing of gi'anttd, assigned to, determined, and though in Zend too, data, law, comes from dtl (dhS,), both to give and to settle,^ yet there is, as Corssen remarks, no trace of this having ever been the original mean- ing of Latin rdtum?

Nor are the phonetic difficulties in identifying Latin rates with Skt. rita insurmountable. The Latin ratis, float, is generally connected with the Skt. root, ar, to row, and Latin gracilis with Skt. kr/sa. If then Latin ratus is the same word as the Sanskrit Mta, there is every reason to suppose that it too referred originally to the regular and settled move- ments of the heavenly bodies, and that like conside- rare, contemplari, and many such words, it became afterwards despeeialized. In that case it would be interesting to observe that while in Sanskrit rita., from meaning the order of the heavenly movements, became in time the name for moral order and riglit- i, ratus, though starting from the same source,


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240 THE fDEAS OF INFIMTY AXD r.AW.

lent itself in Latin and German to express intellect- ual order and reason a blen ess. For from tlie same root and closely connected with ratus {pro ratd) we have the Latin ratio, settling, counting, adding and subtracting, reason, and Gothic rathjo, number, rath- jan, to number; Old High German, radja, speech, and redjon, to speak, ^

RITA IS ASHA IN ZEND.

But though we look in Yain among the other Aryan languages for anything exactly corresponding to the Vedie rjta, and cannot tlierefore claim for it, as in the case of Dyans and Zeus, an antiquity ex- ceeding the first separation of the Aryan races, we can show that both the word and the concept existed before the Ii'aniaiis, whose rehgion is known to us in the Zend-avesta, became finally separated from the Indians, whose sacred hymns are preserved to us in the Veda, It has long been known that these two branches of Aryan speech, which extended in a south- easterly direction, must have remained together for a long time after they hiid separated from all the other branches, which took a northwesterly course. They shai-e words and thoughts in common to which ■we find nothing analogous anywhere else. Partic- ularly in their religion and ceremonial, tliere are terms which may be called technical, and which nevertheless are to be found both in Sanskrit and in Zend. The word which in Zend corresponds to Sanskrit ri'ta is aslia. Phonetically asha may seem far removed from rita, but ri'ta is properly arta, and

Eee Corssen, Auasprache del Lateinisi^en, i.


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THE IDEAS OF INFINITY AND LAW. 241

the transition of Sanskrit rt into Zend eh is possible.^ Hitherto asha in Zend has been translated by purity, and the modern Parsis always accept it in tliat sense. But this is a secondary development of the word, as has lately been shown by a veiy able French scholar, M. Darmesteter ; * and by assigning to it the mean- ing which rita hiis in the Veda, many passages in the Avesta receive for the firet time their proper char- acter. It cannot be denied, that in the Aveata,^ as in the Veda, aaha may often be translated by purity, and that it is moat frequently used in reference to the proper performance of the sacrifices. Here the Asha consists in what is called "good thoughts, good words, good deeds," good meaning ceremonially good or correct, without a false pronunciation, without a mist;\ke in the sacrifice. But there are passages which show that Zoroaster also recognized the exist- ence of a kosmos, or n'ta. He also tells how tlie mornings go, and the noon, and the nights ; and how they follow a law that has been traced for them ; he too admires the perfect friendship ^between the sun and the moon, and the harmonies of living nature, the miracles of every birth, and how at the right

' Tlie identity of arta (ri'ta) and asha was f rst painted ont by de La- garde {GeKoamelh Abkandluagen, p. 153), nnd by Oppert (Imcrij/tiota del Ach^mtnidei, p. 106). Ii was accepted by Haug (Das 18 Capitel da Vendidad, Sitiungiierlcliti der Kgl. Bayer. Mad. der Wissenschaflen, 1863, p. 526), and supported by Hilhschniann (Ein Zuroattritchea Lied, p. 76). Tbus Skt. martya^Zendmashyai Stt. pritana = 2eod peHhatiS; Skt, bbailar = Zend bfiebar! Ski. inHta = Zend tneslia; Zend peretu = Zend pesliii. Spiegel {Aiixht Sivdiert, p. 33| cliallenges some of tbesa identifications, and explains them differenllv. Still he too admits the possible intercbange of Stt. rt and Zend eh. See Piscbel, Gm. gel. An- teigea, 1877, p. 1554.

  • Ormaiid et AAHman, lear$ originei et Itsr kiiloire, par Jamea Dar-

mesteter, PaHs, 1877.

1 Darmesleter, 1. c.-p. 14.


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242 Tin; idkas of isfisity asd law.

time there is food for the mother to give to her child. As in the Veda, so in the Avesta, the universe fol- lows the Aslia, the worlds are the creation of Asha, The faithful, while on earth, pray for the mainte- nance of Asha, while after death they will join Or- mazd in the highest heaven, the abode of Asha. The pious worshiper protects the Asha, the world grows and prospers by Asha. The highest law of the world ia Asha, and the highest ideal of the be- liever is to become an Aahavaii, possessed of Asha, i. e.y righteous.

This will suffice to show that a belief in a eoamic order existed before the Indians and Iranians sepa- rated, that it formed part of their ancient, conmion rehgion, and was older therefore than the oldest G3.tha of the Ave-sta, and the oldest hymn of the Veda. It wiis not the result of later speculation, it did not come in only after the belief in the different goda and their more or less despotic government of the world had been used up. No, it was an intuition which underlay and pervaded the most ancient re- ligion of the Southern Aryans, and for a true appre- ciation of their religion it is far more important than all the stories of the dawn, of Agui, Indra, and Rudra.

Think only wliat it was to believe in a Rii'X, in an order of the world, though it be no more at first than a belief that the sun will never overstep his bounds. It was all the difference between a chaos and a kosmos, between the blind play of chance and an intelligible and therefore an intelligent provi- dence. How many souls, even now, when everything eke has failed them, when they have parted with the most cherished convictions of their childhood, when


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THE IDEAS 01' INFINITY AND LAW. 243

their faith in man has been poisoned, and when the apparent triumph of all that is selfish, ignoble, and hideous has made them throw up the cause of trath, o£ righteousness, and innocence as no longer worth fighting for, at least in this world ; how many, I say, have found their last peace and comfort in a con- templation of the ^i'ta, of the order of the world, whether manifested in the unvarying movement of the stars, or revealed in the unvarying number of the petals and stamens and pistils of the smallest forget-me-not! How many have felt that to belong to this kosnios, to t^^ beautiful order of nature, is something at least t 5t on, something to trust, something to believe, wh». everything else has failed I To us this perception of the Bita., of law and order in the world, may seem very little ; but to the an- cient dwellers on earth, who had little else to sup- port them, it was everything : better than their bright beings, their Devas, better than Agni and Indra; because, if once perceived, i£ once under- stood, it could never be taken from them.

What we have learnt then from the Veda is this, that the ancestors of our race in India did not only believe in divine powers more or less manifest to their senses, in rivers and mountains, in the sky and the sun, in the thunder and rain, but that their senses likewise suggested to them two of the most essential elements of all religion, tlie concept of the infinite and the concept of order and law, as re- vealed before them, the one in the golden sea behind the dawn, the other in the daily path of the sun. These two percepts, which sooner or later must be taken in and minded by every human being, were at first no more than an impulse, but their impulsive


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244 THE IDEAS OF IXriSITY AND LAW.

force would not rest till it hiid beaten into tlie minds of the fathers of our race the deep and indelible im- pression that " all is right," and filled them with a hope, and more than a hope, that " all will be right."


GooqIc


HENOTHEISM, POLYTHEISM, MONOTHE- ISM, AND ATHEISM.


IS MONOTHEISM A PRIMITIVE rORM OF EEUQION"? If you consider how natural, how intelligible, how inevitable, was the origin and growth of the prin- cipal deities of the Veda, you will perhaps agree with me that the whole controversy, whether the human race began with monotheism or polytheism, hardly deserves a serious discussion, at least so far as the Indians, or even the In do-Europeans, are con- cerned.' I doubt whether this question would ever have arisen, unless it had been handed down to us as a legacy of another theory, very prevalent during the Middle Ages, that religion began with a prime- val revelation, whicli primeval revelation could not be conceived at all, except as a revelation of a true and perfect religion, and therefore as monotheism. That primeval monotheism was supposed to hiive been pre- served by the Jews only, while all other nations left it and fell mto polytheism and idolatry, from which, at a later time, they worked their way back again

' For an able resume ot various opinions in favor of or agi^nrt a primi- tive mon atheism, particulariy of Pictet, Pfleiderer, Sclierer, R^vllle, and Koth, see Muir, Sanskrit TexU, v. p. 412. I hare sometimes been quoted aa a suDoorter of tbe theory of an orifpnal monotheism. In ivhat sense I " m the folioiving remarks, parlicularij- page


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24o HENOTIIEISM, POLYTHEISM, JIOSOTHF.ISM, ATHEISM.

into the piirer light of a religious oi philosophical monotheism.

It is cunous k) see how long it takes before any of tliese purely gratuitous theories are entirely annihi- lated. They may have been refuted again and again, the best theologians and scholars may long have Jid- mitted that they rest on no solid foundation whatso- ever, yet they crop up in places where we shouk' least expect them, in books of reference, and, what ia still worse, in popular school-books ; and thus the tares are sown broadcast, and spring up everywhere, till they almost choke the wheat.

THE SCIENCE OF LANGUAGE AND THE SCIENCE OF RELIGION,

The science of language offei-s in this respect many points of similarity with the science of religion, Without any warrant, either from the Bible or from any other source, nay, without being able tn connect any clear understanding with such a theory, many mediaaval, and even modern, writers have maintained that language too owed its origin to a priiufval reve- lation. The next step was, that this primeval lan- guage could only have been Hebrew ; the next step again, that all other languages must be derived from Hebrew. It is extraordinary to see the learning and ingenuity expended in voluminous works to prove tliat Greek and Latin, French and English, were all derived from Hebrew. When, however, no amount of torture could force from Hebrew the confession that she was the mother of all those degenerate chil- dren, the very failure of these repeated efforts showed that it was necessary to commence a new trial by an impartial collection of all the evidence that could be


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HEN0THEIS5I, rOLYTIIEISU, MONOTHEISM, ATIILISM. 247

brought to bear on the origin and gi-owth of human speech. This, which we call the historical study of language, soon led to a genealogical classificsitiou of the principal languages of the world, in which He- brew at last received its right place, by the side of other Semitic dialects ; while the question of the or- igin of language assumed an altogether new form, viz.. What is the origin of roots and radical concepts in every one of the great families of liuman speech ? By following the example of the science of language, the students of the science of religion have arrived at very similar results. Instead of approaching the re- ligions of the world with the preconceived idea that they are either eorrnptions of the Jewisli religion, or descended, in common with the Jewish religion, from some perfect primeval revelation, they have seen that it is their duty first to collect all the evidence of the early history of religious thought that is still acces- sible in the sacred books of the world, or in the mythology, customs, and even in the languages of various races. Afterwards they have undertaken a genealogical classification of all the materials that have hithetfco been collected, and they have then only approached the question of the origin of religion in a new spirit, by trying to find out how the roots of the various religions, the radical concepts which form their foundation, and, before all, the concept of the infinite, could liave been developed, taking for granted nothing but sensuous perception on one side, and the world by which we are surrounded on the other.

There is another similarity between these two sci- ences. As it is well known that there is constant growth and development in language, connected with what is inevitable in all development, viz., a throwing


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248 HEXOTIIEISJI, POLYTHHSM, MONOTHEISM, ATIIF.ISM.

off of wliiitever is iiserl up and con-npt, the bistoiy of religion also has been shown to exhibit a constant growth and development, its very life consisting in a discarding of decayed elements, which is necessary in order to maintain all the better wliiitever is still sound and vigorous, and at the same time to admit new influences from that inexhaustible source from which all religion springs, A religion that cannot change is like a classical language, that rules supreme for a time, but is swept away violently in the end, by the undercurrent of popular dialects, by the voice of ■ihe people, which has often been called the voice of Ood.

Again, as no one speaks any longer of an innate language, — we hardly know what could he meant by it, — the time will come when the idea of an innate religion too will seem equally unintelligible. Man, we know now, has to conquer everything in the sweat of his face, though we likewise know that wherever he has labored honestly, the ground has not brought forth tlKU'ns and thistles only, but enough to support him, tliotigli he may be meant to eat his bread in sor- row ail the days of his life- It is easy to understand that, even if a complete grammar and dictionary had suddenly come down from heaven, they would have been useless to beings that had not themselves elaborated their percepts into concepts, and that bad not themselves discovered the I'elation (Tn-tturi?) in which one concept may stand to another. They would have been a foreign language, and who can learn a foreign language, unless he has a language of his own ? We may acquire new lan- guages from without: language and what it implies must come from within. Tlio same with religion.


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HENOTlIEISJf, rOLYTHKISM, MONOTHKISM, ATHEISM. 249

Aak a missionary whether he can efficiently preach the mysteries of Christianity to people who have no idea oE what religion is. All he can do is to discover the few gernia of religion which exist even among the lowest savages, though hidden, it may be, beneath deep layers of rubbish ; to make them grow again by tearing up the weeds that have choked them, and then to wait patiently till the soil in which alnjie the natural seeds of religion can grow, may become fit again to receive and to nurture the seeds of a higher religion.

THE PREDICATE OP GOD. If we approach the study of religion in this spirit, the question whether man began with, monotheism or polytheism can never present itself. When man liaa once arrived at a stage of thought where he can call anything, be it one or many, God, he has achieved more than half of his jouniey. He has found the predicate God, and he has henceforth to look for the subjects only to which that predicate is truly appli- cable. What we want to know is, how man first ar- rived at the concept of the divine, and out of what elements he framed it : afterwards only comes the question how he was able to predicate the divine of this or that, of the One or of the many. Wi-iters on religion^ speak of "primitive men deifying the

1 "How strong soever may liave been the religious fpelinffa of the prim- itire Aryans, however lively their aenae of the eupcrnatiiral, and how- ever forcibly we maytherffore imaRine them to have been impelled to dtify the grand natural objecte by which they were surrounded and over- awed, it is obvious that the phyaico) impressiona made by lliwe objects on their senses would be jet more powerful in proportion as tliey were more frequent atid mora obtmaive ; and that consequently the sky, earth, bod, flc., even though regarded as deUU; would naturally be called by names denoting their external charncteiistics, rather than by other appellatioa* descriptive of the dhine attrlbutQs lh?y were supposed to pOESess." — J. Wuir, SanOtrit Texts, v. p. 414.


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250 IirXOTHF.ISM, POLYTHEISM, MOXOTHEISM, ATlllilSM.

grand natural objects by which they are surrounded," They might as well speak of primitive men mum- mifying their dead, before they had mum or wjix to embalm them with.

THE NEW MATERIALS SUPPLIED BV THE VKDA.

I am not one of those who hold that the Veda of- fers the key to this and to all other problems of the science of religion. Nothing could be a greater mis- take t!ian to suppose that all nations went through exactlj the sinie leligions development which we find in Indii Ou the contrary, the chief interest in these compuiti\e studies in the field o£ religion consists in our bcmg able to see in Iiow many different ways the stine go\l cnuld be and has been readied. All I mauitun is, tiiit in the Veda we see one stream of ieligiJU3 eiolntion, and a very important stream; and th it if wc study that, without bringing to its stud) vo\ pinoiiceived opinions, the question whether the Ai) U19 of India bcgiin with monotheism, in the usi! il bensi f th vt word, seems to me to convey no meinm^, it ill

nESOTHEISJt,

If wp must hive a general name for the earliest foim of religion among the Vedic Indians, it can be neithei monothtum nor polytheism, but only heno- theism} thit IS, i belief and worship of those single objects, whether semi-tangible or intangible, in which min fiist suspected the presence of the invisible and the lufimte each of which, as we saw, was raised into ^omt thing moie than finite, more than natural, more th m concei\Able and thus grew in the end to be an


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UrSOTHElSM, POLYTHEISSI, MONOTHEISM, ATHEISM. 251

Asura, or a living tiling ; a Deva, or a briglit being ; an Amart.i/a, that is, not a mortal, and at last an im- mortal and eternal being, — iu fact, a Gotl, endowed with the highest qualities which the human intel- lect could conceive at the various stages of its own growth.

This phase of religious thought can nowhere bo studied so well as in the Veda; in fact, we should hardly have known of its existence but for the Veda.

THE SUN IN HIS NATURAL ASPECTS.

Let us take the sun i\3 an instance of thia transi- tion fi'om natural objects to supernatural, and at last divine powers. The sun has many names, eucli as Surya, Savitri, Mitra, Pushan, Aditya, and others. It is interesting to watch how each of these names grows by itself into some kind of active personality ; and in a study of the Vedic religion, it is most essen- tial to keep each as much aa possible distinct from the others. For our purposes, however, it is more im- portant to see how they all branch oS from a com- mon source, and were meant originally to express one and the same object, viewed only from different points.

The ordinary descriptions of the sun, whether under his name of SQrya, Savitn, Mitra, Pushan, or Aditya, are such that any one, with a poetic feeling for nat- ure, would easily underetand them. Surya, the sun, is called the son of the sky.^ The dawn is spoken of both as his wife ^ and as his daughter ; ^ and as the

1 Rig-Veda, X. 37, 1, divaft putraya Biiryaja samsala, sing to Sflrja, the Bon of Dvaiis (skv).

2 Ibid. "\n'[. 75, 5, pflryasya )-o«Iia, the wifa of Sfirya.

» Ibid. IV. 13, 2, sflryasya dutita, the daughlet of Surya.


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252 HEXOTHEISM, POLYTHEISM, MOSOTEEISM, ATHEISM.

dawn is likewise a diiugliter of the aky,^ slie might be represented as Iiis sister also. Iiidni again is some- times represented as having given birth both to the sun and to the dawn.* From another point of view, however, the same dawns are s:iid to have given birth to the BU11.3 Here is at once ample matei-ial for the growth of mythology and tragedy : but tliia does not concern ns at present.

In the Veda, as in Greek poetry, SQrya has a chariot, drawn by one ^ or seven horses,^ the seven Harits, or blight horses, in which, in spite of all dif- ferences, we have to recognize the prototype of the Greek Charites. He is called the face of the gods,^ and the eye of other more personal gods, such as Mitra, Varuna, and Agni.'^ When he nnhai-nesses his horses, the night spreads out her vesture.' All this is solar story, such as we find almost everywhere.

Though Surya or the sun is himself called prasii^ vitri',^ the creator (not, however, in the exclusively Christian sense of the word), yet he assumes under the name of Savitr* a more independent and dramatic character. As Savit?■^, he is represented as standing

1 KiK-Veds, V. 79, 8, duhilS dlvii^, daughter of the sky,

3 Ibid. II. 12, 7, yai Bdryain yah usliasani jaSfiiia, he who beg.it the gun, he who hcgat the down.

" Ibid. VII. 78. 8, iifiganaa Bflrram yajnam agnim, Ihoy produced SHri'a (the sun], the sacririi.-«, Ibe fire.

I'ibid. VII. ea, a, yat etatali vahali.

E Ibid. I. 115, 3, B«vaA harita* sQryasya ; VII. 00. 3, ayukla sapta haritai.

Ibid. 1. 115, ]. titrani deTanara udagat an'ikam, the brigiit face of the gods rose.

' Ibid. 1. 115, 1, takshiiJ mitrasya variinaaya agneft, tlie eye of Mitra, Varuna, Agiii.

8 Ibid. 1. 115, i, yBda it ayukta harila* sadhaathSt, atriltri va.-aft tanute ^masmai, when he has taken the Harits (horses) Iroin their yoke, then the nishl eprends out her jiarmenl over everybody.

9 Ibid. VII. 63, 2. prasavila sananam.


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HENOTKEISM, POLYTHEISM, MONOTHEISM. ATHEISM. 253

on a golden cliariot,i witli yellow haii',^ with golden arms^ and hands * and eyes,^ nay, even with a golden tongue," while his jaws are said to be of iron.' He puts on armor or a cloak of a brilliant tawny eolor,^ and he proceeds on dustless paths,*

Mitra again was originally the snn, only in a new light, and therefore with a new name.^" He is chiefly the bi'ight and cheerful sun of the morning, or the day,^' sun and day being often used synonymously even in modern languages, such as in yestersun for yesterday. Sometimes a poet says that Savitri is Mitra, '^ or that he at least performs the same work as Mitra. This Mitra is most frequently invoked in conjunction with Varuna. Both stand together on tile same chariot, which is golden-colored at the rising of the dawn, and has iron poles at sunset. ^^

I Rig-Veda, I. 36, 2, hiranyaj-ena savili rathena.

• Ibid. X. 139, 1, harikejak. " lliid. I. 35, 10, liiranyahnstah.

  • Ibid. I. 22, 5, hirasyapaniA. * Ibid. I. 35, 8, hiranyabshai.

a Ibid, VI. 71, a, hiranyajjihvai.

» Ibid. VI. Tl, *, ayohanu*.

' Ibid. IV. 53, 3. pisangam drUpim prati munftate kavi*.

s Ibid. I. 35, 11, panthaA arenavaft.

II Mitra, friend, stands for Mit-tm, and this, as suggested already by native granimarianE, mast be derived Erom (he root mid, to lie fat, to make fal, to make Eliiiiing, to delight, to lave. SimitaF transitions of meaning are to be found in the root snih. From mid we have meda. fat, and inedin, one vha ^laddeni, a friend, a companion: cf. Alharva-Veda, X. 1, 33, eQrvena inedini. In tbe same Veda, V. 2(1, 8, fndraniediu occurs in the same sense ss {ndrasakhs in the Rig-Veda, VII. 37, 24.

11 Atlian-a-Veda, XIII. 3, 13, sa varuna* sSyam agnir bhavati sa milro bhavati prillar udyan, sa ^lita bbQtv^itariksbena yiti sa indro bh<ltv& tapati madhyalo divara; ct. Rig. Veda, V. 3.

" Rig-Veda, V. 81, +, uta mitroS bliavani deva dharmabhift.

U [bid. V. 62, 8, hiranyarlipam ushasaA vyushlau, ajaAsthdtwm ndit& sQryasya. The contrast between hiranyarUpa, gold-colored in the morn- ing, and ay^AslhQna, with iron poles in the evening, seems to indicate that ayah, metal, is here intended to indicate the dark Iton-like color of the sunset or evening in India. In ayohanu, iron-jawed, ayas, metal or iron, expresses strength.


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254 IIEXOTHEISM, POLYTHEISM, MOXOTirEISJI, ATlitHSM.

Again, another name for the sun is Vi&hjm, Tliat fae, too, was originally a solar being, is most clearly indicated by his three strides,^ his position in the morning, at noon, and in the evening. Bnt his phys- ical character soon vanishes behind the splendor of his later divine functions.

Pnshan, on the contrary, always retains a more Inimble position. He was originally the snn as viewed by shepherds. His horses, if we may say so, in imi- tation of the Vedic poet, are goats ; ^ he carries an ox-goad as his sceptre,^ and a goiden dagger (v^si).* His sister, or his beloved, is Snrya,* the snn or dawn, conceived as a female deity ; and, like other sohir deities, he too sees everything.^

Aditya, in later times a very common name of the enn, is nsed in the Veda chiefly as a general epithet of a number of solar deities. I call them soLar be- cause, though Professor Roth looks upon them as purely ethical conceptions, they clearly reveal their solar antecedents, in some of the Vedic hymns. Thus Surya is an Aditya, Savitj-i is an Aditya, iVIitra is an Aditya ; and when Aditya occurs by itself, it may often, particularly in later portions of the Rig- Veda, be tianslated simply by the sun.

All this is intelligible, and familiar to us from other religions and mythologies.

1 Riff- Veda, I. 22, IT j I. 1S4. = Ibid- VI. 58, 2, agisvah.

  • IbiJ. VI. 53, fl, y& Ce efiitri, goopni^ ligitriae pasusfidUanl.
  • Ibid. I. 43, 6, hlranyai'afiinattania.

» Ibid. VI. 55, 4, ssHsuft yiiA gkrah aiyate } VI. 58, 4, vam davasa* adadnft sQrvnyai.

' Ibid. III. 62, 9, vflA visvS abhi vipasvati, bhuvana sam la pajyati; Cf. X. 187, 4.

I Ihid. I. BO, 13, iidagSt ayam UHyah visi-ena saiiasli saha. Gnisa-


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HEX"OTHEIS.M, POLYTHEISM, MOXOTHEISM, ATHEISM. 255


TUB SUN AS A SUPERNATURAL POWER.

Ill other places, however, the tone of the Vedic poets changes. The sun is no longer the bright Deva only, who performs his daily task in the sky, but he is supposed to perform much greater work; lie is looked upon, in fact, hs the ruler, as the establisher, as the creator of the world.

We can follow in the Vedic hymns, step by step, the development which chsmges the sun from a mere luminary into a creator, preserver, ruler, and re- warder of the world, — in fact, into a divine or su- preme being.

The first step leads us from the mere light of the sun to that light which in the morning wakes man from sleep, and seems to give new life not only to man, but to the whole of nature. He who wakes ua in the morning, who recalls the whole of nature to new life, is soon called " the giver of daily life,"

Secondly, by another and bolder step, the giver of daily light and life becomes the giver of light and life in general. He who brings light and life to-day is the same who brought life and light on the first of days. As light is the beginning of the day, so light was the beginning of creation, and the sun, from being a mere light-bringer or life-giver, becomes a creator, and, if a creator, then soon also a ruler of the world.

Thirdly, as driving away the dreaded darkness of the night, and likewise as fertilizing the earth, the sun is conceived as a defender and kind protector of all living things.

Fourthly, the sun sees everything, both what is good and what is evil ; and how natural therefore


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256 HESOTIIKISM, rOLYTUEISM, MON'OTHEISM, ATHETSIZ.

that both the evil-doer should be told that the snii sees what no human eye may have seen, and that the innocent, when iill other help fails him, should appeal to the sun to attest his guiltlessness ! " My soul waiteth for the Lord more than they that watch for the morning." (Psiihn cxxx. 6,)

Let us examine now a few passages, illustrating every one of these perfectly natural transitions. The very name given to the snn — Saviti-i — means en- livener, and the sun is called " the enlivener of men," prasavit^ ^an&n&m.^

In Rig- Veda, VII. 63, 1, we re;id; —

" The sun rises, the bliss-bestowing, the Kll-seeing, The same for all men i The eye of Mitra and Vnruna, Tbe god who has rolled up darhn ess like s. skin."

And again, VII. 63, 4 : —

"The brillinnt [sun) rises from the sky, wide Phining. Going forth to his distant work, full of light; Koir let men also, enlivened by (lie sun, Go to (heir places and to tlicir work."

In another hymn (VII. 60, 2) we find the stin in- voked as "the protector of everything that moves or stands, of all that exists,"

Frequent allusion is made to the sun's power o£ seeing everything. The stars flee before the all-see- ing sun, like thieves.^ He sees the right and the wrong among men.^ He who looks upon all the world knows also all the thoughts in men.*

As the sun sees everything and knows everything, he is asked to forget and forgive what he alone has seen and knows.


I Rig.


Veda,


VII. H3, 2,


ulu


etipr



ifSja


nanam-



sibid


.1, BO


, 2, KP« tye


tSya


.■a* VI


Eilha


nalisl


latra yan


ti aktubhi*.


a Ibid


. vir.


eo, 2, riga



fshui



nHhi.


pasyan.




, VII,


SI, 1, sah T


nan}-



arty.


eahuii


. Hkela.


.|L.v*


Gooi^lc


HESOTHEISM, POLYTHEISJI, MONOTHEISM, ATIIE[S11. 257

Thus -we read (IV. 54, 3), "Whatever we have committed agiiinst the heavenly host through thought- lessiiesa, through weakness, through pnde, through our human nature, let us be guiltless here, Savitar, before gods and men."

The sun is asked to drive away illness and bad dreams.' Other gods also are implored to deliver man from sin, and from the unspeakable (avadya) at the rising of the sun.^

Hiiving once and more than once been iuvohed as the life-briuger, the sun is also called the breath or life of all that moves and rests ; ^ and lastly, he becomes the maker of all tilings, Visvakannan, by whom all the worlds have been brought together,* and Pra.^pati, which means lord of man and of all living creatures. "Savitn," one poet says,^ "has fastened the earth with cords ; he has established the heaven without a support," He is called the

' Eig-Veaa, X. 37, 4,

yena gflrya ^otislifL b^has^ tamah^

ifsgat in vijvnm tidiyurahi bliiLnuno,

tena asmat viavJlni anirani anSlmtim

apa aniivam flpa duAavapiijarn guva.

With (hs l^ght, O Sun, with which Ihoii overeomeEt darliiiess, and rnHSfst

the whole world in splendor, wilh thai lijht drive away from us all weak-

oett, all negligence, all illnesx, and sleeplessness!

a Ibid. I. IIB, e, adya dev&A uditft sflrjasys nii arahasai pipKta niS

> Ibid. 1. 115, 1, sQryaA Htmg iRtgataA lasthnshaA in.

4 Ibid. X.iri), 4, vibhrSiian jTyoiisliS svaft tgaklcJiik rolanam divoi, yena imft visvft bhuvanani iibhriia visvaltarmana visvadevyavatS. Far fining with light than wnnttet to the lieaven, the brightness of the

ThoH by whom all these beings haw been brouglit forth, the malier of all things, endowed with all divine might. 6 Ibid. X. 148, 1,

savitit yanfraiS pn'thvini araninSt askambbane savitn dyam adrimhat. 17


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258 HENOTHEISM, POLYTHEISM, MOSOTHEISSI, ATHEISM.

upholder of heaven, the Pra^^paii of tiie world,^ and even then he weiii-s that tawny armor or cloak which seemed to belong more properly to the golden-haired sun-god.

Another poet declares " that the heaven is upheld by the sun, while the earth is upheld by that which is true, the Satya, to ov.^ At last the language ap- plied to Surya becomes supei'lative. He is the god among gods ; ^ he is the divine leader of all the gods."*

The personal and divine elements are still more strongly developed in Savitri. We saw this already in some of the passages quoted before. We shall see it still more cleavly in others, Savit;-*' alone I'ules the whole world. ^ The laws which he has established are firm,^ and the other gods not only praise him, but have to follow him as their leader.^ In one pas- sage it is said that he bestowed immortality ^ on the



UtVfl


yam tainaanft pari svotiA paaj-antaft uttarain



devni


nQdavaCraBaryama;


jannia jyotift utlamani.


Seeing Ih


e lighl


rising iiigtier and h


iglier above the darkness,


tfao highe


si light, to Sttrya, the god


among goda.


' IWd.


vni.


101, 12. mahni devfl


niiin asiiryaft purohilaA.


« Ibid.


V. 81,


6, uta ifflslie praEavo


iiya tvam ekali it.


« Ifaid.


IV. 5£


1,4,





adabhj-aS bhuva


nSni praiaita^t.




vratfini devaA sa


vita abhi rafcsliate.


1 Ibid.


Vil. 3


3,3,



deiSA devasja maliimaiiam o^as^, » Ibid. IV. I>4, a,

devehllya^ hi prathnmam yaffniyebhyaii amWiatv-am snvasi blifigani Mtamam,


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HE>iOTHElSM, POLYTHEISM, MONOTHEISM, ATHEISM. 259

other gods, and that tlie lives of men, one succeeding the other, are his gift. This can only mean that both the immortality of theDevas and the life of men were dependent on Savitri as the vivifying sun.^ L;tstly, it should not be forgotten that the most sacred line of the whole Veda is the G&yatri verse, addressed to Savitrz; "Let us obtain (or, according to the Hindu tradition, let us meditate on) that adorable splendor of Savitrj ; may he arouse our minds ! "^

Even Pushan rises sometimes beyond the limits of a purely pastoral solar deity. Though in one place he is spoken of as only higher than mortals and equal to the gods,^ he is in other places called the lord of all that rests and moves.* Like all solar deities, he sees everything, and, like Savitri, he is also supposed to conduct the souls of the departed to the regions of the blessed.^

As to Mitra and Vishwu, it ia well known that they attained the highest supremacy. Mitra is greater than the earth and the sky,^ he supports even all the


ivest to the worstipful Devas immorlalily, as the Uigliest


litis


am


rent when >« read tliat SavitK


bestowed imiii


orl(


ility on (he


/!ibhu3, 1


he 1


«n« ot Siiillianvan, Rig-Veda, I.


110, 3, tor \\u



are alwaya


npresant



as liaviiig been originally men,


and as deifi


ed


at a later








2 RiE-Ved,


1, III. 62, 10, tat sarltuft Taren


.yam bhargaft



vasya dhl-


mahi, <lti


iy«*


. yah naft pralodayat.





B Ibid.


VI.


+8, 19, pnraft hi martyai* asi sa


maft devai*.




' Il>i.l.


I. S9, 5, tain isAtiam gagatah taalhu^


>ba^ putim.




» Ibid.


X.


IT, 3, pftslia tva itaft jtyaraj


■atu pra vidv


an


— ssh IvJ


etebhyail


par


i dadal pilWbiiyai.





IWd,


HI.


59, T, ablii ya/^ mabina divam


mitrai bnbbH



saprathiS,


abhi <rav


ohhih prithivlm.





jGooi^lc


260 HEXOTHEISM, POLYTHEISM, MOSOTIIEISSI, ATHEISJl,

gods.' Visluiu supports all the worlds;^ lie is the companion of ludra in his battles,* and no one can reach the Iniiits of his greatness,*

THE SUN IN A SECONDARY POSITION.

If w-e knew nothing else of the religious poetry of thii Vedii, we miglit, after reading such pvaisys be- stowed upon the sun, feel iiiciined to say that the old Brahmana worshiped the sun under various names as their supreme deity ; and tlutt in that sense they miglit be said to worship one god only, to be, in fact, monotheists. Nothing, however, could be further from the truth. In this oue evolution, no doubt, the sun assumed tlie character of a supreme duity, but even in the passages which we have quoted there is hiirdly an assertion of the sun's supremacy that could not be matched in the hymns addressed to other Devas. He is totally different in tliat respect from Zeus and Jupiter. Nor do the Vedic poets hesitate for a moment to represent tlie same deity, the sun, who is at one time the maker and upholder of all things, at another time as the child of the

1 Rig-Vcda, HI. 59, 8, saft davan visv-an bibharti.

3 Il>id. 1. 154, 4, ya/i u tridhatu pi'iihivim uta dyftm, ekaS diJhara bhiivaniini vjei-a, He wbo m tbree places supports Ibe eartb and tbe sky, vvlio ulono supports nil being?.

a Ibid. VJ. G8.

» Ibid. VII. 99, 2.

deva mahimnaA param antain fLpa, astabhniU naliani nahvani brilianlam, dadlmrlba prjUlm kakubliam pii'lbivyat. No onB who is now living or who lived fonnerlj- reached, Ueva, Ihe

tarihest end of thy greatness; Thoa hast suppoi'led Ihe sky, the bi-ight aod ffrenl, thou liast holdcu the eastern point of thB earth.


Cooi^lc


IIEXOTIII-ISM, rOLTTlItiSM, MONOTHEISM, ATHEISM. 261

waters, as produced by the dawns, a god among other gods, neither better nor worse.

This is the peculiar character of the ancient Vedic religion which I have tried to characterize as Heno- tJiehm or Kathenotkei&m, a auccessive belief in sin- gle Biipreme gods, in order to keep it distinct from that phase of religious thought which we commonly call polytheism, in which the many gods are already subordinated to one supreme god, and by which therefore the craving after the one without a second has been more fully satisfied. In tlie Veda one god after another is invoked. For the time being, all that can be said of a divine being is ascribed to him. The poet, while addressing him, seems hardly to know of ;uiy other gods. But in the same collection of hymns, sometimes even in the same hymn, other gods are mentioned, and tliey also are truly divine, truly independent, or, it may be, supreme. The vision of the woi'shiper seems to change suddenly, and the same poet who at one moment saw nothing but the sun, as the ruler of heaven and earth, now sees heaven and earth, as the father and mother of the sun and of all the gods.

It may be difficult for us to enter into this phase of religious thought, but it is a phase perfectly in- telligible, nay inevitable, if only we remember that the idea of deity, as we understand it, was not yet fixed and settled, but was only elowlj- growing to- wards perfection. The poets ascribed the highest powers to the sun, but they ascribed equally high powers to other natural phenomena likewise. It was their object to praise the mountains, the trees, the rivers, the earth and the sky, the storm and the fire, as high as ever they could be praised. By these


.y


262 HESOIIIKIPM, POLYTHEISM, MONOTHEISM, ATHEISM.

superlative praises each became in turn a superlative or supreme power ; but to say tliat they represented each and all as gods or even as devas, involves a men- tal anaclirouism ; for, when they first uttered those praises, they did not yet possess either that word or that idea. They were looking, no doubt, for some- thing in all these phenomena, which afterwards they called divine. But at firet they had to be satisfied with predicating of the various objects of their praise the highest they could predicate. After having done that, 'nay, while doing it, some of the predicates which were applicable to all or most of the objects of their praise would assume an independent charac- ter, and thus supply the first names and conceptions o£ what we call divine. If the mountains, the rivers, the sky, and the sun were all called living and do- ing (asura), notrperishing (a^ava), immortal (amar- tya), or bright (deva), then each of these predicates would, after a time, become the name of a class of beings, expressing not only their vital vigor, their freedom from decay or their brilliancy, but every- thing else that was connoted by these words. To say that Agni or flre belongs to the devas or bright be- ings would then be something very different from saying that fire is bright. To say that Dyaus, the sky, or Silrya, the sun, is an aaurii (a living one) or an amartya (immortal), would imply far more tlian that the sky does not fade away, or that he is active and moving about. These general predicates, such as asura, vigorous, a^fara, imperishable, deva, bright, always predicate one and the same thing o£ many objects ; and if the upholders of an original mono- theism mean no more than this, that the predicate god which is looked for and slowly conquered, that


,G(h>qIc


HENOTOEfSM, POLYTHEISlf, MONOTHEISM, ATHEISM. 263

the intention of tlie divine is by its very nature one, there might he something to be said for such a theory.

But what interests lis at present is, how that inten- tion was realized; by how many steps, by how many names, the infinite was grasped, the miknowii named, and at last the divine reached. Those beings who are called devas in the Veda are in many places not yet even tlie same as tlie Greek Geol; for the Greeks, even so early as the time of Homer, had begun to snspect tliat, whatever the number and nature of the so-called gods might be, there must be something supreme, whether a god or a fate, there must be at least one father of gods and men. In some portions of the Veda, too, tlie same idea breaks tlirotigh, and we imugine that as in Greece, Italy, Germany, and elsewhere, so in India also, the religious craving after the one would have been satisfied by a monarchical polytheism. But the Indian mind soon went farther, and we shall see how in the end it was driven to a denial of all the devas or gods, and to search for something higher than all the devas, Dyaus himself, or Varuna, or Indra, or Praf/^pati not excluded. At present, when dealing with the genesis oE tlie Vedic gods or devas, what I want chiefly to show is that, be- ginning from different beginnings, nothing is more natural thiin that they should grow up at first side by side, unconcerned about each other, each perfect in his own sphere, and that sphere for a time filling the whole horizon of the vision of their worshipei-s.

Herein lies the interest and chief value of the Vedic hymns, only that it is almost impossible to exhibit the fullness of those thoughts in modern language. When the poets of the Veda address the


yCoQl^lC


264 HEXOTHEISJr, POLYTHEISM, JIOXOTHEISM, ATHEISM.

mountains to protect them, when they implore tlie rivers to yielcl them water, they may apeak of rivers and iRonntiiins as devas, but even then, thongh deva would he nioi*e than bright, it would as yet be veiy far from anything we mean by divine. How, then, shall we Cm justice to the old language and its real vagueness by our ti"anslation into sharply defined modern terms ? To the Vedic poets the rivers a]id mountains were, no doubt, the same as they are to us, hut they were conceived more prominently as active, bfcause everything which in their language was comprehended by a name could only be compi-e- hended as ma,nifc8ting some activity of whit'h man was eouacious in himself; it had no intei-eat, it had no existence in their minds, except when conceived as active. But there is still a long way from this conception of certain parts of nature as active, to what is called personification or deification. Even when the poets spoke of the sun as standing on a chariot, as clad in golden armor, as spreading out his arms, this was no more than a poetical perception of something in nature that reminded them of their own proceedings. What to us is poetry, was to them prose. What to ua seems fantastic imagery, arose more often from helplessness in grasping, and poverty in naming the surrounding world, than from any de- sire of startling or pleasing their hearers. If we could ask Vasishi/ia or Visv6,mitra, or any of the old Aryan poets, whether they really thought that the sun, tlje golden ball which they saw, was a man with legs and arms, with a heart and lungs, they would no doubt laugh at us, and tell us that though we under- stood their language, we did not understand their thoughts.


GooqIc


HEXOTHEISJr, POLYTHEISM, J[OSOTHEISM, ATHEISM. 2C5

A word like Siiviti-i, the sun, meant at first no more thivn what it said. It was derived from the root SM, to bring forth, to give life, and therefore, when applied to the sun, it meant just so much of the sun as was perceived of him in his acts of lite- giving and fertilizing, and no more. Afterwards only, Savitri became on one hand the name of a mythological being of whom certain stories, applica- ble to the vivifying sun, might be told ; while on the other hand Savitrj dwindled away into a trtiditional and unmeaning word for sun.

The process wliich we have been watching in the case of the sun, we can watch again and again with regard to most Vedic deities. Not, however, with regard to all. The so-called semi-deities, the rivers, the mountains, the clouds, the sea, others also, such as the dawn, the night, the wind, or the storm, never rise to the rank of supreme deity; but of Agni, the fire, of VaruKa, the covering sky, of Indra, Vish?iu, Rudra, Soma, Par^anya, and othci-s, epithets are used and whole descriptions given which, to our mind, would be appropriate to a supreme deitv only.

THE SKY AS DTAC9, OE THE ILLTJMINATOE. Let ns look at the origin and histoi-y of one other god, one of the oldest gods, not only of the Vedic Aryans, but of the whole Aryan race, I mean the Vedic Dyaus, the Greek Zei?. Rome scholars seem still to donbt the existence of '<uch a deity in the Veda, and there is certainly no trace of Dyaus as a god, nay, even as a masculine noun, in the later lit- erature of India, Dyaus has there become a femi- nine, and means simply the sky. Now it has always seemed to me one of the most wonderful discoveries



266 Hl'MOTOElSM, POLYTHEISM, MOSOTHISISM, ATHEISM.

made by the students of tlie Veda that a deity, which was known to have existed in Greece as Zei* jTOT^p, ill Italy as Ju-piter, in the Edda as Tyr, in German as Zio, and which we know ought to have existed in Sanskrit also, but which did not exist there, should suddenly have come to light in tliese ancient hymns of the Veda. In tlie Veda Dyans occurs, not only as a masculine, but in that close connection with pitfi,, father, as Dyauslipit{l, which we find again in the Latin Jupiter. This discovery of Dyaush-pitii was like finding at last, by means of a powerful telescope, the very star in the very place of the heavens which we had fixed before by calcu- lation.

However, even in the Veda, Dyaus is already a fading star. The meaning of the word is generally given as sky, hut its truer meaning would be "the bright or the shining one," for it is derived from the root div or dijv, to shine, to lighten; and it was this activity of shining and illuminating the world which was embodied in the name of Dyaus. Who the shining one was, the word by itself did not declare. He was an asura, a living one ; that was all. After- wards only, Dyaus became the centre of mythological stories, while in the ordinary language it dwindled away, just like Savitri, the life-giver, into one of the many traditional and unmeaning words for sky.

This Dyaus, then, the light, or the illuminator of the sky, was no doubt, from the very first, preemi- nently fitted to assume some kind of supi-emacy among the other devas or bright beings ; and we know how completely that supremacy was realized in the Greek Ztu; and the Latin Jupiter, In the Vedic Dyaus, too, we can watch the same tendency ; but it was


CtH>Qlc


HESOTHEISM, POLYTHEISM, MOSOTliErSM, ATHEISM. 267

there counteracted by that tendency hiherent in almost every deva to assume a superlative character.

Dyaus, tlie sky, is frequently invoked together with the Earth and with Fii-e. For instance (Rig- Veda, VI. 51, 5), —

"Dyaus (sky), father, and PWthivi (earth), kind mother, Agni (fire), brother, ye Vasus, ye bright ones, have mercy upon ns I "

Dyaus, we see, occupies the first place, and so he does generally in these old invocations. He is con- stantly called father. For instance (I. 191, 6), "Dyaus ia father, Pn'thivi, the earth, your mother; Soma, your brother; Aditi, your sister." Or again (Rig-Veda, IV. 1, 10), Dyaus, the father, tlie creator, Dyaush pit^ ^anil^, ZtiJs Trartjp yti/iT^^p.

More frequently, however, than by himself, Dyaus (the sky) is invoked together with Prithivt, the earth ; and the two words, joined together, form a kind of dual deity in the Veda, called Dy§,v&prithivr, Heaven and Earth.

Now tliere are many passages in the Veda where Heaven and Earth are invoked as supreme deities. Thus tlie gods are said to be their sons,^ more partic- ularly the two most popular deities in the Veda, In- dra^ and Agni,^ are mentioned as their offspring. It is they, the two parents, who have made the world,* who protect it,^ who support by their power every- thing, whatsoever exists.^

Yet, after heaven and earth have received every

1 Eig-Veda, 1. 159, 1, dcvSputre. = Ibid. IV. 17.

• Ibid. X. 2, 7, yam tva dya.vaprithivi ram tva apa*. tvasbia yam tva

  • Ibid. I. IBS, 2, sureleaa pilara bhflma lakratuft.

B Ibid. I. loo. 9, pHa mSli U bhuvanilni lakshalaS. Ibid. 1. 185, 1, visi-am fmana bibhivlai vat ba Dama.


>y


Zba HEN'OTHEISlf, POLYTHEISM, MONOTHEISM, ATHHISM.

epithet that Ciui be invented to express their iinper- ishableness, tlieir omnipotence, their eternity, we sud- denly hear of a clever workman among the gods who made heaven and earth, whether called Dyuvapi'i- tliivi^ or Rodasi.^ In some places Indra is said to have produced and to support heaven and eartJi,^ the same ludra who elsewhere is represented as the son of Dyaus, or as the son of heaven and earth. ^

STEUGGLE FOR SUPREMACY BETWEES DYAUS AND INDRA.

In fact we see here for the first time some kind of struggle between two prominent deities, between the old primeval god and goddess, Heaven and Earth, and the more modern and more personal god Indra, originally the rain-giver, the Jupiter pluvius, who was raised into an heroic character by his daily and yearly fights against the powers of darkness, of night and of winter, and more particularly against the rob- bers who Ciirry away the rain-clonds, till Indra con- quers them again with thunder and lightning. Of this Indra, though at fii-st the son of Heaven and Earth, it might well be said that at his birth heaven and earth trembled. Then again we read (Ilig-Veda, I. 131, 1), " Before Indra the divine Dyaus (heaven) bowed down, before Indra bowed down the great

1 I!i;,--Ve(ia, IV. 56, 3, sai it svapflA bliiiVHneshu asa j-aA inie dj-avfipri- - Il>id. 1. 16U, 4, ayam devanim apasiin npastnmaA ynJt ja.Tana rodas!

3 Ihiri. Vdl. 36, 4, ffaniia dii-aA r/ajiita prithivyM; 111.32, 8, dadliam yali prilliiviin utn dj-ani.

  • Leclarea on Ihe Science of Zanipiage, toI. ii. p. 473, note. Hea.ven

and canh are BometiinoB replaced by day and night, ilyuniae, from ivhich Dionysos Idynoisya = iufwjoi), their child and representative, in his


L.Gotii^lc


HESOTIIEISM, POLYTHEISM, MOMOTHEISM, ATHEISM. 269

Pri'thivi (earth). Thou, O Indra, sliookest the top of heaven." ^ Such expressions, ■which are pliysically true, as appUed to the god of the thunder-storm, be- fore whom " the earth shall quake, and the heaven shall tremble, the sun and the moon shall be dark, and the stars shall withdraw their shining," would soon be interpreted morally, and then convey the idea of India's greatness and supremacy. Thus one poet says,^ " The greatness of Indra indeed exceeds the heaven (that is, Dyaus), exceeds the earth (that is, PWthivi), and the sky." Another says,^ "Indrn ex- ceeds heaven and earth ; they are but as half com- pared with him."

Next would follow meditations on the relative po- sition of these deities, of father and son, and in tlie end it would have to be admitted that the son, the valiant Indra, with his thunderbolt and his lightning- arrows, was greater than his father, the serene sky, greater than his mother, the immovable earth, greater also than the other gods. " The other gods," one poet says, " were sent away like (shriveled up) old men ; thou, Indra, becamest the king.* We see thus iiow Indra, too, rose to be another supreme god. "No one is beyond thee," says one poet, "no one is better than thou art, no one is like unto tliee." ^ In the majority of the hymns of the Veda he is preemi- nently the supreme god, yet again not to that extent

' RiB-Vedfl, I, 54, i.

a Ibid. I. 81, 9, asyn it eva pra ririta mahitvain iivah prilhivyih pari antarikehiU.

s Ibid. VI. 30, I; ardharn it asya prati rodasi ubha ; X. 119, 7, nalii inc rodasi ubhe Rnyam pakEbam kaaa prati.

  • Ibid. IV. 19, 2, av-a asWjaiita jrivraj-aS na devSft bhuvaA samrat indra

satrayoiii/i.

5 Tbid. IV. 30, 1, aakih indra tvat uttaraA, na jyajan ai-ti vritrahan,


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270 HKKOTHEISJI, POLYTHEISM, IIONOTHEISJI, A'nil^iSJl.

that we could compare his position with thut of Zeiis. Neitber are tlie other gods tilwaya subordinate to him, nor can we say that they are all cooi-dinate. Though in some cases certain gods are associated to- gether, and some, particularly ludra, represented as greater than others, yet these other gods, too, have their day, and, -when tliey are asked to bestow their blessings, there is no language too strong to magnify their power and wisdom.

HYMN TO INDRA, AS A SUPREME GOD.

I shall give you the translation of one hymn ad- dressed to Indra, and of another addressed to VaruTia, in order to show you what is meant by Henotheism, by a religion in which each god, while he is being invoked, shares in all the attributes of a supreme be- ing. Yon mnsfc not expect anything very poetical, ill our own sense of the word. Those ancient poets had no time for poetic ornamentation or mere splen- dor of words. They labored hard to find the right expression for what they wished to say. Every happy expression was to them a relief, each hymn, however poor it may seem to us, an heroic feat, a true sacrifice. Every one of their words weighs and tells ; but when we come to translate them into mod- ern language, we often feel inclined to give it up in despair. llig-Veda, IV. 17 ; —

" Thou art great, O Indra I To thee alone has the Earth, has Heaven willingly yielded dominion. When thou liadst struck dewn Yritni with might, thou lettest loose the streams which the di-agon had swallowed. (1.)

"At the birth of thy splendor, Heaven trembled, the Earth trembled, from fear of the anger of her


HENOTBEISM, POLYTHEISM, MOXOTHEISM, ATHEISM. 271

own son. The strong mountains danceJ, the deserts were moistened, the waters flow along. (2.)

" He cleft the mountains, with might whirling thunderbolts, and steadily showing his prowess. Re- joicing he killed Vrt'tra with his bolt, the waters came forth quickly, after their strong kouper had been killed. (3.)

" Thy father, Dyans, was considered powerful (through thee) 5 he who had made ludra, was the cleverest of all workmen : for he had begotten one who is brilliant, and whose thunderbolt is good, who, like the earth, is not to be moved from his place. (4.)

"Indra, who is invoked by many, who alone can move the earth, the king of the people : all creatures rejoice in him, the only true one; praising the bounty of the powerful god. (5.)

" All libations (somas) always belonged to him ; to him, the great one, belonged always the most delightful delights. Thoti wast forever the treasurer of treasures; thou, Indra, settest all people to their share. (6.)

" As soon as thou wast born, O Indra, thou settest all people fearing. Thou, hero, cuttest asunder with thy thunderbolt the serpent who lay across the down-rushing waters. (7.)

" Praise Indra, the ever-striking, the bold, the wild, the great, the boundless, the manly hero with the good thunderbolt! He kills Vri'tra, he conquers booty, he gives wealth, the wealthy, the generous, (8,)

" He disperses the hosts that have gathered to- gether, he who alone ia renowned as mighty in battle. He brings home the booty which he has conquered ; let us bo dear to him in his friendship ! (9.)

" He is renowned as conquering and kiUing, he also


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212 HENOTIIEISM, POLVTIIEISM, MOTOTilEISM, ATHEISM.

brings forth tlie cattle in the figlit. Wlien Imira is serious in his anger, tlieii all that is finu trembles and fears him. (10.)

" Iiidra conquered the cattle, he conquered gold and horses ; he the powerful, who breaks all the strongholds.' Rich in men by these his [lowerful men, he is a divider of treasure and a collector of wealth. (11)

" How ch loes I idra mind his mother, or the father wl o beg 1 1" i ludra who rouses his strength in a nio e t 1 ke tl e whirlwind rushing along with thunderi g clou Is (1 )

" He n kes 1 n eless him who had a, home ; he the mighty, st p tl e 1 ist into a cloud. He breaks everythii g ] ke D} s (the sky), the wielder of the thunderbolt ^ — uill he place the singer in the midst of wealth? (1-3.)

" He drove forth the wheel of the sun, he then stopped Etasa in his march. Tni-ning round, he threw him into the black ^ abyss of night, into the birthplace of this sky. (14.)

" As A ewer is drawn up in a well, thus we poets, wishing for cows, wishing for horses, wishing for booty, wishing for women, bring near to ourselves Indra to be our fnend, the strong one who givea us women, and whose help never fails. (10.)

"Be thou our defender, appearing as our friend; look down upon as, thou, the comforter of the sac- rificera, the friend, the fatlier, the best of fathers, who gives fi-eedom, and grants life to him who asks for it. (17.)

' Crassman reads pOrbhia fur pimV. « Cf. Rig-Ve<lii, X, 45, 4, Btanavan iva dvaiiS.

s Even ivhen reading li«jhna 'in stead of kWslisai, Uie sense remains very ob^tui'p.


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HtNOTHEISM, POLYTHEISM, MOMOTHEISM, ATHEISM. 273

"Be thou the friend, tlie protector of all who de- sire thy friendship. When thou hast been praised, O Indra, give life to him who glorifies thee ! Associ- ated together we have sacrificed to thee, miignifjing thee, O Indra, by these works. (IS.)

" Indra is praised as the powerful, because he, being one, kills many matchleas enemies. Neither men nor gods can resist him in whose keeping this his friend and poet stands. (19.)

" May Indra the all-mighty, the powerful, the sup- porter of men, the invulnerable, make all this true for us indeed! Thou who art the king of all gene- rations, give us what is the mighty glory of the poet." (20.)

HYJUt TO TAEUjVA as A SUPREME GOD.

The next hymn is addressed to VaruJia (Rig-Veda, II. 28) : —

" This (world) belongs to the wise king Aditya : may he overcome all beings by his might ! I seek a hymn of praise for the god who is most gracious to the sacrifices, for the bounteous Vavu«a. (1.)

" Let us be blessed in thy service, Varuna, who always think of thee and praise thee ; greeting thee day after day, like the fires on the attar, at the ap- proach of the rich dawns. (2.)

" O VaruMa, our guide, let ua be in thy keeping, thon who art rich in heroes and praised fur and wide ! And you, unconquered sons of Aditi, deign to accept us as your friends, O gods ! (S.)

" Aditya, the ruler, sent forth these rivers ; they follow the law of Varuna. They tire not, they cease not; like birds they fly quickly everywhere. (4.)

" Take from me my sin, like a fetter, and we shall


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274 HENOTIIEISM, POLYTHEISM, JIOXOTHEISM, ATHEISM,

iiicreiise, O Varuwa, the spring of tliy la,w. Let not the thread be cut, while I weave my song ! Let not the form of the workman break before the time ! (5.)

" Take far away from me this terror, Vaviwa, thou, O righteous king have mercy on me ! Like as a rope from a calf remove from me my sin ; for away from thee I am not master even of the twinkhng of an eye. (6.)

" Do not strike ns, Varuna, with weapons which at thy will hurt the evii-doer. Let us not go where the light haa vanished ! Scatter our enemies that we live. (7.)

" We did formerly, O VaruJia, and do now, and ehall in future, sing praises to thee, O mighty one ! For on thee, un conquer iible hero, rest all statutes immovable, as if establislied on a rock. (8.)

" Move far away from me all self-committed guilt, and may I not, O king, suffer for what others have committed ! Many dawns have not yet dawned : grant us to live in them, O Varuwa I (9.)

" Whether it be my companion or a friend, who, while I was asleep and trembling, uttered fearful spells against me, whether it be a thief or a wol£ wJio wishes to hurt me, — protect us against them, Varuwa." (10.)

A Greek poet could not say much more in praise of Zeus, yet I could easily give you selections from other hymns in which the same and even stronger language is used of Agni, Mitra, Soma, and other


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HESOTIIKISM, POLYTHEISM, MONOTHEISM, ATHEISM, 275


HEXOTHEISM, THE DIALECTIC PERIOD OF EELIGIOS.

This, then, ia what is meant by henotheism, a phase of religious thought with which we have becowiu ac- quainted for the first time through the Veda, though there can be little doubt tiuit other religions also had to pass through it. In a History of Ancient Sanskrit I>iterature which I published m 1859, 1 had already called attention to this henotheistic phase of religion. " When these indiyidual goda are inroked," I said (p. 532), "they are not conceived as limited by the power of others, as superior or inferior in I'ank. Each god is to the mind of the suppliant as good as all the gods. He is felt at the time as a real divinity, as su- preme and absolute, in spite of the necessary liinita- tions which, to our mind, a plurality of gods must entail on every single god. All the rest disappear from the vision of the poet, and lie only who is to ful- fill their desires stands in full light before the eyes of the worshipers. ' Among you, O gods, there is none that is small, and none that ia young : you are ail great indeed,' is a sentiment which, tliough perhaps not so distinctly expressed as by the poet Manu Vai- vasvata, nevertheless underlies all the poetry of the Veda, Although the gods are sometimes distinctly invoked as the great and the small, the young and the old (Rig- Veda, I. 27, 13), this is only an attempt to find the most comprehensive expression for the divine powers, and nowhere is any one of the gods represented as the slave of others."

It must not be supposed, however, that what I call henotheism, in order to keep it distinct from poly- theism, in its ordinary meaning, existed in India only. We see traces of it in Greece, in Italy, in Germany.


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276 HKXOTHEISM, rOLYTHEISU, SIOXOTirKISM, ATHEISM.

"We see it most clearly duving that period whicli pre- cedes tlie formation of nations out of independent ti-ibes. It is, if I may say so, anarchy, as preceding monarchy, a communal aa distinct from an imperial form of religion. It is what may best he descrihed as the dialectic period of religion. For as the dialects of a language exist before a language, before what is afterwards called the common language of the people, so it is in the case of religions. Tliey arise round the hearth of every family. When families become united into tribes, the single hearth becomes the altar of a village; and wlten different tribes combine into a state, the different altars (sedes) become a temple (sedes) or sanctuary of the whole people. This proc- ess is natural, and therefore universal. Only we do not see it anywhere so clearly in its very growth as in the Veda.

THE SDPREMACY OF DIFFERENT DEVAS.

A few examples will mate this still clearer.^ In the first "hymn of the second Ma,nd3.\a, Agiii (fire) is called the rulef of the unirerse, the lord of men, the wise king, the father, the brother, the son, the friend of men ; nay, all the powers and names of the other gods are distinctly ascribed to Agni. The hymn be- longs, no doubt, to the more modern compositions ; yet, though Agni is thus highly exalted in it, nothing is said to disparage the divine character of the other , gad,.

What could be said of Indra we saw just now in the hymn addressed to bim. In the hymns as well as in the later Br^hmanas, he is celebrated as the

i( SansMt Lilerature,


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HF.XOTJlElSM, POLYTHEISM, MONOTHEISM, ATHEISM. 277

strongest, as the most heroic of gods ; aiid the burden o£ one of the songs in the tenth book is " Vlsmasmfid Indra uttara^ ! Indra is greater than all ! "

Of another god, of Soma, it is said that he was born great, and that he conquers every one,^ He is called the king of the world,^ he has the power to prolong the life of men,® nay, in one sense even the gods are indebted to him for their life and immortal- ity.* He is called the king of heaven and earth, of men and gods.^

If we read the hymns which are addressed to Va- rurta (^ovjiavus'), we perceive again that the god here invoked is, to the mind of the poet, snpreme and al- mighty.

What more could human language achieve, in try- ing to express the idea of a divine and supreme power, than what our poet says of Varujia, " Thou art lord of iili, of heaven and earth " (I, 25, 20) ; or, as it is said in another hymn (II. 27, 10), " Thou art the king of all, of those who are gods, and of those who are men ? " Nor is VaroMa represented as the lord of nature only ; he knows the order of nature, and upholds it, for this is what is meant by his epithet dhj-itavrata. The vratas, or laws of nature, are not to be shaken ; they rest on Varujia, as on a rock. Varujta therefore knows the twelve months, and even the thirteenth ; he knows the course of the wind, the birds in the air, and the ships on the sea.

1 Rig-Veda, IX. 59, 4, givamtnuh. abhava* matSn indo visvtn abhi it asi.

2 Ibid. IX. 96, 10, abhljaslipSA bhuvanaeva ri^S.

' Ibid. Vlll. 43, J, pra na* ftyuS givase soma tiriA. ' Ibid. IX. Sr. a, pita devSnitin janila sudaitsbaA visbdmbbaS diva* dboriiiia/i prithivySA. f Ibid. IX. 97,34, raffadevanam .ita martjanam.


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278 HESOTJiLIdM, rOLYTilEISM, MOSOTHEISSI, ATHEISM.

He knows all the wondrous works of nature, and he looks not only into the past, but into the futiu-e also. But more tliaai all this, VaruHa watches also over the order of tlie moral worlJ, Thus in one hymn the poet begins with a confession that he has neglected the works of Varuna, that he liaa offended against his laws. He craves liis pai-don ; he appeals in self- defense to the weakness of human nature ; he depre- cates death as the reward of sin. He hopes to soothe the god by his prayers, as a horee is soothed by kind words. " Be good," he says, in the end, " let ua speak together again." Who can read this without being reminded of the words of the Psalm, " For He know- eth our frame. He remenihereth that we are dusfc ? "

But even this Varuna is not supreme ; not even he is tlie One, without a second. He is almost alivaya represented in fellowship with another, Slitra, with- out any indication that either Varuwa is greater than Mitra, or Mitra greater than Varuna.

This is what I call henotheism, a worship of sin- gle gods, which must be cai'efully distinguisiied both from monotheism, or the worsliip of one god, involv- ing a distinct denial of all other gods, and from poly- theism, the worship of many deities which together form one divine polity, under the control of one su- preme goil,

FnRTHEE DEVELOrMEST OP HESOTHEISM.

Let ns now see what became of this Vedic heno- theism in its further development.

Fii-st of all, we find that several of tliese single deities, having sprung from one and the same source, have a tendency, after a very short career of their own, to run together. Dyaus %va3 the sky as the


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BENOTHEISJI, POLYTHEIS.M, MOSOTHEISM, ATIIEISII. 279

ever-present light. Varuna was the sky as the all- embracing. Mitra was the sky as lighted up by the light o£ the morning. Surya was the sun as shining in the sky, Savit/i was the eun as bringing light and life, Vishnu was the ann as striding with three steps across the sky ; Indra appeared in the sky, as the giver of rain ; Rudra and the Maruts passed along the sky in thunder-storms ; V3,ta and V^yn were the winds of the air ; Agni was fire and light, wherever it could be perceived, whether as rising out of darkness in the morning, or sinking into darkness in the evening. The same applies to several of the minor deities.

Hence it happened constantly that what was told of one deity could be told of another likewise ; the same epithets are shared by many, the same stories are told of different gods.

And not the solar deities only, such as Siirya, but Indra, the rain-god, the Maruts, the storm-gods, were all called the sons of Dyaus, or the sky ; and as the sky was conceived as the husband of the earth, the earth might become the mother of all the gods.

When the sun rose, it was supposed not only to lighten, but to reveal and spread out heaven and earth ; and from that it was but a small step to rep- resenting heaven and earth as brought back to us, or made for us, by the sun. The same achievement, however, was likewise ascribed to Indra, to Varuna, and to Agni, who ia the light of the sun, and to Vishnu, the god who measures the world with hia three steps.

From another point of view, Agni is supposed to bring back the sun, and the same feat is by other poets ascribed to Indra, to Varuna, and to Vishnu.


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280 IIEXOTHEISM, POLYTHEISM, MOXOTHEIS.II, ATHIilSJl.

Tbough the great battle against diirkiiess and the clouds ia chiefly waged by Iiidra, yet Dyaus also wields the thunderbolt, Agni destroys the demons of dai-kness, Vishnu, tlie Maruts, and Par^anya, all take part in the same daily or yearly battle.

The old poets saw all this as well as we do, and they often go so far as to declare that one god is identical with others.^ Tlius Agni, really the god of fire, is said to be Indra and VishJiu, Savitj-f, Pfishau, Rudra, and Aditi ; nay, he is said to be all the gods." In a verse of the Atbarva-Veda we read (XIII. 3, 18):-

" In the evening Agni becomes Varuna ; he be- comes Mitra when rising in the morning ; having be- come Savitri he passes through the sky ; liaving be- come Indra he warms the heaven in the middle."

Sui-ya, the sun, is identified with Indra and Agni ; Savitri with Mitra and Pflshan ; Indra with Varnwa ; Dyaus, the sky, with Partj-anya, the rain-god. All this was no doubt very important for helping the Brahmaus to reduce the nnmber of independent de- ities ; but it left them still very far removed from monotheism.

Another expedient adopted by the ancient poets, and which seems quite peculiar to the Veda, is the formation of dual deities.^ The names of two gods who shared certain functions in common were formed into a compound with a dual termination, and this compound became the name of a new deity. Thus

1 Muir, S(in«tn"( Texia, v. p. 213. a Big- Veda, V. 3.

  • Ths most iinpoitant of these dual deities are —

Agiii-sliomau. Iiidra-hriliaspati. Paryarya-vitau.

Indra-viya. rndri-vaniBflu. Mitra-varunau.


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HEXO'l'HElSM, POLYTHEISM, MONOTHEISM, ATHEISM. 281

we have hymns not only to Mitra and Varujia, hut to Mitr&Viirunau as one ; nay, sometimes they are called the two Mitras and the two Varnnas.

A third expedient was to comprehend all the goda by one common name, to call them Visve Devas, the All-gods, and to address prayers and sacrifices to them in their collective capacity.

Lastly, there was that other expedient, which to ns seems to he the most natural of all, in order to bring the craving for one god into harmony with the existence of many gods, viz., the expedient, adopted by the Greeks and Romans, of making one of the gods supreme above all the rest ; thus satisfying the desire for a supreme power, the cts xaipavo^ tiTTiB, and not breaking entirely with the traditions of the past, and the worship paid to individual manifestations of the divine in nature, such as were Apollon and Athe- na, or Poseidon and Hades, by the side of Zeus. If it is true, as has sometimes been suggested, that the introduction of a monarchical system among the goda existed only among people whose political system was monarchical,' we might argue from the absence of a king of gods in ancient India to the absence of kingiy government in that country.

TENDENCY TOWARDS MONOTHEISM.

Attempts, however, were made by the Vedic Ar- yans also to establish some kind of supremacy among their gods, though not vnih the success which these attempts hjid in Greece and elsewhere.

We saw already that certain gods, such as Savitri, ^ AriHttelis Pi>litica, i. 2, 7: " And therefore all people say that the gode also liad a king, because they themselves had kings either formerly or DOW ; for men create Jhe gods after their own image, not only with re- gard to their form, but also with regard to their manner of life."



282 KEXOTHEISSI, TOLYTHEISM, JiOSOTilEISH, ATHEISM.

the Bun, Vamna, and otliers, were eonceivod not only as having revealed the world by tlieii- light, but as having spread out heaven and earth, as baviiig meas- ured, and at last as having made them,^ They thus received the epithets not only of visvaAakshas, all- seeing, vievavyaAaa, all-embracing, visvavedas, all- knowing, but also of visvakarman,^ maker of all things, Px-a^apati, lord of all men ; and these two epithets, after a time, were raised apparently into names of new deities. There are a few hymns ad- dressed to Vigvakacman, the Creator, and Pra«jfapati, the Lord, in which there are but small traees left of the solar germ from whence they sprang. Some of them remind us of the language of the Psalms, and one imagines that a deity such as Pra</iipati or Visva^ karman would really have satisfied the monotheistic yearnings, and constituted the last goal in the growth of the religious sentiment of the ancient Aryans of India. But tliis, as we shall see, was not to be.

VISVAILVKSIAN, THE MAKER OF ALL THINGS.

I shiili read yoii a few extracts from the Rig- Veda, taken from some of these so-called later hymns, in which the idea of the one God, the creator and ruler of the world, is very clearly expressed.

And iirst some verses addressed to Visvakar- man : ^ —

" What was the place, what was the support, and where was it, from whence the all-seeing Visvakar- man (the maker of all things), when producing the earth, displayed the heaven by his might ? (2.)


I Eig-Vwlft,


V.


. B5, b,


, manena iva


. laslhiviln anf


prithivim sfirv



I, hB« 


■ho standing



with the sun, f






1 Indra also



i-Uvaknrmau, Eig-Veda, VIH. U8,


« Eig-Veda,


Ji.


81, 2.




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HENOTHEISM, POLYTHEISJT, lIOXO'niEISM, ATHEISII, 283

" He, tlie one God, whose eyes are everywhere, whose mouth, whoae arms, whose feet are every- where ; he, when producing heaven and earth, forces them together with his arms and with the wings. (3.)

" What was the forest, what was the tree,* from which they cut out heaven and earth ? Ye wise, seek in your mind that place on which he stood when supporting tlie worids. (4.)

" Let us invoke to-day, for our protection in battle, the lord of speech, Yisvakarnian, the maker of all things, who inspires our mind. May he accept all our offerings, he who is a blessing to everybody, and who performs good deeds for our safety ! " (7.)

In another hymn, equally addressed to Visyakar- man,^ we read : —

" He who is the father that begat us, the ruler who knows tlie laws, and all the worlds, he who alone gave names to the gods, all other creatures go to ask of him. (0.)

" Beyond the sky, beyond the earth, beyond the Devas and the Aaaras,^ what was the first germ which tlie waters bore, wherein all gods were seen ? (5.)

" The waters bore that first germ in which all the gods came together. That one thing in which all creatures rested was placed in the lap of the un- born. (6.)

" You will never know him who created these things; something else stands between you and him. Enveloped in mist and with faltering voice, the poets walk along, rejoicing in life." (7.)

' We eay iii^it or inateries, matter; Rig-Veda, X. 31, 7.

2 Rig-Veda, X. 82.

3 Or, it may be, '-beyond the living gods."


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HIIN'OTIIEISM, POLYTHEISM, MOXOTHKISJI, ATHEISM.


PRACAPATI, THE LOKD OF CEEATUEES.

The next deity we have to consider is Prai/^pati, the lord of all creatures, in many respects identical with Visvakarman, the maker of all things,^ yet en- joying a greater individuality than Vievakarraan, par- ticularly in the Brflhma^ias. In some of the hymns of the Veda, Pra^S,pati occurs still as a mere epithet of Savitri, the sun, e. g.i —

" The supporter of heaven, the Pra^Spati of the world, the sage puts on his brilliant armor; shining forth, spreading and filling the wide space, Savitn creates the highest happiness." ^ (1.)

He is also invoked as bestowing progeny, and there is one hymn (Rig- Veda, X. 121) where he is cele- brated as the creator of tlie universe, as the first of ail gods, also called Hiranyagarbha, the golden germ, or the golden egg.

"In the beginning there arose Hirawyagarbha (the golden germ) ; he was the one born lord of all this. He established the earth and this sky : — Who is the god to whom we sliali offer our sacrifice ? (1.)

" He who gives breath, 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 sacri- fice ? (2.)

" He who through his power became the sole king of the breathing and slumbering world, he who gov- erns all, man and beast : — Who is the god to whom we shall offer our sacrifice ? (3.)

" He through whose power these snowy mountains

1 Satapaiha Bratimana, VIII. 3, 1, 10, Pra/,apatir vai Viivakarma.


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HEXOTHEISM, POI.YTHEISSI, MON"OIHEISM, ATHEISM. 285

are, and the sea, they say, with the distant river (the RasS.) : he of whom these regions are the two arms :

— Who is the god to whom we shall offer our sacri- fice ? (4.)

"He through whom the sky is bright and the earth firm, he through whom the heaven wiis estab- lished, nay, the highest heaven ; he who measured tlie space in the skj' : — Who is the god to whom we shali ofEer our sacrifice ? (5.)

" He to whom heaven and earth,' standing firm by hia will, look up, trembling in their mind ; he over whom the rising sun shines forth : — Who is the god to whom we shall offer our sacrifice ? (6.)

" When the great waters went everywhere, hold- ing the seed, and generating the fire, thenee arose he who is the sole life of the gods : — Who is the god to whom we shall offer our sacrifice ? (7.)

" He who by his might looked even over the waters which held power and generated the sacrificial fii-e, he who alone is Crod above all gods : ^ — Who is the god to whom we shall offer our sacrifice ? (8.)

" May he not hurt us, he who is the creator of the earth, or he, the righteous, who created the heaven ; he who also created the bright and mighty waters :

— Who is the god to whom we shail offer our sacri- fice ? (9.)

" Pra^pati, no other than thou embraces all these created things. May that be ours which we desire when sacrificing to thee : may we be lords of wealth ! " (10.)

With such ideas as these springing up in the minds of the Vedic poets, we should have thought


'5 Masfozlne, 13T8, p. 131.

^dty


2S6 IIKOTHEISM, rOLYTHEISJI, MOXOTHElSir, ATHEISM.

that the natural development of their old religion could only have been towards monotlieism, towards the worship of one personal god, and that thus in India also the liiglieat form would have been reached which man feels inclined to give to the Infinite, after all other forins iiiid iiaines have failed. But it was not so. Hymns like those I have qnoted are few in number in tlie Kig-Veda, and tliey do not lend to anything much more definite and solid in the next period, that of the Br&Umanas, In the Brflhmajias, Pi"qIc


m^KOTHEISM, POLVTHEISM, MOSOTHEISir, ATHEISM. 287

lower vital breath he created men. Afterwards he created death as one who should be a devourer for all living creatures. Of that Pra^Spati one half was mortal, the other immortal, and witli that half which was mortal he was afraid of death.^

TENDENCY TOWARDS ATHEISSI. Here we see that even the authors of the Erfih- mayias perceived that there was something mortal in Pra^^pati, and there ia another passage where t!iey go so far as to declare that he at last fell to pieues, and that all the gods went away from him, with one exception, viz., Manyu.^

And so it waa indued, though in a different sense from that intended by his worsliipers.

The Hindu mind had grown, and was growing, stronger and stronger. In its search after the infi- nite it had been satisfied for a time by resting on the mountains and rivers, by asking tlieiv protection, pvjiising their endless grandeur, though feeling all the time that they were but signs of something else that was sought for. Our Aryan ancestors had then learnt to look up to the sky, the sun, and the dawn, and there to see the presence of a living power, half- revealed, and half-hidden from their senses, those senses which were always postulating something be- yond what they could grasp.-

Tliey went farther still. In the bright sky they perceived an illuminator ; in the all-encircling firma- ment an embracer ; in the roar of thunder and in the violence of the storm they felt the presence of a shoutcr and of furious strikers ; and out of the rain they created an Indra, or giver of rain.


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288 riENOTHEisji, poi-ytueisw, monotheism, atheism.

With these last steps, however, came iilso the first reaction, the first doubt. So long as the thoughts o£ the ancient Aryan worshipers had something niitni- fest or tangible to rest on, they might, no doubt, in their religious jispirations, far exceed tlie liinits of actual observation ; still no one could ever question the existence or the sensuous foreground of what they chose to call their Devas or their gods. The mountains and rivers were always there to speak for themselves ; and if the praises bestowed upon them seemed to be excessive, they might be toned down, without calling in question the very existence of these beings. The same applied to the sky, the sun, and the dawn. They also were always there ; and though they might be called mere visions and ap- pearances, yet the human mind is so made tliat it admits of no appearance without admitting at the same time something that appears, some reality or substance. But when we come to the third class of Devas or gods, not only intangible but invisible, the case is different. Indra, as the giver of rain, Rodra, as the thunderer, were completely creations of the human mind. All that was given was the rain and the thunder, but there was nothing in nature that could be called an appearance of the god himself. Thunder and rain were not considered divine, but only as the work of beings who themselves never assumed a visible shape.

Man saw their work, but that was all ; no one could point to the sky or the sun or the dawn or anything else visible to attest the existence of Indra and Rudra in their original meaning and character. It is something like the difference between being able to use a Inunan skull or only a chipped flint in order


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HF.NOTHEISM, POLYTHEISM, J[0X0TREIS11, ATHEISM. 289

to proTS tlie presence of human life and human ac- tivity in distant periods of liistovy. We saw before that Indra, for the very reason that there was nothing in nature to wliich he clnng, nothing visible that eoiild arrest his growth in the mind of his wor- shipers, deviiloped more than other gods into a personal, dramatic, and mythological being. More battles are recorded, more stories are told, of Indra than of any other Vedic god, and this helps us to understand how it was that he seemed even to the ancient poets to have ousted Dyaus, the Indian Zeus, from his supremacy. But a Nemesis was to come.

This very god who seemed for a time to have thrown all the others into the shade, whom many would call, if not the supreme, at least the most popular deity of the Veda, was the first god wliose very existence was called in question,

FAITH IN INDRA, BOUETS ABOUT INDRA, It sounds strange that for Indra more than for any other god, faith (sraddli^) ia required in the Vedio hymns. " When the fiery Indra hurls down the thunderbolt, then people put faith in him," we read.^ Again : " Look at this his great and mighty work, and believe in the power of Indra." ^ " Do not, O Indra, hurt our nearest kin, for we believe in thy great power," ^ " Sun and moon move in regular

1 lilg-Teda, I. 55, 5, adha hanA irat dndliati (vishiniate indrJlya vagrata nighanighnate vadliani. "AUe tonantem crediditnus Jovem." Cf. Rig- Vcda. I. 104, 7.

' Ibid. I. 103, 6, tat asya idam paij-afa bhiiri pushfam, arat indrasya dhatlana virySyn.

  • Ibid. I. 104, 6, ma aiitaram bhuiiam ^ ririshaft nai, sraddhitam tfl

mahate indriyHya,


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290 HESOTHEISJI, roLYTHEISM, HONOTHKISM, ATHKISJI.

succession, that we may have faith, O Iiidra." ^ Such appeals sound almost like a theological argument, and "we should hardly expect to meet with it at so early a time. But in the history of the human mind, too, we may learn the lesson that evei-ything new is old, and everytlung old new. Think how closely the world and the thoughts of men hang together. The word here used for the first time for faith, firaddhii, is the vei-y same word which meets us again in the Latin credo, and still lives in our own creed. Where the Romans said credldi, the Brahmans said sraddadhau ; where the R(jmana said creditiim, the Brahmins said graddhitam. That ■word and that thought, therefore, miist have existed before the Aryan family broke up, before Sanskrit was Sanskrit and before Latin was Latin. Even at that early time people believed what neither tiieir senses could apprehend nor their reason comprehend. They believed ; and they did not only believe, as a fact, hut they had formed a word for belief, that is, they were conacions of what they were doing in thus believing, and they consecrated that mental function by calling it srad-dhd.^ I cannot enter into all that is implied by this coincidence ; 1 can only here

^ RiS-Veda, I. 102, 3, asme Eurva<t!tndramase abbiiabshe iraddhe ham indra I-jrataA vilarturaiii.

2 Tlia ofiKioal meatiiiis of srat in (rnd-dhSiB not clear (o me. I cannot adopt one uf tb;. latest conjectures, that it etaads for Sk. hard or hI-^d, heart, and that <raddha meant ori^ually lo take to heart: not on account of phonetii! difficulties, but because we have in the Veda aiao trat kri; Rig- Veda. VIU. 76, 2, mat viivi Taryft krfdiii, malie all wishes true ! I bclici-e wiih Itenfey that arat k connected with tru, to hear, and that the original conception wua to hold a thing as heard, a> known, as true. But I cannot as yet olTerany satiefactory explanation of il9 etymology. If srat ia a contraction of wavot, then iravat may stand for iravas, as ashat, etc., for ushns. Conlraclion before dha ia common, but we should expect srot


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HKtJOTHEISM, POLYTHEISM, MOXOTREISM, ATHEISM. 201

call your attention to the endless vista which that one word opens before our eyes far beyond tlie Alps and the Caucasus to the Himalayan mount:vins.

This very god, however — Indra — who was to be, before all others, believed in, while most o£ the other gods were simply taken for granted, was also tlie first god that roused the skepticism of his worshipers. Thus we read; ^ —

" Offer praise to Indra, if you desire booty ; true praise, if be truly exists. One and the other says, There is no Indra. Who Las seen him ? Whom shall we praise ? "

In this hymn the poet turns round, and introduc- ing Indra himself, makes him say : —

" Here I am, O worshiper ! behold me liere. In might I overcome all creatures." ^

But we read again in another hymn:^ —

" The terrible one of wbom they ask where he is, and of whom they say he that he is not ; he takes away the riches of his enemy, like the stakes at a game. Believe in him, ye men, for he is indeed Indra."

When we thus see the old god Dyaus antiquated by Indra, Indra himself denied, and Pra^apati falling to pieces, and when another poet declares in so many words that all the gods are but names, we might imagine that the stream of religious thought, which sprang from a trust in mountains and rivers, then proceeded to an adoration of the sky and the sun, 1 Rig-Veda, Vril' 100, 3, pra su siomam bharata vigayaatah indrav* Bstyam yadi satyani asti, na indraft asli ili nfniai n tvaA ^ba, kaA im dsdorsa kHni abhi stav^ma. ^ Ayam aami jaritaA pa^'a mi iha vinv* jitanE abhi asmi mahnS. « lUiJ. II. 12, 5, yam sraa pri'iManti fcuha saft iti Klioram, uta im &hii/i na efhah asti iti enam, gah arayai pushliA vigah iv4 k minaii, srat asmai diiatta saft ^nasaft indraft.


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2iJ2 HENOTIIEISM, rOI.TTHElSM, MONOTHEISM, ATHIilSlI.

then grew into a woi'ship of invisible gocls, such as the sender of thunder-storms and the giver of Kiin, had well-nigli finished its course. We might expect in India the same catastrophe which in Iceland the poets of the Edda always predicted — the twilight of the gods, preceding the destruction of the world. We seem to have reached the stage when henotheism, after trying in vain to grow into an organized poly- theism on the one side, or into an exclusive monothe- ism on tlie other, would hy necessity end in atheism, or a denial of all the gods or Devas.

DIFFERENCE BETWEEN HONEST AND VULGAR ATHEISJI.

And so it did. Yet atheism is not the last word of Indian religion, though it seemed to be so for a time in some of the phases of Buddhism. The word itself, atheism, is perhaps out of place, as applied to the religion of India. The ancient Hindus had neither the Seot of the Homeric singers, nor the Cecis of the Eleatic philosophers. Their atheism, such as it was, would more correctly be called Adevism, or a denial of the old Devas. Such a denial, however, of what was once believed, but could be honestly believed no longer, so far from being the destruction, is in real- ity the vital principle of all religion. The ancient Aryans felt from the begining, ay, it may be, more in the beginning than afterwards, the presence of a Beyond, of au Infinite, of a Divine, or whatever else we may call it now; and they tried to gniap and comprehend it, as we all do, by giving to it name after name. They thought they had found it in the mountains and rivers, in the dawn, in the sun, in the sky, in the heavan, and the He ;tven- Father. But


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HESOTIIEISM, rOLYTliEISM, IIOXOTHEISM, ATHEISM, tlyd

af tev every name, there came the No ! What they looked for was like the mountains, like the rivers, like the dawn, like the sky, like the father ; but it Wiis not the mountains, not the rirei's, not tlie dawn, not the sky, it was not the father. It was something of all that, but it was also more, it was beyond all that. Even such general names as Asura or Deva could no longer satisEj' them. There may be Devas and Asn- ras, they said ; bnt we want more, we want a higher word, a purer thought. They forsook the bright Deyaa, not because they believed or desired less, but because they believed and desired more than the bright Devas.

Tliere was a new conception working in their mind ; and the cries of despair were but the harbingers of a new birth.

So it has been, so it always will be. There is an atheism which is unto death, there is another atheism which is the very Hfe-blood of all true faith. It is the power of giving up what, in our best, our most honest moments, we know to be no longer true ; it ia the readiness to replace the less perfect, however dear, however sacred it may have been to us, by the more perfect, however much it may be detested, as yet, by the world. It is the true self-surrender, the true self- sacrifice, the truest trust in truth, the truest faith. Without that atlieisra religion would long ago have become a petrified hypocrisy ; without that atheism no new religion, no reform, no reformation, no re- suscitation would ever have been possible; without that atheism no new life is possible for any one of us.

Let us look at the history of religion. How many men in all countries and all ages have been called

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294 IIESOTHEISM, POLYTHEISM, MONOTHEISM, ATHUSM.

atheists, not because they denied that there existed anything beyond the visible and the finite, ov because they declared that tlie world, such as it was, could be explained without a cause, without a purposf, without a God, but often because they differed only from the traditional conception of the Deity prevalent at the time, and were yearaing after a higher and purer conception of God than what they had learnt in their childhood.

In the eyes of the Brahmans, Buddha was an athe- ist. Now, some of the Buddhist schools of philosophy were certainly atheistical, but whether Gautama A'Sk- yamuni, the Buddha, was himself an atheist, is at least doubtful, and his denial of the popular Devas would certainly not make him so."

In the eyes of his Athenian judges, Sokrates was an atheist ; yet he did not even deny the gods of Greece, tut simply claimed the right to believe in something higher and more truly divine than Hepha- istos and Aphrodite.

In the eyes of the Jews, whoever called himself the son of God was a blasphemer, and whoever wor- shiped the God of his fathers after "that new way" was a heretic. The very name for the Cliristians among Greeks and Romans was atheists, adeoi.^

Nor did the same abuse of language cease altogether among the Christians themselves. In the eyes of AthanasiuB, the Ariiins were " devils, antichrists, ma- niacs, Jews, polytheists, atheists," ^ and we need not

' In the Ri'ipnath Inscription (321 B, c.) Amka takes crp.1it "that those gods who during this time wera considered fo be true in GnmhuilvTps, have now been abjured." Sea G. BUhler, Three New Edicts «/ Asoka (Bombay, 1S77], p. 29.

  • Eusebii Smyrnessis EphU rf« Bt. Polijcarpi jaarlijrin, 3, 9.

' Uv. Stanle}- in his Eastern Ckardi, p. 216, quotts the following string


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HKXOTHKISM, POLYTHEISM, MONOTHEISM, ATHEISM. 295

woiidiir if Arius did not take a ipuch more charitable view of the Athanasiaiis. Yet both Athanaaius and Arius were only striving to realize the highest ideal of Deity, each in hia own way, Arius fearing that Gentile, Atbanasius that Jewish errors might detract from ita truth and niajesty.^

Nay, even in later tiniea the same thoughtlessness of expression has continued in theological warfare. In the sixteenth century Servetus called Calvin a trinitarian and atheist,^ while Calvin considered Ser- vetus worthy of the stake (1553), because his view of the Deity differed from his own.

In the next centui-y, to quote only one case which has lately been more carefully reexamined, Vanini was condemned to have his tongue torn out, and to be burnt alive (1619 a. d.), because, as his own judge declared, though many considered him an beresiarch only, he condemned him as an atheist. As some re- cent writers, who ought to have known better, have joined in Graramont's condemnation of Vanini, it is but right that we should hear what that atheist said of God.

" You ask me what God is," he writes. " If I knew it, I should be God, for no one knows God, except God Himself. Though we may in a certain way discover Him in his works, like the sun through the clouds : yet we should not comprehend Him bet- is and the Ariana, as collected ia man's ed., ti. p. 34| ; " Derila, <hei»t9, dogA, wolves, lions, hares,

wa, cap, 3; Pflaiderer, Stligion^. ea la Trinity, Erinitaires et stli4-


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290 iii;>;oTui:is.M, rOLYiHEisii, iioxotheism, ATiii:id.M,

ter by tliat means. Let ua say, bowevei-, that He is the greatest good, the first Being, the whole, just, compassionate, blessed, cabii ; the creator, preserver, moderator, omniscient, omnipotent; the father, king, lord, rewarder, ruler; the beginning, tlie end, the middle, eteruid ; the author, life-giver, observer, the artificer, providence, the beuef;vctor. He alone is all ill all." '

The man who wrote this was burnt as an atheist. Such was in fact the confusion of ideas during the seventeenth century with regard to the true meaning of atheism, that so late as 1696 the Parliament at Edinburgh passed an Act ^ " against the Atheistical opinions of the Deists," and that men, such as Spi- noza and Archbisliop Tillotson,^ though they could no longer be burnt, were both branded indiscriminately as atheists.

Nor has even the eighteenth century been quite fi'ee from similar blots. Many men were called athe- ists even then, not because tbey dreamt of denying the existence of a God, but because they wished to purify tlie idea of the Godhead from what seemed to them Iiumiui exaggei-ation and bumiui error.

In our own time we have learnt too well what atheism does mean, to use the word thus lightly and thoughtlessly. Yet it is well that whoever dares to be honest towards himself and towards others, be he layman or clergyman, should always remember what men they were who, before him, have been called blasphemers, heretics, or atheists.

1 G. C. Vaniiii, da R. Palninbo (Napoli. 1878), p. 2T. ^ Mflcaalny, Iliitoiy of Easlnnd, chap. sxii. ; Cunningham, Rislory of tiK Chai-ch nfScolhrul, ii. p. 31-1. 8 Waoaulay, Flis/imj of Em^hnd, chiip. xvii. : " Ilu was an Arlan, a.


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HEXOTIIEISM, POLYTHEISM, MONOTIIEISU, ATHEISM. 297

There are moments in our life when those who seek most earnestly after God think they are forsaken of God ; when they hardly venture to ask themselves, Do I then beheve in God, or do I not ?

Let them not despair, and let us not judge harshly of them ; their despair may be better than many creeds.

Let me quote, in conclusion, the words of a great divine, lately deceased, whose honesty and piety have never been questioned. " God," he says, " is a great word. He who feels and understands that, will judge more mildly and more justly of those who confess that they dare not say that they believe in God."

Now I know perfectly well that what I have said just now will be misunderstood, will possibly be mis- interpreted. I know I shall be accused of having de- fended and glorified atheism, and of having repre- sented it as the last and highest point which man can reach in an evolution of religious thought. Let it be so ! If there ai'e but a few here present who understand what I mean by honest atheism, and who know how it differs from vulgar atheism, ay, from dishonest theism, I shall feel satisfied, for I know that to understand that distinction will often help us in the hour of our sorest need. It will teach us that while the old leaves, tlie leaves of a blight and happy spring, are falling, and all seems wintry, frozen, and dead within and around us, there is and tiiere must be a new spring in store for every warm and honest heart. It wiU teach us that honest doubt is the deepest spring of honest faith ; and that he only who has lost can &nd.


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298 HEXOTHEISM, POI.YTUEISJI, MOSOTHF.ISM, ATHKISJI.

How the Indian mind, having arnved at this sti^e, grappled Avith this, the last and greatest of all relig- ious problems, how it shook off, like another Laokoon, the coils of atheism, we shall see in our next and last lecture.


GooqIc


vri.

PHILOSOPHY AND RELIGION.


COLLAPSE OF THE GODS.

When the Aryan settlers in India bad arrived at the conviction that all their Devas or gods were mere names, we might imagine that they would have turned away in despair and disgust from what for ages they had adored and worshiped. Whether they had been deceived or had deceived themselves, the discovery that their old gods, their Indra, and Agiii, and Varuwa, were names and nothing but names, was most likely to have produced on them the same impression as when the Greeks saw the temples of their gods demolished, or when the Germans stood by to see their sacred oalis felled, neither Apollo nor Odin appeai'ing to avenge the sacrilege. But the result was totally different from what we should have expected. With the Greelcs and Romans and Ger- mans we know that their ancient gods, Avhen their course was run, disappeared eitlier altogether, or, if their existence could not be entirely annihilated, they were degraded into evil and mischievous spirits ; while there was at the same time a new reh'gion, namely Christianity, ready at hand, and capable of supplying those cravings of the heart Avhich can never be entirely suppressed.

In India there vf&s no such religion coming, as it


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300 rniLOSOPHT asd religion.

were, from outside, in which the Brahmans, after tiiey bad lost their old gods and protectors, could have taken refuge. So, instead of turning aside and making a new start, like the Greeks and Romans and Germans, they toiled on, on their own track, trusting that it -would lead them right, if they fainted not in their search after what Lad been present to tlieir minds from the fii^st awakening of their senses, but what they had never been able to grasp firmly, to comprehend, or to name.

They thre\y away the old names, but they did not throw away their belief in that which they had tried to name. After destroying the altai-a of their old gods, they built out of the scattered bricks a new altar to the Unknown God — unknown, unnamed, and yet omnipresent ; seen no more in the mountains and rivers, in the sky and the sun, in the rain and the thunder, but pi-eaent even then, and, it may he, nearer to them, and encii'ling them, no longer like VaruHa, the encircling and all-embracing ether, but more closely and more intimately, being, as they called it themselves, the very ether in their heart : it may be, the still small voice.

THE OBJECT OE DIVINE APPELLATION.

Let us remember, first, that the old poets of the Veda did not say that Mitra, Varuma, and Agni were names and names only. They said : ^ " They speak of Mitra, VaruMii, Agni ; then he is the heavenly bird Garutmat ; that which is, and is one, the poets 1 Eig-Teda, I. 161, 46,


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rHILOSOPlIY AND RELIGION. 301

call in various ways ; they speak of Yama, Agni, M&- tarievan."

Here then we Bee three things : first, that the poeta never doubted that there was sometliiiig ri;al (sat), of which Agni, Indra, and Varuwa, and all the rest, were but names.

Secondly, that that something real was with them one, and one only.

Thirdly, that it must not be called one, as a mas- culine, such as Pra^^pati was, and other gods, but as a neuter.

NEUTER NAMES HTGHEE THAN JIASCULINE OE FEMININE. Now this, no doubt, jars on our ears. We cannot bear the neuter as a name of the divine. With us the neuter generally conveys the idea of something purely material, dead, or impersonal. But it was not so in ancient language, that is, in ancient thought : it is not so even now in some of our modern lan- guages. On the contrary, in choosing the neuter the ancient sages tried to express something that should be neither male nor female, that should be in fact as far removed from weak human nature as weak human langui^e could weil express it; something that should be higher than masculine or feminine, not lower. They wanted a sex-less, by no means a life-less, or what some, without perceiving the contradiction in terms, would call an impersonal God.

There are other passages where, though the poets speak of one God, with many names, they still speak of him in the masculine. Thus we read in a hymn i to the sun, and where the sun is likened to



302 rHILOSOPHY ASD RELIGION.

a bii-Ll : ' " Wise poets represent by their words the bird, wlio is one, m many ways." This is to us pnre mytliology.

Less niythologically, but still very anthropomor- phously, the supreme Being is represented in the following verse : ^ —

" Who saw Him, when he was first born, when he who has no bones bore him who has bones ?

"Where was tlie breath, the blood, the self of the woild ? Wl w lit to isk this from any that knew it?"

Every o e of tl se words is pregnant with thought. " He who 1 1. bo es " ia an expression nsed to convey wl t el oul 1 express by saying, " He who lias no fo 1 te he who has bones " is meant

for that which has assumed consistency and form. " The breath and blood of the world," again, are at- tempts at expressing the unknown or invisible power wliich supports the world. " Breath" is in fact the nearest ajjproach to what we should now call the es- sence oi- substance of the world,

ATifAN, THE STJBJBCTrVE SELF,

This word, breath, in Sanskrit dtman, which ia generally translated by Belf, is a word which, as we shall see, liad a great future before it. Originally it meant breath, then life, sometimes body ; but far more tretjnently, the essence or the self. It became

» Rig-Teda X. 114, 6,

Euparnatn ripiU kavara/i val-obhi/i

fkam santam bahudh^ kalpayanti. 2 Rig-Vedfl, 1. 1G4, i.

ku/' ilsdarra prathnmam ^JyamAnani


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PHILOSOPHY AND RELIGION. 303

in fact a reflexive pronoun, like nuro's, ij)se, or self. It was not, however, entirely restricted to this gram- matical category, but entered upon a new career as the name of one of the highest philosophical abstrac- tions in India, or anywhere else. It was used to ex- press, not simply the lEgo or tlie I, for that Sffo, the AJiam, the I, was too much made up of the fleeting elements of this life. No, it expressed what was be- yond the Ego, what supported the Ego for a time ; but, after a time, treed itself from tlie fetters and conditions of the human Ego, and became again the pure Self.

Atman differs from words which in other languages, after originally expressing breath, came to mean life, spirit, and soul. It logt its meaning of breath at a very early time, and after it had been divested of its physical meaning, after it had served as a mere pro- noun, it became the vehicle of an abstraction more abstract even than ^u^^ or TrpfC/ia in Greek, anima or animtis in Latin, asu or prS,Ka in Sanskrit. In the Upanishads a belief in prfina, breath or spirit, as the true principle of existence, marks professedly a lower stage of philosophiciil knowledge than a belief in At- man, the Self. As with us the Self transcends the I, the Atman with the Hindus transcended the pr^ma, and finally absorbed it.

This is the way in which, at a later time, the an- cient Indian philosophers discovered the Infinite that supported their own being, the inward Self, as far beyond the Ugo.

ATJtAN, THE OBJECTIVE SELF.

Lot as now see how they tried to discover the in- finite in the outward or objective world.

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304 riLILOSOPHY ASD RELIGIOX,

The poets had rested for a time in tlie One, whom they conceived as the one god, but who was still mas- culine, active, slightly mythologiciil ; who was in fact a divine Ego^ not yet a divine Self. Suddenly, how- ever, we light on passages of a different character. We seem to be moving in a new world. All that is dramatic and mythological, every form and every name, is snixendered, and there remains only "the One," or that which exists, as a neuter, as a last at- tempt to grasp the iufinite.

The Vedic poets no longer glorify the sky or the dawn, they do not celebrate the prowess of Iiidra, or the wisdom of Visvakarman and Pra^^pati. They move about, as they say themselves, "as if enveloped in mist and idle speech."^ Another says:^ "My eai'3 vanish, my eyes vanish, and the light also which dwells in my Ikeart ; my mind with its far-off long- ing leaves me; what shall I say, and what shall I tliink ? "

Or again, " Knowing nothing myself, I ask the seers here, who know ; ignorant myself, that I may learn ; He who established the six worlds, is he that One which exists in the form of the unborn Being ? " *

These are the storms that announce a brighter sky, and a new spring.

At last,* the existence of that One, the Self, is 1 Eig-Veda, X. 83, 7,

nihSrena privrtiaA ffalpyS hi aaiitn'paS. uklhasiisafi iaranil. " Ibid. VI. 9, 6,

vi me kama patnvnlai. vi takshuft vi idam ^otiA hWdaye nhitain vat ; vi me raanai iarati diirnarlhift liim svit vakshj-ami kim u nu luanishj-e, ■ Ibid. I. 1G4, e,

fliikilvan Hkitushaft Sit alra kartn priH-iimi Tidmane na vidvan vi j'a/i tHalniiiblia i-ha( ini& lajjimsi a^asya rftpe i^im api svit ekam.

  • Rlg-Veda, X. 12B, 2.


.y


piriLOSoriiY akd keligion. aOo

boldly asserted, as existing by itself, existing before all created things, existing so long before the gods that even they, the gods, do not know from whence this creation sprang.

"Before there was anything," we are told, " before there was either death or immortality, before there was any distinction between day and night, there was that One. It bi-eathed breathless by itself, Other than it there nothing since has been. There was darkness then, everything in the beginning was hid- den in gloom — all was like the ocean, without a light. Then that germ which was covered by the husk, the One was brought forth by the power of heat," So tl a poet goes on brooding on the problem of the beg i g of 11 thinga, how the One became many, I ow tl e k own became known or named, how the infi te b c iie finite ; and he finally breaks off with tl e e 1 ues —

" Who knows the secret ? who proclaimed it here ? Whence, whence this manifold creation sprang ? The goda themselves came later into being — Who knows from whence this great creation sprang ? He from whom all this great creation came, — Whether liia will created or was mnte, — The most high seer, that ia in highest heaven, He knows it, or perchance even he knows not."

These ideas which in the hymns of the Rig- Veda appear only like the first dim stars, become more numerous, and more brilliant as time goes on, till at last they form a perfect galaxy in what is called the TJpanishads, the last literary compositions which etill belong to the Vedic period, but which extend their influence far beyond its limits.


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purLOSoriiY axd religion.


THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE UPAXISFIADS.

You remember tliat, npxt to what wo c;ill the age of the hymiia, followed the age of the BrdliiniLnus, ancient prose works intended to describe and to illus- trate the ancient sacrifices.

At tlie end of the BrdhmaKas we generally find what is called an Aranyaka, a forest book, a book intended for those who have left their house to dwell in the solitude ot the forest.

And at the end of the Aramyakas again or incor- porated within them, we find the oldest Upanishads, literally /Sbss/oms, or assemblies of pnpils round their master ; and in those Upanishads all the religious philosophy of the Vedic age is giithered up.

In order to give you an idea of the wealth of thought collected in these Upanishads, I may t«!l you that it was at first my intention to devote the whole of these lectures to an exposition of the doc- trines of the Upanishads. I should have found ample material in them ; while now I can only give you the slightest sketch of them in the short time that is still left to me.

There is not what could be called a philosophical system in these Upanishads. They are, in the true sense of the word, guesses at truth, frequently con- tradicting each other, yet all tending in one direc- tion. The key-note of the old Upanishads is " Know thy Self," but with a much deeper meaning than that of the TvM atawov of the Delphic oracle. The " Know thy Self " of the Upanishads means, know thy true Self, that which underlies thine Ego, and find it and know it in the highest, the eternal Self, the One without a Second, which underlies the whole world. ^

iiCooi^lc


PHILOSOPHY AND RELIGION. 307

This was the final solution of tlie searcli after the Infinite, the IiiTisibie, tlie Unknown, the Divine, a searcli begun in tlie simplest hymns of the Veda, and ended in the Upanishads, or, as they were afterwards called, the VedSnta, the end or the highest object of the Veda.

I can do no more than read you some extracts from these works, which stand nnrivaled in the liter- ature of India, nay, in the literature of the world.

PBAGAPATI AND INDEA.

The first extract is from the ^Alndogya Upani- shad (VIII. 7-12), It is a story representing Indra aa the chief of the Devaa or gods, and Viro^ana as the chief of the Asuras, seeking instruction from Pra^Hpati. This, no doubt, sounds modern, if com- pared with the hymns of the Rig- Veda, yet it is anything but modern, if compared with all the rest of Indian literature. The opposition between DeTas and Asuras is, no doubt, secondary, but traces of it begin to show themselves in the Rig- Veda, particu- larly in the last book. "Asura," living, was origi- nally an epithet of certain powers of nature, particu- lai'ly of the sky. In some passages one feels inclined to translate devS, asurai by the living gods. After a time asura is used as an epithet of certain evil spirits also, and at last it occurs in the plural as the name of the evil spirits, opposed to the Devaa, the bright, kind, and good spirits. In the Br^hmawas that distinction is firmly established, and nearly everything is settled there by battles between Devas and Asuras.

That Indra should represent tlie Devas is natural. ViroJ^ana, however, is of later date ; the name does not occur in the hymns. He appears first in thp


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308 PHILOSOPHY AKD RELIGIOX.

Taittiiiya Br3,hmama, 1. 6, 9, 1, wliere he is introduced as the son of Phrabt3.da and Kayadha. Pra</S,pati has assumed in this story his later character, as a kind of supreme god ; ]ie is even represented us father of Indra in the Taittiriya BrahmaHa, I. 5, 9, 1.

The ohject of our legend is evidently to show the different stages by which wo are to arrive at a knowl- edge of the tnie Self in man. Pra^fapati speaks at first in an equivocal way, saying that the person seen in the eye is the Self. He means the seer, as independent of the eye, hut his pupils misunderstand him, the Asura supposing that the small body seen in the pupil of the eye as in a mirror is the Self, the Deva imagining that the shadow or the image in the mirror or in the water is the Self. But while Viroifcana is satisfied, Indra is not, and he is then led on to seek the Self, first in the pei-son wlio, freed from the impressions of the senses, is dreaming ; then in the person who has ceased to dream and is quite unconscious. Dissatisfied, however, with this, which seems to him utter annihilation, Indra is at last allowed to see that the Self is he who uses the senses, but ia distinct from them, the person, in fact, seen in the eye, i. e., perceived in the eye, as the seer ; or again, lie who knows that he is the kuower, wliile the mind, the divine eye, as it is called, is but his instrument. We find here the highest expres- sion of tlie truth as seen by the dwellers in the for- est, the highest goal reached by them in their search after the infinite.

SEVKyXH KHA.VOA.

" Pra^Spati said : ' The Self which is free from sin, free from old age, from death and grief, from

I iiA-OOi^lc


FHILOSOrilY AXD RELIGION. 309

hunger and thirst, which desires nothing but what it ought to desire, and imagines nothing but what it ought to imagine, that it is which we must search out, that it is which we must try to understand. He who has searched out that Self and understands it, obtains all worlds and all desires.' " 1.

" The Devas (gods) and Asaras (demons) both heard these words, and said : ' Well, let us search for that Self by which if one has searched it out, all worlds and all desires ate obtained.'

" Thus saying Indra went from the Devas, Yiro- iana from the Asnras, and both, without having communicated with each other, approached Pra^apati, holding fuel in their hands, as is the custom for pu- pils approaching their master." 2.

" They dwelt there as pupils for thirty-two years. Then Pra^§,pati asked them : ' For what purpose have you both dwelt here ?'

" They replied i ' A saying of yours is being re- peated, viz., " the Self which is free from sin, free from old age, from death and grief, from hunger and thirst, which desires nothing but what it ought to desire, and imagines nothing but what it ought to imagine, that it is which which we must search out, that it is which we must try to understand. He who has searched out that Self and understands it, obtains all worlds and all desires." Now we both have dwelt here because we wish for that Self.' " 3.

" Pra^Spati said to them : ' The person that is Been in the eye,i that ia the Self, This is what I

■ Tha commentator explains (his rightly. Praffapafi means the person tliac is seen in the eye, that is, tlie teal agent ot seeing, who is seen hy SBReB even with their eyes shut. His pupils, however misunderstand liim. Tliey tlii[ik of the person that is seen, not of tiie person that sees. The pci-son seen in the eye is to them ttie small figure imaged ill the eye, and


.


310 ririLosoi'in- axd religion.

have said. This is the immortal, the fearless, this is Brahman.'

" They asked : ' Sir, he who is perceived in the water, and he who is perceived in a mirror, who is he?'

" He replied : ' He himself alone is seen in all these.' " ^ 4.

EIGHTH KHAWOA.

" Look at yonr Self in a pa,n of water, and what- ever you do not understand of your Self,^ come and toll mo.

" They looked in the water-pan. Then Pra^Spati said to them : ' What do you see ? '

" They said i ' We both see the Self thus altogeth- er, a picture even to the very hairs and nails.' " 1.

" Pra^apati said to them : ' After you have adorned yourselves, have put on your best clothes and cleaned yourselves, look again into the water-pan,'

" They, iifter having adorned themselves, having put on their best clothes, and cleaned themselves, looked into the water-pan.

" Prai/^pati said ; ' What do you see ? '" 2.

" They said : ' Just as we are, well adorned, with our best clothes and clean, thus we are both there. Sir, well adorned, with onr best clothes and clean,"

" Pra(/fi.pati said : ' That is the Self, this is the im- mortal, the fearless, this is Brahman.'

" Then both went away satisfied in their hearts.

le image in the imtcr or in a mirror


ther go on therefore


fo ask, -B-hether


is not Iha Self.




ra are at great p:


falschwxl. He men



sense, nnd it was nci


.t his Tautt (hat


CcioqIc


PHILOSOPHY AND RELIGIOS. 311

"And Pra^^piiti, looking after them, said : ' They both go away without having perceived, and without having known the Self, and whoever of these two,' whether Devaa or Asuras, will follow this doctrine (upanishad), will perish.'

" Now Viroiana satisfied in his heart went to the Asuras and preaclied that doctrine to them, that the Self (the body) alone is to be worshiped, that the Self (the body) alone is to be served, and that he who worships the Self and serves the Self, gains both worlds, this and the next." 4,

" Therefore they call even now a man wJio does not give alms here, who has no faith, and offers no sacrifices, an Asura, for this is the doctrine (npani- shad) of the Asuras. They deck out the body of the dead with perfumes, flowers, and fine raiment by way of ornament, and think they will thus conquer that world." 5.

KINTH EHANDA. " But Indra, before he had returned to the Devas, saw this difficulty. As this Self (the shadow in the water) ^ is well adorned when the body is well adorned, well dressed when the body is well dressed, well cleaned if the body is well cleaned, that Self will also be blhid if the body is blind, lam© if the body is lame,® crippled if the body is crippled, and will perish in fact as soon as the body perishes. Therefore I see no good in this (doctrine)." 1.

1 The commenlator reads yalara for yataA.

  • The commeiitalor remarks that though both Indra and Virotana had

mislalteii the true import of wliat Prapipati said, yet whila Virofcana took the bo3y to be the Self, Inflra thought that the Self was the sLiadow of tho body.



312 PIULOSOrHY AND RELIGIOS.

" Taking fuel in liis hand lie came again aa a pupil to Pra^Spati. Praj/flpati said to hini : ' Slaghavat (Indra), as yoii went away with Viroiana, satisfied in your heart, for what purpose did yon come back ? '

" He said : ' Sir, as this Self (the shadow) is well adorned when the body is well adorned, "n-eil dressed when the body ia well dressed, well cleaned if the body is well cleaned, that Self will also be blind if the body is blind, lame if the body is Lime, crippled if the body is crippled, and will perish in fact as soon as the body perishes. Therefore I see no good in this (doctrine).' " 2.

" ' So it ia indeed, Maghavat,' replied Pra,^Rpati ; 'but I shall explain him (the true Self) further to you. Live with me another thirty-two years.'

"He liTcd with him another thirty-two years, and then Pra^apati said : 3.

TENTH ^KUANDA.

" ' He who moves about happy in dreams, he is the Self, this is the immortal, the fearless, this ia Brahman,'

" Then Indra went away satisiied in his heart. But before he had returned to the Devas, he saw this difficulty. Now although it is true that that Self is not blind even if the body is blind, nor lame, if the body is lame, though it is true that that Self is not rendered faulty by the faults of it (the body), nor struck when it (the body) is struck, nor lamed when it is lamed, yet it is as if they struck him (the Self) in dreams, as if they drove him away. He becomes even conscious, aa it were, of pain, and aheda tears. Therefore I see no good in this." 1.

" Taking fuel in his hands, be went again aa a pu-


CtH^glc


PHILOSOPHY AXD RELIGION. 313

pil to Pra^&pati. Pra^§.pati said to hiin : ' Maghavat, as yoa went away satisfied in your heart, for what purpose did you come back ? '

" He said : ' Sir, although it is true that that Self is not blind even if the body is blind, nor lame if the body is lame, though it is true that that Self is not rendered faulty by the faults of it (the body), nor struck when it (the body) is struck, nor lamed when it is lamed, yet it is aa if they struck him (the Self) in dreams, as if they drove him away. He becomes even conscious, as it were of pain, and sheds tears. Therefore I see no good in this.' " 1.

"'So ifc is indeed, Maghavat,' replied Pra^Hpati ; ' but r shall explain him (the true Self) further to you. Live with me another thirty-two years.'

" He lived with him another thirty-two years. Then Pra^Spati said : 4.

ELEVENTH KKAXDA.

" ' When a man being asleep, reposing, and at per- fect rest,^ sees no dreams, that is the Self, this is the immortal, the fearless, this is Brahman.'

" Then Indra went away satisfied in his heart. But before he had returned to the Devas, he saw this difficulty. In truth he thus does not know himself (his self) that he is I, nor does he know anything that exists. He is gone to utter annihilation. I see no good in this." 1.

"Taking fuel in his hand he went again as a pupil to Pra^&pati. Pra^ttpati said to him : ' Myghavat, as you went away satisfied in your heart, for what pur- pose did you come back ? '

" He said : ' Sir, in that way he does not know

I See Khiiiilogyn Dpanisliaii, VIIL G, 3.


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314 I'HILOSOl'UY AND KELIGIOS.

himself (his self) that he is I, nor does he know any- thing that exists. He is gone to utter annihilation. I see no good in this.'

"'So it is incleed, Maghavat,' replied Pra^^pati ; ' but I shall explain him (the true Self) further to you, and nothing more than this.^ Liva here other five years.'

" He lived there other five years. This made in all one hundred and one years, and thurefoie it is said that Indra Maghavat lived one hundred and one years as a pupil with Prii^S.pati. Pi-a^apati said to him :

TWELFTH KHAJTCA.

" ' Maghavat, this body is mortal and always held by death. It is the abode of that Self which is im- mortal and without body.^ When in the body (by thinking this body is I and I am this body) the Sel£ is held by pleasure and pain. So long as he is in the body, he cannot get free from pleasure and pain. But when he is free of the body (when he knows himself different from the body), then neither pleas- ure nor pain touches him.' " ^ 1.

" ' The wind is without body, the cloud, lightning, and thunder are without body (without hands, feet, etc.). Now as these, arising from this heavenly ether (space), appear in their own form, as soon as they have approached the highest light, 2.

'"Thus does that serene soul, arising from this body, appear in its own form, aa soon as it has ap-

1 Sdnkara explains llils aa mnaiiinft, Ihe real Self, not anything different from Ihe Self.

3 Aoconling to some, Ihe body is the result of the Self, ihf elements of th« body, liRlit, water, and earlh springing from the Svlf, and Ihe Self

» Ordinary, worldly pleasure. Comm,


Gooi^lc


PHILOSOPHY AND RELIGIOS. 315

proached the highest light (the knowledge of Self),^ He (ill that state) is the highest peraoii (uttama piSruaha). He moves about there laughing (or eat- ing), playing, and rejoicing (in his mind), be it with women, carriages, or relativea, never minding that body into which he was born.^

" ' Like as a horse attached to a cart, bo is the spirit * (prSjia, pra^n^tman) attached to this body.' " 3.

" ' Now where the sight has entered into the void (the open space, the black pupil of the eye), there is the person of the eye, the eye itself is the instrument of seeing. He who knows, let me smell this, he is the Self, the nose is the instrument of smelling. He who knows, let me say this, he is the Self, the tongue is the instrument of saying. He who knows, let me hear this, he is the Self, the ear is the instrument of healing,' " 4.

"' He who knows, let me think this, he is the Self, the mind in his divine eye.* He, the Self, seeing

1 The simile is not so striking aa most of those olfl similes are. The wind is compared with the Self on account of its being for a lime lost in the ether (space ), as the Self is in the twdy, and than rising again out of the ether and assamin^ its own form as wind. Thf chief stress is laid on the highest light, which in the one case is the sun of eummer, in the other the light of knowledge.

s These are pleasures which seem hardly compadble with the state ot perfect peace which the Self is supposed to have attained. The paniagB may be interpolated, or put in on purpose to show that the Self enjoys such pleasores as an inward spectator only, without identifying himself with either pleasure or pain. Ha sees them, as he says afterwards, with, his di- Tine eye. Ilie Self perceives in all things his Self only, nothing else. In his commentary on tlie Taittlriya Upaniahad (p. 45) Sankara refers this passage to Braliman as an effect, not to Brahman as a cause.

' The spirit is not identical with the body, but only joined to it, like a hoise, or driving it, like a charioteer. In other passages the senses ara the horses, bnddhi^ reason, Che charioteer, ittanae, the mind, the reins. The spirit is attached to Iha cart hy the tefana: cf. AnandajnSnagiri.

^ Because it pcrci^ives not only what is present, but also what is past and future.


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'ilG rUILOSOl'HY AXD liELIGIOS,

these ploaaures (wliicli to otliera ate hidden like a buried treasure of gold) through hia divine eye, i. e., the mind, rejoices.

" ' The Devas who are in the world of Brahman worship that Self (as taught by Pra^^pati to Iiidra, and by Tiidra to the Devas). There all worlds are held by them, and ail pleasures. He who knows that Self and understands it, obtains all worlds and all desires.' Thus said Pra^dpati, thus said Pra^S,pati."

YACNAVALKYA AND MAITREYL

The next extract is taken from the Bj7'hadS,rawyaka,

where it is repeated twice, with slight differences, the

first time in the second, the seeond time in the fourth

Adhydya : ^ —

" Ya^navalkya ^ had two wives, Maitreyt and K^t- y%anl. Of these Maitreyt was convei-sant with Brah- man, but Kilty§,yani possessed such knowledge only


" Now when Yfi^navalkya was going to enter upon another state, he said : ' Maitreyf, verily I am going away from this my house (into the forest).^ For- sooth, let me make a settlement between thee and that KfityS.yaui (my other wife).' " 1.

" Maitreyi said : ' My Lord, if this whole earth full of wealth belonged to me, tell mo, should I be immortal by it ?' *

" ' No,' replied Y^navalkya ; ' like the life of rich people will be thy life. But there is no hope of im- mortality by wealth.' " 2.

1 The V,



■.asioa are marked by "


mlroductnry paragraph occi


irs 111 Ihe Becoiul vcraii


ad of udj-risvaii, li. gives


praiTajishyau, the


CooqIc


HIILOSOPHY AXD UKLICIOX. 317

" And Maitreyi siiid ; " Wliat should I do with that by which I do not become immortal ? What my Lord knoweth (o£ immortality), tell that to me.' " ^ 3.

" Y&ynavalkya replied : ' Tliou who art truly dear to me, thou speakest dear words. Come, sit down,^ I will explain it to thee, and mark well what I say.' " 4.

" And he aaid : ' Verily, a husband la not dear, that you may love the husband ; but that you may love the Self, therefore a husband is dear.

" ' Verily, a wife is not dear, that you may love the wife ; but that you may love the Self, tlierefore a wife is dear.

" ' Verily, sons are not dear, not that you may love the sons ; but that you may love the Self, therefore sons are dear.

" ' Verily, wealth is not dear, that you may love wealth ; but that you may love the Self, therefore wealth is dear,^

" ' Verily, the Brahman-class is not dear, that you may love the Brahman-class ; but that you may love the Self, therefore the Brahman-class is dear.

" ' Verily, the Kshatti'a-class is not dear, that you may love the Kshattra- class ; but that you may love the Self, therefore the Kshattra-claas is dear,

"'Verily, the worlds are not dear, that yon may love the worlds ; but that you may love the Self, therefore the worlds are dear.

" ' VeiTly, the Devas are not dear, that you may


>y


die PHILOSOl'HY AND RELiGIOS.

love the Devaa ; but that you may love the Self, therefove the Devas are J ear.'

" ' Verily, creatures are not dear, that you may love the creatures ; but that you may loTe the Self, therefore are creatures dear.

" ' Verily, everything is not dear that you may love everything ; but that you may love the Self, therefore eveiything is dear.

" ' Verily, tlie Self is to be seen, to be liuard, to be perceived, to be marked, Maitreyi I When we see, hear, perceive, and know the Self,^ then all this is known.' " 5.

" ' Wliosoever looks for the Brahman-class elsewhere tlian in the Self, should be abandoned by the Brah- man-class. Whosoever looks for the Ivshattra- class elsewhere than in the Self, should be abandoned by the Kshatt fa-class. Whosoever looks for the worlds elsewhere tliau in the Self, should be abandoned by the worlds. Whosoever looks for the Devas else- where than in the Self, should be abandoned by the Devas.^ Whosoever looks for creatures elsewliere than in the Self, should be abandoned by the creat- ures. Whosoever looks for everything elsewhere than in the Self, should be abandoned by everything. Thia Brail man-class, this Kshattra-cl ass, these worlds, these Devas,* these creatures, this everything, all is that Self.' " 6.

" ' Now as ^ the sounds of a drum when beaten cannot be seized externally by themselves, but the


1 B. insert?. Verily Ihe Vedas are not dfar, etc. '^ When the Self lias been seen, heard, perceived, a' 3 B. inserts, Whosoever looks for the Vedas, etc.


upon 5 II as prob-

I CooqIc


PHILOSOrHV AND KEUGION. 319

sonnd is seized when the drum is seized or the beater of the drum ;' " 7.

" ' And as the sounds of a conch-shell when blown, cannot be seized externally (by themselves), but the sound is seized when the shell is seized or the blower of the shell ; '" 8.

" ' And as the sounds of a lute when played cannot be seized externally by themselves, but the sound is seized when the lute is seized or the player of the lute ; '" 9.

" ' As clouds of smoke proceed by themselves out of a lighted fire kindled with damp fuel, thus verily, O Maitreji, has been breathed forth from this great Being what we have as ^/gveda, Ya^urveda, SSma- veda, AtharvSngirasaA, ItihS^a (legends), Puv^wa (cosmogonies), VidyS (knowledge), the Upanisbads,

  • Slokas (verses), Sfitras (prose niles), Anuvy&khy-

flnas (glosses), VyS,khy&nas (commentaries).^ From him alone all these were breathed forth.' " 10.

" ' As all waters find their centre in the sea, all touches in the skin, all tastes in the tongue, all smells in the nose, all colors in the eye, all sounds in the ear, all percepts in the mind, all knowledge in the heart, all actions in the hands, all movements in the feet, and all the Vedas in speech,' " 11,

" ' As a lump of salt, when thrown into water, be- comes dissolved into water, and could not be taken out again, but wherever we taste (the water), it is salt, thus verily, O Maitreyt, does this great I5eing, endless, unlimited, consisting of nothing but knowl- edge,^ rise from out these elements, and vanish again

1 B- adds, sacrifice, offering, food, drint, this world and the olher world, and all creatures. s As solid Bait, compact, pure, and entire ia nothing but ta^fe, llius, mre, and entire, is nothing but



320 PHiLOsopnr akd religion.

in tliem. When he has departed, there is no more knowledge, I say, O Maitreyi.' Thiia spoke Yftj^na- Talkya." 12.

" Then Maitreyt said : ' Here thou Iiast bewiklered me. Sir, ii'heii thou sayst that having departed, there is no more Icnowledge.' ^

" Biit yil^navalkya replied: '0 Maitruyi, I have said nothing that ia bewildering. This is enough, O beloved, for ■wisdom.' " ^ 13.

" ' For when there is as it were duality, then one sees the other, one smells the other, one hears the otlier,^ one sahites the other,* one perceives the other,^ one knows the other ; but when the Self only is all this, how should he smell another,^ how should he see another ^, how should he hear * another, how should he salute^" another, how should he perceive another ,^^ how should he know another ? How should he know him by whom he knows all this? How, O beloved, should he know (himself) the Knower ? ' " ^^

TAMA AND KAfflKETAS. One of the best known among the Upanishads ia

1 " Here, Sir, tlioii liast brought me iaCo bewilderment ; I do not under-


8 One Instes the other. B.

  • B. inserts, one h'ears the other. B.

6 B. inserts, one touches the other. B. ^ See. B.

T Smell. " B. inaerlB Uisto. 8 galnte. '" Hear.

"- B. insert'^ how should he loiioli another?

la Instead of the laet line B. add« (IV. 6, 16] : " That Self is to be da- ecribed by No, No! He is incomprehensible, for he is not comprehended: free from decay, for he does not decay ; free from contact, for ha ia not touched ; unfettered, he does not tremble, he does not fail. How, be- lo\-ed, should he know the knower? Thus, O Maitreyi, thou hast been instrncted. Thus far sees immortality." Having said so, YajraaTnlbya n-entaway (iulo the forest). 15.


,G(h>qIc


PHILOSOr'HY AND BF.LtGlON. 321

tlie Ka(Aa Upanisliad. It was first introduced to the knowledge of European sclioliirs by Ram Mohun Roy, one of tile most enlightened benefactors of his own country, and, it may atiil turn out, one of the most enlightened benefactors of mankind. It !i;is since been frequently translated and discussed, iind it cer- tainly deserves the most careful consideration of all who are interested in the growth of religious and philosophical ideas. It does not eeem likely that we possess it in its original form, for there are clear traces of later additions in it. There is in fact the same story told in the Taittiriya Br&hmana, III, 11, 8, only with this difference, that in the Brdhmana freedom from death and birth is obtained by a pecul- iar performance of a sacrifice, while in the Upanishad it is obtained by knowledge only.

The Upanishad consists of a dialogue between a young child, called NaAiketas, and Yama, the ruler of departed spirits. The father of Na^ketas had offered what is called an All-sacrifice, which requires a man to give away all that he possesses. His son, hearing of his father's tow, asks him whether he does or does not mean to fulfill his vow without reserve. At first the father hesitates ; at last, becoming angi-y, he says : " Yes, I shall give thee also unto death."

The father, having once said so, was bound to fulfill his vow, and to sacrifice his son to death. The son is quite willing to go, in order to redeem his fa- ther's rash promise.

" I go," he says, " at the iii'st, at the head of many (who have still to die) ; I go in the midst of many (who are now dying). What Yama (the ruler of the departed) has to do, that he will do unto me to- day.


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322 I'HILOSOPHY AXD EELIGIOS.

"Look back, how it was with those who came before ; look forwai'd, how it will be with those who come hereafter, A mortal ripens like corn; — like com they spring up agiiiii."

When NaAiketas entered the abode of the departed, their ruler, Yiinia, was absent, and his new guest was left for three days without receiving dne hospitality.

In order to make up for this neglect, Yania, when he returns, grants him three boons to choose.

The first boon which Naiiketiis cliooses is, that his fatlier may not be suigry with him any more.^

The second boon is, that Yama may teach him some peculiar form of saci'ifice,^

Then comes the third boon : —

" NaAiketas aiys : ^ ' There is that doubt, when man is dead, some saying that he is, others that he is not: this I should like to know, taught by thee. This is the third of my boons.' " 20.

"Death replied: 'On this point even the Devas have doubted formerly ; it is not easy to understand. That subject is subtle, Clioose another boon, O Nar Aiketas, Do not force me, let me ofE that boon ! ' " 21.

" ' Whiitever desires are difficult to attiiiu for mor- tals, ask for them according to thy wish I Tliese fair maidens with their chariots and musical instruments, such as are not indeed to be obtained by men, be

1 In tho Taiflirlva Brfihmana Ibe first boon is that he should return to liiE father alive.

- In tlie Taittirtj-a Brahmana the fecond boon 15 (hat his good works should not perish, whereupon Yama told him a peculiar SBcririce, hencS' forth to be called l>y the name of SaAikotas.

s In the Taittiriva Brrdimana the (liird boon is that Yama should tell him how to conquer death, whereupon Yama tells him again the Naiikela

the meditation (npil^anii) Khoiild be the principal, the performing of (he


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PHILOSOPHY AND RELIGION. 323

waited on by them ! I give them to tliee. But do not ask me about dying."

"Na&iketas said: 'They last till to-morrow, Deatli, they wear out the vigor of all the senses. Even the whole of life is short! Keep thy horses, keep diince and song to thyself. No man can be made happy by wealth. Shall we possess wealth, when we see thee, O Death ! No, that on which there is doubt, O Death, tell us, what there is in thiit gi-eat future. Naiiketas does not choose an- other boon but that which enters into the hidden world.'" 29.

At h\st, much against his will, Yama is obliged to reveal liis knowledge of the Self : —

" Fools," he says, " dwelling in ignorance, wise in their own sight, and puffed up with vain knowledge, go round and round, staggering to and fro, like blind men led by the Wind. II. 5.

" The future never rises before the eyes of the careless child, deluded by the delusion of wealth. T}ds is the world, he thinks ; there is no other ; thus he falls again and again under my sway," 6.

"The wise, who by means of meditating on his Self, recognizes the Old, who is difficult to be seen, 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." 12.

"The knowing Self is not born, it dies not; it came from nothing, it became nothing.^ The Old is unborn, from everlasting to everlasting, he is not killed, though the body is killed." 18.

"The Self is smaller than small, greater than great ; hidden in the heart of the creature. A man


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324 PHILOSOPHY AKD RELIGION.

who lias no more desires and no more griefs, sees the majesty of the Self by the grace of tlie creator." 20.

" Though sitting still, he walks far; though lying down, he goes everywhere. Who save myself is able to know tliafc God who rejoices and vejoicea not ? " 21.

" That Self cannot be gained by the Veda ; nor by understHnding, nor by much learning. He whom the Self chooses, by him alone the Self can be gained. The Self chooses him as his own." 23.

" But he who has not first turned away from his wickedness, who is not tranqail and subdued, or whose mind is not at rest, he can never obtain the Self, even by knowledge." 24.

"No mortal lives by the breath that goes up and by the breath that goes down. We live by another, in whom these two repose." V. 5.

" Well then, I shall tell thee this mystery, the eternal Brahman, and what happens to the Self, after reaching death." 6.

" Some are bom again, as living beings, others enter into stocks and stones, according to their work and according to their knowledge." 7-

"But he, the highest Pei-son, who wakes in us while we are asleep, shaping one lovely sight after another, he indeed is called the Bright, he is called Brahman, he alone is called the Immortal, All worlds are founded on it, and no one goes beyond. This is that." 8.

" As the one fire, after it has entered the world, though one becomes different according to whatever it burns, thus the one Self within all things, becomes difi'erent, according to whatever it enters, and exists also apart." 9,


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PHILOSOPHY AND RELIGION. 325

" As the 8U11, the eye of the world, is not contami- nated by the external impurities seen by the eye, thuB the one Self within all things, is never contami- nated by the suffering of the world, being himself apart." 11.

" There is one eternal thinker, thinking non-eternal thonghts ; he, though one, fulfills the desires of many. The wise who perceive him within their Self, to them belongs eternal peace." 13.

" 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," VI. 2.

" He (the Brahman) cannot be reached by speech, by mind, or by the eye. He cannot be apprehended, except by him who says : Sc is." 12.

" When all desires that dwell in the heart cease, then the mortal becomes immortal, and obtains Brah- man." 14,

" When all the fetters of the heart here on earth are broken, then the mortal becomes immortal — here ends my teaching." 15.

RELIGION Oe" XHK UPANI8HAD3. It will probably be said that this teaching of the Upanisliads can no longer be called religion, but that it is philosophy, though not yet reduced to a strictly systematic form. This shows again how much we are the slaves of language. A distinction has been made for us between religion and philosophy, and, so tar as form and object are concerned, I do not deny that such a distinction may be useful. But when we look to the subjects with which religion is con- cerned, they are, and always have been, the very


.


326 PIULOSOPHV AXD RELIGION'.

subjects on which philosophy has dwelt, nay, from which pliilosophy has sprung. If religion depends for its very life on the sentiment or the perception of the infinite within the finite and beyond the finite, who is to determine the legitimacy of th;i.t sentiment or of that perception, if not the philosoplier ? Who ia to determine the powers which man possesses for apprehending the finite by his senses, for working up his single and therefore finite impressions into con- cepts by his reason, if not the philosopher? And who, if not the philosopher, is to find out whether man can claim the right of asserting the existence of the infinite, in spite of the constant opposition of sense and reason, taking these words in tlieir nsual meaning ? We should damnify religion if we sepa- rated it from philosophy ; we should ruin philosophy if we divorced it from religion.

The old Brahmans, who displayed greater ingenuity then even the Fathers of our church in drawing a flharp line between profane and sacred writing, and in establishing the sacred and revealed character of their Scriptures, always included the Upiuiishads in their sacred code. The Upanishads belong to the jft'uti or revelation, in contradistinction to the Smriti and all the rest of their literature, including their sacred laws, their epic poetry, their modern Purawaa. The philosophy of the ancient iJishis was to them as sacred ground aa sacrifice and hymns of praise.

Whatever occurs in the Upanishads, even though one doctrine seems to contradict the other, is to them, according to the principles of their most orthodox theol<^, absolute truth ; and it is curious to see how later systems of philosophy, which are opposed to each other on very essential points, always try to find


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PHILOSOPHY AND EELIGION. 327

some kind of warrant for tlieiv doctrines in one or the other passage of the Upanishads.

EVOLUTION IS VEDIO EELIGION.

But there is another point which deserves our care- ful attention in the final establishment of the ancient Hindu religion.

There can be no doubt that, even in the SamhitSs, in the collections of the Sacred Hymns, we can ob- serve the palpable traces of historical development. I tried to show this in some of my former lectures, though I remarked at the same time that it seemed to me almost useless to apply a chronological measure- ment to these phases of thought. We must always make allowance for individual genius, which is inde- pendent of years, and even of centuries, nor must we forget that Berkeley, who often reminds us of the most advanced Hindu philosophers, was a contempo- rary of Watts, the pious poet.

In ancient times, however, and during a period of incipient literature, such as the Vedic period seeraa to have been, we have a right to say that, generally speaking, hymns celebrating the dawn and the sun were earlier than hymns addressed to Aditi ; that these again were earlier than songs in honor of Pra- papati, the one lord of all living things ; and that such odes as I tried to translate just now, in which the poet speaks of " the One breathing breathless by itself," came later still.

There is an historical, or, as it is now called, an evolutionary succession to be observed in all the hymns of the Veda, and that is far more important, and far more instructive than any merely chronolog- ical succession. All these hymns, the most ancient


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628 PIULOSOPHY AKD EELIGIOM.

and the most modern, existed before what we now call tbe collection (saiiihitS) of the hymns of the Veda was closed ; and if we put that collection at about 1000 B. c, we shall not, I believe, expose ourselves to any damaging criticism.

The final collection of the hymns must have pi'e- eeded tbe composition of the Brdbmaiias. In the hymns, and still more in the Br&hma«as, tbe theolog- ical treatises which belong to the next period, the liighest rewards are promised to all who conscien- tiously perform the ancient sacrifices. The gods to whom tbe aacrificea are addressed are in the main the gods who are celebrated in the hymns, though we can clearly perceive bow gods, such as Pra^Spati for in- stance, representing more abstract concepts of deity, come more and more into tbe foreground in the later Brdhmanas.

Next follow the AraKyakas which, not only by the position which they occupy at the end of the Br^h- maxas, but also by their character, seem to be of a later age again. Their object is to show how sacri- fices may be performed by people living in the forest, without any of the pomp described in the Briilimanas and the later Sutras ; by a mere mental effort. The worshiper had only to imagine the sacrifice, to go through it in his memory, and he thus jtequired the same merit as tbe performer of tedious rites.

Lastly com© tbe Upanisbads ; and what is their object? To show the utter uselessness, nay, the mischievousness of all ritual performances ; to con- demn every sacrificial act which has for its motive a desire or liope of reward ; to deny, if not the exist- ence, at least the exceptional and exalted character of the Devas, and to teach that there ia no hope of salva-


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PHlLOSOrHY AND EKLTGION. 329

tion and deliverance except by the individual Sel£ recognizing the true and universitl Self, and finding rest there, where alone rest can be found.

How these various thoughts were reached, how one followed naturally upon the other, how those who dis- coyered them were guided by the sole love of truth, and spared no human effort to reach the truth — all this I have tried to explain, as well as it could be ex- plained within the limits of a few lectures.

And now you will no doubt ask, as many have asked before, How was it possible to maintain a relig- ion, BO full not only of different shades of thought, but containing elements of the most decidedly antag- onistic chiiract-er ? How could people live together as members of one and the same religious community, if some of them lield that there were Devas or gods, and others that tliere were no Devas or no gods ; if some of them spent all their substance in sacrifices, and others declared every sacrifice a deception and a snare? How could books containing opinions mut- ually destructive be held as sacred in tlieir entirety, revealed, in the strictest sense of the word, nay, as beyond tlie reach of any other test of truth?

Yet so it was thousands of years ago, and, in spite of all the changes that have intervened, so it is still, wherever the old Vedic religion is maintained. The fact is there ; all we have to do is to try to under- stand it, and perhaps to derive a lesson ffom it.

THE FOUR CASTES.

Before the ancient language and literature of India

had been made accessible to European scholarship, it

was the fashion to represent the Brahmans as a sect

of priests jealously guarding the treasures of their


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330 THILOSOrHY AND BELIGIOS.

Bacved wisdom from the members of all the other castea, and thus maintainhig their ascendency over au ignorant people. It requires but the slightest ac- qujiintanee with Sanskrit liter.ituve to see the utter groundlessness of such a charge. One caste only, the

  • ?udras, were prohibited from knowing the Veda.

With the other castes, the military and civil classes, a knowledge of the Veda, so far from being prohibited, was a sacred duty. Ail hiid to learn the Veda, the only privilege of the Brahmans was that they alone were allowed to teach it.

It was not even the intention of the Erahmana that only the traditional forms ot faith and the pnrely ritual observauces should be communicated to the lower castes, and a kind of esoteric religion, that of the Upanisbads, be reserved for the Brahmans. On the contrary, there are many indications to show that these esoteric doctrines emanated from the second rather than from the first caste.

In faet, the system of castes, in the ordinary sense of the word, did not exist during the Vedic age. What we may call castes in the Veda is very different even from what we find in the laws of Manu, still more from what exists at the present day. We find the old Indian society divided, first of all, into two classes, the Arya» or nobles born, and the ^ddras, the servants or slaves. Secondly, we find that the Aiyas consist of Brdhmmas, the spiritual nobility, the Kshatriyaa or Rd^anyas, the military nobility, and the Vakyas, the citizens. The duties and rights assigned to each of these divisions are much the sanie as in other countries, and need not detain us at pres-


GooqIc


PHILOSOPHY ASD EELIGION.


THE FOUH STAGES OR A5EAMAS.

A much more important feature, however, of the ancient Vedic society than the four castes, consists in the four Asramas or stages.

A Brflhrnana, as a rule, passes through four,^ a nobleman through three, a citizen through two, a iSiiiirA through one of these stages. The whole course of life was traced out in India for eveiy child that was bom into the world ; and, making every allow- ance for human nature, which never submits entirely to rules, we liave no reason to doubt that, during the ancient periods of Indiiin history, this course of life, as sanctioned by their sacred books and their codes of law, was in the main adhered to.

As soon as the child of an Arya is born, niiy, even before his birth, bis parents have to perform certain sacramental rites (samek^ras), without which the child would not be fit to become a member of society ; or, what was the same thing with the old Brahmans, a member of the church. As many as twenty-five samskanvs are mentioned, sometimes even more. Sr- dras^ only were not admitted to these rites; while Aryas who omitted to perform them were considered no better than iSudras.

I-IEST STAGE, STUDENTSHIP.

The first stage of life to the son of an Arya, that is of a Brahmaiia, or a Kshatriya, or a Vaisya, begins when he is from about seven to eleven years of age,^


mpaiiied by Vedic liamba-alltraa, I. 1, a Kshatrija in sun


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332 PHILOSOPHY asd eeugios.

He is then sent away from home, and handed over to a master to be educated. The chief object o£ Iiia education is to learn the Veda or the Vedas by heart. The Veda being called Brahman, he is called a Brah- (naAdrin, a student of the Veda. The shortest time assigned to an effective study is twelve years, the longest forty-eight.^ While the young student stays in his master's bouse, he has to submit to the strictest dbcipline. He has to say his prayers twice a day, at sunrise and sunset (sandhyop&sana). Every morn- ing and evening he has to go round the village beg- ging, and whatever is given him he has to hand over to his master. He is himself to eat nothing except what his master gives him. He has to fetch water, to gather fuel for the altar, to sweep the ground round the hearth, and to wait on his master day and night. In return for this, his master teaches him the Veda, eo that he can say it by heart, and whatever else may- be required to fit him to enter upon his second stage, and to become a married man and a householder (gri- hastha). The pupil may attend additional lessons of other teachers (upSdhy3,ya8), but his initiation, and what is called his second birth, he receives from his spiritual guide or d/cdrya only.^

When his apprenticeship is finished, the pupil, after paying his master his proper fee, is allowed to

in aulunin; a Bvalimao in thaeighlh rear after hifl conception, a Kshatrij-a in the eleveiilli year after liis conception, a Vaisj-a in tlie twelftli year

I Apastamljfl-flatras, I. 2, 12, " He who has been initiated shall dwell as a religioiiB student in the house of hia teacher, for forly-eijiht years |if ho Ifams all the Vedaul, for (hirty-eix years, for tivenly-four years, for


2 More details are to bn found in tl


le old Dharma-aatras, tha sources of


B l.aws of Manu and other laler law


-books. A translation of several o£


B=c Rharaia-iftiraa, bv Dr. G. Biihie'


r, of Bombay, will soon be published


the Sacred Books vflhi East.



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PHILOSOPHY AND EELIGIOX. 333

return to his paternal home, lie is then called a Sndtaha,^ one who has bathed, or Samdvvilta, one who haa returned. We slioiild say he had taken his degree.

Some students (naish(^ika) stay all their life at their master's house, never marrying ; others, if moved by the spirit, enter at once, after serving their ap- prenticeship, upon the life of an anchorite (sanny&sin). But the general rule is that the young Arya, who is now, at the lowest estimate, nineteen or twenty-two years ^ of age, should marry .^

SECOND STAGE, MABEIED LIFE. This is the second stage of life, during which he is called a Gri'hastha, or G/iliamedhin, a householder. The most minute rules are given as to the choice of a wife and the marriage ceremonies. AVhat interests us, however, most, is his religion. He has by that time learnt the hymns of the Veda by heart, and we may therefore suppose that he believes in Agni, Indra, Varuna, Pra^ftpati, and the other Vedic deities. He has also learnt the BrShmanas, and he is bound to perform a constant succession of sacrifices, as either prescribed or at least sanctioned by those sacred codes. He has also learnt some of the Ara«yakas and Upani- shads * by heart, and if he has understood them, we

1 The name of Sn^talia does not apply tu him ftom the time only at his leaving his roaster to the time of bis marriage, bat belongs to him through life. Cf. Aiyavidja-sudhljiidhi, p. 131.

2 He may begin his apprenticeship at seren; the shortest study of the Veda takes twelve yeare, and, according to 30m«, th« study of the Mah^n- ilmn! and other Vralas another three years. See Asvalavana Grihya- sUtra, I. ^, 3. Comment.

9 Manu says that the right age for a man to marry is 30, for a iroman 13 ; but that the law allons a man to marry at 34, aiid a woman at S.

• Apastamba-satra?, XI. 2, B, 1- Satapatha-briihmana, X. 3, 5, 12, lasya vS etasva ya_puslio rasa evopaniihat.



334 PHILOSOPHY axd religion.

may suppose that Iiis mind liaa been opened, and that he knows that this second stage of active life is only a prepai-ation for a third and higher stage wliich is to follow. No one, however, is allowed to enter on that higher stiige who has not passed through the firet and second stages. Tbis at least is the general rule, though here too it is well known that exceptions oc- curred.^ While a married man, the householder has to perform the five daily sacrifices ; they are : —

(1.) The study or teaching of the Veda ;

(2.) OfEering oblations to the Manes or his an- eestoi-s ;

(3.) Offering oblations to the gods ;

(4.) OfEei'hig food to living creatures ;

(5.) Receiving guests.

Nothing can be more perfect than the daily life mapped out for the lioiiseholder in the so-called Domestic Rules (Gri'hya^sutras). It may have been an ideal only, but even as an ideal it shows a view of life such as we find nowhere else.

It was, for instance, a very old conception of life in India, that each man ia born a debtor, that he owes a debt first to the sages, the foundei-s and

1 Tlifi qucKlioii of Iho four Asramas is fully discuaseil in the Voihinta- sutr.i=. l[f. 4. The i^neral rule is: Ijrahraatarj'am samapya.gii'bt biiaret, Urilii liiirLlvii vaul i>havet, vanT bhfllva pravrajet, " let a mau beisjnia a lioii-ilinldtT after he liaa completed the ftudentship, let him be a dweller in Ihf fiirt't aflcr be baa been a hoaaeholder, and let him wander avray after he has been a dweller in (he forest." But it is artdsii : yadi vetara- thU brahmataryM evt. pnivrn^d, grihadra^ van&I v3, " or otherwise let him wander forth even from his stitdcnlsblp, fniui Iha house, orfram (he Sorfnt." [Cnli^lopanishad, 4.) There ia a quotation hi Govind;lDanda'a glnsa lo Vedinta-afltra, III. 4, 49, mentiooing frmr kinds in each of the four Aaramas! Buyatraft, brahma*, priiffapatyaA, brahan (brihauV) iti bralima^Ari JralurvidhaA ; gribaatho 'pi v3rt3,vritti'i, ^tinan-EtliA, y&y&- varah, Khoraaaunyasi iti iaturvidhaA ; vftnapraslhas ia vaifchanaaa-udum- bara-vftlakliilya-piieiiapa-prabhedaislatun-idhaS! tathii piirivriVi api kuii- ta ka- babudnka-h a insH-paramabaHiaa-prabli c il aia i-at u rviii 1 1 ai .


CcioqIc


PHTLOSOI'HY AND KELlGiOS. 335

fathere of his religion ; secondly to tlie gods ; thirdly to his parents,^ Tlie debt he owes to the sages he repays as a student by a careful study of tlie Veda. The debt he owes to the gods he repays as a house- holder, tlu'ough a number of sacrifices, small or great. The debt he owes to his parents lie repays by offer- ings to the Manes, and by becoming himself the father of children.

After having paid these three debta, a man is con- sidered free of this world.

But besides all these duties, which each faithful Arya ia bound to discharge, there are a great many other sacrifices which he is expected to perform, if he can afford it: some of them being daily sacrifices, others fortnightly, others connected with the three seasons, with the time of harvest, or with the return of each lialf-year or year. The performance of these sacrifices required the assistance o£ professional priests, and must in many cases have been very expensive. They had to be performed for the benefit of the three upper classes, the Aryas only, and during these great sacrifices, a Kshatriya and a Vaisya were both con- sidered, for tlie time being, as good aa a BrShmana. Tlie actual performance of the sacrifices, however, and the benefits derived from that service were strictly reserved to the Br^hmaiias. Some of the sacrifices, such as the horse-sacrifice and the RSg-asuya, could be performed for the benefit of Kshatriyaa

1 Manu, VI. 35. " When he has paid his three debts {to the fagef, ttia manes, and the gods), let him apply hi^ mind to final beatitude ; Itnt low Bhnll he fall who presumeB to seek beatitude without having discharged those debts. After he has rend the Vedas in the form prescribed bv law, baa legally begotten a son, and has performed sacritioes to the best of his power, he |has paid his three debts, and) may then apply hie heart tn

to iour aud five. See iioehtliiigfc and Rolh, Sanskrit Dictionary, a. v.


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336 PHILOSOPHY axd religiox.

only. iSudviis wero jit first entirely excluded from sacrifices, though in later times ive hear of certain exceptions, provided that no sacred hymns were em- ployed during their performance.

From what we know of the ancient times of India, between about 1000 and 500 before our era, we find that for almost every hour of the day and even the night, the life of a Brfilima«a was under the strictest discipline from one end of the year to the other. The slightest neglect of his sacred duties entailed severe penance and loss of caste, to say nothing of threatened punishments in another life ; while a care- ful observance of his prayers and sacrifices cari-ied the promise, not only of a long and prosperous life on earth, but of the highest happiness in heaven.

THIRD STAGE, EKTIR15MEST.

But now we come to the most important and most instructive features in the life of the ancient Indiana. When the father of a family perceived his liair grow- ing gray, or when he had seen the child of his child, he knew that he was quit of this world, he was to give up all that belonged to him to his sons, leave his house, and repair to the forest. He was then called a V^naprastha. It was free to his wife to follow him or not, as she chose. There is in fact on this and on some other points connected with the forest-life con- siderable difference of opinion among ancient authori- ties, which deserves much greater attention than it has hithei-to received. The chief difficulty is how to determine whether these different authorities repre- sent local and contemporaneous usages, or successive historical stages in the development of Indian society. Wherever, for instance, retu-ement from the world


,C(h>qIc


PHILOSOPHY AND RKUGION. 337

waa strictly enforced, it is clear that tho law of in- heritance must have been considerably affected by it, while the option left to a wife of following her hus- band or not, as she pleased, would have greatly in- fluenced the domestic arrangements of Indian families. But in spite of all differences, one thing is quite cer- tain, that, from the moment a man entered the forest, he enjoyed the most perfect freedom of thought and action. He might for a time perform eertiiin cere- monies, but in many cases that performance was purely mental. He thought the sacrifice through as we might hum a symphony to ourselves, and thus he had done all that could be required of him. But after a time that occupation also came to an end. We read of the VSnaprasthas subjecting themselves to several kinds of austerities, comprehended under the general name of tapas, but the idea that every act inspired by selfish interests, and particularly by a hope of rewards in another life, was not only useless, but even hurtful, became more and more prevalent, and the only occupation left was self-inspection, in the true sense of the word, that is, recognizing the true and intimate relation between the individual and the eternal Self.

Many questions of the highest interest to the student of Indian history are connected with a true appreciation of the forest-life. On these we cannot dwell at present.

Two points only must be noticed. First, that there was, after the third stage, a fourth and final stage, that of the Sannydsin, who retired from all human society, and after solitary wanderings in the wilderness, threw himself into the arms of death. It is not always easy to distinguish the Sannya^in, also


.y


ms I'lnr.osopin' and i?eligios.

Ciilled by different authorities bhilislin, yati, parivrAj/, and muni, from the Vanii.pvasthii, though originally there vras this very important differem-e, that th« mem- bers of the three former fUiraniaa aspired to rewards in aiio:her life (trayaS puHvaloliabhS^aA), while the S:iimya,9in, who had tlirown off all works, aspired to true immortality in Bi-ahman (eko 'm/itatvabhS-k, bralimasamsthaA), that the dweller in the forest eon- tlinied to belong to the parisliad or commtme, while the SannySsin shrank from any interconi-se with the world.

Secondly/, we must remember that tlie third stage, the forest-life, which is so characteristic a feature in the ancient literature of India, and fully recognized even in such late works as the Laws of Manu and the epic poems, was afterwards abolished, ^ possibly as affording too great a support to what we are ac- customed to call Buddhism,^ but what in many re- spects might be callsd a complete realization and extension of the forest-life and the final retirement from the world, as sanctioned by the old Brahmanic law. The orthodox scheme of the Brahmans was simple enough, so long as they could persuade men to pass through it step by step, and not to anticipate

1 Ndnida : " The proereation ot o son by a brother (of the deceased), the slaughter oF esttle ia the enlertsintnent of a guest, the npail on flesh meat at funeral obseqitie!, and tlie order of a hermit (are forbidden or ob- solete in the fourth age).

Aditj/a ParAna; " What was a duty in the first age, must not (in alt cases) be done in the foiirth ; since, in the Kali age, bolb men and women are addicted to tin : such are a studentship continued for a very long time, and llie necessity of carrying a waler-pot, marriage with a paternal kins- vroman, or with a near maternal relation, and the sacrifice of a bull."

2 According to the Spaslamba-satras, 1. S, 18, 31, a person who has become a hermit without (being authorized thereto) by the rules ot the law (avidhina pravrajita) is to be avoided. The Commentator explains this by Sahyadayaft, Srikyas, i. e., Buddhists, and the rest.


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PHlLOSOniY AND RELIGION. 339

tte freedom of the forest or the blessings of complete solitude without first having fulfilled the duties of the student and the householder. Thiit difficulty is well illustrated by the dialogue between a father and his son in the Mahdbh&rata (iSSntiparva, Adhy. 175). The father advises the son to follow the traditions of the elders, first to learn the Veda, observing all the rules of studentship, then to marry and to have chil- dren, to erect the altars, and perform the appropriate sacrifices, then to go into the forest, and at last to try to become a Muni. The son, however, rejects his advice, and declares the life of a householder, wife, children, sacrifices and all the rest, as worae than useless. " The enjoyment of a man who lives in the village," lie says, " is the jaws of death ; the forest is the abode of the gods, so the scripture teaches, The enjoyment of a man who lives in the village is a rope to bind him ; the good cut it asunder and are free, the bad never cut it. There is no such treasure for a Brahman as solitude, equanimity, truth, virtue, steadiness, kindness, righteousness, and ab- staining from works. What does wealth profit thee, or relatives, or a wife, O Brsthmana, when thou art go- ing to die ? Seek for the Self that is hidden in the heart. Whither are thy grandfathers gone and thy father?"

All this may sound fanciful, poetical, imaginary, but it represents the real life of ancient India. That in the ancient history of India this forest-life was no mere fiction, we know, not only from the ancient literature of India, hut also from the Greek writers, to whom nothing was so sui-prising as to find, by the side of the busy life of towns and villages, these large settlements of contemplative sages, the v\6/3iot, as they called them, in the forests of India,

I .iiCooi^lc


340 PHILOSOPHY AXD litXIGION".

To US this forest-life is interesting, chiefly as a new conception of man's existence on earth. No doubt it offers some points of resemblance with the life of Christian hermits in the fourth centurj', only that the Indian hermitages seem to be pervaded hy a much fresher air, both in an intellectual and bodily sense, than the eaves and places of refuge chosen by Chris- tian sages. How far the idea of retirement from the world and living in the desert may first have been suggested to Christian hermits by Buddhist pilgrims, who were themselves the lineal descendant;? of Indian forestsages or VSnapi-asthas ; whether some of those extraordmary similarities which exist between the Eaddhist customs and ceremonial and the customs and ceremonial of the Roman Catholic church (I will only mention tonsure, rosaries, cloisters, nunneries, confession (though public), and clerical celibacy) could have arisen at the same time — these are ques- tions that cannot, as yet, be answered satisfactorily. But with the exception of those Christian hermits, the Indians seem to have been the only civilized people ■who perceived that there was a time in a man's life when it is well for him to make room for younger men, and by an undisturbed contemplation of the gi-eat problems of our existence here and hereafter, to prepare himself for death. In order to appreciate the wisdom of such a philosophy of life, we must not for- get that we are speaking of India, not of Europe. In India the struggle of life was a very easy cue. The earth, without much labor, supplied all that was wanted, and the climate was such that life in a forest was not only possible, but delightful. Several of the names given to the forest by the Aryans meant orig- inally delight or bliss. While in European countries


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PHILOSOniY AKD RELIGION. 3-11

the old people had still to struggle on, and maintain their position in society as a Senatus, a collection of elders, guiding, moderating, sometimes also needlessly- checking the generous impulses of the succeeding generation, in India tlie elders gladly made room for theh' children, when they had themselves become fathers, and tried to enjoy the rest of their lives in peace and quietness.

LIFE IN THE TOEEST. Do not let us suppose that those ancient Aryans were less wise than we are. They knew, as well as we do, that a man may live in the forests and yet have his heart darkened by passions and desires ; they also knew, as well as we do, that a man, in the very thick of a busy life, may have in his heart a quiet hermitage where he can always be alone with himself and his truest Self.

We read in the Laws of Yaynavalkya, III. 65 : — " The hermitage is not the cause of virtue ; virtue arises only when practiced. Therefore let no man do to others what is painful to himself."

A similar sentiment occurs in Manu, VI. 66 (trans- lated by Sir W. Jones) : —

" Equat-minded towards all creatures, in whatso- ever order he may be placed, let him fully discharge his duty, though be bear not the visible mark of his order. The visible mark of his order is by no means an effective discharge of duty."

In the Mali^bh^rata the same sentiments occur again and again : —

" Bharata,^ what need has a self-controlled man


y


342 PHILOSOPHY ASD RELIGION.

of the forest, and what use ia the forest to an uncon- trolled man ? Wherever a self -con trolled man dwells, that is a forest, that Is an hermitage,

" A sage, even thongh he remains in hia house, dressed in fine apparel, if only always pure, and full of love, as long as life lasts, becomes freed from all evils.^

" CaiTying the three staves, observing silence, wear- ing platted hair, shaving the head, clothing one's self in dresses of bark or skins, performing vows and ab- lution, the agnihotra-sacrifice, dwelling in the forest, and emaciating the body, all these are vain, if the heart is not pure." ^

Such ideas became in time more and more preva- lent, and contributed no doubt to the victory of Bud- dhism, in which all external works and marks had ceased to be considered as of any value. Thus we read in the Buddhist aphorisms of the Dhaiiimapada,^ Nos. 141, 142 : —

" Not nakedness, not platted hair, not dirt, not fast- ing, nor lying on the earth, not rubbing with dust, nor sitting motionless, can purify a mortal who has not overcome desires,

" He who, though dressed in fine apparel, exercises tranquillity, is quiet, subdued, restrained, chaste, and has ceased to find fault with all other beings,* lie in- deed is a Br^hmana, a 5raniana (sweetie), a Bhikshu (a friar)."

fish'ian grihn iaiva munir nilynm suiir alanki-itaS yavosjrlvam dayaviijiij ia sarvapSpaift pramuiryale.

  • Vanaparva, 13445,

Iridam/adharanam maunam jaiibharo 'tlia muEdanam, vulk alaiTinasamYeshiam vratafairyibhlsbetanara, agnihotram vanevo^aA ^rirapiirisishanani.

8 BiiddlineliOKha's ParnUes, ed. M. H., 1870, p. xuviii.

  • daiu/anidhana is explained by vaHninnaAkiLyair himsatyngai, in lie

commentary on the Mahabbirata, SfinliparTB, 175, v. 37, ^

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PHILOSOrKY AND RELIGION. 6i6

All these thoughts had passed again and again through the minds of Indian thinkers as they pasa through our own, and had rucuived simple and beau- tiful expression in their religious and epic poetry. I need only mention here from the Mali§,bh&rata ' the curious dialogue between king (ranaka and SulabhS, who, in the guise of a beantiiul woman, convieta Iiim of deceiving himself in imagining that he can be at tlie same time a king aijd a sage, living in the world, yet being not of the world. This is the same king (?anaka of Videha who gloried in saying that if his capital Mithiia, were in flames, nothing belonging to him would be bnrnt,^

Still the ancient Bralimans retained their convic- tion that, after the first and second stages of life were passed, when a man was fifty — what we in our insa- tiable love of work call the very best years of a man 'a life — he had a right to rest, to look inward and back- ward and forward, before it was too late.

It would be out of place here to enter into any his- torical disquisitions as to the advantages of these two systems in retarding or accelerating the real progress, the real civilization, and the attainment of the real objects of human life. Only let us not, as we are so apt to do, condemn what seems strange to us, or exalt what seems familiar. Our senators and elders have, no doubt, rendered important services ; but their au- thority and influence have many a time been used in history to check and chill the liberal and generous tendencies of younger heai-ts. It may be a true say- ing that young men imagine that old men are fools,

1 Mflhabhanita, Santiparva, Adhj-aya 320; ed. Bombay, yol. v. p. 22T 3eq. Muir, Religiovs and .Vtiral Sentiniinli, p. 136. ^ Dhammapadfl, translatf^d by M. M., p. cxv.


,


34'1 PHILOSOPHY AND P^LIGION.

and that old men know that young men are ; but ia it not equally true of many a man eminent in Cliurch and State, that, in exact proportion as the vigor of his mind and the freshness of his sentiments decrease, his authority and influence increase for evil rather than for good ?

And remember, this life in the forest was not an involuntary exile ; it was looked upon as a privilege, and no one was admitted to it who had not conscien- tiously fulfilled all the duties of the student and the householder. That previous discipline was considered essential to subdue the unruly passions of the human heart. During that period of probation and prepara- tion, that is, during the best part of a man's life, little freedom was allowed in thought or deed. As the student had been taught, ao he had to believe, so he had to pray, so he had to sacrifice to the gods. The Vedas were his sacred books, and their claims to a supernatural origin, to be considered as revelation, were more carefully and minutely guarded in the apologetic literature of India than in any other theo- li^cal literature which I know.

And yet, on a sudden, as soon as a man entered upon the third stage or the forest-life, he was eman- cipated from all these fetters. He might carry on some outward observances for a time, he might say his prayers, he might repeat the scriptures which he had acquired as a boy, but his chief object was to concentrate his thoughts on the eternal Self, such as it was revealed in the Upanishads. The more he found his true home there, and could give up all that he liad fornierly called hia own, divesting himself of his Ego, and all that was personal and transient, and recovering his true Self in the eternal Self, the more


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PHILOSOPHY AMD RELIGION. 345

all fetters of law, of custom, and caste, of traditioa and outward religion fell from him. Tlie Vedas now became to him the lower knowledge only ; the sacri- fices were looked upon as hindrances ; the old gods, Agni and Indra, Mitra and Varuna, Visvakarman also and Pra^^pati, all vanished as mere names. There remained only the Atman, the subjective, and Brah- man, the objective Self, and the highest knowledge was expressed in the words tat tvam, thou art it; thou thyself, thy own true Self, that which can never be taken from thee, when everything else tliat seemed to be thine for a time disappears ; when all that was created vanishes again like a dream, thy own true Self belongs to tlie eternal Self ; the Atman or Self within thee is the true Brahman,' from whom thou ' I have avoided in use the word Brahman instead of Atman, because, though its later development is clear, I must confess that I have not been able as yet to gain a clear conception of its real roots. As for all other ab- stract conceptions, there must be far brahman also something tangible from which it sprang, but what this vas seems lo me still verj' doubtful- There can be little doubt that the root from which brahman was derived is bnTi orvrih. The meanings ascribed to this root by native gramma- rians are to erect, lo strive, and lu grow. These three meanings may be reduced to one, viz., to push, which, if used intransitively, would mean to spring up, to grow; if transitively, to make spring up, to erect- Between these meanings, however, and the meanings assigned to Brah- man by the oldest exegetes, there seems little connection. YSska esplung brahman as meaning either food or wealth- SSyana adopts these mean- ings and adds to them some others, such as hymn, hymn of praise, sacri. Gte, also great (bWhat>- (See Haug, &Aei- die urspJ'^glich Bedeututig del Wortes Brahma, ISGS, p- 4-) Professor Roth gives as the first mean- ing of brahman, (1) pious meditation appealing as an impulse and fullness of the mind, and striving towards Ihe gods, every pious manifestation at divine sen-ice, (2) sacred formula, (8) snored word, word of God, (4) sacred wisdom, theology, theosophy, (5) sacred life, chastity. (6) Ihe highest ob- ject ol theosophy, the impersonal god, the absolute, (7) the clergy- Pro- fessor Haug, on the contrary, thinks Ihat brahman meant originally a smiUl broom made of Kusa. grass, which during a sacrifice is handed round, and is also called veda, i. c, tied together, a bundle. He identifies it, as Benfey before li)m, with the Zend baresman, always used at Ihe Izenhne ceremony, which is a reflex of the Vcdic Soma-sacrifice. The original meaning ot brahman and baresman he supposes to have been sprouts or shoots (Lat.



346 PHILOSOPHY AXD RELIGIOX.

wast estranged for a time tlirough birtSi and death, but who receives thee back again as soon as thou re- turnest to Him, or to It,


Here ia the end of the long journey which we un- dertook to trace ; here the infinite, which had been seen as beliind a vei! in the mountains and rivers, in the sun and the sky, in the endless dawn, in the heavenly father, in Visvakarman, the maker of all thiugB, in Prai/apati, the lord of all living creatures, was seen at last in the highest and purest form which

virgK), then growlh, prosperity. Aa the proBperitj- o( a sacrifice depended on the hymns and prayers, these loo Mere called brahman, (he sacrifice vKS called brahman, and at last this prosperity was conceived as the first cause of all being.

Neither of these biographies seems (o ma altogether satisfactory. With- out attempting to explain here my own view of the origin and growth of brahman, I flhall only say that there is a tJiird meaning assigned to the root brih, to sound or to speak. Speech, in its most general meaning, may hare been conceived as what springs forth and grows, then also as what not only develops itself, but develops its objects also, more particularly the gods, who are named and praised in words. From the root rt-^'h, de- termined in that direction, we have, I believe, the Latin vei'i-uut and the Gothic vaurd, word <cf. barba and 0. N. bari-r, vr6l and Sanslirit ai-dha, ete. ; Ascoli in Knhn's ZeiUckrift, svii. 83i). How far the Indians re- tained the conscIoui^esB of the original meaning of bi-ih and brahuLi, is difficult to say, but it is curious to see how they use liivbas-pali and Vaias- pati, as synonyms of the same deity. In the Bnhad&ranyaita, I. 3, 30, w? read: esha u ev-a brihaspalir, vSg vai bj-ihatj, lasyaesha palin, taemM u hrihaspatii ,■ esha u eva brahmanasjialir, vag vai brahma, tasy^ esha patis, tasniad u brahmanaspatiA. Here the identity of vS<k, speech, with biiTiatl (or brill) and brahman is cleariy asserted. From the root \i-ih, in the sense of growmg, we have in Sanskrit iarAif, shoots, grass, bundle of grass, m latm Tiiga The I^tmirfrSfnat, also, the sacred branches, borne by the fetiale? and popsibiy the reriera (verberihus caederB], may come from the same root Without attempting to trace the fiii'ther ramifica- tions nf brahman, word, hymn of praise, prayer, sacrifice, I sdall only guard at once against the idea that we have in it some liind of Logos. Though brahman comes in (he end to mean the cause of the unirerse, and is frequentli identiiled with the highest A.tman or Self, its development was different from that of the Alexandrian Logos, and historically, at all events, these two streams of thought are entirely unconuected.


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PHILOSOPHY AND RELIGION. 347

the Indian intellect could reach. Can we define him, they said, or comprehend him ? No, they replied ; all we can siiy of him, ia No, no 1 He is not this. He is not that ; he is not the maker, not the father, not the sky or the sun, not the rivers or the mountains. Whatever we have called Uim, that he is not. We cannot comprehend or name him, but we can feel him ; we cannot know him, but we can apprehend him ; and if we have once found him, we can never escape from him. We are at rest, we are free, we are blessed. They waited patiently for the few years before death would release them: they did nothing to prolong their old age, but at the same time they thought it wrong to put an end to their life them- selves.^ They had reached what was to them eternal life on earth, and they felt convinced that no new birth and death could separate them again from that eternal Self which they liad found, or which had found them.

And yet they did not believe in the annihilation of their own Self. Remember the dialogue in which Indra was introduced as patiently acquiring a knowl- edge of the Self. He first looks for the Self in the shadow in the water ; then in the soul while dream- ing ; then in the soul when in deepest sleep. But he is dissatisfied even then, and says ; " No, this cannot be ; for he, the sleeper, does not know himself (his self) that he is I, nor does he know anything that exists. He is gone to utter annihilation. I see no good in this."

But what does his teacher reply? " This body is mortal," he says, " and always held hy death, but it ia


Is hia vfages."



348 PHILOSOPHY AKD KELIGJOX.

the abode of the Self, which is immortal and witliout a body. When embodied (when thinking tliia body is I, and I am this body) the Self is held by pleiisure and pain. So long as he is thus embodied, lie cannot get rid of pleasure and pain. But when the Self is disembodied (when he knows himself to be ditferent from the body), then neither pleasure nor pain can touch iiim any more.

Yet this Self, the serene soul, or the highest per- son, does not perish, it only comes to himself again ; it rejoices even, it laughs and plays, but as a specta- tor only, never remembering the body of Iiis birth. He is tlie Self of tlie eye, the eye itself is but an in- strument : He who knows I will say this, I will hear this, I will think this, he is the Self ; the tongue, the ear, the mind are but instruments. Tlie mind is his divine eye, and tlirough that divine eye the Self sees all that is beautiful, and rejoices.

Here we see that annihilation was certainly not the last and highest goal to which the philosophy or the religion of the Indian dwellera in tlie forest looked forward. The true Self was to remain, after it had recovered himself. We cease to be what we seemed to be ; we are wliat we know ourselves to be. If the child of a king is exposed ajid brought up as the son of an outcast, he is an outcast. But as soon as some friend tells him who he is, he not only knows himself to be a prince, but he is a prince, and succeeds to the throne of his father. So it is with iis. So long as we do not know onr Self, we ai-e what we appear to be. But when a kind friend comes to us and tells us what we really are, then we are changed as in the tAvinkling of an eye : we come to our Self, we know our Self, we are our Self, as the young priiice knew his father, and thus became himself a king,

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PHILOSOPHY AMD EELIGIOX.


PHASES OF EELIGIOtJS THOUGHT. We liavii seeu a religion growing up from stage to stage, from tlie simplest childish prayers to the high- est metaphysiciil abatraetions. In the majority of the hymns of the Veda we might recognize the childhood ; in the Brdhmanas and their sacrificial, domestic, and moral ordinances the busy manhood ; in the Upani- shada the old age of the Vedic religion. We could have well understood if, with the historical progress of the Indian mind, they had discarded the purely childish prayers as soon as they had aiTived at the maturity of the BrahmaMas ; and if, when the vanity of sacrifices and the real character of the old gods had once been recognized, they would have beun super- seded by tlie more exalted religion of the Upanislnids. But it was not so. Every religious thought that had once found expression in India, that had once been handed down as a sacred heir-loom, was preserved, and the thoughts of the three historical periods, the child- hood, the manhood, and the old age of the Indian na- tion, were made to do permanent service in the three stipes of the life of every individual. Thus alone can we explain how the same sacred code, the Veda, contains not only the records of different phases of religious thought, but of doctrines which we may call almost diametrically opposed to each other. Those who are gods in the simple hymns of the Veda, are hardly what we should call gods when Pra^Spati, the one lord of living creatures, had been introduced in the Brahmanas ; and they ceased altogether to be gods when, as in the Upanishads, Brahman had been recognized as the cause of all things, and the individ- ual self had been discovered a mere spark of the eter- nal Self. .^ ,

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350 niiLOSOrHY and eeligkis.

For hundreds, nay, for thousands oE yeara this ancient religion has held its ground, oi', if it lost it for a time, has recovered it again. It has acconi- modafced itstilf to times and seasons, it has admitted niauy strange and incongruous elements. But to the present day there are still Brahmanic families who regulate their life, as well as may be, according to the spirit of the .^ruti, the revelation contained in the old Veda, and according to the laws of the Smriti, or their time-honored tradition.

Tliere are still Brahmanic families in which the son learns by heart the ancient hymns, and the father performs day by day hia sacred dntiea and sacrifices, while the grandfather, even though remaining in the village, looks upon all ceremonies and sacrifices as vanity, sees even in the Vedic gods nothing bnt names of what he knows to be beyond all names, and seeks rest iu the highest knowledge only, which has become to him the highest religion, viz., the so-called Veilanta, the end and fulfillment of the whole Veda.

The three generations have learnt to live together in peace. The grandfather, though more enlight- ened, does not look down with contempt on his son or grandson, least of all does he suspect them of hy- pocrisy. He knows that the time of their deliverance will come, and he does not wish that they should anticipate it. Nor does the son, though bound fast by the formulas of his faith, and strictly perfoiining the minutest rules of the old ritual, speak unkindly of his father. He knows he has passed through the iian-ower path, and he does not grudge him his free- dom and the wider horizon of his views- Is not here, too, one of the many lessons which an historical studv of religion teaches us?


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PHILOSOPHY AXD BELIGIOM. 351

When we see how in India those who in the ear- liest times worshiped Agiii, the fire, lived side by side with others who worshiped Indra, the giver of rain ; when we see how tiiose who involved Pi".i^fi,pati, the one lord of living creatures, did not therefore despise others who still offered sacrifices to the minor Devas ; when we see how those who had learnt that ill! the Deviis were merely names of the one, tlie liighest Self, did not therefore curse the names or break the altars of the gods whom they had formerly adored : may we not learn something even from the old Vedic Indians, though in many respects we may be far better, wiser, and more enlightened than they were or ever could have been ?

I do not mean thivt we should slavishly follow the example o£ the lirahmans, and that we should at- tempt to reintroduce the anccessive stsiges of life, the four Asramas, and the successive stages of religious faith. Our modem life is beyond such strict control. No one would submit to remain a mere ritualist for a time, and then only to be allowed to become a true believer. Our education has ceased to be so uniform as it was in India, and the principle of individual liberty, which is the greatest pride of modern society, would render such spiritual legislation as India ac- cepted from its ancient lawgivers utterly impossible with us. Even in India we only know the laws, we do not know how they were obeyed ; nay, even in India, history teaches us that the galling fetters of the old Brahmanic law were at last broken, for there can be little doubt that we have to recognize in Bud- dhism an assertion of the rights of individual liberty, and, more particularly, of the right of rising above the trammels of society, of going, as it were, into the


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352 rHiLOSorHY axd religion.

forest, and of living a life of perfect spiritual free- dom, wlienever a desire for such freedom arose. One of the principal charges brought by the orthodox Brahmans against the followers of Buddha was that "they went forth" (pravrai/), that they shook off the fettera of the law, before the appointed time, and without having observed the old rules enjoining a full course of previous discipline in traditional lore and ritualistic observances.

But though we need not mimic the ideal life of the ancient Aryans of India, though the circumstances of modern life do not allow us to retire into the forest when we are tired of this busy life, nay, though, in our state of society, it may sometimes be honorable "to die in harness," as it is called, we can yet learn a lesson even from the old dwellers in Indian forests ; not the lesson of cold indifference, bnt the lesson of viewing objectively, mthin it, yet above it, the life which surrounds us in the marketrplace ; the lesson of toleration, of human sympathy, of pity, as it was called in Sanskrit, of love, as we call it in English, though seldom conscious of the unfathomable depth of that sacred word. Though living in the forum, and not in the forest, we may yet learn to j^ee to differ with our neighbor, to love those who hate us on account of our religious convictions, or, at all events, unlearn to hate and persecute those whose own convictions, whose hopes and fears, nay, even whose moval principles differ from our own. That, too, is forest-life, a life worthy of a true forest-sage, of a man who knows what man is, what life is, and who has learnt to keep silence in the presence of the Eternal and the Infinite.

It is easy, no doubt, to find names for condemning


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PHILOSOPHY AKD EELIGIOS. 353

such a state of mind. Some call it shallow iiidifEer- ence, others call it dislionosty to tolerate a difference of religion for the different Asraiiias, the different stages of life, for our childhood, our manhood, and our old age ; stiil more, to allow any such differences for the educated and the uneducated classes of our society.

But let us look at the facts, auch as they are around us and within us, such as they are and as they always must be. Is the religion of Bishop Berke- ley, or even of Newton, the same as that of a plough- boy? In some points, Yes ; in all points, ,No. Surely Matthew Arnold would have pleaded m vain if peo- ple, particularly here in England, had not yet learnt that culture has something to do with religion, and Avith the very life and soul of religion. Bishop Berke- ley ■would not have declined to worship in the same place with the most obtuse and illiterate of plough- boys, but the ideas which that great philosopher con- nected with such words as God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost were surely as different from those of the ploughboy by his side as two ideas can well be that are expressed by the same words.

And let us not think of others only, but for our- selves ; not of the different phases of society, bat of the different phases through which we pass ourselves in our journey from childhood to old age. Who, if he is honest towards himself, could say that the re- ligion of his manhood was the same as that of his childhood, or the religion of his old iige the same as the religion of his manhood ? It is easy to deceive ourselves, and to say that the moat perfect faith is a childlike faith. Nothing can be truer, and the older we grow the more we learn to understand the wisdom


.GoQi^lc


354 FHILOSOPHY AXD RELIGION.

of a childlike faith. But before we can learn that, we have first to learn another les3on, namely, to put away ehiklish thhigs. There is the aaine glow about the setting sun as there is about the rising smi : but there lies between the two a whole world, a ioumey through the wliole sky, over tlie whole earth.

Tlie question, therefore, ia not, wliether there ex- ist these great differences of religion in the diffei-ent stages of each life, and in the diffei-ent ranks of soci- ety, but whether we shall frankly recognize the faet, as the ancient Brahmans recognized it, and try to de- termine accordingly onr position, not only towards those who use the same words in religion which we use, though with greatly varying meanings, but also towards tiiose who do not even use the same words ?

But then it is asked, Is it really indifEerent whether we nse the same words or not, whether we use one name for the Divine or many ? Is Agni aa good a name as Pra^apati, as Baal as good as Jeho- vah, or Ormazd as good as Allah? However ig- norant we may be as to the real atti'ibutes of the Deity, are there not some at least which we know to be absolutely wrong? However helpless we may feel as to how to worship God worthily, are there not certain forms of worship which we know must be re jected ?

Some answers to these questions there are which everybody would be ready to accept, though not everybody might see their full purport : —

" Of a truth I perceive that God is no respecter of persons : but in evei-y nation, he that feareth Him, and worketh righteousness, is accepted with Him." (Acts X. 34, 35.)

" Kot every one that saith unto me. Lord, Lord,


,G(h>qIc


PHILOSOPHY ASD RKLIGION. 355

shall enter into the kingdom of heaven ; but he that doeth the wilt of my Father which is in heaven." (St. Matthew vii. 21.)

But if SLicli testimony is not enougli, let ub try a similitude whicli, as applied to the Deity, liiis, better than any other similitude, helped us, as it has helped others before us, to solve many of our difficulties. Let us think of God as a father, let us think of men, of all men, as his children.

Does a father mind by what strange, by what hardly intelligible a name his child may call him, when for the first time trying to call him by any name ? Is not the faintest faltering voice of a child, if we only know that it is meant for ns, received with rejoicing ? Is there any name or title, however grand or honorable, which we like to bear better ?

And if one child calls us by one name and another by another, do we blame them ? Do we insist on uniformity ? Do we not rather like to hear each child calling us in bis own peculiar childish way ?

So much about names. And what about thoughts ? When children begin to think, and to form their own ideas about father and mother, if they believe their parents can do anything, give them everything, the very stars from the sky, take away all their little aches, forgive them all their little sins, does a father mind it ? Does be always correct tbem ? Is a father angry, even if bis children think him too severe ? Is a mother displeased if her children believe her to be kinder, more indulgent, more in fact a child her- self than she really is ? True, young children cannot understand their parents' motives nor appreciate their purposes, but as long as they trust and love their parents in their own peculiar childish way, what more do we demand ? ,-. .


866 PHILOSOPHY anii keligion.

And as to acts of worship, no doubt the veiy idea of pleasing tlie Eternal by killing an ox is repulsive to us. But, however repulsive it may seem to all ai'ound, what mother is there who would decline to accept tJie sweet morsel which her child offers her out of its own mouth and, it may be, with fingers anything but clean ? Even if she does not eat it, would she not wish the child to think that she hiid eaten it, nnd that it was very good? No, we do not mind in our children either mistaken names, or mis- taken thoughts, or mistaken acts of kindness, as long as they spring from a pure and simple heart.

What we do mind in children, even in little chil- dren, is their using words which they do not fully understand; their saying things which they do not fully mean ; and, above all, their saying unkind things one of another.

All this can only be a similitude, and the distance which separates us from the Divine is, as we all know, quite incommensurate with that which sepa- rates children from their parents. We cannot feel that too much ; but, after we have felt it, and only after we have felt it, we cannot, I believe, in our re- lation to the Divine, and in our hopes of another life, be too much what we are, we cannot be too true to ourselves, too childlike, too human, or, as it is now called, too anthropomorphous in our thoughts.

Let us know by all means that human nature is a very imperfect mirror to reflect the Divine, but in- stead of breaking that dark glass, let us rather try to keep it as bright as we can. Imperfect as that niir- ror is, to us it is the most perfect, and we cannot go far wrong in trusting to it for a little while.

And let us remember, so long aa we speak of poa-


~.ooqIc


PHILOSOPHY AXD BELIGION. S57

sibilities only, that it is perfectly possible, and per- fectly concflivable, tliat the likenesses and likelihoods which we project upon the unseen and the unknown may be true, in spite of all thiit we now call human weakness and narrowness of sight. The oM Brah- mans believed that as perfect or as imperfect as the human heart could conceive and desire the future to be, so it wonld be. It was to them according to their faith. Those, they thought, whose whole de- sire was set on earthly things, would meet with earthly things ; those who could lift their hearts to higher concepts and higher desires, would thus create to themselves a higher world.

But even if we resign ourselves to the thought that the likenesses and likelihoods which we project upon the unseen and the unknown, nay, that the hope of our meeting again as we once met on earth, need not be fulfilled exactly as we shape them to oui^ selves, where is the argument to make us believe that the real fnlfillment can be less perfect than what even a weak human heart devises and desires ? This trust that whatever is will be best, is what is meant by faitli, true, because inevitable faith. "We see traces of it in many places and in many religions, but I doubt whether anywhere that faith is more simply and more powerfully expressed than in the Old and the New Testaments : —

" For since the beginning of the world men have not heard, nor perceived by the ear, neither liath the eye seen O God, beside thee, what ho hath prepared for him that waiteth for him." (Isaiah Ixiv. 4.)

" But, as it is written. Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him." (1 Cor. ii. 9.) ^ ,


358 PHILOSOPHY AND P.ELIGIOS.

We may do wliiit we !ike, the liigliest which man can comprehend is man. One step only he may go beyond, and say that what is beyond niiiy be differ- ent, but it cannot be less perfect than the present : the future cannot be worse than the i>ast. Man has believed in pessimism, he has hardly ever believed in pejorisni, and that much decried philosophy of evolu- tion, if it teaches us anything, teaciies us a firm belief in a better future, and in a higher perfection which man is destined to reach.

The Divine, if it is to reveal itself jit all to ns, will best reveal itself in our own human form. However far the human may be from the Divine, nothing on earth is nearer to God than man, nothing on earth more godlike than man. And as man grows from childhood to old age, the idea of the Divine must grow wifch us from the cradle to the grave, from &8rama to asrama, from grace to grace. A religion which is not able thus to grow and live with ns as we grow and live, is dead already. Definite and un- varying uniformity, so far from being a aign of honesty and life, is always a sign of dislionesty and death. Every religion, if it is to be a bond of union between the wise and the foolish, the old and the young, must be pliiint, must be high, and doep, aud broad ; beiiring all things, believing all things, hop- ing all things, enduring all things. Tlie more it is so, the greater its vitality, the greater the strength and warmth of its embrace.

It was exactly because the doctrine of Christ, more than that of the founders of any other religion, of- fered in the beginning an expression of tJie Jiighest truths in which Jewish carpenters, Roman publicans, and Greek philosophers could join without dishon-


,G(h>qIc


PHILOSOPHY AXD RELIGION. dod

esty, that it has coiiciuered the best part o£ the world. It was because attempts were made from very early times to narrow and stiffen the outward signs and expressions of out faith, to put narrow dogma in the place of trust and love, that the Christian Church has often lost those who might have been its best defenders, and that the religion of Christ has almost ceased to be what, before all things, it was meant to be, a religion of world-wide love and charity.

EETEOSPECT.

Let us look back once more on the path on which we have traveled together, the old path on which our Aryan forefathei's, who settled in the land of the Seven Rivers, it may be not more than a few tliou- sand years ago, have traveled in their search after the infinite, the invisible, the Divine.

They did not start, as was imagined, with a wor- ship of fetishes. Fetish worship comes in in later times, where we expect it : in the earliest documents of religions thought in India there is no trace of it ; nay, we may go farther and say, there is no room for it, as little as there is room for lias before or within the granite.

Nor did we find in their sacred books any traces of what is commonly meant by a primeval revelation. All is natural, all is intelligible, and only in that sense truly revealed. As to a separate religions in- stinct, apart from sense and reason, we saw no neces- sity for admitting it, and even if we had wished to do so, our opponents, who, here as elsewhere, prove al- ways our best friends, would not have allowed it. In explaining religion by a rehgious instinct or faculty, we should only have explained the known by


.y


360 PHILOSOPHY ASD liKLIGlOS.

the less known. The real religious instinct or im- pulse is tliD perception of the infinite.

We therefore claimed no more for the ancient Aryans than what we claim for ourselves, and what no adversaries can dispute — our senses and our rea- son ; or, in other words, onr power of apprehending, as manifested in the senses, and our power of com- prehending, as manifested in worda, Man has no more, and he gains nothing by imagining that be has Euore.

We saw, however, that our senses, while they sup- ply us with a knowledge of finite things, are con- stantly brought in contact with what is not finite, or, at least, not finite yet ; that their chief object is, in fact, to elaborate the finite out of the infinite, the seen out of the unseen, the natural out of the super- natural, the pliaenomenal world out of tbo universe which is not yet phaenomenal.

From this pei-manent contact of the senses with the infinite sprang the first impulse to religion, the fii-st suspicion of something existing beyond what the senses could apprehend, beyond what our reason and language could comprehend.

Here was the deepest foundation of all religion, and the explanation of that which before everything — before fetishism, and figiirism, and animism, and anthropomorphism — needs explanation : why man should not have been satisfied with a knowledge of finite sensuous objects ; why the idea should ever have entered into his mind, that there is or can be anything in the world besides what he can touch, or he^ir, or see, call it powers, spirits, or gods.

When our excavations among the ruins of the Vedic literature had once carried us to that solid


,C(h>qIc


Abraham, his perception oE the unity

o! tlie GoiIliFaa, ai. Abi-sdniiin or Xubiaa tribes, 66.

— of Semitic race, 66. Accents in the Vein, 160.

— not marlted in later Sanskrit, 138.

— of Zeus and Dyaus aiiise. 138, Active, everythine named i


AistfaetoD, the infinite as, 45. Al^rva, or spiritual guide, 332. Akesloes, river, 194. ■ ' I, people of, worship the su


Inman, 181. IS, 2S4.

, 164.


Adit], the infinito, 218.

— nut a modern deity, 230.

— natural origin of, 230.

— the oldest, 231.

— th« pisca of, taken hr Rita, 231. Aditi and Dili, 221.

Aditya, the sun, 351, 354. idityas. sons of Adili, 219.

— seven or eight, 228. Adonai, 1T5.

Aduispriaiiia Samhitft, 169, note. Africa, fuli of animal fables, 112. African religion, higher eUmenla in,

— Waitz on, 102.

— many-sidedness of, 113. African savages, Portuguese sailors

on, 66. African tribes, classified by Waitz,


All-Father, Charles Kingeley on the,

203, 209. All-gods, V'avB Deras, 281. Amarta, not dying, 190. Amartya, an iinmortal, 251. American ethnologists, their excusa

• slavery, 88.

Iiyaya, or non-reading days.


Ancient and modern belief, differ- ence betvrecn, 8.

Ancient and modern literature in India, Buddhism the barrier be-

Ancient ntvtholog}-, how produced, 186.


— Indra, 230.

Agni, same as Indraand YishRn. Agnihotris, or sacrificers, 161. Ahu,_Zend, ec--' "


iropoiogy, Waiti'Bboofcon.JOa. leology begins' witb, 36. iropomorphism, 120, 180. Anthropopathism, 120, ISO. Antinomies of human reason, dis- cussed by Kant, 34. , Antiquity of relijjioii, 4.

' — itaranl, the, in burning the dead,

ipastamba Sfltra, (he, translated by

Apprehension of tlie Infinite, religion


Gooi^lc


141, 300.

rainbow,

gods af heir own


Ainm, flomeililng tliat cannot lie cut

Aliia or .iliiia, I'ulynasiau word for

— rterfvarinn of, ST. Aiiilible objects uinong the Vertio cleiliL.p, 20-2.

Anslriilio, hrst uaod l>y l)e lirosaes,


BAIIBA, great fetish of, 98. Buiiftra*, ftnily of tlie Veda Ht,

Bart'sniau, Zand = bralimnn, 346,

Bii-tiaii, on the word fetish, 37, note.

Rein-, the Unborn, 304.

Ilelief, ancient and modem, differ-

en.'es tietween. 8. Belief or uinnt, 8. Belief inclosoccoinmumty withfie

Gods, 164. Benedictine missionaries, 02.

licrlipr ami Copt lribc=, GG.

Heilirlcv, 327, 3o'i.

lihiiiniarliar, Professor, on native

]i.arnine, 157. BhavabliQti, 140.

Bliiksbii, nicndicont friar, 33T, 343. Bliikshukm Brahmans, 167. Bha, to grow, to be, 185. Bindiisfirv, 130, note. Black, 33.

— and blue, no difllinct words for nmonir sava^s, 39.

— eonfouiided with brown and creen in Arabic, 39.

— Yaryush, Ihe, 15T. Bliikkr, black in old Xorse, 39. Blainan and hla-iiiaOr, old Norse,


Bleak, A. S. blac, blxc, 40.

Bine, a late idea, 37.

Blue »i(y, not mentioned bf (he


CooqIc


Bonilav, Atharva-redis in, ICO.

Boc^k n^li^ione, 125.

Bralimoitilrin, eludcnts of Die Veda,


171, 176-

- on the Persian religion, 17E

- defenee of Greek polytheisu


Blffld, «-..r,l|lp


1 as Di


meter


Breath and >]m


ow. 8(1.



— e*Knce of tl


« «-"r]d



BtihaspBll, qun


ed, 13S



doclriiii^


,135.


— liis MVner,


ATarvafco, 135.


Brown coufoiindcd with black and

green in Arabic, 39. Biidiliia, l]iB denial of unv devas or

soda, 13.


— (lie froiitier iietween ancient in modem literature in India, 129.

-- and tlie third ptaKe, SSH.

— an aiwertion of tlie rights of in<

— 302. Bnddhist elories in metre and proE

— and Roman Catholic ceremonii 340.

Buddliiats deny the authority of t

Veda, 132. Buddhists, 338, note. Bnffon infltiftates d« Brosses' invt

Buhler, Ur., publication of Asoka'e

inscriptionB, 130, note. Burning of the dead, hymn on, TS.

Burton, on the llahomans, 69, note.

CABUL river, 1B4. Caesar, on the religion of the Germ ana, 176. Caesar and Tavitus, opposite reports

Caesius, 39.

Calvin and Seri-etus, 29!

Cals, the heel, 183,


Cliildhood, manhood, and old age of

the Indian religion, 3*9. Children and dolls, 119.

— their eurmundin(;s, ISO.

— coiitraBted with aavagea, 120. Cliiiia, tire colors known in, 3S. Cliinefle, tones in, 178. Chrisliana, as atheists, 394. Cicero, 228.

— liis derivation of relisio, 10.

— on man's possession of religion, 32.

Cicnga, the author of evil, 16. Clerical celibacy, 3*0. Cloisterfi, 310.

"' ds, the cowfl, 231, note. ■ingtoti, Kev. R, H.,


Castes, the four, 329. Caucasian, Sanskrit in, 128. Celsus, worship of the genii,


the n


ligion of the Melane

' Norfolk Island, 70, note.

■ on Itlota word for soul, 86.

■ on the confuaion in communica- tions betneea natives and £nt^ lish, 03.

Collapse of the gods, 299.

known to Demokriloa, 38. ...known in China, 39. Comtc and Feuerhach, 19. Concept of gods, 107,


Concepts, s


iai, 27. !, 27.


__.. ■, 179. Confession, 310. Conscious perception, impossible

without language, 38. Conseioueness of dependence, Schlei-

ermacher's view of religion, 18. Contact with death, its influence.


Copula, Bcnfencf

out the, 184,

Correlative conci

~ icil of Eplies


with-


y


Cousin Cows, — Ihe oloiu CreatP.l lici


11 In d inn philosophy, 143. --,331.


, 231, .


n ((ods in the

Crertii, 200.

Cmmlcolii, 94.

Cfuii'kihuiik, negropa of the Gold

CiKirt, 1IM. Culhi', Kaiifa vieii- of, 17.


1, lSO,'note. — ilare he iisos for Buddha's dealh,

CiirtiiU, K.'ubpr me Beds utung von

I>i>iphi, G, mle. Cj-rillusW.

D.\, to bind, diti derived irom rool, 21ti. DA, in Ztnd = Sk. i& and dhn, 230.


Vcda-Sftkhil, 155 Danii. tht, 201. 220

— ffoldon-coloitd chariot of the 221

— ivifo and daughter of the snn


■aofafeUah 61


l-ion, difficulty of, S lecessitv of, S.


— by Rohleiernincher (dependence) Dtilicnii'on of parts of natiii'u, 204.


ipts, atheistical opinions of tl

ities, 2QS.

or intnnfcible objects, IT.

dua), 280.

itv, idea of, slowlv perfects

U3.

liana, ignorant of gfomelpy, IJ


De pail i n't ?oiiIs as small si

Ktara in Fiji, 83. Dependence, Sclileiemiacbe

nition of reiifjion, 18. I>cva, 183.

— dtiivalion of. 4.

— ineanin;; bripiit, 5, 200, 2


3 or facultica, 106,


bittlea between 307.


iTiod of telif; on Heno-


Dtl rortDa.toi i

D ■. me, concept f tl l. _4'

— (leva verv far from, 284.

Dolla and cfiildron, 110.

Dolmen, y*.

Dual Deiti>!S, 290.

Duaiismi of good and evil


CooqIc


CO T9 d 2 9 r 2 .


K


iio[ogi<:jil menn >.n<:^ of r,-ligio


BgOf« 

e, 105.


?fl


10.

relj


Ev


"nFriT'nsimren



Ev Es


utioii'in Vedio erna! revelation


t;r


327



■pADLESofanim ^ FiicuUol occult Ffloul.ie*, 1-ooke on Facullv, objections Fail!,, S9 a religiou


23, aole. 10 tlie word, 22. faculty in nian,


369

on, three func-


ns Ic cd aa degrading, nctfr I idolatry, 81.


FetisEiea, Ut: liroases' idea of, 61.


-eleplianlsas, 1


0.



-inlheAtliarva


Veda, 191.



— inatrumonlB n


ver becoine


193,





-selLeVs of, despi


fd, 01.



-believers in, o;


ledinlidcls,



Felinliism, IJe 11




-the originBl form of all raligioi



iuiit, definitions re

' linnidcdgp, 14.

>0, 180.

K pliilosophy, &B.

tuppreliendtliein

iniil an irfuilw, i3


Mil, Ilegti'a duHiiilion o OpOrigcoundCelsus, 196


I fp ( ek b I ff n


PM rVMSTIVD 3J1


aildrs s d o Sa (


CcioqIc


e word for fetisli, CO,


Gujarat, study of tha Veda jn, 15T.


. Hamiltou, Sir W., 213.


tky, 33. — oil tile longini; for Ihe g( Honioiiym' ' ""


LO Himulnvaa, ITO.


1, 103.


2C1.

— of tiie inflnite ltowHi of the, 40.

— of Ian-, 228.

Idnlatrv distinct from fetisli wor-

sliip,'01. Ite, the seat of the gods 108. Iguis, Sk. uguls, Ill's, 109. haat-ea of Ihe jfoda, rougli, 90, Immaterial matter, Hubert Mayer's

view of, 37.


e, tlie first, to tlie perception Buddiiinii tiie bnvi'jer between


diief i<j|liin_i;


of religion itiou, ena n tha bles


ln,_l iiigs


ill. of doing


Agni.'a A^-iii a.


od VisllHIl


ideii


cal, 280.


i, Sdrya


den tilled with.



renie Rod,


iiym


to. 270.


a supreme gnd, 270. the due of, Saninill, 232.

— Ika rain-jriver, 205.

— Jupiler pluviua, 268. Iiid-u, drop9 of rain, 201. Inferior spirits, 104. EnHnite, the, Aditi, 218.

— apprelieusion of, 33.



D a ed


L


CooqIc


n rel irinas naef loess oE tbe v of 124 fnn H- an- 59 ( 1 e. 2J te a aCurunUelie era 134


Maor[ ivnrd fur shadow, used in

Mota for boqJ, Sfi. Ifo r bb'ng 177 — » peral ve 1 8 Jin /a ntr stud of hBTeda


MADHI,,honei,193. BIildlivapdfiiiiG, ho r dicate tho accents, 1611.

— leaniiiu; the Veda, IGO

— sfikha, 157. ., Mifi-w Mi'v-tr Uberdio V


14 M 1 1 i-iMrjifjfiomthe

14 e

"M t eMjEuiir,39«iK«;68

SI il ton 2

M b 14)

M U nn 2jl ao3

— f e d forM n 2a3 noie I e b _h n "^S

e earth S59

n buT 1 1 dent tied


-srea«.U le. A), a. 290


M


din


Mantra period 145 Ma u sof 148 — VaiTia ata tl e po


n f n f rel gion

en I preceded bv ol the sm 28 B al 2r2


.y


SI nn in Ei^rer 181


N"


ft" (


I 1 11


O rather v\ ch arl Hoar


~ a n B c sense 168 liadi n at r ov 98 I «tr on 2-

Pa D 11


GooqIc


Panini and Tilska, period

153, Pfl.«iiii's Grammar, known

log. Paiithenn, Tedic, 205. Tuna, Scythian name tor G Papua, the, worahipiDt; hia


- m\A concepts, ad '. time of slooe, b


VJli-io,,,_neroaol


l...|fL'b>'is. 195,


Koii'^'s,' 177,' 170,

if the Upiinishoilfi, 3M,


Polvue 64.

— Sanskrit in, 198, Polynoainn word for God, 88. Polynesiars, Whitinee on, 71.

— national traditions, 71.

— legends in prosa and noetrv, T2. Pulytheism, 261, 303.


Prodikos on Iha gods, 176.

} and poetry, Polynesia _..iJ8 in both, 73. Psvcholatiy, 119. "■■'■"lo opinion, influence of, 01 TS, 83. „ la, a battle, 168. Pnnctum, 163,

PorSna, extracts from, li9, » Puranas, 149.


,


CooqIc


L in religion, frcqii t an progreE9ioa ii


amtiiTg'to iluiu'i, 33-3, note Eig-Veaa, tlie only real Vada 1 — cnnipared wkb the Atbarva Vi


RiS-Vedn-iu,lilia, tii

Ei^hi, i^ubjucl of thi Situ, 328.


V, 33i,

i-^iia, 181.

,Tliy offered by men of

_, 130.

St. Aiilhoay and Portuguese snilora, ino Vngu'itme h 9 danya on of re-

1 " In 8 e^ of u Ro mn Pallio-

S\kl la or rei UB 13 ot ll e Veda,

101 BU "Wnsai jk ao BaddhEsts,

!9 of Wettem


Sa


1 15 r.


L r„ ■Vela 158.


— in AnhainZend, 340.

— abode of, tlie East, 231.

— as Ihe plavo where tlieyuni the lioi-ses, 231.

— takc-tlmiilataotAditi,

— llieljiwof. 2:11.

— til.- imlli uf, tlje ri^ht pa h


SABAOTII, 17!


Santbahiiilud


a. 201.



Sa


aina, pean of day, 232.




coty of, 233





he dog of I


dra, 2-32.



Sfl



of San-im.1. 232.


-


erniG?, 25d


vitli Il^rme


as or


Sa


osvati, Sur^,


U. rilTF, 11)4



Sa


.■a,'lUelr"i"


233, 2 JS.



Sa


ages, abstn


sETi


zed an.



micbMran


a, 120.



iffloiilty of studying the


reli^on



f, 05.





auguafte of,


6T.




ab e (I pe d n 2 IS


Senses, gate of the, 212.


1 te 3 3


, CooqIc


Spijiozfl, SOT.

Spirils. iiislevolent, 104.

Spiritual piiiiles nr M-arvns, 332.

SrfLd'lhn, 13B.

,Srad-dh;"i, creflo, 200. fiote.

SramflHa,ascaIic, 342.

Si-otrivas, oml tradition of, 152.


Steps, the four, 121. Stent iLUtler, 180

— Bill wor<lipi(l 06


Manit'js S


a kill.


'iEid.fliiSimUiti loO note 6idrnB 331

— proliibited from knowing the Ve

— Bervanls or .laves 830 Snlabhvand Canaka 343

i.il\a Sfllra'. n irnjara and ronnd

■ .200.

IV "fed svnonvt ,_

... - ...-i,aS6.

— a defender and protector, 25G,

— dies, 233.

— a divine beioft, 255.

— natnes for, 251.

— maker of all things, 257,

— Bees everilliing, 255.

— knons the thoughts in men, 21)6.

— settled movement of, 230.


-the, iL _.._,

- as a Bupeniatural power, 25&.

- in a Becondarv position, 2S0.

- TvndalVa dieuoveries, 2O0.

- vsrioua names for, 251, 253.

- Xenophon on thu, 2(12, note. luperiiaturol power, the sun as

- predicate of a fetish, whence i nved, 117.

lupreme lieing, meaning of nan

for the, til5. -md, Indra a? a, 270. .-Varuna, a-^n, 273.


pun, 251.

B n of the 'kv 251

<i5t«c and bol i\ed of Plishan,


Bushoma riier 1 i %iitlej, nier, lli Sfltra period 140 " ' "s phiio'nph' n the 141 in &itlej ml


Tflnt,il le anl 'cmi tangible division

of sen e ohjecy 188 — objetti an ongVeiic deities 191.

Taplm "HieNamniori fiS iw)(c

Tatt\am, tbouart It, 345

Ten Commandments plice a^aipied

to the prohibition oi images, 114. Teraphim, the, 67. Thales, declared all things full of the

gods, 13. ^


TheoBonj- of the Veda, 21G.

— of Hesiod, 190.

Theology, begins with anthropology,



CooqIc


.on of Pralir.dQ nnd lijj.Uhii 308. Vishnu, 140.


— supports (lif; worlils, 2G0.

— Iiidnt and Aj,nii iiientical, 280. Visible, the, n:id Invisible, 20T.

— itiRiihe, 231. Visvaknnimii, maker n£ all things


BvaB, All-gods, 281.

"-' "ehat, 184.

.oceiit of, 13».

. _..., 140.

Vi-ika, a wolf and plough, 180,


ants, Hy>l - of Dj-fli,


W"


•n the BUD, 302, nete.

ws of, 14; 1 Maitreyj,

Yil(;nikiu, the, 168. Tama and NaiiketKf, 320. YamnnA, Jumna river, 194. TashSr, straight, 2S6, nole. Tasks, and I'Siiini, period between,

153. Tnli. the, 337. Yearly EnerliiteB, 335. Tehus, their pravers, lOB. Tonibas, name" for God, Olorim,



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