The Iliad of the East

Preface

Of the two great epic poems of India, the Ramayana and the Maha-bharata, the former is generally supposed to have claims to the greatest antiquity. The title of the work is derived from two Sanskrit words— i^//^ and ay ana, signifying the adventures of Rama ; the Prince whose virtuous career is therein recorded, being Rama Chandra, the hero of the Kshatriya or warrior caste, — as distinctive from Parasu- Rama, the champion of the Brahmans, and Bala- Rama, the brother of Krishna, the Hercules of Hindu mythology.

Rama Chandra, like his two illustrious namesakes, is supposed to be an Avatar, i.e. an incarnation, of Vishnu, who at the request of mortals and immortals consented to pass through this lower phase of existence that mankind might be delivered from the oppression of the demon Ravana, whose life Brahma had secured against all save a human hand ; but whilst the hero passes through his many struggles and

PREFACE.

afflictions in utter ignorance, or forgetfulness, of his divine nature, he appears for the most part as a courageous and devoted man, and is seldom withdrawn from our warmer sympathies by any display of supernatural endowments.

It is probable, even, that the story of Rama's birth owes somewhat of its miraculous character to the passage of the primary legend through the hands of the Brahmans; who would naturally be more disposed to attribute Rama's virtue to some special condescension on the part of a celestial being, than to admit that an}' member of an inferior caste could rise to so high a state of perfection. " It is certainly likely," says Professor Williams in his interesting essay on Indian Epic Poetry, " that at some remote period, probably not long after the settlement of the Aryan races in the plains of the Ganges, a body of invaders, headed by a bold leader, and aided by the barbarous hill-tribes, may have attempted to force their way into the peninsula of India as far as Ceylon. The heroic exploits of the chief would naturally become the theme of song, and the hero himself would be deified ; the wild mountaineers and foresters of the Vindhya and neighbouring hills who assisted him would be poetically converted into monkeys, and the powerful

PREFACE.

and savage Aborigines into many-headed ogres and blood-lapping demons ; these songs would be the property of the Kshatriya, or fighting caste, whose deeds they celebrated, but the ambitious Brahmans, who aimed at religious and intellectual supremacy, would soon see the policy of collecting the rude ballads which they could not suppress, and moulding them to their own purpose." (Indian Epic Poetry, p. 9.)

Professor Max Miiller 1 also gives it as his opinion that some actual military expedition gave rise to the legend of the Ramayana ; and he compares this struggle to the war against Persia, which did so much to elevate the Greek character, by demonstrating the superiority of valour and discipline over brute-force.

The Ramayana comprises in all some twenty-four thousand verses, or slokas — the Sanskrit word for the peculiar metre supposed to have been invented, in a moment of inspiration, by the Poet Valmlki, and subsequently accepted by Hindu writers as the proper form of expression for heroic poetry. 2 The

1 History of Ancient Sanscrit Literature, p. 1 7.

2 Assuming that the Valmiki-sloka owes its origin to the author or authors of the Ramayana, we should here have proof that the poem was anterior to the Maha-Bharata, where the same metre occurs : — on the other hand, this would exclude the Ramayana from the Vedic

PREFACE.

poem is further divided into six books, which are as follow :

The Adi-Kanda, — which commences with the introductory episode of Valmiki's call to be a poet ; then proceeds to the story of Rama's birth, of his childhood and early youth, of his marriage with Sita, and concludes with a somewhat important episode, viz. the triumph of the youthful warrior over Parasu- Rama, which incident alone suffices to show that the primary author or authors of the poem did not belong to the Brahmanic caste.

The Ay5dhya-Kanda, — which tells of Dasaratha's wish to share the government with his son Rama ; of Kaikeyi, the jealous stepmother's plot to procure the young prince's banishment ; of Rama's ready submission, and of the departure into exile of Rama, Sita, and Lakshmana, the devoted brother of the hero ; of Dasaratha's death, and of Bharata's vain attempts to persuade his brother Rama to ascend the throne, until the term of his exile had expired.

The Aranya-Kanda, — which treats of Rama's residence in the forest Dandaka ; of the offence given to Surpanakha, the sister of Ravana ; of Ravana's

period, where the Valmiki-sloka is unknown, though in the Sutras there are Anushtubh and more Trishtubh-slokas.

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abduction of Sita; of Rama's search for the traitor, and his alliance with Sugriva, brother to the King of the monkey tribes.

The Kiskindhya-Kanda, — where Sugriva relates the ill-treatment he has met with at the hands of his brother, Balin, and where Rama slays this unjust monarch and gives the rule to Sugriva, who in his gratitude sends forth his subjects to scour the country in search of Sita. The company of monkeys under the command of Hanuman, Son of the Wind, learn from an old vulture that Ravana has taken his captive to the isle of Lanka, and encamp accordingly on the sea-coast.

The Sundara-Kanda, — in which we read of the marvellous adventures of Hanuman, who leaps across the sea, and after many vicissitudes discovers Sita. The faithful ambassador returning to fetch Rama, the hero and his allies are sorely put to it, to know how they are to cross the sea, when the Spirit of the Ocean appears to them, and bids them construct a mole ; which is done, under the superintendence of Nala, son of Visvakarman, the architect of the pleasant heavens where dwell the gods.

The Yuddha-Kanda, — which contains a full account of the struggle ; of the valour of both armies, and

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the fierce heroism of Ravana ; finally of Rama's triumph and the death of his adversary; of the vindication of Slta's purity, and — the allotted time having expired— of the exiles' joyous return to their native city.

There is a seventh book sometimes appended to the Ramayana, entitled the Uttara-Kanda, which records the apotheosis of Rama, but it is a comparatively modern addition, and conceived in a spirit quite at variance with the rest of the poem.

As may be well imagined, of these twenty-four thousand slokas, there are many hundreds that might be abstracted without in any way damaging the work's entireness. There are countless repetitions, besides digressions which occupy sometimes the best part of a volume. Above all, passages abound at nearly every page, which, though not impure in themselves, are calculated to offend the nicer refinement of our time. In spite of these drawbacks, the Ramayana is so rich in poetic beauty and genuine humour, — reveals at the same time so high a moral standard, and a spirit of such large and tender humanity, that it seems strange it should have remained so long unrecognized by English lovers of literature. Translations in Italian and French have appeared, and Schlegel has

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translated the three first books into Latin ; but up to the time of the commencement of this work, the excellent but necessarily very condensed summary given in Professor Williams' essay, to which I have referred, and some fragments translated here and there, by an admirer of Indian literature, was all that was available to the English reader. I am told indeed that a translation of the poem was undertaken by Messrs. Carey and Marchmont in 1806, and the first three volumes actually printed at Serampore; but unhappily the vessel conveying them was lost at sea, and only a few specimen copies, that had been previously despatched, arrived in this country. Of these, one is to be had at the reading-room of the British Museum ; this translation, however, only carrying the reader through the best part of the Aranya-Kanda, — that is to say, about half through Valmlki's production.

It would of course require a Sanskrit scholar of no ordinary proficiency to render the Ramayana literally into English ; and whilst an immense service would thereby be rendered our literature, it is scarcely probable that such a work would become generally popular, both on account of the unwieldy dimensions of the poem, and of the other disadvantages I have

PREFACE.

mentioned. My object in this present work has been to give a readable and familiar form to these Eastern stories ; certainly as well deserving of general appreciation as the legends of Grecian and Scandinavian mythology. As regards the plan and facts of the story, I have been careful of course strictly to follow the original ; and it has been my endeavour to comprehend in this small volume all the most striking and noteworthy incidents recorded by the inspired Brahman. I have told these facts in my own language, rather than in that of my guide, the French translator, Mons. Fauche, firstly, because not being able to refer to the original Sanskrit I have no opportunity of deciding how far he has himself been textually faithful to Valmiki ; and secondly, because such frequent and lengthy omissions would have been necessary to compress into moderate volume any general idea of the narrative, that the most remarkable passages, from a poetical point of view, would have been eliminated, and a quite erroneous impression as to the style and literary value of the original produced.

Then, as to the title I have chosen ; — I am far from wishing to uphold the somewhat daring theory, advanced by Monsieur Fauche, that Homer, during his voyages with his captain and disciple, Mentes,

PREFACE.

probably fell in with some Phoenician merchants who, together with Indian wares, brought also the legends current in that distant land, which undoubtedly the youthful Melesigenes never visited himself, or later, in his days of blindness, he had delighted to picture in his poetry, the richness of landscape, and the fulness of sunlight, in that country whence he drew inspiration. Fascinating and ingenious as this suggestion is, I dare not for a moment presume that it was this chance encounter, and no war against Ilium, nor the legend of any such war, that furnished the poet with that skeleton of facts to which his genius gave a soul.

Nor would I ask you to admit the somewhat less presumptuous assertion, that the epic poems of Greece and India found their source in one and the same historical incident.

But the analogy between the two works is striking enough, and the differences are sufficiently characteristic, to make the comparison interesting and instructive. Thus, in both instances, we have a wife carried off from her lawful lord, and an expedition undertaken to recover her and punish the ravisher. But, on the one hand, we have the beautiful but abandoned Helen ; on the other, the chaste and devoted Sita, whose childlike and yet heroic character xiv *- PREFACE.

is one of the most charming sketches of womanhood I know.

Again, whilst we admire the valour of the Grecian warriors, there clashes with this feeling an involuntary repugnance at their bloodthirstiness, which no note calling our attention to the different code of the socalled " heroic " age can do away with. But in the Yuddhakanda we have side by side with deeds of daring the generous forbearance towards a weary or wounded adversary, and the fair and honourable warfare which, one would think, must at al^times have been essential to true heroism.

Stories of slaughter being monotonous as well as unattractive, I have chosen less incidents from the Yuddhakanda than from the other volumes ; but the kind reception of the deserter Vibhishana contrasted with the murder of Dolon by Ulysses and Diomed, after they had lured him to give them the information they desired, and the funeral honours paid to the dead Ravana, compared to the dragging of Hector's corpse at Achilles' chariot wheel, are sufficient to show the different standards revealed, severally, by the two poems.

To conclude, I cannot but break through my rule, for once, to translate literally the panegyric with which the author himself winds up the story : —

PREFACE. xv

" He shall be delivered from sin, the man who, in the world, can keep in his ears this tale of the Raghuide of indefatigable deeds.

" He shall have sons, if he desire sons ; he shall have riches, if he long for riches ; he who in the world hearkens whilst they read what Rama did.

"The young girl who desires a husband shall obtain this husband to delight her soul; has she beloved ones journeying in a strange land, it shall be given her soon to have them restored her.

" Those who in the world listen to this poem, composed by Valmlki himself, shall acquire every gift, the object of their desire, just as they may have wished !"

Reader ! need I excuse myself further, for having drawn your attention to a work of such altogether unusual efficiency ?

April 1870.

Note. — I take this opportunity of gratefully acknowledging the valuable assistance I have received from the eminent Sanskrit scholar, Dr. Haas, to whom I owe the system I have followed in rendering the names of the personages of our history into English.

The Sanskrit alphabet not being equivalent to our own, there exists the most perplexing diversity, the same word having six or seven orthographies, as employed by different authors : for what homology of method may exist in this work I am indebted to the learned gentleman I have named.

THE 'REUNION OF S1TA AND RAMA 301

NOTES 3 11

THE ILIAD OF THE EAST.

Chapter I. How Valmiki Received The Gift Of Foesy

Eighteen hundred years before the Christian era 1 a devout and learned Brahman, named Valmiki, withdrew from the habitations of men, and took up his abode in the wild and solitary forest. No contempt nor aversion for his fellows led him to abandon their society. Nor did he, after the manner of those times, hope by * macerations and self-inflicted penances to obtain some special boon from Brahma, some dignity in this world, or some assurance of happiness in the future state. What he sought was an unobscured vision, an unbiassed conscience, an impartial judgment.

Standing near to, and on a level with it, a man does not perceive the true features of a country : that which is near obscures what is distant, or gives an erroneous impression of its importance ; but if he climb a moun-

1 Vide Note I .

B

Chap. I. Valmiki takes tip hzs abode in the forest

Chap. I.

The manner of his life there.

tain, and look down on the whole scene, all things retain their just and relative proportions.

Thus did Valmiki, from a distance, survey all life, that, having learnt to know living creatures better, he might be able to serve them more.

The forest where he dwelt was like a marvellous temple reared by the hand of Nature. The trunks of the lofty tamarind and mango trees were as the columns which upheld the roof of foliage, where birds of a thousand dazzling hues flashed to and fro, like gems that had taken to themselves wings : the ground was richly strewn with flowering shrubs, that entwined their gorgeous blossoms, and wrought them into fantastic patterns : the air was heavy, as with perfumed incense ; and in the shady nooks and glens myriads of guilty creatures found sanctuary.

For many years, the Brahman lived in these lonely wilds, dividing his time between contemplation, and the observance of those sacred rites, which are reverent words of greeting spoken to the universal Father, who is at once the source of life and its sustainer.

The simple inhabitants of the woods soon abandoned \ their terror of the harmless anchorite ; he in whose heart dwelt the love of universal nature, whose sole nourishment consisted of roots and berries, and to whom the passion of anger was unknown, became for them a guru 1 and a friend, to whom they had recourse whenever they needed counsel or sympathy. Even the timid gazelles, who came in flocks, in the cool of even, to the borders of the stream to quench their 1 Guru— master, teacher. \

VALMIKPS RESIDENCE IN THE FOREST.

The

thoughts •which possessed him.

thirst, and offer to Brahma their thanksgiving for the gift of lustrous waters, at his approach, would merely raise to his face their large, grave eyes, pleading : "We are at our prayers : forgive us if, just now, we do not wish you good-evening, dear Valmiki ! "

Often, when the cool night had hushed the feverish pulses of the day, would the thoughtful Hermit pace the narrow pathways of the wood, pondering on disunion, and cruelty, and sin, and on the best method of banishing them for ever from a world whose natural beauty they deface. Then the glow-worm would extenuate itself, to shed forth a brilliant light, " Lest," he whispered, " the kindly guru tread unawares on some serpent or poisonous plant ! "

The tigers and other beasts of prey would creep stealthily out of sight.

" Valmiki would chide us," they said, " if he knew that we were about to destroy life. But what are we to do ? We do not find roots and berries agree with us."

At the sound of his footsteps the flower would open pi her corolla, and ask, half sleepily, half tenderly :

"Are you ill, Valmiki, that you are so restless? There is a healing virtue in my root ; pluck me, if you will, O saintly anchorite !"

But the Hermit answered :

" I am not ill, dear little sister ! It is the thought of the evil that is in the world, which keeps me wakeful."

At length, one evening when the pensive anchorite 2 . sat at the entrance of his hut, reflecting as usual on gg^

B 2

Chap. I.

Ndrada is sent to the

Chap. I.

Valmiki explains that man needs an example of human virhte to stir his emulation.

the method of rendering man noble and generous and pure, Narada, the messenger of the gods, appeared to him. When he saw the knit brows and the earnest gaze of the Hermit, he smiled, and said to him :

" By the contemplation of the glorious Immortals, on whose raiment is no speck of dust, and whose heads are crowned with garlands of undying flowers ;. by the recital of the deeds wrought by their invincible might ; by the history of their bounteous gifts and heroic lives, the soul of man must be elevated. Is not this so, Valmiki?"

"Nay," answered the Hermit, sadly ; "I once thought

this, but I was in error ! Man is not immortal— he is

not strong, nor rich, nor joyous; his garments— ay,

and his soul too — need to be cleansed often from

defilement. How then shall he be incited to great

j actions by the achievements of the gods ? Gazing on

the sun, does he learn how to shine ; or on the ocean,

to engulph great rocks ? He says of such deeds, truly,

j they are great, but they were not wrought by men /"

" How then shall he be ennobled ?" asked Narada.

The Brahman was silent for a while, reflecting

deeply ; then he answered :

" Were it possible to hold up in his sight one clothed like himself in mortal flesh ■ poor and weak, and tried by suffering even as he is, who has yet done generously and well ; who has upheld truth and justice, endured sorrow without bitterness, controlled his passions, and dealt kindly by all living creatures : then truly had he a pattern whereby to shape his life — an example to

NAR ADA'S VISIT TO VALMIKI.

stir his emulation, and fire him with the thought : ' Shall not I attain to this heroism ? Am not I also a man ? ' "

" Ay," answered the god, " you say truly ! But can there a man be found whose life displays, indeed, this unblemished virtue ? In all the three worlds, is there such an one?"

" I, who honour Mankind, would fain think so," answered the Hermit, meekly. " It is true that it has \ not been vouchsafed me to meet with one thus per- j feet in mind and deed, but Humanity is great, and | counts many heroes."

At that, the messenger of the gods smiled his approval.

"You do well," he answered, "to believe in ma?i ; ! that is a faith conducive to high and generous deeds. Yes ; there exists, indeed, a Hero who has clearly | shown that the human load of suffering and weakness I is powerless to impede the upward growth of him who raises his soul above dishonour, and whose glowing deeds must kindle men's self-respect, and show them, j as in a mirror, the noble stature to which it befits | them to attain.

" Rama, the son of Dasaratha, is the name of this illustrious Hero. By respect for his father's promise unwittingly given to Kaikeyi, his treacherous stepmother, this young prince, the heir to the throne, abandoned the court, and the fair town of Ayodhya, and wandered forth into exile. In the solitary forest, with ! Lakshmana, his brother, and his wife, the lovely young Sita, he led a contented existence, banishing all resent-

Chap. I.

Ndrada asks, is tkere a man worthy to be an exa7nple 1 and Valmlki admits he knows none.

The god briefly tells the life of Rama.

THE ILIAD OF THE EAST.

Chap. I.

ment from the minds of his companions, as well as from his own. The innocent guests of the wood he avoided injuring or alarming ; but when the blameless anchorites implored protection against the evil Rakshasas, the enemies of gods and of men, he armed himself in their defence. During this war, Ravana, the king of the Rakshasas, having artfully disguised himself as a hermit, entered the dwelling of Rama and carried off the beautiful Sita, in spite of her supplications for mercy. Indignant at this outrage, the birds and beasts of the forest, one and all, promised to succour this Rama, who had ever shown a tender regard for their safety. Even his terrible grief for the loss of his beloved Sita did not render the Hero indifferent to the wrongs of others. In his pursuit of Ravana, having encountered the mournful ape, Sugriva, whom the unjust suspicions of Bali pursued from place to place, he espoused the cause of the innocent monkey ; and when the unnatural Bali was 'about to murder his younger brother, he slew this unjust monarch of apes, and gave the empire into the hands of Sugriva. Thus he won the devoted attach^ ment of these agile lords of the forest. Hanuman, the prime minister of Sugriva, the daring son of the Wind, having traversed at one bound the seething and turbulent ocean, discovered Sita, confined in the Island of Lanka. Thus was Rama recompensed for not having disdained the affection of inferior creatures. Having marched with Lakshmana, and Sugriva, and the whole army of apes, the magnanimous Dasarathide slew the Rakshasa in battle, and gave to

NAR ADA'S CHARGE TO THE HERMIT.

his vanquished enemy the obsequies befitting a king. Then, the fourteen years of exile to which the promise had bound him having expired, he returned, with his joyous Sita, to the happy town of Ayodhya. There sharing the empire with Bharata, the son of Kaikeyi, who had nobly reigned in his absence, the illustrious Rama seeks to ensure the happiness of his people by a wise and merciful government. An obedient son, a loyal brother, a chaste spouse, a faithful ally, a fearless yet a merciful enemy, disdainful of none, but filled with kindly consideration for all living creatures, tell me, O saintly anchorite ! does not this kingly Rama wear a crown of transplendent virtues?"

Then Valmlki, transported with gladness, exclaimed : " This is the man I have sought, whose story shall bring to the hearer the knowledge of Truth and of Virtue ! "

" And now," continued Narada, " can there a bard be found worthy to hymn the life of this hero — his patience, his chastity, his valour, and his tender respect of life ? In all the three worlds, is there such an one ? "

Then the head of the humble anchorite was bowed mournfully on his breast.

"Alas ! " he answered, " I know not such an one!"

" Yet," returned Narada, " he lives, this poet, who shall give to the noble deeds of Rama the wings of harmony, that they may brood over the souls of men ; keeping nobleness and generosity and purity ever in their sight ! I charge you, Valmlki, by your love for

Chap. I.

Valmlki exclaims tkat here is the perfect m<in he has sought.

Chap. I.

Charged by the god to discover a poet able to sing the story of Rama, Valmiki is troubled.

He prepares to bathe in the lake Tatnasd, when he sees two herons of rare beauty.

man, that you rest not until you have discovered this inspired bard ! "

With that the divine envoy returned to his celestial home.

The Hermit was sore troubled by his last words. "How shall I discover this highly gifted poet in these solitary wilds ? " he asked himself. " Surely my Disciple, Bharadvaja, is not he? "

And with that he turned an inquiring gaze on his Disciple. Now Bharadvaja was an excellent young man, but of a simple and mild demeanour • the fire of Poesy looked not forth from out his eyes.

More and more perplexed, haunted by the words — " I charge you, by your love for man, that you rest not until you have discovered this inspired bard!" — Valmiki arose, and sought the little lake Tamasa, whose waves are limpid and transparent as is the soul of a Brahman.

"To be clean and pure is to attain great wisdom," said the Hermit, thoughtfully ; " in these fresh waters will I lave the body that has been put under my dominion ; and may the One Divine Spirit, in whose hand lies my soul, so cleanse it also that no earthly defilement may dim its perceptions ! "

So saying, the saintly Anchorite prepared himself reverently for those ablutions which to the Brahman's mind have so holy a significance.

Whilst he yet lingered on the brink, he beheld, on the opposite shore of the lake, two herons of surpassingly beautiful plumage. It was the season when an ineffable tremor thrills all Nature, and when she

THE DEATH OF THE HERON.

responds with passion to Love's whispered invitation.

There is, at this time, more beauty in the world : all living things are radiant with ardour ; the colours of the trees and flowers are of a richer dye ; the insects wrap themselves in fire, and all birds break forth into song !

" We thank Thee, O Supreme Author of life ! " exclaimed these herons of marvellous plumage, " for the gift of lustrous waters; for the wings which give us empire over the realms of air; but, above all, we thank Thee for the mysterious transports of love, which make us find all bliss, each in the other ! "

But even whilst these harmless birds expressed thus joyously their thanksgiving, the arrow of some pitiless hunter hissed through the startled air, and, piercing the poor breast of one of the winged lovers, destroyed the life that had just reached the supreme moment of delight ! Then the dolorous shrieks of the bereaved heron, who beheld his innocent mate stretched there dabbled in blood, saddened the shores of the lake Tamasa; saddened, too, the heart of the kindly Hermit.

" O cruel hunter ! " he cried ; " mayst thou attain no glory in the eternal revolution of years, since thou hast not feared to strike this heron in the delirious moment of love ! "

As the bubbling springs gush from the breast of Prithivi, 1 so leapt the words from his heart; and as the sound of flowing waters mellows itself into 1 Prithivi— goddess of the soil.

Chap. I.

One of the birds being slain by a hunter, Valmiki deplores the deed.

Chap. I.

He is struck by the melodious sound of his oiuii •ivords.

Brahma viszts the Hermit, and bids him telt what preoccupies him.

harmony, so did his grief for the desolate bird sing itself into measure ; swaying his thoughts to and fro, with a musical, dreamy movement, as the breeze blows forward and back the boughs of the sad Casserina.

The rhythm of his lamentation rang in his ears whilst he bathed in the limpid waters ; and even when he quitted the crystal lake, the enchanting measure still haunted him. Against his will he kept repeating it over and over, until, sorely puzzled and distressed, he fancied that some charm had bewitched him. Perceiving that his Disciple was regarding him with astonished eyes :

" Tell me, my son," he asked, very humbly, " is there not a strange melody in the words you hear me repeating over to myself?"

" I cannot say," answered his Disciple. For Bharadvaja, though an excellent young man, had not received the gift of Poesy.