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In times later than the Rig Veda, Vāyu interchanges with Indra as representative of the middle sphere; and in the Rig Veda all the hymns of the family books associate him with Indra (vii. 90-92; iv. 47-48). In the first book he is associated thus in the second hymn; while, ib. 134, he has the only remaining complete hymn, though fragments of songs occasionally are found. All of these hymns except the first two simply invite Vāyu to come with Indra to the sacrifice, It is Vāyu who with Indra obtains the first drink of soma (i. 134. 6). He is spoken of as the artificer's, Tvashtar's, son-in-law, but the allusion is unexplained (viii. 26. 22); he in turn begets the storm-gods (i. 134. 4).
With Vāyu is joined Indra, one of the popular gods. These divinities, which are partly of the middle and partly of the lower sphere, may be called the popular gods, yet were the title 'new gods' neither wholly amiss nor quite correct. For, though the popular deities in general, when compared with many for whom a greater antiquity may be claimed, such as the Sun, Varuna, Dyaus, etc., are of more recent growth in dignity, yet there remains a considerable number of divinities, the hymns in whose honor, dating from the latest period, seem to show that the power they celebrate had been but lately admitted into the category of those gods that deserved special worship. Consequently new gods would be a misleading term, as it should be applied to the plainer products of theological speculation and abstraction rather than to Indra and his peers, not to speak of those newest pantheistic gods, as yet unknown. The designation popular must be understood, then, to apply to the gods most frequently, most enthusiastically revered (for in a stricter sense the sun was also a popular god); and reference is had in using this word to the greater power and influence of these gods, which is indicated by the fact that the hymns to Agni and Indra precede all others in the family books, while the Soma-hymns are collected for the most part into one whole book by themselves.
But there is another factor that necessitates a division between the divinities of sun and heaven and the atmospheric and earthly gods which are honored so greatly; and this factor is explanatory of the popularity of these gods. In the case of the older divinities it is the spiritualization of a sole material appearance that is revered; in the case of the popular gods, the material phenomenon is reduced to a minimum, the spirituality behind the phenomenon is exalted, and that spirituality stands not in and for itself, but as a part of a union of spiritualities. Applying this test to the earlier gods the union will be found to be lacking. The sun's spiritual power is united with Indra's, but the sun is as much a physical phenomenon as a spirituality, and always remains so. On the other hand, the equation of Varunic power with Indraic never amalgamated the two; and these are the best instances that can be chosen of the older gods. For in the case of others it is self-evident. Dyaus and Dawn are but material phenomena, slightly spiritualized, but not joined with the spirit-power of others.
Many have been the vain attempts to go behind the returns of Vedic hymnology and reduce Indra, Agni, and Soma to terms of a purely naturalistic religion. It cannot be done. Indra is neither sun, lightning, nor storm; Agni is neither hearth-fire nor celestial fire; Soma is neither planet nor moon.
Each is the transient manifestation of a spirituality lying behind and extending beyond this manifestation. Here alone is the latch-key of the newer, more popular religion. Not merely because Indra was a 'warrior god,' but because Indra and Fire were one; because of the mystery, not because of the appearance, was he made great at the hands of the priests. It is true, as has been said above, that the idol of the warriors was magnified because he was such; but the true cause of the greatness ascribed to him in the hymns lay in the secret of his nature, as it was lauded by the priest, not in his form, as it was seen by the multitude. Neither came first, both worked together; but had it not been for the esoteric wisdom held by the priests in connection with his nature, Indra would have gone the way of other meteorological gods; whereas he became chiefest of the gods, and, as lord of strength, for a time came nearest to the supreme power.
INDRA.
Indra has been identified with 'storm,' with the 'sky,' with the 'year'; also with 'sun' and with 'fire' in general.[2] But if he be taken as he is found in the hymns, it will be noticed at once that he is too stormy to be the sun; too luminous to be the storm; too near to the phenomena of the monsoon to be the year or the sky; too rainy to be fire; too alien from every one thing to be any one thing. He is too celestial to be wholly atmospheric; too atmospheric to be celestial; too earthly to be either. A most tempting solution is that offered by Bergaigne, who sees in Indra sun or lightning. Yet does this explanation not explain all, and it is more satisfactory than others only because it is broader; while it is not yet broad enough. Indra, in Bergaigne's opinion, stands, however, nearer to fire than to sun.[3] But the savant does not rest content with his own explanation: "Indra est peut-etre, de tous les dieux vediques, celui qui resiste le plus longtemps a un genre d'analyse qui, applique a la plupart des autres, les resout plus ou moins vite en des personnifications des elements, soit des phenomenes naturels, soit du culte" (ibid. p. 167).
Dyaus' son, Indra, who rides upon the storm and hurls the lightnings with his hands; who 'crashes down from heaven' and 'destroys the strongholds' of heaven and earth; whose greatness 'fills heaven and earth'; whose 'steeds are of red and gold'; who 'speaks in thunder,' and 'is born of waters and cloud'; behind whom ride the storm-gods; with whom Agni (fire) is inseparably connected; who 'frees the waters of heaven from the demon,' and 'gives rain-blessings and wealth' to man—such a god, granted the necessity of a naturalistic interpretation, may well be thought to have been lightning itself originally, which the hymns now represent the god as carrying. But in identifying Indra with the sun there is more difficulty. In none of the early hymns is this suggested, and the texts on which Bergaigne relies besides being late are not always conclusive. "Indra clothes himself with the glory of the sun"; he "sees with the eye of the sun"—such texts prove little when one remembers that the sun is the eye of all the gods, and that to clothe ones' self with solar glory is far from being one with the sun. In one other, albeit a late verse, the expression 'Indra, a sun,' is used; and, relying on such texts, Bergaigne claims that Indra is the sun. But it is evident that this is but one of many passages where Indra by implication is compared to the sun; and comparisons do not indicate allotropy. So, in ii. II. 20, which Bergaigne gives as a parallel, the words say expressly "Indra [did so and so] like a sun."[4] To rest a building so important on a basis so frail is fortunately rare with Bergaigne. It happens here because he is arguing from the assumption that Indra primitively was a general luminary. Hence, instead of building up Indra from early texts, he claims a few late phrases as precious confirmation of his theory.[5] What was Indra may be seen by comparing a few citations such as might easily be amplified from every book in the Rig Veda.
According to the varying fancies of the poets, Indra is armed with stones, clubs, arrows, or the thunderbolt (made for him by the artificer, Tvashtar), of brass or of gold, with many edges and points. Upon a golden chariot he rides to battle, driving two or many red or yellow steeds; he is like the sun in brilliancy, and like the dawn in beauty; he is multiform, and cannot really be described; his divine name is secret; in appearance he is vigorous, huge; he is wise and true and kind; all treasures are his, and he is a wealth-holder, vast as four seas; neither his greatness nor his generosity can be comprehended; mightiest of gods is he, filling the universe; the heavens rest upon his head; earth cannot hold him; earth and heaven tremble at his breath; he is king of all; the mountains are to him as valleys; he goes forth a bull, raging, and rushes through the air, whirling up the dust; he breaks open the rain-containing clouds, and lets the rain pour down; as the Acvins restore the light, so he restores the rain; he is (like) fire born in three places; as the giver of rain which feeds, he creates the plants; he restores or begets Sun and Dawn (after the storm has passed);[6] he creates (in the same way) all things, even heaven and earth; he is associated with Vishnu and Pūshan (the sun-gods), with the Acvins, with the Maruts (storm-gods) as his especial followers, and with the artisan Ribhus. With Varuna he is an Aditya, but he is also associated with another group of gods, the Vasus (x. 66. 3), as Vasupati, or 'lord of the Vasus.' He goes with many forms (vi. 47. 18).[7]
The luminous character[8] of Indra, which has caused him to be identified with light-gods, can be understood only when one remembers that in India the rainy season is ushered in by such displays of lightning that the heavens are often illuminated in every direction at once; and not with a succession of flashes, but with contemporaneous ubiquitous sheets of light, so that it appears as if on all sides of the sky there was one lining of united dazzling flame. When it is said that Indra 'placed light in light,' one is not to understand, with Bergaigne, that Indra is identical with the sun, but that in day (light) Indra puts lightning (x. 54. 6; Bergaigne ii. p. 187).
Since Indra's lightning[9] is a form of fire, there is found in this union the first mystic dualism of two distinct gods as one. This comes out more in Agni-worship than in Indra-worship, and will be treated below. The snake or dragon killed by Indra is Vritra, the restrainer, who catches and keeps in the clouds the rain that is falling to earth. He often is called simply the snake, and as the Budhnya Snake, or snake of the cloud-depths, is possibly the Python (=Budh-nya).[10] There is here a touch of primitive belief in an old enemy of man—the serpent! But the Budhnya Snake has been developed in opposite ways, and has contradictory functions.[11]
Indra, however, is no more the lightning than he is the sun. One poet says that he is like the sun;[12] another, that he is like the lightning (viii. 93. 9), which he carries in his arms (viii. 12. 7); another, that he is like the light of dawn (x. 89. 12). So various are the activities, so many the phenomena, that with him first the seer is obliged to look back of all these phenomena and find in them one person; and thus he is the most anthropomorphized of the Vedic gods. He is born of heaven or born of clouds (iv. 18), but that his mother is Aditi is not certain. As the most powerful god Indra is again regarded as the All-god (viii. 98. 1-2). With this final supremacy, that distinction between battle-gods and gods sovereign, which Bergaigne insists upon—the sovereign gods belonging to une conception unitaire de l'ordre du monde (iii. p. 3; ii. p. 167)—fades away. As Varuna became gradually greatest, so did Indra in turn. But Varuna was a philosopher's god, not a warrior's; and Varuna was not double and mystical. So even the priest (Agni) leaves Varuna, and with the warrior takes more pleasure in his twin Indra; of him making an All-god, a greatest god. Varuna is passive; Indra is energetic; but Indra does not struggle for his lordship. Inspired by soma, he smites, triumphs, punishes. Victor already, he descends upon his enemies and with a blow destroys them. It is rarely that he feels the effect of battle; he never doubts its issue.
There is evidence that this supremacy was not gained without contradiction, and the novelty of the last extravagant Indra-worship may be deduced, perhaps, from such passages as viii. 96. 15; and 100. 3, where are expressed doubts in regard to the existence of a real Indra. How late is the worship of the popular Indra, and that it is not originality that causes his hymns to be placed early in each collection, may be judged from the fact that only of Indra (and Agni?) are there idols: viii. 1. 5; iv. 24. 10: "Who gives ten cows for my Indra? When he has slain his foe let (the purchaser) give him to me again."[13] Thus it happens that one rarely finds such poems to Indra as to Dawn and to other earlier deities, but almost always stereotyped descriptions of prowess, and mechanical invitations to come to the altar and reward the hymn-maker. There are few of Indra's many hymns that do not smack of soma and sacrifice. He is a warrior's god exploited by priests; as popularly conceived, a sensual giant, friend, brother, helper of man. One example of poetry, instead of ritualistic verse-making to Indra, has been translated in the introductory chapter. Another, which, if not very inspiring, is at least free from obvious soma-worship—which results in Indra being invoked chiefly to come and drink—is as follows (vi. 30):
Great hath he grown, Indra, for deeds heroic; Ageless is he alone, alone gives riches; Beyond the heaven and earth hath Indra stretched him, The half of him against both worlds together! So high and great I deem his godly nature; What he hath stablished there is none impairs it. Day after day a sun is he conspicuous, And, wisely strong, divides the wide dominions. To-day and now (thou makest) the work of rivers, In that, O Indra, thou hast hewn them pathway. The hills have bowed them down as were they comrades; By thee, O wisely strong, are spaces fastened. 'Tis true, like thee, O Indra, is no other, Nor god nor mortal is more venerable. Thou slew'st the dragon that the flood encompassed, Thou didst let out the waters to the ocean. Thou didst the waters free, the doors wide opening, Thou, Indra, brak'st the stronghold of the mountains, Becamest king of all that goes and moveth, Begetting sun and heaven and dawn together.
THE MARUTS.
These gods, the constant followers of Indra, from the present point of view are not of great importance, except as showing an unadulterated type of nature-gods, worshipped without much esoteric wisdom (although there is a certain amount of mystery in connection with their birth). There is something of the same pleasure in singing to them as is discernible in the hymns to Dawn. They are the real storm-gods, following Rudra, their father, and accompanying the great storm-bringer, Indra. Their mother is the variegated cow Pricni, the mother cloud. Their name means the shining, gleaming ones.
HYMN TO THE MARUTS (vii. 56. 1-10).
Who, sooth, are the gleaming related heroes, the glory of Rudra, on beauteous chargers? For of them the birthplace no man hath witnessed; they only know it, their mutual birthplace. With wings expanded they sweep each other,[14] and strive together, the wind-loud falcons. Wise he that knoweth this secret knowledge, that Pricni the great one to them was mother.[15] This folk the Maruts shall make heroic, victorious ever, increased in manhood; In speed the swiftest, in light the lightest, with grace united and fierce in power— Your power fierce is; your strength, enduring; and hence with the Maruts this folk is mighty. Your fury fair is, your hearts are wrothful, like maniacs wild is your band courageous. From us keep wholly the gleaming lightning; let not your anger come here to meet us. Your names of strong ones endeared invoke I, that these delighted may joy, O Maruts.
What little reflection or moral significance is in the Marut hymns is illustrated by i. 38. 1-9, thus translated by Mueller:
What then now? When will ye take us as a dear father takes his son by both hands, O ye gods, for whom the sacred grass has been trimmed?
Where now? On what errand of yours are you going, in heaven, not on earth? Where are your cows sporting? Where are your newest favors, O Maruts? Where are blessings? Where all delights? If you, sons of Pricni, were mortals and your praiser an immortal, then never should your praiser be unwelcome, like a deer in pasture grass, nor should he go on the path of Yama.[16] Let not one sin after another, difficult to be conquered, overcome us; may it depart, together with greed. Truly they are terrible and powerful; even to the desert the Rudriyas bring rain that is never dried up. The lightning lows like a cow, it follows as a mother follows after her young, when the shower has been let loose. Even by day the Maruts create darkness with the water-bearing cloud, when they drench the earth, etc.
The number of the Maruts was originally seven, afterwards raised to thrice seven, and then given variously,[17] sometimes as high as thrice sixty. They are the servants, the bulls of Dyaus, the glory of Rudra (or perhaps the 'boys of Rudra'), divine, bright as suns, blameless and pure. They cover themselves with shining adornment, chains of gold, gems, and turbans. On their heads are helmets of gold, and in their hands gleam arrows and daggers. Like heroes rushing to battle, they stream onward. They are fair as deer; their roar is like that of lions. The mountains bow before them, thinking themselves to be valleys, and the hills bow down. Good warriors and good steeds are their gifts. They smite, they kill, they rend the rocks, they strip the trees like caterpillars; they rise together, and, like spokes in a wheel, are united in strength. Their female companion is Rodasī (lightning, from the same root as rudra, the 'red'). They are like wild boars, and (like the sun) they have metallic jaws. On their chariots are speckled hides; like birds they spread their wings; they strive in flight with each other. Before them the earth sways like a ship. They dance upon their path. Upon their chests for beauty's sake they bind gold armor. From the heavenly udder they milk down rain. "Through whose wisdom, through whose design do they come?" cries the poet. They have no real adversary. The kings of the forest they tear asunder, and make tremble even the rocks. Their music is heard on every side.[18]
RUDRA.
The father of the Maruts, Rudra, is 'the ruddy one,' par excellence and so to him is ascribed paternity of the 'ruddy ones.' But while Indra has a plurality of hymns, Rudra has but few, and these it is not of special importance to cite. The features in each case are the same. The Maruts remain as gods whose function causes them to be invoked chiefly that they may spare from the fury of the tempest. This idea is in Rudra's case carried out further, and he is specially called on to avert (not only 'cow-slaying' and 'man-slaying' by lightning,[19] but also) disease, pestilence, etc. Hence is he preeminently, on the one hand, the kindly god who averts disease, and, on the other, of destruction in every form. From him Father Manu got wealth and health, and he is the fairest of beings, but, more, he is the strongest god (ii. 33. 3, 10). From such a prototype comes the later god of healing and woe—Rudra, who becomes Civa.[20]
RAIN-GODS.
There is one rather mechanical hymn directed to the Waters themselves as goddesses, where Indra is the god who gives them passage. But in the unique hymn to the Rivers it is Varuna who, as general god of water, is represented as their patron. In the first hymn the rain-water is meant.[21] A description in somewhat jovial vein of the joy produced by the rain after long drought forms the subject matter of another lyric (less an hymn than a poem), which serves to illustrate the position of the priests at the end of this Vedic collection. The frogs are jocosely compared to priests that have fulfilled their vow of silence; and their quacking is likened to the noise of students learning the Veda. Parjanya is the god that, in distinction from Indra as the first cause, actually pours down the rain-drops.
THE FROGS.[22]
As priests that have their vows fulfilled, Reposing for a year complete, The frogs have now begun to talk,— Parjanya has their voice aroused.
When down the heavenly waters come upon him, Who like a dry bag lay within the river, Then, like the cows' loud lowing (cows that calves have), The vocal sound of frogs comes all together.
When on the longing, thirsty ones it raineth, (The rainy season having come upon them), Then akkala![23] they cry; and one the other Greets with his speech, as sons address a father.
The one the other welcomes, and together They both rejoice at falling of the waters; The spotted frog hops when the rain has wet him, And with his yellow comrade joins his utterance.
When one of these the other's voice repeateth, Just as a student imitates his teacher, Then like united members with fair voices, They all together sing among the waters.
One like an ox doth bellow, goat-like one bleats; Spotted is one, and one of them is yellow; Alike in name, but in appearance different, In many ways the voice they, speaking, vary.
As priests about th' intoxicating[24] soma Talk as they stand before the well-filled vessel, So stand ye round about this day once yearly, On which, O frogs, the time of rain approaches.
(Like) priests who soma have, they raise their voices, And pray the prayer that once a year is uttered; (Like) heated priests who sweat at sacrifices, They all come out, concealed of them is no one.
The sacred order of the (year) twelve-membered, These heroes guard, and never do neglect it; When every year, the rainy season coming, The burning heat receiveth its dismission.[25]
In one hymn no less than four gods are especially invoked for rain—Agni, Brihaspati, Indra, and Parjanya. The two first are sacrificially potent; Brihaspati, especially, gives to the priest the song that has power to bring rain; he comes either 'as Mitra-Varuna or Pūshan,' and 'lets Parjanya rain'; while in the same breath Indra is exhorted to send a flood of rain,—rains which are here kept back by the gods,[26]—and Agni is immediately afterwards asked to perform the same favor, apparently as an analogue to the streams of oblation which the priest pours on the fire. Of these gods, the pluvius is Parjanya:
Parjanya loud extol in song, The fructifying son of heaven; May he provide us pasturage! He who the fruitful seed of plants, Of cows and mares and women forms, He is the god Parjanya. For him the melted butter pour In (Agni's) mouth,—a honeyed sweet,— And may he constant food bestow![27]
This god is the rain-cloud personified,[28] but he is scarcely to be distinguished, in other places, from Indra; although the latter, as the greater, newer god, is represented rather as causing the rain to flow, while Parjanya pours it down. Like Varuna, Parjanya also upsets a water-barrel, and wets the earth. He is identical with the Slavic Perkuna.
For natural expression, vividness, energy, and beauty, the following hymn is unsurpassed. As a god unjustly driven out of the pantheon, it is, perhaps, only just that he should be exhibited, in contrast to the tone of the sacrificial hymnlet above, in his true light. Occasionally he is paired with Wind; and in the curious tendency of the poets to dualize their divinities, the two become a compound, Parjanyavātā ("Parjanya and Vāta"). There is, also, vii. 101, one mystic hymn to Parjanya. The following, v. 83, breathes quite a different spirit:[29]
Greet him, the mighty one, with these laudations, Parjanya praise, and call him humbly hither; With roar and rattle pours the bull his waters, And lays his seed in all the plants, a foetus.
He smites the trees, and smites the evil demons, too; While every creature fears before his mighty blow, E'en he that hath not sinned, from this strong god retreats, When smites Parjanya, thundering, those that evil do. As when a charioteer with whip his horses strikes, So drives he to the fore his messengers of rain; Afar a lion's roar is raised abroad, whene'er Parjanya doth create the rain-containing cloud. Now forward rush the winds, now gleaming lightnings fall; Up spring the plants, and thick becomes the shining sky. For every living thing refreshment is begot, Whene'er Parjanya's seed makes quick the womb of earth.
Beneath whose course the earth hath bent and bowed her, Beneath whose course the (kine) behoofed bestir them, Beneath whose course the plants stand multifarious, He—thou, Parjanya—grant us great protection! Bestow Dyaus' rain upon us, O ye Maruts! Make thick the stream that comes from that strong stallion! With this thy thunder come thou onward, hither, Thy waters pouring, a spirit and our father.[30] Roar forth and thunder! Give the seed of increase! Drive with thy chariot full of water round us; The water-bag drag forward, loosed, turned downward; Let hills and valleys equal be before thee! Up with the mighty keg! then pour it under! Let all the loosened streams flow swiftly forward; Wet heaven and earth with this thy holy fluid;[31] And fair drink may it be for all our cattle!
When thou with rattle and with roar, Parjanya, thundering, sinners slayest, Then all before thee do rejoice, Whatever creatures live on earth.
Rain hast thou rained, and now do thou restrain it; The desert, too, hast thou made fit for travel; The plants hast thou begotten for enjoyment; And wisdom hast thou found for thy descendants.
The different meters may point to a collection of small hymns. It is to be observed that Parjanya is here the fathergod (of men); he is the Asura, the Spirit; and rain comes from the Shining Sky (Dyaus). How like Varuna!
The rain, to the poet, descends from the sky, and is liable to be caught by the demon, Vritra, whose rain-swollen belly Indra opens with a stroke, and lets fall the rain; or, in the older view just presented, Parjanya makes the cloud that gives the rain—a view united with the descent of rain from the sky (Dyaus). With Parjanya as an Aryan rain-god may be mentioned Trita, who, apparently, was a water-god, Āptya, in general; and some of whose functions Indra has taken. He appears to be the same with the Persian Thraetaona Āthwya; but in the Rig Veda he is interesting mainly as a dim survival of the past.[32] The washing out of sins, which appears to be the original conception of Varuna's sin-forgiving,[33] finds an analogue in the fact that sins are cast off upon the innocent waters and upon Trita—also a water-god, and once identified with Varuna (viii. 41. 6). But this notion is so unique and late (only in viii. 47) that Bloomfield is perhaps right in imputing it to the [later] moralizing age of the Brāhmanas, with which the third period of the Rig Veda is quite in touch.
* * * * *
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: Compare I. 134. 3.]
[Footnote 2: For the different views, see Perry, JAOS. xi. p. 119; Muir, OST. v. p. 77.]
[Footnote 3: La Religion Vedique, ii. pp. 159, 161, 166, 187.]
[Footnote 4: The chief texts are ii. 30. 1; iv. 26. 1; vii. 98. 6; viii. 93. 1, 4; x. 89. 2; x. 112. 3.]
[Footnote 5: Other citations given by Bergaigne in connection with this point are all of the simile class. Only as All-god is Indra the sun.]
[Footnote 6: i. 51. 4: "After slaying Vritra, thou did'st make the sun climb in the sky."]
[Footnote 7: Āditya, only vii. 85. 4; Vāl. 4. 7. For other references, see Perry (loc. cit.).]
[Footnote 8: Bergaigne, ii. 160. 187.]
[Footnote 9: Indra finds and begets Agni, iii. 31. 25.]
[Footnote 10: Unless the Python be, rather, the Demon of Putrefaction, as in Iranian belief.]
[Footnote 11: Demons of every sort oppose Indra; Vala, Vritra, the 'holding' snake (ahi=[Greek: echis]), Cushna ('drought'), etc.]
[Footnote 12: So he finds and directs the sun and causes it to shine, as explained above (viii. 3. 6; iii. 44. 4; i. 56. 4; iii. 30. 12). He is praised with Vishnu (vi.69) in one hymn, as distinct from him.]
[Footnote 13: Bollensen would see an allusion to idols in i. 145. 4-5 (to Agni), but this is very doubtful (ZDMG. xlvii. p. 586). Agni, however, is on a par with Indra, so that the exception would have no significance. See Kaegi, Rig Veda, note 79a.]
[Footnote 14: Or 'pluck with beaks,' as Mueller translates, SBE. xxxii. p. 373.]
[Footnote 15: "Bore them" (gave an udder). In v. 52. 16 Rudra is father and Pricni, mother. Compare viii. 94. 1: "The cow ... the mother of the Maruts, sends milk (rain)." In x. 78. 6 the Maruts are sons of Sindhu (Indus).]
[Footnote 16: I.e., die.]
[Footnote 17: The number is not twenty-seven, as Muir accidentally states, OST. v. p. 147.]
[Footnote 18: v. 58. 4, 5; I. 88. 1; 88. 5; v. 54. 11; viii. 7. 25; i. 166. 10; i. 39. 1; 64. 2-8; v. 54. 6; i. 85. 8; viii. 7. 34; v. 59. 2.]
[Footnote 19: He carries lightnings and medicines together in vii. 46. 3.]
[Footnote 20: Civa is later identified with Rudra. For the latter in RV. compare i. 43; 114, 1-5, 10; ii. 33. 2-13.]
[Footnote 21: vii. 47, and x. 75.]
[Footnote 22: vii. 103.]
[Footnote 23: Akhkhala is like Latin eccere shout of joy and wonder(Am.J. Phil. XIV. p. 11).]
[Footnote 24: Literally, 'that has stood over-night,' i.e., fermented.]
[Footnote 25: To this hymn is added, in imitation of the laudations of generous benefactors, which are sometimes suffixed to an older hymn, words ascribing gifts to the frogs. Bergaigne regards the frogs as meteorological phenomena! It is from this hymn as a starting-point proceed the latter-day arguments of Jacobi, who would prove the 'period of the Rig Veda' to have begun about 3500 B.C. One might as well date Homer by an appeal to the Batrachomyomachia.]
[Footnote 26: x. 98. 6.]
[Footnote 27: vii. 102.]
[Footnote 28: Compare Buehler, Orient and Occident, I. p. 222.]
[Footnote 29: This hymn is another of those that contradict the first assumption of the ritualists. From internal evidence it is not likely that it was made for baksheesh.]
[Footnote 30: [A]suras, pitā nas.]
[Footnote 31: Literally, 'with ghee'; the rain is like the ghee, or sacrificial oil (melted butter).]
[Footnote 32: Some suppose even Indra to be one with the Avestan Aṅdra, a demon, which is possible.]
[Footnote 33: Otherwise it is the 'bonds of sin' which are broken or loosed, as in the last verse of the first Varuna hymn, translated above. But the two views may be of equal antiquity (above, p. 69, note). On Trita compare JRAS. 1893, p. 419; PAOS. 1894 (Bloomfield).]
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CHAPTER V.
THE RIG VEDA (CONTINUED).—THE LOWER GODS.
AGNI.
Great are the heavenly gods, but greater is Indra, god of the atmosphere. Greatest are Agni and Soma, the gods of earth.
Agni is the altar-fire. Originally fire, Agni, in distinction from sun and lightning, is the fire of sacrifice; and as such is he great. One reads in v. 3. 1-2, that this Agni is Varuna, Indra; that in him are all the gods. This is, indeed, formally a late view, and can be paralleled only by a few passages of a comparatively recent period. Thus, in the late hymn i. 164. 46: "Indra, Mitra, Varuna, Agni, they say; he is the sun (the bird in the sky); that which is but one they call variously," etc. So x. 114. 5 and the late passage iii. 38. 7, have reference to various forms of Agni.
Indra had a twofold nature in producing the union of lightning and Agni; and this made him mysteriously great. But in Agni is found the first triality, which, philosophically, is interpreted as a trinity. The fire of the altar is one with the lightning, and, again, one with the sun. This is Agni's threefold birth; and all the holy character of three is exhausted in application where he is concerned. It is the highest mystery until the very end of the Vedic age. This Agni it is that is the real Agni of the Rig Veda—the new Agni; for there was probably an Agni cult (as simple fire) long before the soma cult. Indra and Agni are one, and both are called the slayers of the demons[1]. They are both united as an indissoluble pair (iii. 12, etc.). Agni, with, perhaps, the exception of Soma, is the most important god in the Rig Veda; and it is no chance that gives him the first place in each family hymn-book; for in him are found, only in more fortunate circumstances, exactly the same conditions as obtain in the case of Indra. He appealed to man as the best friend among divine beings; he was not far off, to be wondered at; if terrible, to be propitiated. He was near and kind to friends. And as he seemed to the vulgar so he appealed to the theosophy which permeates the spirit of the poets; for he is mysterious; a mediator between god and man (in carrying to heaven the offerings); a threefold unity, typical of earth, atmosphere, and heaven. From this point of view, as in the case of Indra, so in the case of Agni, only to a greater extent, it becomes impossible to interpret Agni as one element, one phenomenon. There is, when a distinction is made, an agni which is single, the altar-fire, separate from other fires; but it is seldom that Agni is not felt as the threefold one.
And now for the interpretation of the modern ritualists. The Hindu ritual had 'the three fires,' which every orthodox believer was taught to keep up. The later literature of the Hindus themselves very correctly took these three fires as types of the three forms of Agni known in the Rig Veda. But to the ritualists the historical precedence is inverted, and they would show that the whole Vedic mythological view of an Agni triad is the result of identifying Agni with the three fires of the ritual. From this crass method of interpretation it would result that all Vedic mythology was the child of the liturgy[2].
As earthly fire Agni is first ignis:[3] "Driven by the wind, he hastens through the forest with roaring tongues.... black is thy path, O bright immortal!" "He mows down, as no herd can do, the green fields; bright his tooth, and golden his beard." "He devours like a steer that one has tied up." This is common fire, divine, but not of the altar. The latter Agni is of every hymn. For instance, the first stanza of the Rig Veda: "Agni, the family priest, I worship; the divine priest of sacrifice; the oblation priest, who bestows riches," where he is invoked under the names of different priests. But Agni is even more than this; he is the fire (heat) that causes production and reproduction, visibly manifest in the sun. This dual Agni, it is to be noticed, is at times the only Agni recognized. The third form is then added, lightning, and therewith Agni is begotten of Indra, and is, therefore, one with Indra: "There is only one fire lighted in many places" (Vāl. 10. 2). As a poetical expression, Agni in the last form is the 'Son of Waters,' an epithet not without significance in philosophical speculation; for water, through all periods, was regarded as the material origin of the universe.
Agni is one with the sun, with lightning (and thunder), and descends into the plants.[4] To man he is house-priest and friend. It is he that has "grouped men in dwelling-places" (iii. 1. 17) like Prometheus, in whose dialectic name, Promantheus, lingers still the fire-creator, the twirling (math) sticks which make fire in the wood. He is man's guest and best friend (Mitra, iv. 1. 9; above).
An hymn or two entire will show what was Agni to the Vedic poet. In the following, the Rig Veda's first hymn, he is addressed, in the opening stanza, under the names of house-priest, the chief sacrificial priest, and the priest that pours oblations. In the second stanza he is extolled as the messenger who brings the gods to the sacrifice, himself rising up in sacrificial flames, and forming a link between earth and heaven. In a later stanza he is called the Messenger (Angiras =[Greek: aggelos]),—one of his ordinary titles:
To AGNI (i. 1).
I worship Agni; house-priest, he, And priest divine of sacrifice, Th' oblation priest, who giveth wealth.
Agni, by seers of old adored, To be adored by those to-day— May he the gods bring here to us.
Through Agni can one wealth acquire, Prosperity from day to day, And fame of heroes excellent.
O, Agni! whatsoe'er the rite That thou surround'st on every side, That sacrifice attains the gods.
May Agni, who oblation gives— The wisest, true, most famous priest— This god with (all) the gods approach I
Thou doest good to every man That serves thee, Agni; even this Is thy true virtue, Angiras.
To thee, O Agni, day by day, Do we with prayer at eve and dawn, Come, bringing lowly reverence;
To thee, the lord of sacrifice, And shining guardian of the rite,[5] In thine own dwelling magnified.
As if a father to his son, Be easy of access to us, And lead us onward to our weal.
This is mechanical enough to have been made for an established ritual, as doubtless it was. But it is significant that the ritualistic gods are such that to give their true character hymns of this sort must be cited. Such is not the case with the older gods of the pantheon. Ritualistic as it is, however, it is simple. Over against it may be set the following (vi. 8): "Now will I praise the strength of the variegated red bull (Agni), the feasts of the Knower-of-beings[6] (Agni); to Agni, the friend of all men, is poured out a new song, sweet to him as clear soma. As soon as he was born in highest heaven, Agni began to protect laws, for he is a guardian of law (or order). Great in strength, he, the friend of all men, measured out the space between heaven and earth, and in greatness touched the zenith; he, the marvellous friend, placed apart heaven and earth; with light removed darkness; separated the two worlds like skins. Friend of all men, he took all might to himself.... In the waters' lap the mighty ones (gods) took him, and people established him king. Mātaricvan, messenger of the all-shining one, bore him from afar, friend of all men. Age by age, O Agni, give to poets new glorious wealth for feasts. O ever-youthful king, as if with a ploughshare, rend the sinner; destroy him with thy flame, like a tree! But among our lords bring, O Agni, power unbent, endless strength of heroes; and may we, through thy assistance, conquer wealth an hundredfold, a thousandfold, O Agni, thou friend of all; with thy sure protection protect our royal lords, O helper, thou who hast three habitations; guard for us the host of them that have been generous, and let them live on, friend of all, now that thou art lauded."
Aryan, as Kuhn[7] has shown, is at least the conception if not the particular form of the legend alluded to in this hymn, of fire brought from the sky to earth, which Promethean act is attributed elsewhere to the fire-priest.[8] Agni is here Mitra, the friend, as sun-god, and as such takes all the celestials' activities on himself. Like Indra he also gives personal strength: "Fair is thy face, O Agni, to the mortal that desires strength;—they whom thou dost assist overcome their enemies all their lives" (vi. 16. 25, 27). Agni is drawn down to earth by means of the twirling-sticks, one the father, one the mother[9]. "The bountiful wood bore the fair variegated son of waters and plants;[10] the gods united in mind, and payed homage to the glorious mighty child when he was born" (iii. 1. 13). As the son of waters, Agni loves wood but retreats to water, and he is so identified with Indra that he 'thunders' and 'gives rain' (as lightning; ii. 6. 5; iii. 9. 2).
The deeper significance of Agni-worship is found not alone in the fact that he is the god in whom are the other gods, nor in that he is the sun alone, but that "I am Agni, immortality is in my mouth; threefold my light, eternal fire, my name the oblation (fire)," iii. 26. 7. He is felt as a mysterious trinity. As a sun he lights earth; and gives life, sustenance, children, and wealth (iii. 3. 7); as lightning he destroys, as fire he befriends; like Indra he gives victory (iii. 16. 1); like Varuna he releases the bonds of sin; he is Varuna's brother (v. 2. 7; vi. 3. 1; iv. 1. 2); his 'many names' are often alluded to (iii. 20. 3, and above). The ritualistic interpretation of the priest is that the sun is only a sacrificial fire above lighted by the gods as soon as the corresponding fire is lighted on earth by men (vi. 2. 3). He is all threefold; three his tongues, his births, his places; thrice led about the sacrifice given thrice a day (iii. 2. 9; 17. 1; 20. 2; iv, 15. 2; 1. 7; 12. 1). He is the upholder of the religious order, the guest of mortals, found by the gods in the heavenly waters; he is near and dear; but he also becomes dreadful to the foe (iii. 1. 3-6; 6. 5; vi. 7. 1; 8. 2; iii. 1. 23; 22. 5; vi. 3. 7; iii. 18. 1; iv. 4. 4; 1. 6).
It is easy to see that in such a conception of a triune god, who is fearful yet kind, whose real name is unknown, while his visible manifestations are in earth, air, and heaven, whose being contains all the gods, there is an idea destined to overthrow, as it surpasses, the simpler conceptions of the naturalism that precedes it. Agni as the one divine power of creation is in fact the origin of the human race: "From thee come singers and heroes" (vi. 7. 3). The less weight is, therefore, to be laid on Bergaigne's 'fire origin of man'; it is not as simple fire, but as universal creator that Agni creates man; it is not the 'fire-principle'[11] philosophically elicited from connection of fire and water, but as god-principle, all-creative, that Agni gets this praise.
Several hymns are dedicated to Indrāgni, Indra united with Agni; and the latter even is identified with Dyaus (iv. 1. 10), this obsolescent god reviving merely to be absorbed into Agni. As water purifies from dirt and sin (Varuna), so fire purifies (iv. 12. 4). It has been suggested on account of v. 12. 5: 'Those that were yours have spoken lies and left thee,' that there is a decrease in Agni worship. As this never really happened, and as the words are merely those of a penitent who has lied and seeks forgiveness at the hands of the god of truth, the suggestion is not very acceptable. Agni comprehends not only all naturalistic gods, but such later femininities as Reverence, Mercy, and other abstractions, including Boundlessness.
Of how great importance was the triune god Agni may be seen by comparing his three lights with the later sectarian trinity, where Vishnu, originally the sun, and (Rudra) Civa, the lightning, are the preserver and destroyer.
We fear the reader may have thought that we were developing rather a system of mythology than a history of religion. With the close of the Vedic period we shall have less to say from a mythological point of view, but we think that it will have become patent now for what purpose was intended the mythological basis of our study. Without this it would have been impossible to trace the gradual growth in the higher metaphysical interpretation of nature which goes hand in hand with the deeper religious sense. With this object we have proceeded from the simpler to the more complex divinities. We have now to take up a side of religion which lies more apart from speculation, but it is concerned very closely with man's religious instincts—the worship of Bacchic character, the reverence for and fear of the death-god, and the eschatological fancies of the poets, together with those first attempts at creating a new theosophy which close the period of the Rig Veda.
SOMA.
Inseparably connected with the worship of Indra and Agni is that of the 'moon-plant,' soma, the intoxicating personified drink to whose deification must be assigned a date earlier than that of the Vedas themselves. For the soma of the Hindus is etymologically identified with the haoma of the Persians (the [Greek: omomi] of Plutarch[12]), and the cultus at least was begun before the separation of the two nations, since in each the plant is regarded as a god. The inspiring effect of intoxication seemed to be due to the inherent divinity of the plant that produced it; the plant was, therefore, regarded as divine, and the preparation of the draught was looked upon as a sacred ceremony[13].
This offering of the juice of the soma-plant in India was performed thrice daily. It is said in the Rig Veda that soma grows upon the mountain Mūjavat, that its or his father is Parjanya, the rain-god, and that the waters are his sisters[14]. From this mountain, or from the sky, accounts differ, soma was brought by a hawk[15]. He is himself represented in other places as a bird; and as a divinity he shares in the praise given to Indra, "who helped Indra to slay Vritra," the demon that keeps back the rain. Indra, intoxicated by soma, does his great deeds, and indeed all the gods depend on soma for immortality. Divine, a weapon-bearing god, he often simply takes the place of Indra and other gods in Vedic eulogy. It is the god Soma himself who slays Vritra, Soma who overthrows cities, Soma who begets the gods, creates the sun, upholds the sky, prolongs life, sees all things, and is the one best friend of god and man, the divine drop (indu), the friend of Indra[16].
As a god he is associated not only with Indra, but also with Agni, Rudra, and Pūshan. A few passages in the later portion of the Rig Veda show that soma already was identified with the moon before the end of this period. After this the lunar yellow god regularly was regarded as the visible and divine Soma of heaven, represented on earth by the plant[17].
From the fact that Soma is the moon in later literature, and undoubtedly is recognized as such in a small number of the latest passages of the Rig Veda, the not unnatural inference has been drawn by some Vedic scholars that Soma, in hymns still earlier, means the moon; wherever, in fact, epithets hitherto supposed to refer to the plant may be looked upon as not incompatible with a description of the moon, there these epithets are to be referred directly to Soma as the moon-god, not to soma, the mere plant. Thus, with Rig Veda, X. 85 (a late hymn, which speaks of Soma as the moon "in the lap of the stars," and as "the days' banner") is to be compared VI. 39. 3, where it is said that the drop (soma) lights up the dark nights, and is the day's banner. Although this expression, at first view, would seem to refer to the moon alone, yet it may possibly be regarded as on a par with the extravagant praise given elsewhere to the soma-plant, and not be so significant of the moon as it appears to be. Thus, in another passage of the same book, the soma, in similar language, is said to "lay light in the sun," a phrase scarcely compatible with the moon's sphere of activity[18].
The decision in regard to this question of interpretation is not to be reached so easily as one might suppose, considering that a whole book, the ninth, of the Rig Veda is dedicated to Soma, and that in addition to this there are many hymns addressed to him in the other books. For in the greater number of passages which may be cited for and against this theory the objector may argue that the generally extravagant praise bestowed upon Soma through the Veda is in any one case merely particularized, and that it is not incongruous to say of the divine soma-plant, "he lights the dark nights," when one reads in general that he creates all things, including the gods. On the other hand, the advocate of the theory may reply that everything which does not apply to the moon-god Soma may be used metaphorically of him. Thus, where it is said, "Soma goes through the purifying sieve," by analogy with the drink of the plant soma passing through the sieve the poet may be supposed to imagine the moon passing through the sieve-like clouds; and even when this sieve is expressly called the 'sheep's-tail sieve' and 'wool-sieve,' this may still be, metaphorically, the cloud-sieve (as, without the analogy, one speaks to-day of woolly clouds and the 'mare's tail').
So it happens that, with an hundred hymns addressed to Soma, it remains still a matter of discussion whether the soma addressed be the plant or the moon. Alfred Hillebrandt, to whom is due the problem in its present form, declares that everywhere[19] in the Rig Veda Soma means the moon. No better hymn can be found to illustrate the difficulty under which labors the soma-exegete than IX. 15, from which Hillebrandt takes the fourth verse as conclusive evidence that by soma only the moon is meant. In that case, as will be seen from the 'pails,' it must be supposed that the poet leaps from Soma to soma without warning. Hillebrandt does not include the mention of the pails in his citation; but in this, as in other doubtful cases, it seems to us better to give a whole passage than to argue on one or two verses torn from their proper position:
HYMN TO SOMA (IX. 15).
QUERY: Is the hymn addressed to the plant as it is pressed out into the pails, or to the moon?
1. This one, by means of prayer (or intelligence), comes through the fine (sieve), the hero, with swift car, going to the meeting with Indra.
2. This one thinks much for the sublime assembly of gods, where sit immortals.
3. This one is despatched and led upon a shining path, when the active ones urge (him).[20]
4. This one, shaking his horns, sharpens (them), the bull of the herd, doing heroic deeds forcibly.
5. This one hastens, the strong steed, with bright golden beams, becoming of streams the lord.
6. This one, pressing surely through the knotty (sieve?) to good things, comes down into the vessels.
7. This one, fit to be prepared, the active ones prepare in the pails, as he creates great food.
8. Him, this one, who has good weapons, who is most intoxicating, ten fingers and seven (or many) prayers prepare.
Here, as in IX. 70, Hillebrandt assumes that the poet turns suddenly from the moon to the plant. Against this might be urged the use of the same pronoun throughout the hymn. It must be confessed that at first sight it is almost as difficult to have the plant, undoubtedly meant in verses 7 and 8, represented by the moon in the preceding verses, as it is not to see the moon in the expression 'shaking his horns.' This phrase occurs in another hymn, where Hillebrandt, with the same certainty as he does here, claims it for the moon, though the first part of this hymn as plainly refers to the plant, IX. 70. 1, 4. Here the plant is a steer roaring like the noise of the Maruts (5-6), and then (as above, after the term steer is applied to the plant), it is said that he 'sharpens his horns,' and is 'sightly,' and further, 'he sits down in the fair place ... on the wooly back,' etc., which bring one to still another hymn where are to be found like expressions, used, evidently, not of the moon, but of the plant, viz. to IX. 37, a hymn not cited by Hillebrandt:
This strong (virile) soma, pressed for drink, flows into the purifying vessel; this sightly (as above, where Hillebrandt says it is epithet of the moon), yellow, fiery one, is flowing into the purifying vessel; roaring into its own place (as above). This strong one, clear, shining (or purifying itself), runs through the shining places of the sky, slaying evil demons, through the sheep-hair-sieve. On the back of Trita this one shining (or purifying itself) made bright the sun with (his) sisters.[21] This one, slaying Vritra, strong, pressed out, finding good things (as above), uninjured, soma, went as if for booty. This god, sent forth by seers, runs into the vessels, the drop (indu) for Indra, quickly (or willingly).
So far as we can judge, after comparing these and the other passages that are cited by Hillebrandt as decisive for a lunar interpretation of soma, it seems quite as probable that the epithets and expressions used are employed of the plant metaphorically as that the poet leaps thus lightly from plant to moon. And there is a number of cases which plainly enough are indicative of the plant alone to make it improbable that Hillebrandt is correct in taking Soma as the moon 'everywhere in the Rig Veda.' It may be that the moon-cult is somewhat older than has been supposed, and that the language is consciously veiled in the ninth book to cover the worship of a deity as yet only partly acknowledged as such. But it is almost inconceivable that an hundred hymns should praise the moon; and all the native commentators, bred as they were in the belief of their day that soma and the moon were one, should not know that soma in the Rig Veda (as well as later) means the lunar deity. It seems, therefore, safer to abide by the belief that soma usually means what it was understood to mean, and what the general descriptions in the soma-hymns more or less clearly indicate, viz., the intoxicating plant, conceived of as itself divine, stimulating Indra, and, therefore, the causa movens of the demon's death, Indra being the causa efficiens. Even the allusions to soma being in the sky is not incompatible with this. For he is carried thence from the place of sacrifice. Thus too in 83. 1-2: "O lord of prayer[22], thy purifier (the sieve) is extended. Prevailing thou enterest its limbs on all sides. Raw (soma), that has not been cooked (with milk) does not enter into it. Only the cooked (soma), going through, enters it. The sieve of the hot drink is extended in the place of the sky. Its gleaming threads extend on all sides. This (soma's) swift (streams) preserve the man that purifies them, and wisely ascend to the back of the sky." In this, as in many hymns, the drink soma is clearly addressed; yet expressions are used which, if detached, easily might be thought to imply the moon (or the sun, as with Bergaigne)—a fact that should make one employ other expressions of the same sort with great circumspection.
Or, let one compare, with the preparation by the ten fingers, 85. 7: "Ten fingers rub clean (prepare) the steed in the vessels; uprise the songs of the priests. The intoxicating drops, as they purify themselves, meet the song of praise and enter Indra." Exactly the same images as are found above may be noted in IX. 87, where not the moon, but the plant, is conspicuously the subject of the hymn: "Run into the pail, purified by men go unto booty. They lead thee like a swift horse with reins to the sacrificial straw, preparing (or rubbing) thee. With good weapons shines the divine (shining) drop (Indu), slaying evil-doers, guarding the assembly; the father of the gods, the clever begetter, the support of the sky, the holder of earth.... This one, the soma (plant) on being pressed out, ran swiftly into the purifier like a stream let out, sharpening his two sharp horns like a buffalo; like a true hero hunting for cows; he is come from the highest press-stone," etc. It is the noise of soma dropping that is compared with 'roaring.' The strength given by (him) the drink, makes him appear as the 'virile one,' of which force is the activity, and the bull the type. Given, therefore, the image of the bull, the rest follows easily to elaborate the metaphor. If one add that soma is luminous (yellow), and that all luminous divinities are 'horned bulls[23],' then it will be unnecessary to see the crescent moon in soma. Moreover, if soma be the same with Brihaspati, as thinks Hillebrandt, why are there three horns in V. 43. 13? Again, that the expression 'sharpening his horns' does not refer necessarily to the moon may be concluded from x. 86. 15, where it is stated expressly that the drink is a sharp-horned steer: "Like a sharp-horned steer is thy brewed drink, O Indra," probably referring to the taste. The sun, Agni, and Indra are all, to the Vedic poet, 'sharp-horned steers[24],' and the soma plant, being luminous and strong (bull-like), gets the same epithet.
The identity is rather with Indra than with the moon, if one be content to give up brilliant theorizing, and simply follow the poets: "The one that purifies himself yoked the sun's swift steed over man that he might go through the atmosphere, and these ten steeds of the sun he yoked to go, saying Indra is the drop (Indu)." When had ever the moon the power to start the sun? What part in the pantheon is played by the moon when it is called by its natural name (not by the priestly name, soma)? Is mās or candramas (moon) a power of strength, a great god? The words scarcely occur, except in late hymns, and the moon, by his own folk-name, is hardly praised except in mechanical conjunction with the sun. The floods of which soma is lord are explained in IX. 86. 24-25: "The hawk (or eagle) brought thee from the sky, O drop (Indu[25]), ... seven milk-streams sing to the yellow one as he purifies himself with the wave in the sieve of sheep's wool. The active strong ones have sent forth the wise seer in the lap of the waters." If one wishes to clear his mind in respect of what the Hindu attributes to the divine drink (expressly drink, and not moon), let him read IX. 104, where he will find that "the twice powerful god-rejoicing intoxicating drink" finds goods, finds a path for his friends, puts away every harmful spirit and every devouring spirit, averts the false godless one and all oppression; and read also ix. 21. I-4: "These soma-drops for Indra flow rejoicing, maddening, light-(or heaven-) finding, averting attackers, finding desirable things for the presser, making life for the singer. Like waves the drops flow into one vessel, playing as they will. These soma-drops, let out like steeds (attached) to a car, as they purify themselves, attain all desirable things." According to IX. 97. 41^2 and ib. 37. 4 (and other like passages, too lightly explained, p. 387, by Hillebrandt), it is soma that "produced the light in the sun" and "makes the sun rise," statements incompatible with the (lunar) Soma's functions, but quite in accordance with the magic power which the poets attribute to the divine drink. Soma is 'king over treasure.' Soma is brought by the eagle that all may "see light" (IX. 48. 3-4). He traverses the sky, and guards order—but not necessarily is he here the moon, for soma, the drink, as a "galloping steed," "a brilliant steer," a "stream of pressed soma," "a dear sweet," "a helper of gods," is here poured forth; after him "flow great water-floods"; and he "purifies himself in the sieve, he the supporter, holder of the sky"; he "shines with the sun," "roars," and "looks like Mitra"; being here both "the intoxicating draught," and at the same time "the giver of kine, giver of men, giver of horses, giver of strength, the soul of sacrifice" (IX. 2).
Soma is even older than the Vedic Indra as slayer of Vritra and snakes. Several Indo-Iranian epithets survive (of soma and haoma, respectively), and among those of Iran is the title 'Vritra-slayer,' applied to haoma, the others being 'strong' and 'heaven-winning,' just as in the Veda[26]. All three of them are contained in one of the most lunar-like of the hymns to Soma, which, for this reason, and because it is one of the few to this deity that seem to be not entirely mechanical, is given here nearly in full, with the original shift of metre in the middle of the hymn (which may possibly indicate that two hymns have been united).
To SOMA (I. 91).
Thou, Soma, wisest art in understanding; Thou guidest (us) along the straightest pathway; 'Tis through thy guidance that our pious[27] fathers Among the gods got happiness, O Indu.
Thou, Soma, didst become in wisdom wisest; In skill[28] most skilful, thou, obtaining all things. A bull in virile strength, thou, and in greatness; In splendor wast thou splendid, man-beholder.
Thine, now, the laws of kingly Varuna[29]; Both high and deep the place of thee, O Soma. Thou brilliant art as Mitra, the beloved[30], Like Aryaman, deserving service, art thou.
Whate'er thy places be in earth or heaven, Whate'er in mountains, or in plants and waters, In all of these, well-minded, not injurious, King Soma, our oblations meeting, take thou.
Thou, Soma, art the real lord, Thou king and Vritra-slayer, too; Thou art the strength that gives success.
And, Soma, let it be thy will For us to live, nor let us die[31]; Thou lord of plants[32], who lovest praise.
Thou, Soma, bliss upon the old, And on the young and pious man Ability to live, bestowest.
Do thou, O Soma, on all sides Protect us, king, from him that sins, No harm touch friend of such as thou.
Whatever the enjoyments be Thou hast, to help thy worshipper, With these our benefactor be.
This sacrifice, this song, do thou, Well-pleased, accept; come unto us; Make for our weal, O Soma, thou.
In songs we, conversant with words, O Soma, thee do magnify; Be merciful and come to us.
* * *[33]
All saps unite in thee and all strong powers, All virile force that overcomes detraction; Filled full, for immortality, O Soma, Take to thyself the highest praise in heaven. The sacrifice shall all embrace—whatever Places thou hast, revered with poured oblations. Home-aider, Soma, furtherer with good heroes, Not hurting heroes, to our houses come thou. Soma the cow gives; Soma, the swift charger; Soma, the hero that can much accomplish (Useful at home, in feast, and in assembly His father's glory)—gives, to him that worships.
In war unharmed; in battle still a saviour; Winner of heaven and waters, town-defender, Born mid loud joy, and fair of home and glory, A conqueror, thou; in thee may we be happy. Thou hast, O Soma, every plant begotten; The waters, thou; and thou, the cows; and thou hast Woven the wide space 'twixt the earth and heaven; Thou hast with light put far away the darkness. With mind divine, O Soma, thou divine[34] one, A share of riches win for us, O hero; Let none restrain thee, thou art lord of valor; Show thyself foremost to both sides in battle[35].
Of more popular songs, Hillebrandt cites as sung to Soma (!) VIII. 69. 8-10:
Sing loud to him, sing loud to him; Priyamedhas, oh, sing to him, And sing to him the children, too; Extol him as a sure defence.... To Indra is the prayer up-raised.
The three daily soma-oblations are made chiefly to Indra and Vāyu; to Indra at mid-day; to the Ribhus, artisans of the gods, at evening; and to Agni in the morning.
Unmistakable references to Soma as the moon, as, for instance, in X. 85. 3: "No one eats of that soma which the priests know," seem rather to indicate that the identification of moon and Soma was something esoteric and new rather than the received belief of pre-Vedic times, as will Hillebrandt. This moon-soma is distinguished from the "soma-plant which they crush."
The floods of soma are likened to, or, rather, identified with, the rain-floods which the lightning frees, and, as it were, brings to earth with him. A whole series of myths depending on this natural phenomenon has been evolved, wherein the lightning-fire as an eagle brings down soma to man, that is, the heavenly drink. Since Agni is threefold and the Gāyatri metre is threefold, they interchange, and in the legends it is again the metre which brings the soma, or an archer, as is stated in one doubtful passage[36].
What stands out most clearly in soma-laudations is that the soma-hymns are not only quite mechanical, but that they presuppose a very complete and elaborate ritual, with the employment of a number of priests, of whom the hotars (one of the various sets of priests) alone number five in the early and seven in the late books; with a complicated service; with certain divinities honored at certain hours; and other paraphernalia of sacerdotal ceremony; while Indra, most honored with Soma, and Agni, most closely connected with the execution of sacrifice, not only receive the most hymns, but these hymns are, for the most part, palpably made for ritualistic purposes. It is this truth that the ritualists have seized upon and too sweepingly applied. For in every family book, besides this baksheesh verse, occur the older, purer hymns that have been retained after the worship for which they were composed had become changed into a trite making of phrases.
Hillebrandt has failed to show that the Iranian haoma is the moon, so that as a starting-point there still is plant and drink-worship, not moon-worship. At what precise time, therefore, the soma was referred to the moon is not so important. Since drink-worship stands at one end of the series, and moon-worship at the other, it is antecedently probable that here and there there may be a doubt as to which of the two was intended. Some of the examples cited by Hillebrandt may indeed be referable to the latter end of the series rather than to the former; but that the author, despite the learning and ingenuity of his work, has proved his point definitively, we are far from believing. It is just like the later Hindu speculation to think out a subtle connection between moon and soma-plant because each was yellow, and swelled, and went through a sieve (cloud), etc. But there is a further connecting link in that the divinity ascribed to the intoxicant led to a supposition that it was brought from the sky, the home of the gods; above all, of the luminous gods, which the yellow soma resembled. Such was the Hindu belief, and from this as a starting-point appears to have come the gradual identification of soma with the moon, now called Soma. For the moon, even under the name of Gandharva, is not the object of especial worship.
The question so ably discussed by Hillebrandt is, however, one of considerable importance from the point of view of the religious development. If soma from the beginning was the moon, then there is only one more god of nature to add to the pantheon. But if, as we believe in the light of the Avesta and Veda itself, soma like haoma, was originally the drink-plant (the root su press, from which comes soma, implies the plant), then two important facts follow. First, in the identification of yellow soma-plant with yellow moon in the latter stage of the Rig Veda (which coincides with the beginning of the Brahmanic period) there is a striking illustration of the gradual mystical elevation of religion at the hands of the priests, to whom it appeared indecent that mere drink should be exalted thus; and secondly, there is the significant fact that in the Indic and Iranian cult there was a direct worship of deified liquor, analogous to Dionysiac rites, a worship which is not unparalleled in other communities. Again, the surprising identity of worship in Avesta and Veda, and the fact that hymns to the earlier deities, Dawn, Parjanya, etc, are frequently devoid of any relation to the soma-cult not only show that Bergaigne's opinion that the whole Rig Veda is but a collection of hymns for soma-worship as handed down in different families must be modified; but also that, as we have explained apropos of Varuna, the Iranian cult must have branched off from the Vedic cult (whether, as Haug thought, on account of a religious schism or not); that the hymns to the less popular deities (as we have defined the word) make the first period of Vedic cult; and that the special liquor-cult, common to Iran and India, arose after the first period of Vedic worship, when, for example, Wind, Parjanya, and Varuna were at their height, and before the priests had exalted mystically Agni or Soma, and even Indra was as yet undeveloped.
* * * * *
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: viii. 38. 4; i. 108. 3; Bergaigne, ii. 293.]
[Footnote 2: On this point Bergaigne deprecates the application of the ritualistic method, and says in words that cannot be too emphasized: "Mais qui ne voit que de telles exptications n'expliquent rien, ou plutot que le detail du rituel ne peut trouver son explication que dans le mythe, bien loin de pouvoir servir lui-memes a expliquer le mythe?... Ni le ciel seul ni la terre seule, mais la terre et le ciel etroitement unis et presque confondus, voila le vrai domaine de la mythologie vedique, mythologie dont le rituel n'est que la reproduction" (i. p. 24).]
[Footnote 3: i. 58. 4; v. 7. 7; vi. 3. 4.]
[Footnote 4: iii. 14. 4; i. 71. 9; vi. 3. 7; 6. 2; iv. 1. 9.]
[Footnote 5: Or of time or order.]
[Footnote 6: Or 'Finder-of-beings.']
[Footnote 7: Herabkunft des Feuers und des Goettertrankes.]
[Footnote 8: RV. vi. 16. 13: "Thee, Agni, from out the sky Atharvan twirled," nir amanthata (cf. Promantheus). In x. 462 the Bhrigus, [Greek: phleghyai], discover fire.]
[Footnote 9: Compare v. 2. 1. Sometimes Agni is "born with the fingers," which twirl the sticks (iii. 26. 3; iv. 6. 8).]
[Footnote 10: Compare ii. 1: "born in flame from water, cloud, and plants ... thou art the creator."]
[Footnote 11: Bergaigne, i. p. 32 ff. The question of priestly names (loc. cit. pp. 47-50), should start with Bharata as [Greek: purphoros], a common title of Agni (ii. 7; vi. 16. 19-21). So Bhrigu is the 'shining' one; and Vasishtha is the 'most shining' (compare Vasus, not good but shining gods). The priests got their names from their god, like Jesuits. Compare Gritsamada in the Bhrigu family (book ii.); Vicvā-mitra, 'friend of all,' in the Bharata family (book iii.); Gautama Vāmadeva belonging to Angirasas (book iv.); Atri 'Eater,' epithet of Agni in RV. (book v.); Bharadvāja 'bearing food' (book vi.); Vasishtha (book vii.); and besides these Jamadagni and Kacyapa, black-toothed (Agni).']
[Footnote 12: De Isid. et Osir. 46. Compare Windischmann, Ueber den Somacultus der Arier (1846), and Muir, Original Sanskrit Texts, vol. ii. p. 471. Hillebrandt, Vedische Mythologie, i. p. 450, believes haoma to mean the moon, as does soma in some hymns of the Rig Veda (see below).]
[Footnote 13: Compare Kuhn, Herabkunft des Feuers und des Goettertrankes (1859); Bergaigne, La Religion Vedique, i. 148 ff.; Haug's Āitareya Brāhmana, Introduction, p. 62; Whitney in Jour. Am. Or. Soc. III. 299; Muir, Original Sanskrit Texts, vol. V. p. 258 ff., where other literature is cited.]
[Footnote 14: RV. X. 34. 1; IX. 98. 9; 82.3. The Vedic plant is unknown (not the sarcostemma viminale).]
[Footnote 15: RV. III. 43. 7; IV. 26.6 (other references in Muir, loc. cit. p. 262.) Perhaps rain as soma released by lightning as a hawk (Bloomfield).]
[Footnote 16: See the passages cited in Muir, loc. cit.]
[Footnote 17: A complete account of soma was given by the Vedic texts will be found in Hillebrandt's Vedische Mythologie, vol. I., where are described the different ways of fermenting the juice of the plant.]
[Footnote 18: Although so interpreted by Hillebrandt, loc. cit. p. 312. The passage is found in RV. VI. 44. 23.]
[Footnote 19: Loc. cit. pp. 340, 450.]
[Footnote 20: Compare IX. 79. 5, where the same verb is used of striking, urging out the soma-juice, rāsa.]
[Footnote 21: Compare IX. 32. 2, where "Trita's maidens urge on the golden steed with the press-stones, indu as a drink for Indra."]
[Footnote 22: On account of the position and content of this hymn, Hillebrandt regards it as addressed to Soma-Brihaspati.]
[Footnote 23: So the sun in I. 163. 9, II. 'Sharpening his horns' is used of fire in i. 140. 6; v. 2. 9.]
[Footnote 24: VI. 16. 39; vii. 19. I; VIII. 60. 13.]
[Footnote 25 3: IX. 63. 8-9; 5. 9. Soma is identified with lightning in ix. 47. 3.]
[Footnote 26: Hukhratus, verethrajao, hvaresa.]
[Footnote 27: Or: wise.]
[Footnote 28 3: Or: strength. Above, 'shared riches,' perhaps, for 'got happiness.']
[Footnote 29: Or: thine, indeed, are the laws of King Varuna.]
[Footnote 30: Or: brilliant and beloved as Mitra (Mitra means friend); Aryaman is translated 'bosom-friend'—both are Ādityas.]
[Footnote 31: Or: an thou willest for us to live we shall not die.]
[Footnote 32: Or: lordly plant, but not the moon.]
[Footnote 33: Some unessential verses in the above metre are here omitted.]
[Footnote 34: Or: shining.]
[Footnote 35: The same ideas are prominent in viii. 48, where Soma is invoked as 'soma that has been drunk,' i.e., the juice of the ('three days fermented') plant.]
[Footnote 36: In the fourth book, iv. 27. 3. On this myth, with its reasonable explanation as deduced from the ritual, see Bloomfield, JAOS. xvi. I ff. Compare also Muir and Hillebrandt, loc. cit.]
* * * * *
CHAPTER VI.
THE RIG VEDA (CONCLUDED).—YAMA AND OTHER GODS, VEDIC PANTHEISM, ESCHATOLOGY.
In the last chapter we have traced the character of two great gods of earth, the altar-fire and the personified kind of beer which was the Vedic poets' chief drink till the end of this period. With the discovery of surā, humor ex hordeo (oryzaque; Weber, Vājapeya, p. 19), and the difficulty of obtaining the original soma-plant (for the plant used later for soma, the asclepias acida, or sarcostemma viminale, does not grow in the Punjāb region, and cannot have been the original soma), the status of soma became changed. While surā became the drink of the people, soma, despite the fact that it was not now so agreeable a liquor, became reserved, from its old associations, as the priests' (gods') drink, a sacrosanct beverage, not for the vulgar, and not esteemed by the priest, except as it kept up the rite.
It has been shown that these gods, earthly in habitation, absorbed the powers of the older and physically higher divinities. The ideas that clustered about the latter were transferred to the former. The altar-fire, Agni, is at once earth-fire, lightning, and sun. The drink soma is identified with the heavenly drink that refreshes the earth, and from its color is taken at last to be the terrestrial form of its aqueous prototype, the moon, which is not only yellow, but even goes through cloud-meshes just as soma goes through the sieve, with all the other points of comparison that priestly ingenuity can devise.
Of different sort altogether from these gods is the ancient Indo-Iranian figure that now claims attention. The older religion had at least one object of devotion very difficult to reduce to terms of a nature-religion.
YAMA
Exactly as the Hindu had a half-divine ancestor, Manu, who by the later priests is regarded as of solar origin, while more probably he is only the abstract Adam (man), the progenitor of the race; so in Yama the Hindu saw the primitive "first of mortals." While, however, Mitra, Dyaus, and other older nature-gods, pass into a state of negative or almost forgotten activity, Yama, even in the later epic period, still remains a potent sovereign—the king of the dead.
In the Avesta Yima is the son of the 'wide-gleaming' Vivanghvant, the sun, and here it is the sun that first prepares the soma (haoma) for man. And so, too, in the Rig Veda it is Yama the son of Vivasvant (X. 58. 1; 60. 10) who first "extends the web" of (soma) sacrifice (VII. 33. 9, 12). The Vedic poet, not influenced by later methods of interpretation, saw in Yama neither sun nor moon, nor any other natural phenomenon, for thus he sings, differentiating Yama from them all: "I praise with a song Agni, Pūshan, Sun and Moon, Yama in heaven, Trita, Wind, Dawn, the Ray of Light, the Twin Horsemen" (X. 64. 3); and again: "Deserving of laudation are Heaven and Earth, the four-limbed Agni, Yama, Aditi," etc. (X. 92. 11).
Yama is regarded as a god, although in the Rig Veda he is called only 'king' (X. 14. 1, 11); but later he is expressly a god, and this is implied, as Ehni shows, even in the Rig Veda: 'a god found Agni' and 'Yama found Agni' (X. 51. 1 ff.). His primitive nature was that of the 'first mortal that died,' in the words of the Atharva Veda. It is true, indeed, that at a later period even gods are spoken of as originally 'mortal,'[1] but this is a conception alien from the early notions of the Veda, where 'mortal' signifies no more than 'man.' Yama was the first mortal, and he lives in the sky, in the home that "holds heroes," i.e., his abode is where dead heroes congregate (I. 35. 6; X. 64. 3)[2]. The fathers that died of old are cared for by him as he sits drinking with the gods beneath a fair tree (X. 135. 1-7). The fire that devours the corpse is invoked to depart thither (X. 16. 9). This place is not very definitely located, but since, according to one prevalent view, the saints guard the sun, and since Yama's abode in the sky is comparable with the sun in one or two passages, it is probable that the general idea was that the departed entered the sun and there Yama received him (I. 105. 9, 'my home is there where are the sun's rays'; X. 154. 4-5, 'the dead shall go, O Yama, to the fathers, the seers that guard the sun'). 'Yama's abode' is the same with 'sky' (X. 123. 6); and when it is said, 'may the fathers hold up the pillar (in the grave), and may Yama build a seat for thee there' (X. 18. 13), this refers, not to the grave, but to heaven. And it is said that 'Yama's seat is what is called the gods' home' (X. 135. 7)[3]. But Yama does not remain in the sky. He comes, as do other Powers, to the sacrifice, and is invited to seat himself 'with Angirasas and the fathers' at the feast, where he rejoices with them (X. 14. 3-4; 15. 8). And either because Agni devours corpses for Yama, or because of Agni's part in the sacrifice which Yama so joyfully attends, therefore Agni is especially mentioned as Yama's friend (X. 21. 5), or even his priest (ib. 52. 3). Yama stands in his relation to the dead so near to death that 'to go on Yama's path' is to go on the path of death; and battle is called 'Yama's strife.' It is even possible that in one passage Yama is directly identified with death (X. 165. 4, 'to Yama be reverence, to death'; I. 38. 5; ib. 116. 2)[4]. There is always a close connection between Varuna and Yama, and perhaps it is owing to this that parallel to 'Varuna's fetters' is found also 'Yama's fetter,' i.e., death (x. 97. 16).
As Yama was the first to die, so was he the first to teach man the road to immortality, which lies through sacrifice, whereby man attains to heaven and to immortality. Hence the poet says, 'we revere the immortality born of Yama' (i. 83. 5). This, too, is the meaning of the mystic verse which speaks of the sun as the heavenly courser 'given by Yama,' for, in giving the way to immortality, Yama gives also the sun-abode to them that become immortal. In the same hymn the sun is identified with Yama as he is with Trita (i. 163. 3). This particular identification is due, however, rather to the developed pantheistic idea which obtains in the later hymns. A parallel is found in the next hymn: "They speak of Indra, Mitra, Varuna, Agni ... that which is one, the priests speak of in many ways, and call him Agni, Yama, Fire" (or Wind, i. 164. 46).
Despite the fact that one Vedic poet speaks of Yama's name as 'easy to understand' (x. 12. 6), no little ingenuity has been spent on it, as well as on the primitive conception underlying his personality. Etymologically, his name means Twin, and this is probably the real meaning, for his twin sister Yami is also a Vedic personage. The later age, regarding Yama as a restrainer and punisher of the wicked, derived the name from yam the restrainer or punisher, but such an idea is quite out of place in the province of Vedic thought. The Iranian Yima also has a sister of like name, although she does not appear till late in the literature.
That Yama's father is the sun, Vivasvant (Savitar, 'the artificer,' Tvashtar, x. 10. 4-5),[5] is clearly enough stated in the Rik; and that he was the first mortal, in the Atharvan. Men come from Yama, and Yama comes from the sun as 'creator,' just as men elsewhere come from Adam and Adam comes from the Creator. But instead of an Hebraic Adam and Eve there are in India a Yama and Yamī, brother and sister (wife), who, in the one hymn in which the latter is introduced (loc. cit.), indulge in a moral conversation on the propriety of wedlock between brother and sister. This hymn is evidently a protest against a union that was unobjectionable to an older generation. In the Yajur Veda Yami is wife and sister both. But sometimes, in the varying fancies of the Vedic poets, the artificer Tvashtar is differentiated from Vivasvant, the sun; as he is in another passage, where Tvashtar gives to Vivasvant his daughter, and she is the mother of Yama[6].
That men are the children of Yama is seen in X. 13. 4, where it is said, 'Yama averted death for the gods; he did not avert death for (his) posterity.' In the Brahmanic tradition men derive from the sun (Tāitt. S. VI. 5. 6. 2[7]) So, in the Iranian belief, Yima is looked upon, according to some scholars, as the first man. The funeral hymn to Yama is as follows:
Him who once went over the great mountains[8] and spied out a path for many, the son of Vivasvant, who collects men, King Yama, revere ye with oblations. Yama the first found us a way ... There where our old fathers are departed.... Yama is magnified with the Angirasas.... Sit here, O Yama, with the Angirasas and with the fathers.... Rejoice, O king, in this oblation. Come, O Yama, with the venerable Angirasas. I call thy father, Vivasvant, sit down at this sacrifice.
And then, turning to the departed soul:
Go forth, go forth on the old paths where are gone our old fathers; thou shalt see both joyous kings, Yama and God Varuna. Unite with the fathers, with Yama, with the satisfaction of desires, in highest heaven.... Yama will give a resting place to this spirit. Run past, on a good path, the two dogs of Saramā, the four-eyed, spotted ones; go unto the fathers who rejoice with Yama.
Several things are here noteworthy. In the first place, the Atharva Veda reads, "who first of mortals died[9]," and this is the meaning of the Rig Veda version, although, as was said above, the mere fact that Varuna is called a god and Yama a king proves nothing[10]. But it is clearly implied here that he who crossed the mountains and 'collected men,' as does Yima in the Iranian legend, is an ancient king, as it is also implied that he led the way to heaven. The dogs of Yama are described in such a way as to remind one of the dogs that guard the path the dead have to pass in the Iranian legend, and of Kerberus, with whose very name the adjective 'spotted' has been compared[11]. The dogs are elsewhere described as white and brown and as barking (VII. 55. 2), and in further verses of the hymn just quoted (X. 14) they are called "thy guardian dogs, O Yama, the four-eyed ones who guard the path, who look on men ... broad-nosed, dark messengers of Yama, who run among the people."
These dogs are due to the same fantasy that creates a Kerberus, the Iranian dogs[12], or other guardians of the road that leads to heaven. The description is too minute to make it probable that the Vedic poet understood them to be 'sun and moon,' as the later Brahmanical ingenuity explains them, and as they have been explained by modern scholarship. It is not possible that the poet, had he had in mind any connection between the dogs and the sun and moon (or 'night and day'), would have described them as 'barking' or as 'broad-nosed and dark'; and all interpretation of Yama's dogs must rest on the interpretation of Yama himself[13].
Yama is not mentioned elsewhere[14] in the Rig Veda, except in the statement that 'metres rest on Yama,' and in the closing verses of the burial hymn: "For Yama press the soma, for Yama pour oblation; the sacrifice goes to Yama; he shall extend for us a long life among the gods," where the pun on Yama (yamad a), in the sense of 'stretch out,' shows that as yet no thought of 'restrainer' was in the poet's mind, although the sense of 'twin' is lost from the name.
In recent years Hillebrandt argues that because the Manes are connected with Soma (as the moon), and because Yama was the first to die, therefore Yama was the moon. Ehni, on the other hand, together with Bergaigne and some other scholars, takes Yama to be the sun. Mueller calls him the 'setting-sun[15].' The argument from the Manes applies better to the sun than to the moon, but it is not conclusive. The Hindus in the Vedic age, as later, thought of the Manes living in stars, moon, sun, and air; and, if they were not good Manes but dead sinners, in the outer edge of the universe or under ground. In short, they are located in every conceivable place[17].
The Yama, 'who collects people,' has been rightly compared with the Yima, who 'made a gathering of the people,' but it is doubtful whether one should see in this an Aryan trait; for [Greek: Aidaes Agaesilaos] is not early and popular, but late (Aeschylean), and the expression may easily have arisen independently in the mind of the Greek poet. From a comparative point of view, in the reconstruction of Yama there is no conclusive evidence which will permit one to identify his original character either with sun or moon. Much rather he appears to be as he is in the Rig Veda, a primitive king, not historically so, but poetically, the first man, fathered of the sun, to whom he returns, and in whose abode he collects his offspring after their inevitable death on earth. In fact, in Yama there is the ideal side of ancestor-worship. He is a poetic image, the first of all fathers, and hence their type and king. Yama's name is unknown outside of the Indo-Iranian circle, and though Ehni seeks to find traces of him in Greece and elsewhere,[18] this scholar's identifications fail, because he fails to note that similar ideas in myths are no proof of their common origin.
It has been suggested that in the paradise of Yama over the mountains there is a companion-piece to the hyperboreans, whose felicity is described by Pindar. The nations that came from the north still kept in legend a recollection of the land from whence they came. This suggestion cannot, of course, be proved, but it is the most probable explanation yet given of the first paradise to which the dead revert. In the late Vedic period, when the souls of the dead were not supposed to linger on earth with such pleasure as in the sky, Yama's abode is raised to heaven. Later still, when to the Hindu the south was the land of death, Yama's hall of judgment is again brought down to earth and transferred to the 'southern district.'
The careful investigation of Scherman[19] leads essentially to the same conception of Yama as that we have advocated. Scherman believes that Yama was first a human figure, and was then elevated to, if not identified with, the sun. Scherman's only error is in disputing the generally-received opinion, one that is on the whole correct, that Yama in the early period is a kindly sovereign, and in later times becomes the dread king of horrible hells. Despite some testimony to the contrary, part of which is late interpolation in the epic, this is the antithesis which exists in the works of the respective periods.
The most important gods of the era of the Rig Veda we now have reviewed. But before passing on to the next period it should be noticed that no small number of beings remains who are of the air, devilish, or of the earth, earthy. Like the demons that injure man by restraining the rain in the clouds, so there are bhūts, ghosts, spooks, and other lower powers, some malevolent, some good-natured, who inhabit earth; whence demonology. There is, furthermore, a certain chrematheism, as we have elsewhere[20] ventured to call it, which pervades the Rig Veda, the worship of more or less personified things, differing from pantheism in this,[21] that whereas pantheism assumes a like divinity in all things, this kind of theism assumes that everything (or anything) has a separate divinity, usually that which is useful to the worshipper, as, the plough, the furrow, etc. In later hymns these objects are generally of sacrificial nature, and the stones with which soma is pressed are divine like the plant. Yet often there is no sacrificial observance to cause this veneration. Hymns are addressed to weapons, to the war-car, as to divine beings. Sorcery and incantation is not looked upon favorably, but nevertheless it is found. |
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