nor do the authors of the hymns evince any sympathy with the desire to get rid of all action and personal existence, which became so remarkable a feature of the theology and philosophy of the Brahmans in later times. But there are many indirect references to the immortality of the soul and a future life, and these become more marked and decided towards the end of the Rig-veda. One of the hymns in the last Mandala is addressed to the Pitris or fathers, that is to say, the spirits of departed ancestors who have attained to a state of heavenly bliss, and are supposed to occupy three different stages of blessedness,— the highest inhabiting the upper sky, the middle the intermediate air, and the lowest the regions of the atmosphere near the earth. Reverence and adoration are always to be offered them, and they are presided over by the god Yama, the ruler of all the spirits of the dead, whether good or bad. The earlier legends represent this god as a kind of first man (his twin sister being Yami) and also as the first of men that died. Hence he is described as guiding the spirits of other men who die to the same world. In some passages, however, Death is said to be his messenger, he himself dwelling in celestial light, to which the departed are brought, and where they enjoy his society and that of the fathers. In the Veda he has nothing to do with judging or punishing the departed (as in the later mythology), but he has two terrific dogs, with four eyes, which guard the way to his abode. Here are a few thoughts about him from various hymns in the tenth Mandala of the Rig-veda :

To Yama, mighty king, be gifts and homage paid.
He was the first of men that died, the first to brave
Death's rapid rushing stream, the first to point the road
To heaven, and welcome others to that bright abode.
No power can rob us of the home thus won by thee.
O king, we come; the born must die, must tread the path

That thou hast trod-the path by which each race of men,
In long succession, and our fathers, too, have passed.
Soul of the dead! depart; fear not to take the road-
The ancient road—by which thy ancestors have gone ;
Ascend to meet the god-to meet thy happy fathers,
Who dwell in bliss with him. Fear not to pass the guards-
The four-eyed brindled dogs-that watch for the departed.
Return unto thy home, O soul! Thy sin and shame
Leave thou behind on earth; assume a shining form-
Thy ancient shape-refined and from all taint set free.

Let me now endeavour, by slightly amplified translations, to convey some idea of two of the most remarkable hymns in the Rig-veda. The first (Mandala X. 129), which may be compared with some parts of the 38th chap. of Job, attempts to describe the mystery of creation thus: In the beginning there was neither nought nor aught, Then there was neither sky nor atmosphere above. What then enshrouded all this teeming universe? In the receptacle of what was it contained? Was it enveloped in the gulf profound of water? Then was there neither death nor immortality,

Then was there neither day, nor night, nor light, nor darkness,
Only the Existent One breathed calmly, self-contained.
Nought else than him there was-nought else above, beyond.
Then first came darkness hid in darkness, gloom in gloom.

Next all was water, all a chaos indiscreet,

In which the One lay void, shrouded in nothingness.
Then turning inwards he by self-developed force
Of inner fervour and intense abstraction, grew.
And now in him Desire, the primal germ of mind,
Arose, which learned men, profoundly searching, say
Is the first subtle bond, connecting Entity

With Nullity. This ray that kindled dormant life,
Where was it then? before? or was it found above?
Were there parturient powers and latent qualities,
And fecund principles beneath, and active forces

That energized aloft? Who knows? Who can declare?
How and from what has sprung this Universe? the gods
Themselves are subsequent to its development.

Who, then, can penetrate the secret of its rise?

Whether 'twas framed or not, made or not made; he only
Who in the highest heaven sits, the omniscient lord,
Assuredly knows all, or haply knows he not.

The next example is from the first Mandala of the Rigveda (121). Like the preceding, it furnishes a good argument for those who maintain that the purer faith of the Hindus is properly monotheistic:

What god shall we adore with sacrifice ?1
Him let us praise, the golden child that rose
In the beginning, who was born the lord-
The one sole lord of all that is-who made
The earth, and formed the sky, who giveth life,
Who giveth strength, whose bidding gods revere,
Whose hiding-place is immortality,

Whose shadow, death; who by his might is king
Of all the breathing, sleeping, waking world—
Who governs men and beasts, whose majesty
These snowy hills, this ocean with its rivers
Declare; of whom these spreading regions form
The arms; by whom the firmament is strong,
Earth firmly planted, and the highest heavens.
Supported, and the clouds that fill the air
Distributed and measured out; to whom
Both earth and heaven, established by his will,
Look up with trembling mind; in whom revealed
The rising sun shines forth above the world.
Where'er let loose in space, the mighty waters
Have gone, depositing a fruitful seed

And generating fire, there he arose,

Who is the breath and life of all the gods,

Whose mighty glance looks round the vast expanse

Of watery vapour-source of energy,

Cause of the sacrifice-the only God

Above the gods. May he not injure us!

He the Creator of the earth-the righteous

Creator of the sky, Creator too

Of oceans bright, and far-extending waters.

1 In the text this question is repeated at the end of every verse. A literal translation will be found in Muir's Sanskrit Texts, vol. iv. p. 16.

Let me now give a few verses (not in regular order and not quite literally translated) from the celebrated Purushasūkta, one of the most recent of the hymns of the Rigveda (Mandala X. 90). It will serve to illustrate the gradual sliding of Hindu monotheism into pantheism, and the first foreshadowing of the institution of caste, which for so many centuries has held India in bondage:

The embodied spirit1 has a thousand heads,

A thousand eyes, a thousand feet, around
On every side enveloping the earth,

Yet filling space no larger than a span3.

He is himself this very universe,

He is whatever is, has been, and shall be.

He is the lord of immortality.

All creatures are one-fourth of him, three-fourths

Are that which is immortal in the sky.

From him, called Purusha, was born Virāj,

And from Viraj was Purusha produced 3

Whom gods and holy men made their oblation.
With Purusha as victim they performed

A sacrifice. When they divided him,

How did they cut him up? what was his mouth?

What were his arms? and what his thighs and feet?

1 According to the Upanishads and the Tattva-samāsa the all-pervading self-existent spirit is called Purusha, puri sayanāt, from dwelling in the body.

2 Dr. Muir translates (literally), 'He overpassed the earth by a space of ten fingers.' The Katha Upanishad (II. 4. 12) says that Purusha, the soul,' is of the measure of a thumb (angushṭha-mātraḥ).

3 This is tantamount to saying that Purusha and Virāj are in substance the same. Virāj, as a kind of secondary creator, is sometimes regarded as male, sometimes as female. Manu (I. 11) says that Purusha, 'the first male,' was called Brahmā, and was produced from the supreme self-existent Spirit. In I. 32 he says that Brahmā (see Kullūka's commentary), having divided his own substance, became half male, half female, and that from the female was produced Virāj, and that from Viraj was born Manu-the secondary progenitor and producer of all beings.

The Brahman was his mouth, the kingly soldier1
Was made his arms, the husbandman his thighs,
The servile Sudra issued from his feet.

I close my examples of the Mantras with slightly amplified versions of two hymns-one in praise of Time, personified as the source of all things, taken from the Atharva-veda; the other addressed to Night, from the Rig-veda.

The following is the hymn to Time (Atharva-veda XIX. 53). A few verses at the end are omitted, one or two lines transposed, and a few inserted from the next hymn on the same subject:

Time, like a brilliant steed with seven rays,
And with a thousand eyes, imperishable,
Full of fecundity, bears all things onward.

On him ascend the learned and the wise.

Time, like a seven-wheeled, seven-naved car, moves on.

His rolling wheels are all the worlds, his axle

Is immortality. He is the first of gods.
We see him like an overflowing jar;
We see him multiplied in various forms.
He draws forth and encompasses the worlds;
He is all future worlds; he is their father;
He is their son; there is no power like him.
The past and future issue out of Time,
All sacred knowledge and austerity.

From Time the earth and waters were produced;
From Time, the rising, setting, burning sun;

From Time, the wind; through Time the earth is vast;
Through Time the eye perceives; mind, breath, and name
In him are comprehended. All rejoice

When Time arrives-the monarch who has conquered

This world, the highest world, the holy worlds,

Yea, all the worlds-and ever marches on.

1 The second caste or Kshatriya is here called Rājanya. By 'husbandman' in the next line is of course meant the third or Vaisya caste.

2 Both literally translated into prose by Dr. Muir, Texts, vol. v. p. 408, vol. iv. p. 498.