It sent forth

explains: This universe, before it was developed in the present form, was the existent one, Brahma, itself.' This cannot be. If 'idam,' this, i. e. the visible world, were the subject, how could the Upanishad go on and say, tad aikshata bahu syâm pragâyeyeti tat tego 'srigata, 'that thought, may I be many, may I grow forth. fire.' This can be said of the Sat only, that is, the Brahman1. Sat, therefore, is the subject, not idam, for a Vedântist may well say that Brahman is the world, or sent forth the world, but not that the world, which is a mere illusion, was, in the beginning, Brahman.

This becomes clearer still in another passage, Maitr. Up. VI, 17, where we read: Brahma ha vâ idam agra âsîd eko 'nantah, 'In the beginning Brahman was all this. He was one, and infinite.' Here the transition from the neuter to the masculine gender shows that Brahman only can be the subject, both in the first and in the second sentence.

In English it may seem to make little difference whether we say, 'Brahman was this,' or 'this was Brahman.' In Sanskrit too we find, Brahma khalv idam vâva saryam, 'Brahman indeed is all this' (Maitr. Up. IV, 6), and Sarvam khalv idam Brahma, 'all this is Brahman indeed' (Khând. Up. III, 14, 1). But the logical meaning is always that Brahman was all this, i. e. all that we see now, Brahman being the subject, idam the predicate. Brahman becomes idam, not idam Brahman.

Thus the Pankadasî, I, 18, says:

Ekâdasendriyair yuktyâ sâstrenâpy avagamyate

Yâvat kimkid bhaved etad idamsabdoditam gagat, which Mr. A. Venis (Pandit, V, p. 667) translates: 'Whatever may be apprehended through the eleven organs, by argument and revelation, i. e. the world of phenomena, is expressed by the word idam, this.' The Pañkadasî then goes on:

Idam sarvam purâ srishter ekam evâdvitîyakam
Sad evâsîn nâmarûpe nâstâm ity Âruner vakah.

This Mr. Venis translates: 'Previous to creation, all this

'Sankara says (p. 398, 1. 5): ekam evâdvitîyam paramârthata idam buddhikâle 'pi tat sad aikshata.

was the existent (sat), one only without a second: name and form were not :-this is the declaration of the son of Aruna.'

This is no doubt a translation grammatically correct, but from the philosophical standpoint of the Vedânta, what is really meant is that, before the srishti (which is not creation, but the sending forth of the world, and the sending forth of it, not as something real, but as a mere illusion), the Real alone, i. e. the Brahman, was, instead of this, i. e. instead of this illusory world. The illusion was not, but the Real, i.e. Brahman, was. What became, or what seemed to change, was Brahman, and therefore the only possible subject, logically, is Brahman, everything else being a predicate, and a phenomenal predicate only.

If I were arguing with a European, not with an Indian scholar, I should venture to go even a step further, and try to prove that the idam, in this and similar sentences, does not mean this, i. e. this world, but that originally it was intended as an adverb, meaning now, or here. This use of idam, unsuspected by native scholars, is very frequent in Vedic literature, and instances may be seen in Boehtlingk's Dictionary. In that case the translation would be: The real (Tò ov), O friend, was here in the beginning.' This meaning of idam, however, would apply only to the earliest utterances of ancient Brahmavâdins, while in later times idam was used and understood in the sense of all that is seen, the visible universe, just as iyam by itself is used in the sense of the earth.

However, difficulties of this kind may be overcome, if once we have arrived at a clear conception of the general drift of the Upanishads. The real difficulties are of a very different character. They consist in the extraordinary number of passages which seem to us utterly meaningless and irrational, or, at all events, so far-fetched that we can hardly believe that the same authors who can express the deepest thoughts on religion and philosophy with clearness, nay, with a kind of poetical eloquence, could have uttered in the same breath such utter rubbish. Some of the sacrificial technicalities, and their philosophical interpretations with which the Upanishads abound, may perhaps in time assume a clearer meaning, when we shall have more fully mastered

the intricacies of the Vedic ceremonial. But there will always remain in the Upanishads a vast amount of what we can only call meaningless jargon, and for the presence of which in these ancient mines of thought I, for my own part, feel quite unable to account. 'Yes,' a friend of mine wrote to me, after reading some of the Sacred Books of the East, 'you are right, how tremendously ahead of other sacred books is the Bible. The difference strikes one as almost unfairly great.' So it does, no doubt. But some of the most honest believers and admirers of the Bible have expressed a similar disappointment, because they had formed their ideas of what a Sacred Book ought to be, theoretically, not historically. The Rev. J. M. Wilson, in his excellent Lectures on the Theory of Inspiration, p. 32, writes: 'The Bible is so unlike what you would expect; it does not consist of golden sayings and rules of life; give explanations of the philosophical and social problems of the past, the present, and the future; contain teachings immeasurably unlike those of any other book; but it contains history, ritual, legislation, poetry, dialogue, prophecy, memoirs, and letters; it contains much that is foreign to your idea of what a revelation ought to be. But this is not all. There is not only much that is foreign, but much that is opposed, to your preconceptions. The Jews tolerated slavery, polygamy, and other customs and cruelties of imperfect civilisation. There are the vindictive psalms, too, with their bitter hatred against enemies,-psalms which we chant in our churches. How can we do so? There are stories of immorality, of treachery, of crime. How can we read them?' Still the Bible has been and is a truly sacred, because a truly historical book, for there is nothing more sacred in this world than the history of man, in his search after his highest ideals. All ancient books which have once been called sacred by man, will have their lasting place in the history of mankind, and those who possess the courage, the perseverance, and the self-denial of the true miner, and of the true scholar, will find even in the darkest and dustiest shafts what they are seeking for,-real nuggets of thought, and precious jewels of faith and hope.

I.

THE KATHA-UPANISHAD.

THE Katha-upanishad is probably more widely known than any other Upanishad. It formed part of the Persian translation, was rendered into English by Râmmohun Roy, and has since been frequently quoted by English, French, and German writers as one of the most perfect specimens of the mystic philosophy and poetry of the ancient Hindus.

It was in the year 1845 that I first copied at Berlin the text of this Upanishad, the commentary of Sankara (MS. 127 Chambers1), and the gloss of Gopâlayogin (MS. 224 Chambers). The text and commentary of Sankara and the gloss of Anandagiri have since been edited by Dr. Roer in the Bibliotheca Indica, with translation and notes. There are other translations, more or less perfect, by Râmmohun Roy, Windischmann, Poley, Weber, Muir, Regnaud, Gough, and others. But there still remained many difficult and obscure portions, and I hope that in some at least of the passages where I differ from my predecessors, not excepting Sankara, I may have succeeded in rendering the original meaning of the author more intelligible than it has hitherto been.

The text of the Katha-upanishad is in some MSS. ascribed to the Yagur-veda. In the Chambers MS. of the commentary also it is said to belong to that Veda 2, and in the Muktikopanishad it stands first among the Upanishads of the Black Yagur-veda. According to Colebrooke (Miscellaneous Essays, I, 96, note) it is referred to the Sâma-veda also. Generally, however, it is counted as one of the Atharvana Upanishads.

The reason why it is ascribed to the Yagur-veda, is probably because the legend of Nakiketas occurs in the Brahmana of the Taittirîya Yagur-veda. Here we read (III, 1, 8):

Vâgasravasa, wishing for rewards, sacrificed all his

MS. 133 is a mere copy of MS. 127. 2 Yagurvede Kathavallîbhâshyam.

wealth. He had a son, called Nakiketas. While he was still a boy, faith entered into him at the time when the cows that were to be given (by his father) as presents to the priests, were brought in. He said: 'Father, to whom wilt thou give me?' He said so a second and third time. The father turned round and said to him: To Death, I give thee.'

Then a voice said to the young Gautama, as he stood up: He (thy father) said, Go away to the house of Death, I give thee to Death.' Go therefore to Death when he is not at home, and dwell in his house for three nights without eating. If he should ask thee, 'Boy, how many nights hast thou been here?' say, 'Three.' When he asks thee, 'What didst thou eat the first night?' say, 'Thy offspring.' 'What didst thou eat the second night?' say, 'Thy cattle.' 'What didst thou eat the third night?' say, 'Thy good works.'

He went to Death, while he was away from home, and he dwelt in his house for three nights without eating. When Death returned, he asked: 'Boy, how many nights hast thou been here?' He answered: Three.' What didst thou eat the first night?' 'Thy offspring.' 'What didst thou eat the second night?' Thy cattle.' 'What didst thou eat the third night?' Thy good works.'

Then he said: 'My respect to thee, O venerable sir! Choose a boon.'

May I return living to my father,' he said.

'Choose a second boon.'

'Tell me how my good works may never perish.'

Then he explained to him this Nâkiketa fire (sacrifice), and hence his good works do not perish.

'Choose a third boon.'

'Tell me the conquest of death again.'

Then he explained to him this (chief) Nâkiketa fire (sacrifice), and hence he conquered death again1.

This story, which in the Brâhmana is told in order to explain the name of a certain sacrificial ceremony called

1

The commentator explains punar-mrityu as the death that follows after the present inevitable death.