It might be maintained that the symptoms of true affection--altruistic
devotion to the verge of self-sacrifice--are revealed, at any rate, in
the _conjugal_ love of Savitri and of Damayanti. Savitri follows the
god of death as he carries away her husband's spirit, and by her
devotion and entreaties persuades Yama to restore him to life; while
Damayanti (whose story we did not finish) follows her husband, after
he has gambled away all his kingdom, into the forest to suffer with
him. One night, while she sleeps, he steals half of her only garment
and deserts her. Left alone in the terrible forest with tigers and
snakes, she sobs aloud and repeatedly faints away from fear. "Yet I do
not weep for myself," she exclaims; "my only thought is, how will you
fare, my royal master, being left thus all alone?" She is seized by a
huge snake, which coils its body around her; yet "even in this
situation she thinks not so much of herself as she bewails the fate of
the king." A hunter saves her and proceeds to make improper advances,
but she, faithful to her lord, curses the hunter and he falls dead
before her. Then she resumes her solitary roaming in the gloomy
forest, "_distressed by grief for her husband's fate_," unmindful of
his cruelty, or of her own sad plight.
It is needless to continue the tale; the reader cannot be so obtuse as
not to notice the _moral_ of it. The stories of Savitri and of
Damayanti, far from exemplifying Hindoo conjugal devotion, simply
afford fresh proof of the hoggish selfishness of the male Hindoo. They
are intended to be _object-lessons_ to wives, teaching them--like the
laws of Manu and the custom of widow burning--that they do not exist
for their own sakes, but for their husbands. Reading the stories in
the light of this remark, we cannot fail to note everywhere the subtle
craft of the sly men who invented them. If further evidence were
needed to sustain my view it would be found in the fact related by F.
Reuleaux, that to this day the priests arrange an annual
"prayer-festival" of Hindoo women at which the wife must in every way
show her subjection to her husband and master. She must wash his feet,
dry them, put a wreath around his neck, and bring offerings to the
gods, praying that _he_ may prosper and live long. Then follows a meal
for which she has prepared all _his_ favorite dishes. And as a climax,
_the story of Savitri is read_, a story in which the wife lives only
for the husband, while he, as he rudely tells her--after all her
devotion--_lives only for his parents_!
If these stories were anything else than slyly planned object-lessons
calculated to impress and subjugate the women, why is it that the
_husband_ is never chosen to act the self-sacrificing part? He does,
indeed, sometimes indulge in frantic outbursts of grief and maudlin
sentimentality, but that is because he has lost the young woman who
pleased his senses. There is no sign of soul-love here; the husband
never dreams of devoting his life to her, of sacrificing it for her
sake, as she is constantly exhorted to do for his sake. In a word,
masculine selfishness is the keynote of Hindoo life. "When in danger,
never hesitate to sacrifice your goods and your wife to save your
life," we read in the _Hitopadesa_ (25); and No. 4112 of Boehtlingk's
_Hindu Maxims_ declares bluntly that a wife exists for the purpose of
bearing sons, and a son for the purpose of offering sacrifices after
his father's death. There we have masculine selfishness in a nutshell.
Another maxim declares that a wife can atone for her lack or loss of
beauty by faithful subjection to her husband. And in return for all
the devotion expected of her she is utterly despised--considered
unworthy of an education, unfit even to profess virginity--in a word,
looked on "as scarcely forming a part of the human species." In the
most important event in her life--marriage--her choice is never
consulted. The matter is, as we have seen, left to the family barber,
or to the parents, to whom questions of caste and wealth are of
infinitely more importance than personal preferences. When those
matters are arranged the man satisfies himself concerning the
inclinations of the chosen girl's _kindred_, and when assured that he
will not "suffer the affront of a refusal" from _them_ he proceeds
with the offer and the bargaining. "To marry or to buy a girl are
synonymous terms in this country," says Dubois (I., 198); and he
proceeds, to give an account of the bargaining and the disgraceful
quarrels this leads to.