The following curious fable is given by Sir William Jones, as one of the
stories of the Hindus for the origin of Phallic devotion:—“Certain
devotees in a remote time had acquired great renown and respect, but the
purity of the art was wanting, nor did their motives and secret thoughts
correspond with their professions and exterior conduct. They affected
poverty, but were attached to the things of this world, and the princes
and nobles were constantly sending their offerings. They seemed to
sequester themselves from this world; they lived retired from the towns;
but their dwellings were commodious, and their women numerous and
handsome. But nothing can be hid from their gods, and Sheevah resolved
to put them to shame. He desired Prakeety (nature) to accompany him; and
assumed the appearance of a Pandaram of a graceful form. Prakeety was
herself a damsel of matchless worth. She went before the devotees who
were assembled with their disciples, awaiting the rising of the sun, to
perform their ablutions and religious ceremonies. As she advanced the
refreshing breeze moved her flowing robe, showed the exquisite shape
which it seemed intended to conceal. With eyes cast down, though
sometimes opening with a timid but tender look, she approached them, and
with a low enchanting voice desired to be admitted to the sacrifice. The
devotees gazed on her with astonishment. The sun appeared, but the
purifications were forgotten; the things of the Poojah (worship) lay
neglected; nor was any worship thought of but that of her. Quitting the
gravity of their manners, they gathered round her as flies round the
lamp at night—attracted by its splendour, but consumed by its flame.
They asked from whence she came; whither she was going. ‘Be not offended
with us for approaching thee, forgive us our importunities. But thou art
incapable of anger, thou who art made to convey bliss; to thee, who
mayest kill by indifference, indignation and resentment are unknown. But
whoever thou mayest be, whatever motive or accident might have brought
thee amongst us, admit us into the number of thy slaves; let us at least
have the comfort to behold thee.’ Here the words faltered on the lip,
and the soul seemed ready to take its flight; the vow was forgotten, and
the policy of years destroyed.
“Whilst the devotees were lost in their passions, and absent from their
homes, Sheevah entered their village with a musical instrument in his
hand, playing and singing like some of those who solicit charity. At the
sound of his voice, the women immediately quitted their occupation; they
ran to see from whom it came. He was as beautiful as Krishen on the
plains of Matra. Some dropped their jewels without turning to look for
them; others let fall their garments without perceiving that they
discovered those abodes of pleasure which jealousy as well as decency
had ordered to be concealed. All pressed forward with their offerings,
all wished to speak, all wished to be taken notice of, and bringing
flowers and scattering them before him, said—‘Askest thou alms! thou who
are made to govern hearts. Thou whose countenance is as fresh as the
morning, whose voice is the voice of pleasure, and they breath like that
of Vassant (Spring) in the opening of the rose! Stay with us and we will
serve thee; nor will we trouble thy repose, but only be zealous how to
please thee.’ The Pandaram continued to play, and sung the loves of Kama
(God of Love), of Krishen and the Gopia, and smiling the gentle smiles
of fond desire....
“But the desire of repose succeeds the waste of pleasure. Sleep closed
the eyes and lulled the senses. In the morning the Pandaram was gone.
When they awoke they looked round with astonishment, and again cast
their eyes on the ground. Some directed to those who had formerly been
remarked for their scrupulous manners, but their faces were covered with
their veils. After sitting awhile in silence they arose and went back to
their houses, with slow and troubled steps. The devotees returned about
the same time from their wanderings after Prakeety. The days that
followed were days of embarrassment and shame. If the women had failed
in their modesty, the devotees had broken their vows. They were vexed at
their weakness, they were sorry for what they had done; yet the tender
sigh sometimes broke forth, and the eyes often turned to where the men
first saw the maid—the women, the Pandaram.
“But the women began to perceive that what the devotees foretold came
not to pass. Their disciples, in consequence, neglected to attend them,
and the offerings from the princes and nobles became less frequent than
before. They then performed various penances; they sought for secret
places among the woods unfrequented by man; and having at last shut
their eyes from the things of this world, retired within themselves in
deep meditation, that Sheevah was the author of their misfortunes. Their
understanding being imperfect, instead of bowing the head with humility,
they were inflamed with anger; instead of contrition for their
hypocrisy, they sought for vengeance. They performed new sacrifices and
incantations, which were only allowed to have effect in the end, to show
the extreme folly of man in not submitting to the will of heaven.
“Their incantations produced a tiger, whose mouth was like a cavern and
his voice like thunder among the mountains. They sent him against
Sheevah, who with Prakeety was amusing himself in the vale. He smiled at
their weakness, and killing the tiger at one blow with his club, he
covered himself with his skin. Seeing themselves frustrated in this
attempt, the devotees had recourse to another, and sent serpents against
him of the most deadly kind; but on approaching him they became
harmless, and he twisted them round his neck. They then sent their
curses and imprecations against him, but they all recoiled upon
themselves. Not yet disheartened by all these disappointments, they
collected all their prayers, their penances, their charities, and other
good works, the most acceptable sacrifices; and demanding in return only
vengeance against Sheevah, they sent a fire to destroy his genital
parts. Sheevah, incensed at this attempt, turned the fire with
indignation against the human race; and mankind would soon have been
destroyed, had not Vishnu, alarmed at the danger, implored him to
suspend his wrath. At his entreaties Sheevah relented; but it was
ordained that in his temples those parts should be _worshipped_, which
the false doctrines had impiously attempted to destroy.”