_THE HINDU MYTHOLOGY: AND THE VISHNU PURANA._
The word _Purana_ means “old,” and the original object of the Puranas
would seem to have been the preservation of ancient mythological fictions
and historical traditions. But in the form in which they have come down to
us they do something more than this. They comprehend, more or less
thoroughly, the five following subjects:--1, Primary creation, or
cosmogony; 2, Secondary creation, or the destruction and renovation of
worlds, including chronology; 3, Genealogy of gods and patriarchs; 4,
Reigns of the Manus, or periods called Manwantaras; and 5, History, or
such particulars as are extant of the princes of the solar and lunar
races, and of their descendants to modern times. According to Professor
Wilson, they are evidently derived from the same religious system as the
Rámáyana and Mahábhárata, or from what he calls the mytho-heroic stage of
Hindu belief. “They present, however, peculiarities which designate their
belonging to a later period, and to an important modification in the
progress of opinion. They repeat the theoretical cosmogony of the two
great poems; they expound and systematise the chronological computations;
and they give a more definite and connected representation of the
mythological fictions and the historical traditions. But besides these and
other particulars, which may be derivable from an old, if not from a
primitive era, they offer characteristic peculiarities of a more modern
description, in the paramount importance which they assign to individual
divinities, in the variety and purport of the rites and observances
addressed to them, and in the invention of new legends illustrative of the
power and graciousness of those deities, and of the efficacy of implicit
devotion to them.”
The form of composition adopted in the Puranas is that of a dialogue, in
which its contents are related by one imaginary individual in reply to
another. Several dialogues are eventually woven together; and they purport
to have been held on different occasions between different individuals, in
consequence of similar questions having been asked. Usually the immediate
narrator is Lomaharshaná or Romaharshána, the disciple of Vyasa, who, as
Plato did for Socrates, communicates to the reader his great master’s
utterances. The Vyasa or compiler here meant was Krishna Dwaipáyana, the
son of Parásara; it is said of him that he taught the Vedas and Puranas to
various pupils, but it seems more probable that he was at the head of a
school or college, the members of which moulded the sacred literature of
the Hindus into its present form.
There appear to have been eighteen Puranas: namely, 1, Brahma; 2, Padma;
3, Vaishnava; 4, Saiva; 5, Bhagavata; 6, Náradíya; 7, Márkándeya; 8,
Agneya; 9, Bhavishya; 10, Brahma Vaivarta; 11, Lainga; 12, Váráha; 13,
Skánda; 14, Vámana; 15, Kaurma; 16, Mátsya; 17, Gáruda; 18, Bráhmanda.
The Vishnu Purana is described as that in which Parásara, beginning with
the events of the Varáha Kalpa, expounds man’s moral and religious
obligations in about seven thousand stanzas. It is divided into six
books:--
The first deals chiefly with the details of creation, primary (Sarga) and
secondary (Pratisarga); the first explaining how the universe proceeds
from Prakriti or eternal crude matter; the second, in what way “the forms
of things are developed from the elementary substances previously evolved,
or how they reappear after their temporary destruction.” Both these
creations are periodical; the first does not end until the life of Brahma
ends, when not only the gods and all other forms are annihilated, but the
elements are resolved into the primary substance, besides which one only
spiritual being exists. The latter occurs at the end of every Kalpa, æon,
or day of Brahma, and is wholly limited to the forms of inferior creatures
and the lower worlds; leaving untouched sages and gods and the substance
of the heavens. A description of the ages or periods of time on which
these events depend is involved in the explanation; and it is given
accordingly in wearisome detail. Their character has been a source of very
unnecessary perplexity to European writers; for they belong to a wholly
mythological scheme of chronology, which has no reference to any real or
supposed history of the Hindus, but prefigures, according to their system,
the infinite and eternal revolutions of the universe.
By a singular incongruity the existence of Pradhána, or crude matter, is
identified with Vishnu, who is declared to be both spirit and crude
matter, and not only crude matter, but all visible substance, and Time. He
is Purusha, “spirit;” Pradhána, “crude matter;” Vyakta, “visible form;”
and Kála, “time.” “This,” says Professor Wilson, “cannot but be regarded
as a departure from the primitive dogmas of the Hindus, in which the
distinctness of the Deity and His works was enunciated; in which, upon His
willing the world to be, it was; and in which His interposition in
creation, held to be inconsistent with the quiescence of perfection, was
explained away by the personification of attributes in action, which
afterwards came to be considered as real divinities, Brahma, Vishnu, and
Siva, charged severally, for a given season, with the creation,
preservation, and temporary annihilation of material forms.” In the Vishnu
Purana, these divinities are declared to be no other than Vishnu.
The earth having been duly prepared for the reception of living creatures,
it was peopled by the will-begotten sons of Brahma, the Prajapatis or
patriarchs. But it was necessary to provide these “grey forefathers” of
the early world with wives. For this purpose, the Manu Swayambhuva and his
wife Satarupa, were invented; and their daughters supplied the patriarchs
with female partners. Numerous legends were built up on this basis, and
the whole story assumed an allegorical form. Swayhambhuva, the son of the
self-born or uncreated, and his wife Satarupa, the hundred-formed or
multiform, are themselves allegories; and their female descendants, who
became the wives of the Rishis, are Faith, Devotion, Content,
Intelligence, Tradition, and the like; whilst among their posterity are
found the different phases of the moon and the sacrificial fires. There
are other legends in explanation of the peopling of the earth. All seem to
indicate that the Prajapatis and Rishis were “real personages, the authors
of the Hindu system of social, moral, and religious obligations, and the
first observers of the heavens, and teachers of astronomical science.”
The genealogy is traced of the royal personages of this first race or
dynasty, and is continued into the second book; after which comes a detail
of the geographical system of the Puranas, with Mount Meru, the seven
circular continents, and their surrounding oceans, to the limits of the
world. This (except so far as India or Bharata is concerned) is purely
mythological. In the early portion of the third book, the arrangement of
the Vedas and other sacred writings of the Hindus is described. Then
follows an account of the principal Hindu institutions, the duties of
castes, the obligations of different stages of life, and the celebration
of funeral rites, in a brief but primitive strain, and in harmony with the
laws of Manu. “It is a distinguishing feature of the Vishnu Purana, and it
is characteristic of its being the work of an earlier period than most of
the Puranas, that it enjoins no sectarial or other acts of supererogation;
no Vratas, occasional self-imposed observances; no holy days, no birthdays
of Krishna, no nights dedicated to Lakshmi; no sacrifices or modes of
worship other than those conformable to the ritual of the Vedas. It
contains no Máhálinyas or golden legends, even of the temples in which
Vishnu is adored.”
The fourth book contains a tolerably full list of royal dynasties and
individuals, with a dull chronicle of events, the authenticity of which
cannot always be accepted. In the fifth book we have the life of Krishna,
one of the avatars or manifestations of Vishnu; and in the last an account
of the dissolution of the world, “in both its major and minor cataclysms,”
which, “in the particulars of the end of all things by fire and water, as
well as in the principle of their perpetual renovation, presents a
faithful exhibition of opinions that were general in the ancient world.”
We now proceed to give a few specimens of the contents of this remarkable
work.
_Origin of Rudra_ (Bk. i. c. 8.)
In the beginning of the Kalpa, as Brahma proposed to create a son, who
should be like himself, a youth of a purple complexion appeared; crying
with a low cry, and running about. Brahma, when he beheld him thus
afflicted, said to him: “Why dost thou weep?” “Give me a name,” replied
the boy. “Rudra be thy name,” rejoined the great father of all creatures:
“be composed; desist from tears.” But, though thus addressed, the boy
still wept seven times; and Brahma therefore gave to him seven other
denominations: and to these eight persons regions and wives and posterity
belong. The eight manifestations, then, are named Rudra, Bhava, Sarva,
Isana, Pasaputi, Bhima, Ugra, and Mahádeva, which were given to them by
their great progenitor. He also assigned to them their respective
stations, the sun, water, earth, air, fire, ether, the ministrant Brahman,
and the moon; for these are their several forms. The wives of the sun and
the other manifestations, termed Rudra and the east, were, respectively:
Suvarchalá, Ushá, Vikésí, Sívá, Swáhá, Disas, Dikshá, and Rohini. Now hear
an account of their progeny, by whose successive generations this world
has been peopled. Their sons were severally: Sawaischara (Saturn,) Sukra
(Venus,) the fiery-bodied (Mars,) Mamjava, Skanda, Swarga, Santána, and
Budha (Mercury.)
_Sacrifice of Daksha._
(This remarkable legend, according to Professor Wilson, is intended to
allegorise a struggle between the worshippers of Siva and of Vishnu, in
which the former, after a temporary defeat, obtained the victory.)
There was formerly a peak of Meru, named Sávitra, abounding with gems,
radiant as the sun, and celebrated throughout the three worlds; of immense
extent, difficult of access, and an object of universal adoration. Upon
that glorious eminence, rich with mineral treasures, as upon a splendid
couch, the deity Siva reclined, accompanied by the daughter of the
sovereign of mountains, and attended by the mighty Adityas, the powerful
Vasus, and by the heavenly physicians, the sons of Aswini; by Kubera,
surrounded by his train of Guhyakas, the lord of the Yakshas, who dwells
on Kailása. There also was the great Muni Usanas: there were Rishis of the
first order, with Sanatkumará at their head, divine Rishis, preceded by
Angiras; Viswavasu, with his bands of heavenly choristers; the sages
Nárada and Parvata; and innumerable troops of celestial nymphs.
The breeze blew upon the mountain, bland, pure, and fragrant; and the
trees were decorated with flowers that blossomed in every season.
The Vidyadharas and Siddhas, affluent in devotion, waited upon Mahádeva,
the lord of living creatures; and many other beings, of various forms, did
him homage. Prákshasas of terrific semblance, and Pisáchas of great
strength, of different shapes and features, armed with various weapons,
and blazing like fire, were delighted to be present, as the followers of
the god. There stood the royal Naudin, high in the favour of his lord,
armed with a fiery trident, shining with inherent lustre; and there the
best of rivers, Ganga, the assemblage of all holy waters, stood adoring
the mighty deity. Thus worshipped by all the most excellent of sages and
of gods, abode the omnipotent and all-glorious Mahádeva.
In former times Daksha commenced a holy sacrifice on the side of Himavat,
at the sacred spot Gangádwara, frequented by the Rishis. The gods,
desirous of assisting at this solemn rite, came, with Indra at their head,
to Mahádeva, and intimated their purpose, and having received his
permission, departed, in their splendid chariots, to Gangádwara, as
tradition reports. They found Daksha, the best of the devout, surrounded
by the singers and nymphs of heaven, and by numerous sages, beneath the
shade of clustering trees and climbing plants; and all of them, whether
dwellers on earth, in air, or in the regions above the skies, approached
the patriarch with outward gestures of respect. The Adityas, Vasus,
Rudras, Maruts, all entitled to partake of the oblations, together with
Jishnu, were present.
The (four classes of Pitris) Ushmapas, Somapas, Ajyapas, and Dhúmapas, (or
those who feed upon the flame, the acid juice, the butter, or the smoke of
offerings,) the Aswins, and the progenitors, came along with Brahmá.
Creatures of every class, born from the womb, the egg, from vapour, or
vegetation, came upon their invocation; as did all the gods, with their
brides, who, in their resplendent vehicles, blazed like so many fires.
Beholding them thus assembled, the sage Dadhicha was filled with
indignation, and observed: “The man who worships what ought not to be
worshipped, or pays not reverence where veneration is due, is guilty, most
assuredly, of heinous sin.” Then, addressing Daksha, he said to him: “Why
do you not offer homage to the god who is the lord of life (Pasubhartri?)”
Daksha spake: “I have already many Rudras present, armed with tridents,
wearing braided hair, and existing in eleven forms. I recognise no other
Mahádeva.” Dadhicha spake: “The invocation that is not addressed to Isa
is, for all, but a solitary (and imperfect) summons. Inasmuch as I behold
no other divinity who is superior to Sankhara, this sacrifice of Daksha
will not be completed.” Daksha spake: “I offer in a golden cup, this
entire oblation, which has been consecrated by many prayers, as an
offering ever due to the unequalled Vishnu, the sovereign lord of all....”
(After a conversation between the mighty Maheswara and his spouse, whom he
addresses in epithets which have quite an Homeric sound:)
The mighty Maheswara created, from his mouth, a being like the fire of
fate; a divine being, with a thousand heads, a thousand eyes, a thousand
feet; wielding a thousand clubs, a thousand shafts; holding the shell, the
discus, the mace, and bearing a blazing bow and battle-axe; fierce and
terrific, shining with dreadful splendour, and decorated with the crescent
moon; clothed in a tiger’s skin dripping with blood, having a capacious
stomach, and a vast mouth armed with formidable tusks. His ears were
erect, his lips were pendulous; his tongue was lightning; his hand
brandished the thunderbolt; flames streamed from his hair; a necklace of
pearls wound round his neck; a garland of flame descended on his breast.
Radiant with lustre, he looked like the final fire that consumes the
world. Four tremendous tusks projected from a mouth which extended from
ear to ear.
He was of vast bulk, vast strength, a mighty male and lord, the destroyer
of the universe, and like a large fig tree in circumference; shining like
a hundred moons at once; fierce as the fire of love; having four heads,
sharp white teeth, and of mighty fierceness, vigour, activity, and
courage; glowing with the blaze of a thousand fiery suns at the end of the
world; like a thousand undimmed moons; in bulk like Himádri, Kailása, or
Sumnu, or Mundara, with all its gleaming herbs; bright as the sun of
destruction at end of ages; of irresistible prowess and beautiful aspect;
irascible, with lowering eyes, and a countenance burning like fire;
clothed in the hide of the elephant and lion, and girt round with snakes;
wearing a turban on his head, a moon on his brow: sometimes savage,
sometimes mild; having a chaplet of many flowers on his head, anointed
with various unguents, adorned with different ornaments and many sorts of
jewels, wearing a garland of heavenly Karnikara flowers, and rolling his
eyes with rage. Sometimes he danced; sometimes he laughed aloud; sometimes
he stood wrapt in meditation; sometimes he trampled upon the earth;
sometimes he sang; sometimes he wept repeatedly. And he was endowed with
the faculties of wisdom, dispassion, power, penance, truth, endurance,
fortitude, dominion, and self-knowledge.
This being then knelt down upon the ground, and raising his hands
respectfully to his head, said to Mahádeva: “Sovereign of the gods,
command what it is that I must do for thee;” to which Maheswara replied:
“Spoil the sacrifice of Daksha.” Then the mighty Virabhadra, having heard
the pleasure of his lord, bowed down his head to the feet of Prajápati,
and starting like a lion loosed from bonds, despoiled the sacrifice of
Daksha; knowing that he had been created by the displeasure of Devi. She,
too, in her wrath, as the fearful goddess Rudrakáli, accompanied him, with
all her train, to witness his deeds. Virabhadra, the fierce, abiding in
the region of ghosts, is the minister of the anger of Devi. And he then
created, from the pores of his skin, powerful demigods, the mighty
attendants upon Rudra, of equal valour and strength, who started by
hundreds and by thousands into existence. A loud and confused clamour
straightway filled all the expanse of ether, and inspired the denizens of
heaven with dread. The mountains tottered, and earth shook; the winds
roared, and the depths of the sea were disturbed; the fires lost their
radiance, and the sun grew pale; the planets of the firmament shone not,
neither did the stars give light; the Rishis ceased their hymns, and gods
and demons were mute; and thick darkness eclipsed the chariot of the
skies.
Then from the gloom emerged fearful and numerous forms, shouting the cry
of battle; who instantly broke or overturned the sacrificial columns,
trampled upon the altars, and danced amidst the oblations. Running wildly
hither and thither, with the speed of wind, they tossed about the
implements and vessels of sacrifice, which looked like stars precipitated
from the heavens. The piles of food and beverage for the gods, which had
been heaped up like mountains;[26] the rivers of milk; the tanks of curds
and butter; the masses of honey, and butter-milk, and sugar; the mounds of
condiments and spices of every flavour; the undulating knolls of flesh and
other viands; the celestial liquors; pastes and confections which had been
prepared; these the spirits of wrath devoured, or defiled, or scattered
abroad. And, falling upon the host of the gods, these vast and resistless
Rudras beat or terrified them, mocked and insulted the nymphs and
goddesses, and quickly put an end to the rite, although defended by all
the gods; being the ministers of Rudra’s wrath, and similar to himself.
Some then made a hideous clamour, whilst others fearfully shouted, when
Yajna was decapitated. For the divine Yajna, the lord of sacrifice, began
to fly up to heaven, in the shape of a deer; and Virabhadra, of
immeasurable spirit, apprehending his power, cut off his vast head, after
he had mounted into the sky.
Daksha, the patriarch, his sacrifice being destroyed, overcome with
terror, and utterly broken in spirit, fell prone upon the ground, where
his head was spurned by the feet of the cruel Virabhadra. The thirty
scores of sacred divinities were all presently bound, with a band of fire,
by their lion-like foe; and they all addressed him, crying: “O Rudra, have
mercy upon thy servants! O lord, dismiss thine anger!” This spake Brahma,
and the other gods, and the patriarch Daksha; and, raising their hands,
they said: “Declare, mighty being, who thou art.”
Virabhadra said: “I am not a god, nor an Aditya, nor am I come hither for
enjoyment, nor curious to behold the chiefs of the divinities. Know that I
am come to destroy the sacrifice of Daksha, and that I am called
Virabhadra, the issue of the wrath of Rudra. Bhadrakali, also, who has
sprung from the anger of Devi, is sent here, by the god of gods, to
destroy this rite. Take refuge, king of kings, with him who is the lord of
Uma. For better is the anger of Rudra than the blessings of other gods.”
Having heard the words of Virabhadra, the righteous Daksha propitiated the
mighty god, the holder of the trident, Maheswara. The hearth of sacrifice,
deserted by the Brahmans, had been consumed; Yajna had been metamorphosed
to an antelope; the fires of Rudra’s wrath had been kindled; the
attendants, wounded by the tridents of the servants of the god, were
groaning with pain; the pieces of the uprooted sacrificial posts were
scattered here and there; and the fragments of the meat-offerings were
carried off by flights of hungry vultures and herds of howling jackals.
Suppressing his vital airs, and taking up a posture of meditation, the
many-sighted victor of his foes, Daksha, fixed his eyes everywhere upon
his thoughts. And the god of gods appeared from the altar resplendent as a
thousand suns, and smiling upon him, said, “Daksha, thy sacrifice has been
destroyed through sacred knowledge, I am well pleased with thee.” And he
smiled again, and exclaimed, “What shall I do for thee? Declare, together
with the preceptor of the gods.”
And Daksha, frightened, alarmed, and agitated, his eyes suffused with
tears, raised his hands reverently to his brow, and said, “If, lord, thou
art pleased; if I have found favour in thy sight; if I am to be the object
of thy benevolence; if thou wilt confer upon me a boon, this is the
blessing I solicit, that all these provisions for the solemn sacrifice
which have been collected with much trouble and during a long time, and
have now been eaten, drunk, devoured, burnt, broken, scattered abroad, may
not have been prepared in vain.” “So let it be,” replied Hara, the subduer
of Indra. And thereupon Daksha knelt down upon the earth, and praised
gratefully the author of righteousness, the three-eyed god Mahádeva,
repeating the eight thousand names of the deity whose emblem is a bull.
_Public Games._ (Bk. v., c. 10.)
As Krishna and Rama proceeded along the high road, they saw coming towards
them a young girl, who was crooked, carrying a pot of unguent. Addressing
her sportively, Krishna said, “For whom are you carrying that unguent?
Tell me, lovely maiden, tell me truly.” Spoken to as it were through
affection, Kubja[27], well disposed towards Hari, replied to him also
mirthfully, being smitten by his appearance, “Know you not, beloved, that
I am the servant of Kamsa, and appointed, crooked as I am, to prepare his
perfumes? Of unguent ground by any other he does not approve, and hence I
am enriched through his liberal rewards.” Then said Krishna, “Fair-faced
damsel, give us of this unguent,--fragrant and fit for kings,--as much as
we may rub upon our bodies.” “Take it,” answered Kubja. And she gave them
as much of the unguent as was sufficient for their persons. And they
rubbed it on various parts of their faces and bodies, till they looked
like two clouds, one white and one black, decorated by the many-tinted bow
of Indra.
And Krishna, skilled in the curative art, took hold of her under the chin
with the thumb and two fingers, and lifted up her head, whilst with his
feet he pressed down her feet, and in this way he made her straight.
When she was thus relieved from her deformity, she was a most beautiful
woman; and filled with gratitude and affection, she took Govinda by the
garment, and invited him to her house. Promising to come at some other
time, Krishna smilingly dismissed her, and then laughed aloud on beholding
the countenance of Baladeva.
Dressed in blue and yellow garments, and anointed with fragrant unguents,
Krishna and Rama proceeded to the hall of arms, which was hung round with
garlands. Inquiring of the warders which bow he was to try, and being
directed to it, Krishna took it, and bent it. But drawing it with
violence, he snapped it in two, and all Mathura resounded with the noise
which its fracture occasioned. Abused by the warders for breaking the bow,
Krishna and Rama retorted, and defied them, and left the hall.
When Kamsa knew that Akrura had returned, and heard that the bow had been
broken, he then said to Chanura and Mushtika, his boxers, “Two youths,
cowherd boys, have arrived. You must kill them both, in a trial of
strength, in my presence; for they practise against my life. I shall be
well pleased if you kill them in the match, and will give you whatever you
wish, but not otherwise. These two foes of mine must be killed by you,
fairly or unfairly. The kingdom shall be ours in common when they have
perished.”
Having given them their orders, he sent next for his elephant driver, and
desired him to station his great elephant, Kuvalayapida,--who was as vast
as a cloud charged with rain,--near the gate of the arena, and drive him
upon the two boys when they should attempt to enter. When Kamsa had issued
these commands, and ascertained that the platforms were all ready (for the
spectators), he awaited the rising of the sun, unconscious of impending
death.
In the morning the citizens assembled on the platforms set apart for them;
and the princes, with the ministers and courtiers, occupied the royal
seats. Near the centre of the circle, judges of the games were stationed
by Kamsa, whilst he himself sat apart close by, upon a lofty throne.
Separate platforms were erected for the ladies of the palace, for the
courtesans, and for the wives of the citizens. Nanda and the cowherds had
places appropriated to them, at the end of which sat Akrura and Vasudeva.
Amongst the wives of the citizens appeared Devaki, mourning for her son,
whose lovely face she longed to behold, even in the hour of his
destruction.
When the musical instruments sounded, Chanura sprang forth, and the people
cried, “Alas!” and Mushtika slapped his arms in defiance. Covered with
blood and mud from the elephant, which, when goaded upon them by its
driver, they had slain, and armed with its tusks, Balabhadra and Janardana
confidently entered the arena, like two lions amidst a herd of deer.
Exclamations of pity arose from all the spectators, along with expressions
of astonishment. “This, then,” said the people, “is Krishna. This is
Balabhadra. This is he by whom the fierce night-walker Putana was slain;
by whom the waggon was overturned, and the two Arjuna trees felled. This
is the boy who trampled and danced on the serpent Kaliya; who upheld the
mountain Govardhana for seven nights; who killed, as if in play, the
iniquitous Arishta, Dhenuka, and Kisra. This, whom we see, is Achyuta.
This is he who has been foretold by the wise, skilled in the sense of the
Puranas, as Gopala, who shall exalt the depressed Yadava race. This is a
portion of the all-existing, all-generating Vishnu, descended upon earth,
who will, assuredly, lighten her load.”
Thus did the citizens describe Rama and Krishna, as soon as they appeared:
whilst the breast of Devaki glowed with maternal affection; and Vasudeva,
forgetting his infirmities, felt himself young again, on beholding the
countenances of his sons as a season of rejoicing. The women of the
palace, and the wives of the citizens, wide opened their eyes, and gazed
intently upon Krishna.
“Look, friends,” said they to their companions; “look at the face of
Krishna. His eyes are reddened by his conflict with the elephant; and the
drops of perspiration stand upon his cheeks, outvying a full-blown lotus
in autumn, studded with glittering dew. Avail yourself, now, of the
faculty of vision. Observe his breast,--the seat of splendour, marked
with the mystic sign,--and his arms, menacing destruction to his foes. Do
you not notice Balabhadra, dressed in a blue garment,--his countenance as
fair as the jasmine, as the moon, as the fibres of the lotus-stem? See how
he gently smiles at the gestures of Mushtika and Chanura, as they spring
up.
“And now behold Hari advance to encounter Chanura. What! Are there no
elders, judges of the field? How can the delicate form of Hari,--only yet
in the dawn of adolescence,--be regarded as a match for the vast and
adamantine bulk of the great demon? Two youths, of light and elegant
persons, are in the arena, to oppose athletic fiends, headed by the cruel
Chanura. This is a great sin in the judges of the games, for the umpires
to suffer a contest between boys and strong men.”
As thus the women of the city conversed with one another, Hari, having
tightened his girdle, danced in the ring, shaking the ground on which he
trod. Balabhadra also danced, slapping his arms in defiance. Where the
ground was firm, the invincible Krishna contended, foot to foot, with
Chanura. The practised demon Mushtika was opposed by Balabhadra. Mutually
entwining, and pushing, and pulling, and beating each other with fists,
arms, and elbows, pressing each other with their knees, interlacing their
arms, kicking with their feet, pressing with their whole weight upon one
another, fought Hari and Chanura.
Desperate was the struggle, though without weapons, and one for life and
death, to the great gratification of the spectators. In proportion as the
contest continued, so Chanura was gradually losing something of his
original vigour, and the wreath upon his head trembled from his fury and
distress; whilst the world-comprehending Krishna wrestled with him as if
but in sport. Beholding Chanura losing, and Krishna gaining strength,
Kamsa, furious with rage, commanded the music to cease.
As soon as the drums and trumpets were silenced, a numerous band of
heavenly instruments was heard in the sky; and the unseen gods exclaimed:
“Victory to Govinda! Kesava, kill the demon Chanura!” Madhusudana, having,
for a long time, dallied with his adversary, at last lifted him up, and
whirled him round, with the intention of putting an end to him. Having
whirled Chanura round a hundred times, until his breath was expended in
the air, Krishna dashed him on the ground, with such violence as to smash
his body into a hundred fragments, and strew the earth with a hundred
pools of gory mire.
Whilst this took place, the mighty Baladeva was engaged, in the same
manner, with the demon bruiser, Mushtika. Striking him on the head with
his fists, and on the breast with his knees, he stretched him on the
ground, and pummelled him there till he was dead. Again, Krishna
encountered the royal bruiser Tosaluka, and felled him to the earth with a
blow of his left hand. When the other athletes saw Chanura, Mushtika, and
Tosaluka killed, they fled from the field; and Krishna and Sankarshana
danced, victorious, on the arena, dragging along with them, by force, the
cowherds of their own age. Kamsa, his eyes reddening with wrath, called
aloud to the surrounding people:--“Drive those two cowboys out of the
assembly: seize the villain Nanda, and secure him with chains of iron; put
Vasudeva to death with tortures intolerable to his years: and lay hands
upon the cattle, and whatever else belongs to those cowherds who are the
associates of Krishna.”
Upon hearing these orders, the destroyer of Madhu laughed at Kamsa, and,
springing up to the place where he was seated, laid hold of him by the
hair of his head, and struck his tiara to the ground. Then, casting him
down upon the earth, Govinda threw himself upon him. Crushed by the weight
of the upholder of the universe, the son of Ugrasena (Kamsa), the king,
gave up the ghost. Krishna then dragged the dead body, by the hair of the
head, into the centre of the arena; and a deep furrow was made by the vast
and heavy carcase of Kamsa, when it was dragged along the ground by
Krishna, as if a torrent of water had rushed through it.
Seeing Kamsa thus treated, his brother Sunaman came to his succour: but he
was encountered, and easily killed, by Balabhadra. Then arose a general
cry of grief from the surrounding circle, as they beheld the King of
Mathura thus slain, and treated with such contumely, by Krishna. Krishna,
accompanied by Balabhadra, embraced the feet of Vasudeva and of Devaki:
but Vasudeva raised him up; and he and Devaki recalling to recollection
what he had said to them at his birth, they bowed to Janardana; and the
former thus addressed him: “Have compassion upon mortals, O god,
benefactor, and lord of deities. It is by thy favour to us two that thou
hast become the present upholder of the world. That, for the punishment of
the rebellious, thou hast descended upon earth in my house, having been
propitiated by my prayers, sanctifies our race. Thou art the heart of all
creatures; thou abidest in all creatures; and all that has been, or will
be, emanates from thee, O universal spirit. Thou, Achyuta, who
comprehendest all the gods, art eternally worshipped with sacrifices: thou
art sacrifice itself, and the offerer of sacrifices. The affection that
inspires my heart, and the heart of Devaki, towards thee, as if thou wert
our child, is, indeed, but an error and a great delusion.
“How shall the tongue of a mortal such as I am call the creator of all
things, who is without beginning or end, son? Is it consistent that the
lord of the world, from whom the world proceeds, should be born of me,
except through illusion? How should he, in whom all fixed and moveable
things are contained, be conceived in the womb and born of a mortal being?
Have compassion, therefore, indeed, O supreme lord, and, in thy descended
portions, protect the universe. Thou art no son of mine. This whole world,
from Brahma to a tree, thou art. Wherefore dost thou, who art one with the
Supreme, beguile us? Blinded by delusion, I thought thee my son, and for
thee, who art beyond all fear, I dreaded the anger of Kamsa; and,
therefore, did I take thee, in my turn, to Gokula, where thou hast grown
up. But I no longer claim thee as mine own. Thou, Vishnu,--the sovereign
lord of all, whose actions Rudra, Maruts, the Aswins, Indra, and the gods
cannot equal, although they behold them; thou, who hast come amongst us,
for the benefit of the world,--art recognised; and delusion is no more.”
We shall furnish but one other specimen:--
_Anecdotes of Khandikya and Kesidhwaja._
Maitreya, addressing Parasara, says: “Reverend teacher, I am desirous of
being informed what is meant by the term meditation (_yoga_), by
understanding which I may behold the Supreme Being, the upholder of the
universe.”
Parasara, in reply, says that he will repeat the explanation formerly
given by Kesidhwaja to the magnanimous Khandikya, also called Janaka.
Whereupon Maitreya replies: “Tell me, first, Brahman, who Kandikya was and
who Kesidhwaja; and how it happened that a conversation relating to the
practice of Yoga occurred between them.”
Thereupon follows Parasara’s narrative:
There was Janaka, named Dharmadhwaja, who had two sons, Mitadhwaja and
Kritadhwaja; and the latter was a king ever intent upon existent supreme
spirit: his son was the celebrated Kesidhwaja. The son of Mitadhwaja was
Janaka, called Khandikya. Khandikya was diligent in the way of works, and
was renowned, on earth, for religious rites. Kesidhwaja, on the other
hand, was endowed with spiritual knowledge. These two were engaged in
hostilities; and Khandikya was driven from his principality by Kesidhwaja.
Expelled from his dominions, he wandered, with a few followers, his
priest, and his counsellors, amidst woods and mountains, where, destitute
of true wisdom, he performed many sacrifices, expecting, thereby, to
obtain divine truth, and to escape from death by ignorance.
Once, while the best of those who are skilled in devotion (Kesidhwaja) was
engaged in devout exercises, a fierce tiger slew his milch-cow, in the
lonely forest. When the Raja heard that the cow had been killed, he asked
the ministering priests what form of penance would expiate the crime. They
replied, that they did not know, and referred him to Kaseru. Kaseru, when
the Raja consulted him, told him that he, too, knew not, but that Sunaka
would be able to tell him. Accordingly, the Raja went to Sunaka; but he
replied: “I am as unable, great king, to answer your question as Kaseru
has been; and there is no one now, upon earth, who can give you the
information, except your enemy Khandikya, whom you have conquered.”
Upon receiving this answer, Kesidhwaja said: “I will go, then, and pay a
visit to my foe. If he kill me, no matter; for, then, I shall obtain the
reward that attends being killed in a holy cause. If (on the contrary) he
tell me what penance to perform, then my sacrifice will be unimpaired in
efficacy.”
Accordingly, he ascended his car, having clothed himself in the deer skin
of the religious student, and went to the forest where the wise Khandikya
resided. When Khandikya beheld him approach, his eyes reddened with rage,
and he took up his bow and said to him: “You have armed yourself with the
deer skin to accomplish my destruction; imagining that, in such an attire,
you will be safe from me. But, fool, the deer upon whose backs this skin
is seen are slain, by you and me, with sharp arrows. So will I slay you:
you shall not go free, whilst I am living. You are an unprincipled felon,
who have robbed me of my kingdom, and are deserving of death.”
To this Kesidhwaja answered: “I have come hither, Khandikya, to ask you to
solve my doubts, and not with any hostile intention. Lay aside, therefore,
both your arrow and your anger.”
Thus spoken to, Khandikya retired awhile, with his counsellors and his
priest, and consulted them what course he should pursue. They strongly
urged him to slay Kesidhwaja while he was in his power, since by his death
he would again become the monarch of the whole world.
Khandikya replied to them:--“It is, no doubt, true that, by such an act, I
should become the monarch of the whole earth. He, however, would thereby
conquer the world to come; whilst the earth would be mine. Now, if I do
not kill him, I shall subdue the next world, and leave him this earth. It
seems to me that this world is not of more value than the next: for the
subjugation of the next world endures for ever; the conquest over this is
but for a brief season. I will, therefore, not kill him, but tell him what
he wishes to know.”
* * * * *
Accordingly, Kesidhwaja proceeds to describe the benefits which result
from the Yoga or contemplative devotion.
The sage, or Yogin, when first applying himself to contemplative devotion,
is called the novice or practitioner (Yoga-yuj); when he has attained
spiritual union, he is termed the adept, or he whose meditations are
accomplished. Should the thoughts of the former be unvitiated by any
obstructing imperfection, he will obtain freedom, after practising
devotion through several lives. The latter speedily obtains liberation in
that existence in which he reaches perfection, all his acts being consumed
by the fire of contemplative devotion. The sage who would bring his mind
into a fit state for the performance of devout contemplation must be
devoid of desire, and observe invariably continence, compassion, truth,
honesty, and disinterestedness: he must fix his mind intently on the
supreme Brahma, practising holy study, purification, contentment, penance,
and self-control. These virtues, respectively termed the five acts of
restraint (Yama) and five of obligation (Niyama), bestow excellent
rewards, when practised for the sake of reward, and eternal liberation,
when they are not prompted by desire of transient benefits. Endowed with
these merits, the sage, self-restrained, should sit in one of the modes
termed Bhadrasana,[28] and engage in contemplation.
Bringing his vital airs, called Prana, under subjection, by frequent
repetition, is thence called a Pranayama, which is, as it were, a seed
with a seed. In this, the breath of expiration and that of inspiration are
alternately obstructed, constituting the act twofold; and the suppression
of both modes of breathing produces a third. The exercise of the Yogin,
whilst endeavouring to bring before his thoughts the gross form of the
Eternal, is denominated Alambana.[29] He is then to perform the
Pratyahara, which consists in restraining his organs of sense from
susceptibility to outward impressions, and directing them entirely to
mental perceptions. By these means the entire subjugation of the unsteady
senses is effected; and, if they are not controlled, the sage will not
accomplish his devotions. When, by the Pranayama, the vital airs are
restrained, and the senses are subjugated by the Pratyahara, then indeed
the sage will be able to keep his mind steady in its perfect asylum.
The sage now plunges into transcendentalism which would be barely
intelligible, and certainly uninteresting to the reader, and we shall
therefore decline to follow him, concluding our extract with the
description of Vishnu which Kesidhwaja furnishes to his inquiring guest.
Think of him as having a pleased and lovely countenance, with eyes like
the leaf of the lotus, marble cheeks, and a broad and brilliant forehead;
ears of equal size, the lobes of which are decorated with splendid
pendants; a painted neck; and a broad breast, on which shines the Srivatsa
mark; a belly falling in graceful folds, with a deep-seated navel; eight
long arms, or else four; and firm and well-knit thighs and legs, with
well-formed feet and toes. Let him, with well-governed thoughts,
contemplate, as long as he can persevere in unremitting attention, Hari,
as clad in a yellow robe, wearing a rich diadem on his head, and brilliant
armlets and bracelets on his arms, and bearing in his hands the bow, the
shell, the mace, the sword, the discus, the rosary, the lotus, and the
arrow.