A History of Sanskrit Literature

Book XIII. about Vrishadarbha, son of Çibi. Distinctly Buddhistic in

Chapter 126,560 wordsPublic domain

origin and character, the story is famous in Pali as well as Sanskrit literature, and spread beyond the limits of India.

The story of the abduction of Draupadi forms an episode of her life while she dwelt with the Pandus in the Kamyaka forest. Accidentally seen when alone by King Jayadratha of Sindhu, who was passing with a great army, and fell in love with her at first sight, she was forcibly carried off, and only rescued after a terrible fight, in which the Pandus annihilated Jayadratha's host.

Interesting as an illustration of the mythological ideas of the age is the episode which describes the journey of Arjuna to Indra's heaven. Here we see the mighty warrior-god of the Vedas transformed into a glorified king of later times, living a life of ease amid the splendours of his celestial court, where the ear is lulled by strains of music, while the eye is ravished by the graceful dancing and exquisite beauty of heavenly nymphs.

In the story of Savitri we have one of the finest of the many ideal female characters which the older epic poetry of India has created. Savitri, daughter of Açvapati, king of Madra, chooses as her husband Satyavat, the handsome and noble son of a blind and exiled king, who dwells in a forest hermitage. Though warned by the sage Narada that the prince is fated to live but a single year, she persists in her choice, and after the wedding departs with her husband to his father's forest retreat. Here she lives happily till she begins to be tortured with anxiety on the approach of the fatal day. When it arrives, she follows her husband on his way to cut wood in the forest. After a time he lies down exhausted. Yama, the god of death, appears, and taking his soul, departs. As Savitri persistently follows him, Yama grants her various boons, always excepting the life of her husband; but yielding at last to her importunities, he restores the soul to the lifeless body. Satyavat recovers, and lives happily for many years with his faithful Savitri.

One of the oldest and most beautiful stories inserted in the Mahabharata is the Nalopakhyana, or "Episode of Nala." It is one of the least corrupted of the episodes, its great popularity having prevented the transforming hand of an editor from introducing Çiva and Vishnu, or from effacing the simplicity of the manners it depicts--the prince, for instance, cooks his own food--or from changing the character of Indra, and other old traits. The poem is pervaded by a high tone of morality, manifested above all in the heroic devotion and fidelity of Damayanti, its leading character. It also contains many passages distinguished by tender pathos.

The story is told by the wise Brihadaçva to the exiled Yudhishthira, in order to console him for the loss of the kingdom he has forfeited at play. Nala, prince of Nishada, chosen from among many competitors for her hand by Damayanti, princess of Vidarbha, passes several years of happy married life with her. Then, possessed by the demon Kali, and indulging in gambling, he loses his kingdom and all his possessions. Wandering half naked in the forest with Damayanti, he abandons her in his frenzy. Very pathetic is the scene describing how he repeatedly returns to the spot where his wife lies asleep on the ground before he finally deserts her. Equally touching are the accounts of her terror on awaking to find herself alone in the forest, and of her lamentations as she roams in search of her husband, and calls out to him--

Hero, valiant, knowing duty, To honour faithful, lord of earth, If thou art within this forest, Then show thee in thy proper form. Shall I hear the voice of Nala, Sweet as the draught of Amrita, With its deep and gentle accent, Like rumble of the thunder-cloud, Saying "Daughter of Vidarbha!" To me with clear and blessed sound. Rich, like Vedas murmured flowing, At once destroying all my grief?

There are graphic descriptions of the beauties and terrors of the tropical forest in which Damayanti wanders. At last she finds her way back to her father's court at Kundina Many and striking are the similes with which the poet dwells on the grief and wasted form of the princess in her separation from her husband. She is

Like the young moon's slender crescent Obscured by black clouds in the sky; Like the lotus-flower uprooted, All parched and withered by the sun; Like the pallid night, when Rahu Has swallowed up the darkened moon.

Nala, meanwhile, transformed into a dwarf, has become charioteer to the king of Oudh. Damayanti at last hears news leading her to suspect her husband's whereabouts. She accordingly holds out hopes of her hand to the king of Oudh, on condition of his driving the distance of 500 miles to Kundina in a single day. Nala, acting as his charioteer, accomplishes the feat, and is rewarded by the king with the secret of the highest skill in dicing. Recognised by his wife in spite of his disguise, he regains his true form. He plays again, and wins back his lost kingdom. Thus after years of adventure, sorrow, and humiliation he is at last reunited with Damayanti, with whom he spends the rest of his days in happiness.

Though several supernatural and miraculous features like those which occur in fairy tales are found in the episode of Nala, they are not sufficient to mar the spirit of true poetry which pervades the story as a whole.

THE PURANAS.

Closely connected with the Mahabharata is a distinct class of eighteen epic works, didactic in character and sectarian in purpose, going by the name of Purana. The term purana is already found in the Brahmanas designating cosmogonic inquiries generally. It is also used in the Mahabharata somewhat vaguely to express "ancient legendary lore," implying didactic as well as narrative matter, and pointing to an old collection of epic stories. One passage of the epic (I. v. 1) describes purana as containing stories of the gods and genealogies of the sages. In Book XVIII., as well as in the Harivamça, mention is even made of eighteen Puranas, which, however, have not been preserved; for those known to us are all, on the whole, later than the Mahabharata, and for the most part derive their legends of ancient days from the great epic itself. Nevertheless they contain much that is old; and it is not always possible to assume that the passages they have in common with the Mahabharata and Manu have been borrowed from those works. They are connected by many threads with the old law-books (smritis) and the Vedas, representing probably a development of older works of the same class. In that part of their contents which is peculiar to them, the Puranas agree so closely, being often verbally identical for pages, that they must be derived from some older collection as a common source. Most of them are introduced in exactly the same way as the Mahabharata, Ugraçravas, the son of Lomaharshana, being represented as relating their contents to Çaunaka on the occasion of a sacrifice in the Naimisha forest. The object of most of these legendary compilations is to recommend the sectarian cult of Vishnu, though some of them favour the worship of Çiva.

Besides cosmogony, they deal with mythical descriptions of the earth, the doctrine of the cosmic ages, the exploits of ancient gods, saints, and heroes, accounts of the Avatars of Vishnu, the genealogies of the Solar and Lunar race of kings, and enumerations of the thousand names of Vishnu or of Çiva. They also contain rules about the worship of the gods by means of prayers, fastings, votive offerings, festivals, and pilgrimages.

The Garuda, as well as the late and unimportant Agni Purana, practically constitute abstracts of the Mahabharata and the Harivamça.

The Vayu, which appears to be one of the oldest, coincides in part of its matter with the Mahabharata, but is more closely connected with the Harivamça, the passage which deals with the creation of the world often agreeing verbatim with the corresponding part of the latter poem.

The relationship of the Matsya Purana to the great epic and its supplementary book as sources is similarly intimate. It is introduced with the story of Manu and the Fish (Matsya). The Kurma, besides giving an account of the various Avatars of Vishnu (of which the tortoise or kurma is one), of the genealogies of gods and kings, as well as other matters, contains an extensive account of the world in accordance with the accepted cosmological notions of the Mahabharata and of the Puranas in general. The world is here represented as consisting of seven concentric islands separated by different oceans. The central island, with Mount Meru in the middle, is Jambu-dvipa, of which Bharata-varsha, the "kingdom of the Bharatas," or India, is the main division.

The Markandeya, which expressly recognises the priority of the Mahabharata, is so called because it is related by the sage Markandeya to explain difficulties suggested by the epic, such as, How could Krishna become a man? Its leading feature is narrative and it is the least sectarian of the Puranas.

The extensive Padma Purana, which contains a great many stones agreeing with those of the Mahabharata, is, on the other hand, strongly Vishnuite in tone. Yet this, as well as the Markandeya, expressly states the doctrine of the Tri-murti or Trinity, that Brahma, Vishnu, and Çiva are only one being. This doctrine, already to be found in the Harivamça, is not so prominent in post-Vedic literature as is commonly supposed. It is interesting to note that the story of Rama, as told in the Padma Purana, follows not only the Ramayana but also Kalidasa's account in the Raghuvamça, with which it often agrees literally. Again, the story of Çakuntala is related, not in accordance with the Mahabharata, but with Kalidasa's drama.

The Brahma-vaivarta Purana is also strongly sectarian in favour of Vishnu in the form of Krishna. It is to be noted that both here and in the Padma Purana an important part is played by Krishna's mistress Radha, who is unknown to the Harivamça, the Vishnu, and even the Bhagavata Purana.

The Vishnu Purana, which very often agrees with the Mahabharata in its subject-matter, corresponds most closely to the Indian definition of a Purana, as treating of the five topics of primary creation, secondary creation, genealogies of gods and patriarchs, reigns of various Manus, and the history of the old dynasties of kings.

The Bhagavata Purana, which consists of about 18,000 çlokas, derives its name from being dedicated to the glorification of Bhagavata or Vishnu. It is later than the Vishnu, which it presupposes, probably dating from the thirteenth century. It exercises a more powerful influence in India than any other Purana. The most popular part is the tenth book, which narrates in detail the history of Krishna, and has been translated into perhaps every one of the vernacular languages of India.

Other Vishnuite Puranas of a late date are the Brahma, the Naradiya, the Vamana, and the Varaha, the latter two called after the Dwarf and the Boar incarnations of Vishnu.

Those which specially favour the cult of Çiva are the Skanda, the Çiva, the Linga, and the Bhavishya or Bhavishyat Puranas. The latter two contain little narrative matter, being rather ritual in character. A Bhavishyat Purana is already mentioned in the Apastamba Dharma Sutra.

Besides these eighteen Puranas there is also an equal number of secondary works of the same class called Upa-puranas, in which the epic matter has become entirely subordinate to the ritual element.

THE RAMAYANA.

Though there is, as we shall see, good reason for supposing that the original part of the Ramayana assumed shape at a time when the Mahabharata was still in a state of flux, we have deferred describing it on account of its connection with the subsequent development of epic poetry in Sanskrit literature.

In its present form the Ramayana consists of about 24,000 çlokas, and is divided into seven books. It has been preserved in three distinct recensions, the West Indian (A), the Bengal (B), and the Bombay (C). About one-third of the çlokas in each recension occurs in neither of the other two. The Bombay recension has in most cases preserved the oldest form of the text; for, as the other two arose in the centres of classical Sanskrit literature, where the Gauda and the Vaidarbha styles of composition respectively flourished, the irregularities of the epic language have been removed in them. The Ramayana was here treated as a regular kavya or artificial epic, a fate which the Mahabharata escaped because it early lost its original character, and came to be regarded as a didactic work. These two later recensions must not, however, be looked upon as mere revisions of the Bombay text. The variations of all three are of such a kind that they can for the most part be accounted for only by the fluctuations of oral tradition among the professional reciters of the epic, at the time when the three recensions assumed definite shape in different parts of the country by being committed to writing. After having been thus fixed, the fate of each of these recensions was of course similar to that of any other text. They appear to go back to comparatively early times. For quotations from the Ramayana occurring in works that belong to the eighth and ninth centuries A.D. show that a recension allied to the present C, and probably another allied to the present A, existed at that period. Moreover, Kshemendra's poetical abstract of the epic, the Ramayana-kathasara-manjari, which follows the contents of the original step by step, proves that its author used A, and perhaps B also, in the middle of the eleventh century. Bhoja, the composer of another epitome, the Ramayana-champu, probably used C in the same century.

The careful investigations of Professor Jacobi have shown that the Ramayana originally consisted of five books only (ii.-vi.). The seventh is undoubtedly a later addition, for the conclusion of the sixth was evidently at one time the end of the whole poem. Again, the first book has several passages which conflict with statements in the later books. It further contains two tables of contents (in cantos i. and iii.) which were clearly made at different times; for one of them takes no notice of the first and last books, and must, therefore, have been made before these were added. What was obviously a part of the commencement of the original poem has been separated from its continuation at the opening of Book II., and now forms the beginning of the fifth canto of Book I. Some cantos have also been interpolated in the genuine books. As Professor Jacobi shows, all these additions to the original body of the epic have been for the most part so loosely attached that the junctures are easy to recognise. They are, however, pervaded by the same spirit as the older part. There is, therefore, no reason for the supposition that they are due to a Brahman revision intended to transform a poem originally meant for the warrior caste. They seem rather to owe their origin simply to the desire of professional rhapsodists to meet the demands of the popular taste. We are told in the Ramayana itself that the poem was either recited by professional minstrels or sung to the accompaniment of a stringed instrument, being handed down orally, in the first place by Rama's two sons Kuça and Lava. These names are nothing more than the inventions of popular etymology meant to explain the Sanskrit word kuçilava, "bard" or "actor." The new parts were incorporated before the three recensions which have come down to us arose, but a considerable time must have elapsed between the composition of the original poem and that of the additions. For the tribal hero of the former has in the latter been transformed into a national hero, the moral ideal of the people; and the human hero (like Krishna in the Mahabharata) of the five genuine books (excepting a few interpolations) has in the first and last become deified and identified with the god Vishnu, his divine nature in these additions being always present to the minds of their authors. Here, too, Valmiki, the composer of the Ramayana, appears as a contemporary of Rama, and is already regarded as a seer. A long interval of time must have been necessary for such transformations as these.

As to the place of its origin, there is good reason for believing that the Ramayana arose in Kosala, the country ruled by the race of Ikshvaku in Ayodhya (Oudh). For we are told in the seventh book (canto 45) that the hermitage of Valmiki lay on the south bank of the Ganges; the poet must further have been connected with the royal house of Ayodhya, as the banished Sita took refuge in his hermitage, where her twin sons were born, brought up, and later learnt the epic from his lips; and lastly, the statement is made in the first book (canto 5) that the Ramayana arose in the family of the Ikshvakus. In Ayodhya, then, there must have been current among the court bards (suta) a number of epic tales narrating the fortunes of the Ikshvaku hero Rama. Such legends, we may assume, Valmiki worked up into a single homogeneous production, which, as the earliest epic of importance conforming to the rules of poetics, justly received the name of adi-kavya, or "first artificial poem," from its author's successors. This work was then learnt by professional rhapsodists (kuçilava) and recited by them in public as they wandered about the country.

The original part of the Ramayana appears to have been completed at a time when the epic kernel of the Mahabharata had not as yet assumed definite shape. For while the heroes of the latter are not mentioned in the Ramayana, the story of Rama is often referred to in the longer epic. Again, in a passage of Book VII. of the Mahabharata, which cannot be regarded as a later addition, two lines are quoted as Valmiki's that occur unaltered in Book VI. of the Ramayana. The poem of Valmiki must, therefore, have been generally known as an old work before the Mahabharata assumed a coherent form. In Book III. (cantos 277-291) of the latter epic, moreover, there is a Ramopakhyana or "Episode of Rama," which seems to be based on the Ramayana as it contains several verses agreeing more or less with Valmiki's lines, and its author presupposes on the part of his audience a knowledge of the Ramayana as represented by the Bombay recension.

A further question of importance in determining the age of the Ramayana is its relation to Buddhistic literature. Now, the story of Rama is found in a somewhat altered form in one of the Pali Birth-Stories, the Daçaratha Jataka. As this version confines itself to the first part of Rama's adventures, his sojourn in the forest, it might at first sight seem to be the older of the two. There is, however, at least an indication that the second part of the story, the expedition to Lanka, was also known to the author of the Jataka; for while Valmiki's poem concludes with the reunion of Rama and Sita, the Jataka is made to end with the marriage of the couple after the manner of fairy tales, there being at the same time traces that they were wedded all along in the original source of the legend. Moreover, a verse from the old part of the Ramayana (vi. 128) actually occurs in a Pali form embedded in the prose of this Jataka.

It might, indeed, be inferred from the greater freedom with which they handle the çloka metre that the canonical Buddhistic writings are older than the Ramayana, in which the çloka is of the classical Sanskrit type. But, as a matter of fact, these Pali works on the whole observe the laws of the classical çloka, their metrical irregularities being most probably caused by the recent application of Pali to literary purposes as well as by the inferior preservation of Pali works. On the other hand, Buddhistic literature early made use of the Arya metre, which, though so popular in classical Sanskrit poetry, is not yet to be found in the Sanskrit epics.

The only mention of Buddha in the Ramayana occurs in a passage which is evidently interpolated. Hence the balance of the evidence in relation to Buddhism seems to favour the pre-Buddhistic origin of the genuine Ramayana.

The question whether the Greeks were known to the author of our epic is, of course, also of chronological moment. An examination of the poem shows that the Yavanas (Greeks) are only mentioned twice, once in Book I. and once in a canto of Book IV., which Professor Jacobi shows to be an interpolation. The only conclusion to be drawn from this is that the additions to the original poem were made some time after 300 B.C. Professor Weber's assumption of Greek influence in the story of the Ramayana seems to lack foundation. For the tale of the abduction of Sita and the expedition to Lanka for her recovery has no real correspondence with that of the rape of Helen and the Trojan war. Nor is there any sufficient reason to suppose that the account of Rama bending a powerful bow in order to win Sita was borrowed from the adventures of Ulysses. Stories of similar feats of strength for a like object are to be found in the poetry of other nations besides the Greeks, and could easily have arisen independently.

The political aspect of Eastern India as revealed by the Ramayana sheds some additional light on the age of the epic. In the first place, no mention is made of the city of Pataliputra (Patna), which was founded by King Kalaçoka (under whom the second Buddhist council was held at Vaiçali about 380 B.C.), and which by the time of Megasthenes (300 B.C.) had become the capital of India. Yet Rama is in Book I. (canto 35) described as passing the very spot where that city stood, and the poet makes a point (in cantos 32-33) of referring to the foundation of a number of cities in Eastern Hindustan, such as Kauçambi, Kanyakubja, and Kampilya, in order to show how far the fame of the Ramayana spread beyond the confines of Kosala, the land of its origin. Had Pataliputra existed at the time, it could not have failed to be mentioned.

It is further a noteworthy fact that the capital of Kosala is in the original Ramayana regularly called Ayodhya, while the Buddhists, Jains, Greeks, and Patanjali always give it the name of Saketa. Now in the last book of the Ramayana we are told that Rama's son, Lava, fixed the seat of his government at Çravasti, a city not mentioned at all in the old part of the epic; and in Buddha's time King Prasenajit of Kosala is known to have reigned at Çravasti. All this points to the conclusion that the original Ramayana was composed when the ancient Ayodhya had not yet been deserted, but was still the chief city of Kosala, when its new name of Saketa was still unknown, and before the seat of government was transferred to Çravasti.

Again, in the old part of Book I., Mithila and Viçala are spoken of as twin cities under separate rulers, while we know that by Buddha's time they had coalesced to the famous city of Vaiçali, which was then ruled by an oligarchy.

The political conditions described in the Ramayana indicate the patriarchal rule of kings possessing only a small territory, and never point to the existence of more complex states; while the references of the poets of the Mahabharata to the dominions in Eastern India ruled by a powerful king, Jarasandha, and embracing many lands besides Magadha, reflect the political conditions of the fourth century B.C. The cumulative evidence of the above arguments makes it difficult to avoid the conclusion that the kernel of the Ramayana was composed before 500 B.C., while the more recent portions were probably not added till the second century B.C. and later.

This conclusion does not at first sight seem to be borne out by the linguistic evidence of the Ramayana, For the epic (arsha) dialect of the Bombay recension, which is practically the same as that of the Mahabharata, both betrays a stage of development decidedly later than that of Panini, and is taken no notice of by that grammarian. But it is, for all that, not necessarily later in date. For Panini deals only with the refined Sanskrit of the cultured (çishta), that is to say, of the Brahmans, which would be more archaic than the popular dialect of wandering rhapsodists; and he would naturally have ignored the latter. Now at the time of the Açoka inscriptions, or hardly more than half a century later than Panini, Prakrit was the language of the people in the part of India where the Ramayana was composed. It is, therefore, not at all likely that the Ramayana, which aimed at popularity, should have been composed as late as the time of Panini, when it could not have been generally understood. If the language of the epic is later than Panini, it is difficult to see how it escaped the dominating influence of his grammar. It is more likely that the popular Sanskrit of the epics received general currency at a much earlier date by the composition of a poem like that of Valmiki. A searching comparative investigation of the classical Kavyas will probably show that they are linguistically more closely connected with the old epic poetry, and that they deviate more from the Paninean standard than is usually supposed.

In style the Ramayana is already far removed from the naïve popular epic, in which the story is the chief thing, and not its form. Valmiki is rich in similes, which he often cumulates; he not infrequently uses the cognate figure called rupaka or "identification" (e.g. "foot-lotus") with much skill, and also occasionally employs other ornaments familiar to the classical poets, besides approximating to them in the style of his descriptions. The Ramayana, in fact, represents the dawn of the later artificial poetry (kavya), which was in all probability the direct continuation and development of the art handed down by the rhapsodists who recited Valmiki's work. Such a relationship is distinctly recognised by the authors of the great classical epics (mahakavis) when they refer to him as the adi-kavi or "first poet."

The story of the Ramayana, as narrated in the five genuine books, consists of two distinct parts. The first describes the events at the court of King Daçaratha at Ayodhya and their consequences. Here we have a purely human and natural account of the intrigues of a queen to set her son upon the throne. There is nothing fantastic in the narrative, nor has it any mythological background. If the epic ended with the return of Rama's brother, Bharata, to the capital, after the old king's death, it might pass for a historical saga. For Ikshvaku, Daçaratha, and Rama are the names of celebrated and mighty kings, mentioned even in the Rigveda, though not there connected with one another in any way.

The character of the second part is entirely different. Based on a foundation of myths, it is full of the marvellous and fantastic. The oldest theory as to the significance of the story was that of Lassen, who held that it was intended to represent allegorically the first attempt of the Aryans to conquer the South. But Rama is nowhere described as founding an Aryan realm in the Dekhan, nor is any such intention on his part indicated anywhere in the epic. Weber subsequently expressed the same view in a somewhat modified form. According to him, the Ramayana was meant to account for the spread of Aryan culture to the South and to Ceylon. But this form of the allegorical theory also lacks any confirmation from the statements of the epic itself; for Rama's expedition is nowhere represented as producing any change or improvement in the civilisation of the South. The poet knows nothing about the Dekhan beyond the fact that Brahman hermitages are to be found there. Otherwise it is a region haunted by the monsters and fabulous beings with which an Indian imagination would people an unknown land.

There is much more probability in the opinion of Jacobi, that the Ramayana contains no allegory at all, but is based on Indian mythology. The foundation of the second part would thus be a celestial myth of the Veda transformed into a narrative of earthly adventures according to a not uncommon development. Sita, can be traced to the Rigveda, where she appears as the Furrow personified and invoked as a goddess. In some of the Grihya Sutras she again appears as a genius of the ploughed field, is praised as a being of great beauty, and is accounted the wife of Indra or Parjanya, the rain-god. There are traces of this origin in the Ramayana itself. For Sita is represented (i. 66) as having emerged from the earth when her father Janaka was once ploughing, and at last she disappears underground in the arms of the goddess Earth (vii. 97). Her husband, Rama, would be no other than Indra, and his conflict with Ravana, chief of the demons, would represent the Indra-Vritra myth of the Rigveda. This identification is confirmed by the name of Ravana's son being Indrajit, "Conqueror of Indra," or Indraçatru, "Foe of Indra," the latter being actually an epithet of Vritra in the Rigveda. Ravana's most notable feat, the rape of Sita, has its prototype in the stealing of the cows recovered by Indra. Hanumat, the chief of the monkeys and Rama's ally in the recovery of Sita, is the son of the wind-god, with the patronymic Maruti, and is described as flying hundreds of leagues through the air to find Sita. Hence in his figure perhaps survives a reminiscence of Indra's alliance with the Maruts in his conflict with Vritra, and of the dog Sarama, who, as Indra's messenger, crosses the waters of the Rasa and tracks the cows. Sarama recurs as the name of a demoness who consoles Sita in her captivity. The name of Hanumat being Sanskrit, the character is probably not borrowed from the aborigines. As Hanumat is at the present day the tutelary deity of village settlements all over India, Prof. Jacobi's surmise that he must have been connected with agriculture, and may have been a genius of the monsoon, has some probability.

The main story of the Ramayana begins with an account of the city of Ayodhya under the rule of the mighty King Daçaratha, the sons of whose three wives, Kauçalya, Kaikeyi, and Sumitra, are Rama, Bharata, and Lakshmana respectively. Rama is married to Sita, daughter of Janaka, king of Videha. Daçaratha, feeling the approach of old age, one day announces in a great assembly that he desires to make Rama heir-apparent, an announcement received with general rejoicing because of Rama's great popularity. Kaikeyi, meanwhile, wishing her son Bharata to succeed, reminds the king that he had once offered her the choice of two boons, of which she had as yet not availed herself. When Daçaratha at last promises to fulfil whatever she may desire, Kaikeyi requests him to appoint Bharata his successor, and to banish Rama for fourteen years. The king, having in vain implored her to retract, passes a sleepless night. Next day, when the solemn consecration of Rama is to take place, Daçaratha sends for his son and informs him of his fate. Rama receives the news calmly and prepares to obey his father's command as his highest duty. Sita and Lakshmana resolve on sharing his fortunes, and accompany him in his exile. The aged king, overcome with grief at parting from his son, withdraws from Kaikeyi, and passing the remainder of his days with Rama's mother, Kauçalya, finally dies lamenting for his banished son. Rama has meanwhile lived peacefully and happily with Sita and his brother in the wild forest of Dandaka. On the death of the old king, Bharata, who in the interval has lived with the parents of his mother, is summoned to the throne. Refusing the succession with noble indignation, he sets out for the forest in order to bring Rama back to Ayodhya. Rama, though much moved by his brother's request, declines to return because he must fulfil his vow of exile. Taking off his gold-embroidered shoes, he gives them to Bharata as a sign that he hands over his inheritance to him. Bharata returning to Ayodhya, places Rama's shoes on the throne, and keeping the royal umbrella over them, holds council and dispenses justice by their side.

Rama now sets about the task of combating the formidable giants that infest the Dandaka forest and are a terror to the pious hermits settled there. Having, by the advice of the sage Agastya, procured the weapons of Indra, he begins a successful conflict, in which he slays many thousands of demons. Their chief, Ravana, enraged and determined on revenge, turns one of his followers into a golden deer, which appears to Sita. While Rama and Lakshmana are engaged, at her request, in pursuit of it, Ravana in the guise of an ascetic approaches Sita, carries her off by force, and wounds the vulture Jatayu, which guards her abode. Rama on his return is seized with grief and despair; but, as he is burning the remains of the vulture, a voice from the pyre proclaims to him how he can conquer his foes and recover his wife. He now proceeds to conclude a solemn alliance with the chiefs of the monkeys, Hanumat and Sugriva. With the help of the latter, Rama slays the terrible giant Bali. Hanumat meanwhile crosses from the mainland to the island of Lanka, the abode of Ravana, in search of Sita. Here he finds her wandering sadly in a grove and announces to her that deliverance is at hand. After slaying a number of demons, he returns and reports his discovery to Rama. A plan of campaign is now arranged. The monkeys having miraculously built a bridge from the continent to Lanka with the aid of the god of the sea, Rama leads his army across, slays Ravana, and wins back Sita. After she has purified herself from the suspicion of infidelity by the ordeal of fire, Rama joyfully returns with her to Ayodhya, where he reigns gloriously in association with his faithful brother Bharata, and gladdens his subjects with a new golden age.

Such in bare outline is the main story of the Ramayana. By the addition of the first and last books Valmiki's epic has in the following way been transformed into a poem meant to glorify the god Vishnu. Ravana, having obtained from Brahma the boon of being invulnerable to gods, demigods, and demons, abuses his immunity in so terrible a manner that the gods are reduced to despair. Bethinking themselves at last that Ravana had in his arrogance forgotten to ask that he should not be wounded by men, they implore Vishnu to allow himself to be born as a man for the destruction of the demon. Vishnu, consenting, is born as Rama, and accomplishes the task. At the end of the seventh book Brahma and the other gods come to Rama, pay homage to him, and proclaim that he is really Vishnu, "the glorious lord of the discus." The belief here expressed that Rama is an incarnation of Vishnu, the highest god, has secured to the hero of our epic the worship of the Hindus down to the present day. That belief, forming the fundamental doctrine of the religious system of Ramanuja in the twelfth and of Ramananda in the fourteenth century, has done much to counteract the spread of the degrading superstitions and impurities of Çivaism both in the South and in the North of India.

The Ramayana contains several interesting episodes, though, of course, far fewer than the Mahabharata. One of them, a thoroughly Indian story, full of exaggerations and impossibilities, is the legend, told in Book I., of the descent of the Ganges. It relates how the sacred river was brought down from heaven to earth in order to purify the remains of the 60,000 sons of King Sagara, who were reduced to ashes by the sage Kapila when his devotions were disturbed by them.

Another episode (i. 52-65) is that of Viçvamitra, a powerful king, who comes into conflict with the great sage Vasishtha by endeavouring to take away his miraculous cow by force. Viçvamitra then engages in mighty penances, in which he resists the seductions of beautiful nymphs, and which extend over thousands of years, till he finally attains Brahmanhood, and is reconciled with his rival, Vasishtha.

The short episode which relates the origin of the çloka metre is one of the most attractive and poetical. Valmiki in his forest hermitage is preparing to describe worthily the fortunes of Rama. While he is watching a fond pair of birds on the bank of the river, the male is suddenly shot by a hunter, and falls dead on the ground, weltering in his blood. Valmiki, deeply touched by the grief of the bereaved female, involuntarily utters words lamenting the death of her mate and threatening vengeance on the wicked murderer. But, strange to tell, his utterance is no ordinary speech and flows in a melodious stream. As he wanders, lost in thought, towards his hut, Brahma appears and announces to the poet that he has unconsciously created the rhythm of the çloka metre. The deity then bids him compose in this measure the divine poem on the life and deeds of Rama. This story may have a historical significance, for it indicates with some probability that the classical form of the çloka was first fixed by Valmiki, the author of the original part of the Ramayana.

The epic contains the following verse foretelling its everlasting fame:--

As long as mountain ranges stand And rivers flow upon the earth: So long will this Ramayana Survive upon the lips of men.

This prophecy has been perhaps even more abundantly fulfilled than the well-known prediction of Horace. No product of Sanskrit literature has enjoyed a greater popularity in India down to the present day than the Ramayana. Its story furnishes the subject of many other Sanskrit poems as well as plays, and still delights, from the lips of reciters, the hearts of myriads of the Indian people, as at the great annual Rama festival held at Benares. It has been translated into many Indian vernaculars. Above all, it inspired the greatest poet of mediæval Hindustan, Tulsi Das, to compose in Hindi his version of the epic entitled Ram Charit Manas, which, with its ideal standard of virtue and purity, is a kind of bible to a hundred millions of the people of Northern India.