Origin and Classification of the Hindoos.
THE Hindoos, though now forming the great body of the population of India, do not seem to have been its earliest inhabitants. These, it is probable, are still represented by some of the hill tribes, who after contending in vain against foreign invaders, quitted the plains, and found an asylum amongst mountains and forests, into which the conquering race could not or cared not to follow them. The tradition is that the Hindoos entered India from the north-west, and had their first settlement in a small tract lying about 100 miles north-west of Delhi, between the Guggur and the Soorsooty. In the Institutes of Menu this tract is said to have been named Brahmaverta, because it was “frequented by the gods,” and the custom preserved in it by immemorial tradition is recommended as “approved usage.” From this tract the Hindoos appear to have spread eastward, and occupied the whole country north of the Jumna and the Ganges. To distinguish this country from Brahmaverta it was called Brahmarshi, and from Brahmins born within it all men on earth are enjoined to learn their several usages. Besides these tracts Menu mentions two others—Medhyadesa, or the central region said to lie between Himayat (the Himalaya) and Vindhya; and Aryaverta, or the land of respectable men, described in rather indefinite terms, but meant apparently to include the countries stretching on each side of the central region, “as far as the eastern and the western oceans,” in other words, the Bay of Bengal and the Arabian Sea.
Assuming that at the time when the Institutes of Menu were compiled, the whole territory included under the names of Brahmaverta, Brahmarshi, Medhyadesa, and Aryaverta, was in full and undisputed possession of the Hindoos, we turn to their records in the hope of obtaining accounts more or less authentic of the manner in which they made their original conquests, and afterwards extended them into the Deccan, so as to bring the whole of India under their power. Unfortunately, on these important points the Hindoo annals furnish no information, and we are presented, instead of historical details, with the most extravagant fables. Commencing at a period so remote that the mind is unable to form any definite conception of the years which have elapsed since its commencement, we arrive at last at four yugas or ages, evidently resembling those with which the literature of the Greeks and Romans has made us familiar. The first age, or satya yuga, lasted 1,728,000 years. During this age man existed in his most perfect form. The whole race was free from any taint of corruption; and each individual, besides being of gigantic stature, lived 100,000 years. In the second age, or trela yuga, one-third of the human race had become corrupt, and the duration of the whole period, as well as of human life, suffered a corresponding diminution, the former being reduced to 1,296,000 years, and the latter to 10,000 years. In the third age, or dwapara yuga, corruption still proceeding, the whole period was reduced to 864,000, and the life of man to 1000 years. In the fourth age, or cali yuga, corruption became universal, and while human life has been restricted to its present maximum of 100 years, it has been predicted that the whole number of years now running their destined course will not exceed 432,000. The three first ages are evidently fabulous; but Hindoo chronology, maintaining a kind of consistency in its extravagance, treats them all as equally authentic, and assigns historical events to each. In some instances, indeed, even the myriads of years included in the ages are deemed insufficient, and the Institutes of Menu, though certainly not older than the ninth century before our era, are fabled to have been written at a date, to reach which, in counting backwards, the 4,320,000 years of the four ages must be multiplied by six times seventy one. In a similar spirit the Surya Sidhanta, an astronomical work of the fifth or sixth century, is assigned to the satya yuga, and gravely declared to have been written more than two millions of years ago.
The cali yuga is the only age which can be regarded as historical. It commenced about 5000 years ago, and thus falls within the period during which we know, from an infallible source, that men have lived upon the earth, and may have spread eastward from their original seat into the basin of the Ganges. Still, notwithstanding some remarkable coincidences, it is difficult in the extreme to unravel the web of Hindoo fiction, and assign a real existence to beings who, though living and performing exploits in localities which are easily identified, figure as the familiar associates of supernal or infernal powers, as the descendants of the sun and moon, and even as incarnations of deity. Such are the heroes of the two celebrated epics, the Ramayana and the Mahabharat.
That they were real human beings, and not mere creatures of the imagination, may easily be admitted; but in all the details respecting them the supernatural predominates so much over the historical, and is so interwoven with it, that the attempt to separate them is fruitless. To the vague information furnished by the Institutes of Menu scarcely anything is added, and we must be contented to know, as a general but unexplained fact, that Hindoo supremacy, after being maintained by dynasties, the most important of which reigned in Ayodah or Oude, situated near the centre of Brahmarshi, was gradually extended over the whole length and breadth of the Indian peninsula, and even beyond it, into the island of Ceylon.
While it is impossible, in the absence of genuine annals, to trace the leading events in the early history of the Hindoos, and present them in the form of a continuous narrative, there is another important branch of inquiry, as to which a similar complaint cannot be made. In several ancient works, and more especially in the Institutes of Menu, we obtain an intimate acquaintance with their internal condition, and are introduced to a state of society of a very extraordinary character. As its distinguishing features must now be passed in review, we begin with the one which lies at the foundation of all the social arrangements of the Hindoos. From a very early date they have existed, not as one people, derived from a common origin and possessed of equal rights, but as distinct classes, separated from each other by impassable barriers, and destined to occupy very different social positions. This classification, to which Europeans, borrowing a synonymous term from the Portuguese, generally give the name of caste, appears to have had its origin in a mythological fiction. According to Hindoo theology, mankind are not the descendants of a single primeval pair, but were at first produced by Brahma, their imaginary creator, from four different parts of his body. From his mouth proceeded the Brahmin, from his arm the Cshatriya, from his thigh the Vaisya, and from his foot the Sudra. Each of these creations furnished the progenitors of a distinct class, whose social position and occupation were thus indelibly fixed in accordance with its origin. According to Menu, the Brahmin, since he sprang from the mouth, the most excellent part, “is by right the chief of this whole creation.” Next in order, but at an immeasurable distance, stands the Cshatriya. His descent marks him out as a soldier, and his principal employment should be “to defend the people.” The Vaisya represents the industrial class, and his proper duty therefore is to keep herds of cattle, to carry on trade, to lend at interest, and to cultivate land. To the Sudra, it is said, the supreme ruler assigns one principal duty, “namely, to serve the before mentioned classes without depreciating their worth.”
In every description of the duties of the different classes, the elevation of the Brahmin is never overlooked. Though the Cshatriya and Vaisya are enjoined or permitted to read the Veda or Hindoo scripture, the Brahmin alone is entitled to teach it. They too may sacrifice on their own account, but to him exclusively is assigned the duty “of assisting others to sacrifice.” The Cshatriya is required to give alms, and the Vaisya to bestow largesses, whereas the Brahmin need not give unless he is rich, and on the contrary, if poor, has the special privilege of “receiving gifts.” These privileges, however, give but a feeble idea of his dignity, and therefore we are distinctly told that “the very birth of Brahmins is a constant incarnation of Dherma, god of justice; for the Brahmin is born to promote justice, and to procure ultimate happiness;” that “when a Brahmin springs to light, he is born above the world, the chief of all creatures, assigned to guard the treasury of duties, religious and civil;” and that “whatever exists in the universe is all, in effect, the wealth of the Brahmin, since the Brahmin is entitled to it all by his primogeniture and eminence of birth.” To secure this pre-eminence of the Brahmins, and give practical effect to it, the principal places of authority and trust are reserved for them. The king, indeed, should properly belong to the Cshatriya class, but the requisite qualifications for his high office are to be acquired by listening with implicit deference to the instructions of Brahmins. From them he is continually to “learn habits of modesty and composure;” by their decision he is to “abide;” and though in choosing his counsellors he is only enjoined in general to appoint “men whose ancestors were servants of kings, who are versed in the holy books, who are personally brave, who are skilled in the use of weapons, and whose lineage is noble;” it is added, not that he is to act on the advice which they may give him, but simply that having ascertained their several opinions “let him impart his momentous counsel to one learned Brahmin distinguished among them all; to him, with full confidence, let him intrust all transactions, and with him having taken his final resolution, let him begin all his measures.” Having thus a Brahmin for his prime minister, he is to select another of eminent learning for the office of chief judge, and leave it to him and three other Brahmins appointed to act with him as assessors, to investigate all causes brought into the king’s court, and prepare them for decision either by himself in person, or by the chief judge as his deputy.
It is not so much, however, by the direct authority conferred upon them as ministers of state and judges that the ascendency of the Brahmins is secured, as by the peculiar sacredness which is attached both to their persons and property, and which, while it permits them to commit crimes with comparative impunity, aggravates the guilt and increases the punishment of those who may dare to injure or offend them. A king, however much he may be pressed for money, must not “provoke Brahmins to anger, by taking their property; for they once enraged could immediately, by sacrifices and imprecations, destroy him with his troops, elephants, horses, and cars;” and in administering justice he “must not even form the idea of killing a priest,” even though he may have been “convicted of all possible crimes.” “He may be banished the realm, but it must be with all his property secure and his body unhurt,” for “no greater crime is known on earth than slaying a Brahmin.” While the Brahmin may thus be guilty of all imaginable atrocities without putting his life in danger, the law carefully throws its shield around him, and punishes the slightest insults offered to him by the infliction of barbarous tortures and mutilations. Should a Sudra address him in contumelious terms, “an iron style, ten fingers long, shall be thrust red hot into his mouth;” should he “insolently place himself on the same seat,” banishment is the mildest punishment that awaits him; “should he spit on him through pride, the king shall order both his lips to be gashed;” should he seize him by the locks, or other enumerated parts of his person, “let the king, without hesitation, cause incisions to be made in both his hands;” should he “through pride give instructions to priests concerning their duty, let the king order some hot oil to be dropped into his mouth and his ear.”
Such is a specimen of the penalties which the code of Menu provides for the slightest premeditated insults offered to a Brahmin. Legal penalties, however, are insufficient to heal his wounded dignity or satisfy his vengeance, and therefore, to make the punishment complete, sanctions of a different kind are put in requisition. In some cases where the offence proceeds from momentary impulse, or is of so trivial a nature that the law has not deigned to deal with it, expiation by penance may suffice, and hence, he “who says hush or pish to a Brahmin” may purge the offence by bathing immediately, eating nothing for the rest of the day, and appeasing him whom he has offended “by clasping his feet with respectful salutation.” In like manner, one offending a Brahmin by striking him, “even with a blade of grass,” or by “overpowering him in argument, and adding contemptuous words,” must “soothe him by falling prostrate.” It would seem, however, that from the refusal of the Brahmin, or some other cause, the offered reparation may prove unavailing, and hence we are elsewhere told that he who has smitten a Brahmin in anger and by design, even with a blade of grass, “shall be born in one-and-twenty transmigrations from the wombs of impure quadrupeds.” The crime may be committed, and a fearful penalty incurred, without actually smiting; for it is expressly declared that “a twice-born man,” that is, one belonging to any one of the three first classes, if he “barely assaults a Brahmin, with intention to hurt him, shall be whirled about for a century in the hell named Tumisra.” Should there be not merely an intent to hurt or kill, but actual striking, the punishment shall be extended to a thousand years; and should blood be shed, then “as many pellets of dust as the blood of a Brahmin collects on the ground, for so many thousand years must the shedder of that blood be tormented in hell.”
In the early age, when the Institutes of Menu were compiled, the Brahmin paid somewhat dearly for his honours by the strict discipline to which his whole life was subjected. Having been invested with the badge of his caste in his eighth, and, at all events, not later than his sixteenth year, he became a Brahmachari, or student in theology, took up his residence with a preceptor, and besides listening with the utmost deference to his instructions, spent a large part of every day in irksome observances, and even menial services. Among others, he behaved “to carry water-pots, flowers, cow-dung, fresh earth, and cusa grass, as much as may be useful to his preceptor;” to bring logs of wood from a distance, and with them “make an oblation to fire without remissness, both evening and morning,” and to seek his daily food “by begging, with due care from the houses of persons renowned for discharging their duties,” and where such houses could not be found, by “begging through the whole district round the village.” If so disposed he might pass his whole life in this manner, induced by the consideration that “that Brahmin who has dutifully attended his preceptor till the dissolution of his body, passes directly to the eternal mansion of God;” but, in general, regarding studentship merely as a probationary stage, he passed to a second, in which, provided his rules as a student had not been violated, he was permitted to “assume the order of a married man,” and “pass the second quarter of human life in his own house.” During this stage, devoting himself chiefly to the study of the Veda, and living “with no injury, or with the least possible injury to animated beings,” he might, “for the sole purpose of supporting life,” acquire property “by those irreproachable occupations which are peculiar to his class, and unattended with bodily pain.” Among the approved means of subsistence are enumerated gleaning, and gifts received, unasked, from worthy persons. Next in order are alms obtained by asking, and tillage, and last of all, traffic and money-lending, “but service for hire is named swavritti, or dog-living, and of course he must by all means avoid it.” In the latter part of this second stage, if the Brahmin “has paid, as the law directs, his debts to the sages, to the manes, and to the gods,” that is, according to commentators, if he has duly read the scripture, begotten a son, and performed regular sacrifices, “he may resign all to his son, and reside in his family house, with no employment but that of an umpire.”
The third stage of the Brahmin’s life arrives when he “perceives his muscles become flaccid, and his hair gray, and sees the child of his child.” He must now take up his consecrated fire, and the implements for making oblations to it, and departing from the town “repair to the lonely wood.” During the second stage, when he was a householder, mortification was rather the exception than the rule. He was never, if able to procure food, to “waste himself with hunger,” nor, possessing any substance, to “wear old or sordid clothes.” On the contrary, with his hair, nails, and beard clipped, his passions subdued, his mantle white, his body pure, a staff of venu, a ewer with water in it, a bunch of cusa grass, or a copy of the Veda, in his hand, and a pair of bright golden rings in his ears, he was diligently to occupy himself in reading the Veda, and be constantly intent on such acts as might be salutary to him. Now, however, when retired to the forest, he was to “wear a black antelope’s hide, or a vesture of bark,” to “let the hair of his head, his beard, and his nails to grow continually,” to eat “green herbs, flowers, roots, and fruits,” breaking “hard fruits with a stone,” or “letting his teeth serve as a pestle,” and to torture himself by various inflictions, such as standing a whole day on tiptoe, in the hot season sitting exposed to five fires—that is, as the commentators explain it, four blazing around him with the sun above—in the rainy season standing uncovered while the clouds pour down showers, and in the cold season wearing a humid vesture. This discipline having been increased gradually by harsher and harsher mortifications, so as to “dry up his bodily frame,” he concludes his third stage by living
PUNCH AGNEE, OR PENANCE OF FIVE FIRES.—From Bolnos’ “Sindhya,” or Daily Prayers of the Brahmins.
“without external fire, without a mansion, wholly silent, sleeping on the bare earth, in the haunts of pious hermits, without one selfish affection; dwelling at the roots of trees, and meditating especially on those chapters of the Veda which treat of the essence and attributes of God. Should these austerities, as is certainly not improbable, destroy his health and terminate in an incurable disease, the injunction is that he is to “advance in a straight path towards the invincible point, feeding on water and air, till his mortal frame totally decay, and his soul become united with the Supreme,” for, it is added, “a Brahmin having shuffled off his body by any of those modes which great sages practised, and becoming void of sorrow and fear, rises to exaltation in the divine essence.”
If the Brahmin survived the rigours of the forest life, he entered upon the fourth and last stage, in which, without quitting his solitude, he was to be exempted from all external observances, and spend his remaining years in preparing, by pious meditation, for absorption into the divine essence. “Delighted with meditating on the Supreme Spirit, sitting fixed in such meditation, without needing anything earthly, without one sensual desire, without any companion but his own soul, let him live in this world, seeking the bliss of the next.” “Let him not wish for death; let him not wish for life; let him expect his appointed time, as a hired servant expects his wages.” His body, described as “a mansion with bones for its rafters and beams; with nerves and tendons for cords; with muscles and blood for mortar; with skin for its outward covering—a mansion infested by age and by sorrow, the seat of malady, harassed with pains, haunted with the quality of darkness, and incapable of standing long,” let him cheerfully quit “as a tree leaves the bank of a river when it falls in, or as a bird leaves the branch of a tree at his pleasure.”
Such was the approved discipline of the Brahmin caste at the date of the Institutes of Menu, but many changes have been introduced by the lapse of time, and few if any individuals now profess to carry out that discipline in all its integrity. Any one of the four stages is now thought sufficient for a whole life; and the devotee selecting that which accords best with his own inclination, uses it as the means of founding a reputation for extraordinary sanctity; but the whole community pay no regard to the ancient regulations, and in practice at least hold them to be obsolete. To the privileges which separate them from other classes, and maintain their ascendency as an aristocracy, they still adhere; and to prevent intermixtures with inferior classes, repudiate marriage as illegal in cases in which it was originally sanctioned. It is no longer, however, deemed necessary to depend for subsistence on voluntary gifts or alms, and Brahmins are found in all trades and professions. Even service, stigmatized by Menu as dog-living, is not repudiated, except under circumstances where it is supposed to carry personal degradation along with it. The army, which is in some respects the most absolute and rigorous of all forms of service, is full of Brahmins; and agriculture, though necessarily requiring a large amount of that bodily labour which they are recommended to shun, is a favourite employment. Still, a decided preference is given to occupations in which intellectual rather than physical exertion is required. Teaching continues to be the most honourable source of income to those not actually deriving their maintenance from services connected with religion; and much of the business, public and private, which requires some degree of intellectual training, is in their hands.
This general adoption of secular employments naturally tends to detract from the sacred character with which the Brahmins were originally invested, and hence, it appears that in various parts of India, and more especially in Bengal, their influence as an hierarchy is impaired, and they have been to some extent superseded in their religious functions by various monastic orders, in which as a general rule all the distinctions of caste are ignored, and nothing but a common brotherhood is recognized, Brahmin and Sudra living together as members on a footing of perfect equality. Still, notwithstanding the formidable rivalry to which they are thus subjected, the Brahmins continue to insist on the superiority which their fabled origin is supposed to give them, and find a ready acquiescence in the great body of their countrymen, who not only look up to them with veneration, but would regard it as a species of sacrilege to call any of their privileges in question. Full advantage has been taken of this slavish temper, and the whole business of life has been so arranged as to make the presence, and consequently the payment of a Brahmin indispensable on almost every occasion. Hence multitudes of the privileged class manage to spend their days in luxurious idleness, maintained either by the rents of lands which have been alienated to form permanent endowments in their favour, or the countless offerings which pilgrims and other deluded votaries are constantly pouring into their treasury. Even where no formal service is rendered or expected, mere liberality to Brahmins is held so meritorious as to expiate the guilt of many offences, and large sums annually expended in feasting and otherwise entertaining them are thought to be amply recompensed by the honour which the presence of such guests confers, or the blessings temporal and spiritual which they have it in their power to bestow on those who befriend them. This extravagant deference to the Brahminical caste is sometimes manifested in ludicrous forms, and the water in which a Brahmin has dipped his toe, or the dust which has been gathered from his foot is not unfrequently set aside, and carefully preserved, under the idea that by such contact valuable properties have been conferred upon it.
Originally all Brahmins were, in accordance with their common origin, equal in privilege and dignity. Their superiority to the other classes was determined by the pre-eminence of that part of Brahma which produced them; but in regard to each other there were no primeval diversities on which claims of precedence could be founded. In course of time, however, this equality disappeared. Some individuals surpassing others in the qualities which were held in highest estimation were naturally looked up to as leaders, and became the founders of families, which boasting of their descent, considered themselves entitled to stand above the common level of their class. In this way all the usual distinctions of rank have been introduced, and the Brahmins, instead of continuing to form a single homogeneous class, have been broken up into numerous sections, which, if not actually hostile, differ so widely from each other, that they have no social intercourse. The first great distinction between Brahmins is of a religious nature. They are all under obligation to maintain a perpetual fire, but the great majority of them disregard the obligation, while the minority who perform it, pluming themselves on their superior sanctity, are distinguished by the name of Agnihotras. The next distinction is genealogical, and classes all Brahmins under the two great heads of Gaura and Dravira, each of them composed of five distinct races, and located respectively in Hindoostan and the Deccan. The five Gaura races, arranged according to the territories presumed to have been their original seats, stand thus:—1. Kanyakubja, or Canouje; 2. Saraswat, or the North-west of India; 3. Gaur, or Bengal; 4. Mithila, or North Behar; and 5. Utkala, or Orissa. Among the Draviras, in like manner, the whole of the Deccan, together with Gujarat, is parcelled out. Each of these races is again subdivided, and forms numerous ramifications, which it would be vain to attempt to trace. As a specimen it may suffice to mention that the Brahmins of Canouje alone count 156 distinct families.
In practice, the most important of all the distinctions at present subsisting amongst Brahmins is that of rank, which, in so far as regards those of Bengal, has the following fabulous origin ascribed to it:—A king of the name of Balal Sen, who reigned about six centuries ago, observing the strict fidelity of some Brahmins in performing the obligations of their class, and the comparative laxity or total neglect manifested by others, determined to give them rank corresponding to their merits, and with this view divided them into three orders. Those entitled to the first rank, and on this account distinguished by the name of Kulinas, or nobles, behaved to possess nine eminent qualifications. They were, first, to be strict in Brahminical observances; secondly, meek; thirdly, learned; fourthly, of good report; fifthly, frequenters of holy places; sixthly, repudiators of gifts from the impure; seventhly, without deceit; eighthly, addicted to devotional austerities; and, lastly, liberal. The second rank was assigned to those who, without possessing the qualifications of the first, had been regularly initiated into all the rites necessary to constitute a complete Brahmin, and were, moreover, well read in the Vedas. They were distinguished by the name of Shrotriyas. The third and lowest place was held, under the name of Vangshagas, by those who, though entitled to rank as Brahmins in respect of descent, had nothing else to recommend them.
If Balal Sen was right in the original selection of the Kulinas, there must have been a great and rapid degeneracy in their descendants; for the modern Kulinas, while as a body they still retain their precedence, are generally destitute of the qualifications by which their progenitors acquired it, and employ the influence and privileges of their rank, not in purifying, but in corrupting public morals. Placed, as it were, on the very pinnacle of society, and privileged on all occasions to occupy the seat of honour, they are naturally courted by all other ranks, and it becomes an object of the highest ambition to become connected with them by intermarriage. The Kulinas have managed to turn this feeling to good account. The more respectable of them disdain to make a traffic of affinity, and are generally contented with two wives; but the others are less scrupulous, and consider from fifteen to twenty as a moderate allowance. Forty to fifty is not uncommon, and Mr. Ward had heard of some who had 120. Were these wives taken to their husband’s house to form a harem, the injury to public morals though great would not assume its most malignant form; but the remarkable peculiarity is, that after the ceremony is performed, they continue to reside in the homes of their parents, and see their husbands, if at all, only at distant intervals. Even then the visit is only for etiquette, or it may be for some mercenary purpose. On such occasions the father of the wife is expected to make a present to the husband, who, mean enough to take advantage of the custom, makes his round of visits from house to house where each wife resides, and in this way gains a subsistence. It is easy to conceive how much licentiousness and crime such a system must engender. The woman tied for life to a man to whom she owes no affection, because she receives none, takes advantage of the freedom from restraint which the nominal relation confers, and not unfrequently, with the full knowledge of her parents, admits a paramour. When concealment becomes necessary, infanticide, or the crime which anticipates it, are the usual means adopted. Often, from another cause, where no marriage has taken place, similar atrocities prevail.
The Kulina is permitted by the rules of his order to give his son in marriage to the daughter of a Shrotriya, and often has little difficulty in finding fathers-in-law, who value the honour so highly as to be willing to pay largely for it. By a strange perversion he can marry his daughter only to a person of his own rank, and hence, as in many cases such husbands cannot be found, daughters are too often regarded as an incumbrance, and if not prematurely cut off by the crimes already referred to, are in thousands of instances left to seek a maintenance by the most infamous means. According to Mr. Ward, “the houses of ill-fame at Calcutta, and other large places, contain multitudes of the daughters of Kooleenu Bramhuns, so entirely degraded are these favourites of Bullalsanu!”
We have dwelt at some length on the Brahminical caste, not merely because it is the most important, but because it furnishes, both in theory and practice, a general model of the whole system. In treating of the other regular classes a few remarks will suffice. Indeed, if we are to believe the Brahmins, the Cshatriya and Vaisya, the only classes which, from the privileges possessed by them, could have been regarded as their rivals, have entirely disappeared. In the Institutes of Menu they hold a place which is distinctly marked, and are fully instructed in the peculiar duties and privileges belonging to them. The one was the representative of power, the other of wealth; and, though the Brahmin only could expound the Veda, both of them were entitled to read it, and to offer sacrifice. In regard to initiatory rites, too, the discipline to which they were subjected, if inferior to that of the Brahmins, bore a marked resemblance to it in its leading features. The ceremonies performed before birth were common to all the three classes; in due time, after birth, they all received the tonsure, and at a later period they had all the privilege of becoming dwija, or twice born, by being invested with the poita, or sacrificial thread. This thread, or rather triple cord, worn over the left shoulder, and, after crossing the back, tied into a knot under the right arm, is now regarded by Brahmins as their distinguishing badge, but was anciently common to them with the other two twice-born classes, the only difference being, that while that of a Brahmin was of cotton, that of a Cshatriya was of sana thread only, that of a Vaisya of woollen thread. The Brahmins, perhaps galled by the approach thus made to them by the two immediately inferior classes, have taken the most effectual means of suppressing them. The key of knowledge being exclusively in their hands, they have made it subservient to their own aggrandizement, by carefully preserving evidence sufficient to establish the purity of their own descent, while they have allowed that which would have been available for the same purpose to the Cshatriya and Vaisya as to perish. A great gap has thus been made in the social edifice. The intervening gradations having been destroyed, the Brahmin seated on the pinnacle seems to have attained a prouder elevation, while he looks down and sees nothing between him and the Sudra at its base.
The assertion that the classes of Cshatriyas and Vaisyas have become extinct by intermixtures which have destroyed their purity and reduced them all to the level of Sudras, has not been tamely acquiesced in. Some of the industrious classes still claim relation to the original Vaisyas; while the whole nation of Rajpoots strenuously insist that the military spirit for which they continue to be distinguished, has been transmitted to them by uninterrupted succession from those who first derived it from the arm of Brahma. In one respect, however, the Brahmins have prevailed. Perhaps, by way of compromise, those claiming to be pure Cshatriyas have contented themselves with maintaining only those of their privileges which are strictly military. Those of an intellectual and spiritual nature, which gave them access to the Vedas, they have tacitly resigned, and the Brahmins have in consequence gained all for which they were disposed to contend, by becoming not only the authorized expounders, but the sole depositories of all knowledge, human and divine.
The Sudras had less inducement than any of the other classes to guard the purity of their descent. They were, in fact, slaves, and having no privileges to maintain, must have been anxious only to escape from bondage. The existence of pure Sudras in the present day is therefore very questionable, though not only individual families in different parts of India, but the whole nation of the Mahrattas claim alliance with them. If the latter claim is correct they have not only overcome the disadvantages of their original position, but risen to be the founders of reigning dynasties. Nothing can be more humiliating than the terms applied to them throughout the Institutes of Menu. While “the first part of a Brahmin’s compound name should indicate holiness—of a Cshatriya’s, power—of a Vaisya’s, wealth,” that of a Sudra’s should only indicate “contempt.” He was to be excluded “from every sacred observance of the twice-born classes.” So full of pollution was he, that the very sight of him was to be carefully avoided when a youth of the twice-born classes was to be invested with the sacrificial cord; the Veda could not even be read while he was present; and the Brahmin who should presume to teach it to him committed an offence so heinous that it could only be expiated in hell. Though he had the power he was not to acquire wealth, “since a servile man who has amassed riches gives pain even to Brahmins.” This prohibition, in fact, was only adding insult to injury, for it elsewhere appears that the thing here forbidden was to him absolutely impossible, since a Brahmin might, without hesitation, seize the goods of his Sudra slave, inasmuch as “that slave can have no property.”
The same injustice and inhumanity are conspicuous in everything that concerns the Sudra. Even the possibility of ameliorating his condition is denied him, for it is expressly declared that “a Sudra, though emancipated by his master, is not released from a state of servitude; for of a state which is natural to him, by whom can he be divested?” This interminable bondage, however, has happily passed away, and the modern Sudra is no longer a slave. If in service, his master, even though a Brahmin, must pay him stipulated wages, and if he prefers a different mode of life other occupations are open to him. He may engage in agriculture, which seems to be regarded as his appropriate calling; if of a more martial temper he becomes a soldier; even intellectual employment is no longer beyond his reach, and individuals of his class, known by the name of Cayets, have long been successful rivals of the Brahmins in all kinds of business requiring the use of the pen.
Though the number of original castes was only four, it was impossible in the natural course of things that others should not be formed by intermarriages or less legitimate connections. The arrangements made for maintaining purity of descent, how minute soever they might be, could not provide for every imaginable case, and therefore even from the very first concessions were made, from which a mixture of castes necessarily followed. A Brahmin could only have the daughter of a Brahmin for his first wife, but he might choose to have a second. In that case a greater latitude was allowed, and a selection from either of the two next classes was held to be legitimate. In like manner a Cshatriya might marry a Vaisya, and a Vaisya a Sudra; but in these cases the offspring did not take the full rank of the father, but were held to be degraded to a middle rank between that of both parents. In regard to females the prohibitions were more rigid, for a woman could never marry beneath her own rank, and a low man making “love to a damsel of high birth” was to be punished corporally. Still, however severe the penalty, inclination and passion would often disregard it, and thus while even from legitimate connections degraded races were produced, others in almost endless variety resulted from connections which the law refused to recognize. “A Brahmin,” says Menu, “if he takes a Sudra to his bed, sinks to the regions of torment;” and a Braminí or female Brahmin cohabiting with a Sudra could give birth only to Chandalas, stigmatized as “the lowest of mortals.” Such connections, however, were in fact formed, and children were produced, who, in their turn, became the parents of “very many despicable and abject races, even more foul than their begetters.”
The variety of castes originating in these and similar connections has in course of time been almost indefinitely multiplied. At first difference of caste served only to indicate difference of race; but now, though this object is not overlooked, the great purpose which it serves is to regulate the kind of employment which each individual is destined to follow. To every caste a particular occupation is exclusively assigned; and thus, all trades and professions being regarded as hereditary, are transmitted without interruption from father to son in the same tribes or families. It is hence easy to see that the number of castes being as unlimited as that of the modes of employment, an enumeration of them is as difficult as it would be superfluous. Mr. Ward, speaking only of those of
Bengal, gives a detailed list of forty-one, and concludes by saying that more might be added. This is indeed perfectly obvious, as almost every name in the list is that of a genus including under it several subdivisions as species. For instance,
the Tatee caste, or weavers, forming the tenth in the list, and said to have originated from a male Sudra and a female Cshatriya, includes six divisions, which, notwithstanding their common progenitors, refuse either to eat or to intermarry with each other. In like manner we have castes with subdivisions under the names of Kasarees, or workers and dealers in brass; Agoorees, or farmers; Napitas, or barbers; Modakas, or confectioners; Kumbhakaras, or potters; Malakalas, or sellers of flowers, &c. All of these born to their trade must strictly adhere to it, however little they may be disposed to it by inclination or suited to it by capacity.
This system of caste, accompanied with hereditary occupation, may have the effect of securing superiority of workmanship. The whole mind being employed on one branch of trade, and not permitted to look beyond it, must in a manner concentrate its faculties so as to devise the best means of performing the appointed task, while the bodily powers constantly engaged in the same operation must, as in the ordinary case of a minute division of labour, attain to great mechanical skill. These advantages, however, poorly compensate for the numerous evils with which they are inseparably connected. The mechanical skill which an hereditary weaver acquires, and the beautiful fabric which he produces by means of a loom of the simplest and rudest structure, cannot be viewed without some degree of admiration; but how soon is that admiration turned into regret when it is considered that the same invariable routine has been followed for ages, and that improvement has not only not been attempted, but if attempted would have been fiercely and fanatically resisted. Every man’s boast is, that he does exactly as his father did before him; and thus amid a general stagnation of intellect, society is not permitted to take a single step in advance. There may be some truth in the observation, that if caste is unfavourable to progress it also tends to prevent degeneracy, and that hence, while other nations without caste have retrograded, India has maintained its ancient civilization. Dubois adopting this idea goes so far as to say, “I consider the institution of caste among the Hindu nations as the happiest effort of their legislation; and I am well convinced that if the people of India never sunk into a state of barbarism, and if, when almost all Asia was plunged in that dreary gulf, India kept up her head, preserved and extended the sciences, the arts, and civilization, it is wholly to the distinction of castes that she is indebted for that high celebrity.”[^1] Again, “I have found out no cause that can have prevented the Hindus from falling into the barbarous state in which all the nations bordering on them, as well as most others that are spread over the globe under the torrid zone remain, unless it be the division into castes, which, by assigning to every individual in the state his profession and employment, by perpetuating the system from father to son, from generation to generation, prevents the possibility of any member of the state or his descendants giving up the condition or pursuit which the law has assigned him for any other.”[^2] In this extravagant eulogy most readers will recognize the prejudices of the church to which Dubois belonged, and in which uniformity and perpetuity are too apt to be mistaken for perfection and infallibility. Mr. Ward, the Protestant missionary, spoke more wisely when he said, “The institution of the caste, so far from having contributed to the happiness of society, has been one of its greatest scourges. It is the formation of artificial orders, independently of merit or demerit, dooming nine-tenths of the people, before birth, to a state of mental and bodily degradation, in which they are for ever shut out from all the learning and honours of the country.”[^3]
It is impossible to believe that those doomed by the misfortune of their birth to the lowest castes can be satisfied with their social position, and yet it must be confessed that even in their estimation the loss of caste is the greatest calamity that could befall them. By every individual, high and low, the very idea of becoming an outcast is regarded with horror. It amounts in fact to civil death, and not unfrequently where the loss of caste has been incurred, actual death, by suicide, has been resorted to as a relief from the frightful consequences. Were the penalty inflicted as the punishment of crime, it might have operated as a kind of security for good behaviour, but unfortunately in the great majority of cases it is not crime that is thus punished, but acts perfectly innocent in themselves; acts, too, done, it may be, not of express design but unintentionally, through mere inadvertence, or perhaps through sheer necessity. “What,” asks Mr. Ward, “is the crime for which a person forfeits his caste, and becomes an exile and an outcast for ever? Perhaps he has been found eating with a virtuous friend; or he has married the woman of his choice; or he has resided in other countries on business, and has been compelled by the nature of his situation to eat food not cooked by persons of his own caste. For these, or other reasons, the caste proscribes him from his father’s house, and if his mother consent to talk with him, it must be by stealth, or at a distance from what was once his home, into which he must never more enter. Hence the caste converts hospitality, friendship, and the very love of one’s neighbour into crimes, and inflicts on the offender in some cases punishment worse than death itself.” It is true that the loss is not always final, and that by means of mummeries and mortifications, and more especially by a liberal expenditure in the form of gifts or bribes to those who have influence in the expelling caste, the offending member may be restored. Cases, however, occur which are deemed too heinous to admit of expiatory remedies. Among these it cannot be forgotten that an abandonment of the native superstitions holds a principal place, and consequently that it is impossible for a Hindoo to embrace Christianity without becoming a martyr in the highest sense of the term. The sacrifices he must make equal, if they do not exceed those which were required from the converts of the primitive church, and hence the distinction of caste has raised up an almost insuperable barrier in the way of the Christian missionary. The practical consequence is, that among the outcasts of Hindooism are to be found some of the noblest specimens of humanity—men whom no fear of temporal loss has deterred from throwing off the shackles of a degrading superstition, and making an open profession of the gospel. It must be confessed, however, that hitherto such specimens have been rare, and that the great majority of those who have lost caste justify, by their utter worthlessness, the sentence of exclusion which has been passed upon them. As a general rule, on being expelled from the society of their fellows, they lose all self-respect, and abandon themselves without restraint to every species of wickedness.