There is an aspect of the epic religion upon which it is necessary to touch before treating of the sectarian development. In the early philosophical period wise priests meet together to discuss theological and philosophical questions, often aided, and often brought to grief, by the wit of women disputants, who are freely admitted to hear and share in the discussion. When, however, pantheism, nay, even Vishnuism, or still more, Krishnaism, was an accepted fact upon what, then, was the wisdom of the priest expended? Apart from the epic, the best intellects of the day were occupied in researches, codifying laws, and solving, in rather dogmatic fashion, philosophical (theological) problems. The epic presents pictures of scenes which seem to be a reflection from an earlier day. But one sees often that the wisdom is commonplace, or even silly. In dialectics a sophistical subtlety is shown; in codifying moral rules, a tedious triteness; in amoebic passes of wit there are astounding exhibitions, in which the good scholiast sees treasures of wisdom, where a modern is obliged to take them in their literal dulness. Thus in III. 132. 18, a boy of twelve or ten (133. 16), who is divinely precocious, defeats the wise men in disputation at a sacrifice, and in the following section (134. 7 ff.) silences a disputant who is regarded as one of the cleverest priests. The conversation is recorded in full. In what does it consist? The opponent mentions a number of things which are one; the boy replies with a verse that gives pairs of things; the other mentions triads; the child cites groups of fours, etc., until the opponent, having cited only one half-verse of thirteens, can remember no more and stops, on which the child completes the verse, and is declared winner. The conundrums which precede must have been considered very witty, for they are repeated elsewhere: What is that wheel which has twelve parts and three hundred and sixty spokes, etc.? Year. What does not close its eye when asleep, what does not move when it is born, what has no heart, what increases by moving? These questions form one-half verse. The next half-verse gives the answers in order: fish, egg, stone, river. This wisdom in the form of puzzles and answers, brahmodya, is very old, and goes back to the Vedic period. Another good case in the epic is the demon Yaksha and the captured king, who is not freed till he answers certain questions correctly.[79] But although a certain amount of theologic lore may be gleaned from these questions, yet is it of greater interest to see how the priests discussed when left quietly to their own devices. And a very natural description of such a scene is extant. The priests "having some leisure"[80] or vacation from their labors in the king's house, sit down to argue, and the poet calls their discussion vita[n.][d.][=a], i.e., tricky sophistical argumentation, the description bearing out the justness of the phrase: "One cried, 'that is so,' and the other, 'it is not so'; one cried, 'and that is so,' and the other, 'it must be so'; and some by arguments made weak arguments strong, and strong weak; while some wise ones were always swooping down on their opponent's arguments, like hawks on meat."[81] In III. 2. 15, the type of clever priest is 'skilled in Yoga and S[=a][.n]khya,' who inculcates renunciation. This sage teaches that mental diseases are cured by Yoga; bodily, by medicine; and that desire is the root of ill.
But by far the most interesting theological discussion in the epic, if one except the Divine Song, is the conversation of the hero and heroine in regard to the cause of earthly happiness. This discussion is an old passage of the epic. The very fact that a woman is the disputant gives an archaic effect to the narration, and reminds one of the scenes in the Upanishads, where learned women cope successfully with men in displays of theological acumen. Furthermore, the theological position taken, the absence of Vishnuism, the appeal to the 'Creator' as the highest Power, take one back to a former age. The doctrine of special grace, which crops out in the Upanishads,[82] here receives its exposure by a sudden claim that the converse of the theory must also be true, viz., that to those not saved by grace and election God is as cruel as He is kind to the elect. The situation is as follows: The king and queen have been basely robbed of their kingdom, and are in exile. The queen urges the king to break the vow of exile that has been forced from him, and to take vengeance on their oppressors. The king, in reply, sings a song of forgiveness: "Forgiveness is virtue, sacrifice, Veda; forgiveness is holiness and truth; in the world of Brahm[=a] are the mansions of them that forgive." This song (III. 29. 36 ff.) only irritates the queen, who at once launches into the following interesting tirade (30. 1 ff.): "Reverence to the Creator and Disposer[83] who have confused thy mind! Hast thou not worshipped with salutation and honored the priests, gods, and manes? Hast thou not made horse-sacrifices, the r[=a]jas[=u]ya-sacrifice, sacrifices of every sort (pu[n.][d.]arika,[84] gosava)? Yet art thou in this miserable plight! Verily is it an old story (itih[=a]sa) that 'the worlds stand under the Lord's will.' Following the seed God gives good or ill in the case of all beings. Men are all moved by the divinity. Like a wooden doll, moving its limbs in the hands of a man, so do all creatures move in the Creator's hands. Man is like a bird on a string, like a bead on a cord. As a bull is led by the nose, so man follows the will of the Creator; he never is a creature of free will ([=a]tm[=a]dhina). Every man goes to heaven or to hell, as he is sent by the Lord's will. God himself, occupied with noble or with wicked acts, moves about among all created things, an unknown power (not known as 'this one'). The blessed God, who is self-created, the great forefather (prapit[=a]maha), plays with his creatures just as a boy plays with toys, putting them together and destroying them as he chooses. Not like a father is God to His creatures; He acts in anger. When I see the good distressed, the ignoble happy, I blame the Creator who permits this inequality. What reward does God get that he sends happiness to this sinful man (thy oppressor)? If it be true that only the individual that does the act is pursued by the fruit of that act (karma doctrine) then the Lord who has done this act is defiled by this base act of His. If, on the other hand, the act that one has done does not pursue and overtake the one that has done it, then the only agency on earth is brute force (this is the only power to be respected)—and I grieve for them that are without it!"
To this plea, which in its acknowledgment of the Creator as the highest god, no less than in its doubtful admission of the karma doctrine, is of peculiar interest, the king replies with a refutation no less worthy of regard: "Thy argument is good, clear and smooth, but it is heterodox (n[=a]stikyam). I have sacrificed and practiced virtue not for the sake of reward, but because it was right. I give what I ought to give, and sacrifice as I should. That is my only idea in connection with religious observances. There is no virtue in trying to milk virtue. Do not doubt. Do not be suspicious of virtue. He that doubts God or duty goes to hell (confusion), but he that does his duty and is free from doubt goes to heaven (becomes immortal). Doubt not scriptural authority. Duty is the saving ship. No other gets to heaven. Blame not the Lord Creator, who is the highest god. Through His grace the faithful gets immortality. If religious observances were without fruit the universe would go to destruction. People would not have been good for so many ages if there had been no reward for it. This is a mystery of the gods. The gods are full of mystery and illusion."
The queen, for all the world like that wise woman in the Upanishads, whose argument, as we showed in a preceding chapter, is cut short not by counter-argument, but by the threat that if she ask too much her head will fall off, recants her errors at this rebuke, and in the following section, which evidently is a later addition, takes back what she has said. Her new expression of belief she cites as the opinion of Brihaspati (32. 61, 62); but this is applicable rather to her first creed of doubt. Perhaps in the original version this authority was cited at the end of the first speech, and with the interpolation the reference is made to apply to this seer. Something like the queen's remarks is the doubtful saying of the king himself, as quoted elsewhere (III. 273. 6): "Time and fate, and what will be, this is the only Lord. How else could this distress have come upon my wife? For she has been virtuous always."
We turn now to the great sectarian gods, who eventually unite with Brahm[=a] to form a pantheistic trinity, a conception which, as we shall show, is not older than the fifth or sixth century after Christ.
* * * * *
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: The rival heresies seem also to belong to the East. There were thus more than half a dozen heretical bodies of importance agitating the region about Benares at the same time. Subsequently the Jains, who, as we have shown, were less estranged from Brahmanism, drifted westward, while the Buddhist stronghold remained in the East (both, of course, being represented in the South as well), and so, whereas Buddhism eventually retreated to Nep[=a]l and Tibet, the Jains are found in the very centres of old and new (sectarian) Brahmanism, Delhi, Mathur[=a], Jeypur, [=A]jm[=i]r.]
[Footnote 2: 'The wandering of R[=a]ma,' who is the sectarian representative of Vishnu.]
[Footnote 3: The 'Bh[=a]rata (tale)', sometimes called Mah[=a]-Bh[=a]rata, or Great Bh[=a]rata. The Vishnuite sectarianism here advocated is that of Krishna. But there is as much Çivaism in the poem as there is Vishnuism.]