Dyaus' son, Indra, who rides upon the storm and hurls the lightnings with his hands; who 'crashes down from heaven' and 'destroys the strongholds' of heaven and earth; whose greatness 'fills heaven and earth'; whose 'steeds are of red and gold'; who 'speaks in thunder,' and 'is born of waters and cloud'; behind whom ride the storm-gods; with whom Agni (fire) is inseparably connected; who 'frees the waters of heaven from the demon,' and 'gives rain-blessings and wealth' to man—such a god, granted the necessity of a naturalistic interpretation, may well be thought to have been lightning itself originally, which the hymns now represent the god as carrying. But in identifying Indra with the sun there is more difficulty. In none of the early hymns is this suggested, and the texts on which Bergaigne relies besides being late are not always conclusive. "Indra clothes himself with the glory of the sun"; he "sees with the eye of the sun"—such texts prove little when one remembers that the sun is the eye of all the gods, and that to clothe ones' self with solar glory is far from being one with the sun. In one other, albeit a late verse, the expression 'Indra, a sun,' is used; and, relying on such texts, Bergaigne claims that Indra is the sun. But it is evident that this is but one of many passages where Indra by implication is compared to the sun; and comparisons do not indicate allotropy. So, in ii. II. 20, which Bergaigne gives as a parallel, the words say expressly "Indra [did so and so] like a sun."[4] To rest a building so important on a basis so frail is fortunately rare with Bergaigne. It happens here because he is arguing from the assumption that Indra primitively was a general luminary. Hence, instead of building up Indra from early texts, he claims a few late phrases as precious confirmation of his theory.[5] What was Indra may be seen by comparing a few citations such as might easily be amplified from every book in the Rig Veda.
According to the varying fancies of the poets, Indra is armed with stones, clubs, arrows, or the thunderbolt (made for him by the artificer, Tvashtar), of brass or of gold, with many edges and points. Upon a golden chariot he rides to battle, driving two or many red or yellow steeds; he is like the sun in brilliancy, and like the dawn in beauty; he is multiform, and cannot really be described; his divine name is secret; in appearance he is vigorous, huge; he is wise and true and kind; all treasures are his, and he is a wealth-holder, vast as four seas; neither his greatness nor his generosity can be comprehended; mightiest of gods is he, filling the universe; the heavens rest upon his head; earth cannot hold him; earth and heaven tremble at his breath; he is king of all; the mountains are to him as valleys; he goes forth a bull, raging, and rushes through the air, whirling up the dust; he breaks open the rain-containing clouds, and lets the rain pour down; as the Açvins restore the light, so he restores the rain; he is (like) fire born in three places; as the giver of rain which feeds, he creates the plants; he restores or begets Sun and Dawn (after the storm has passed);[6] he creates (in the same way) all things, even heaven and earth; he is associated with Vishnu and P[=u]shan (the sun-gods), with the Açvins, with the Maruts (storm-gods) as his especial followers, and with the artisan Ribhus. With Varuna he is an Adityá, but he is also associated with another group of gods, the Vasus (x. 66. 3), as Vasupati, or 'lord of the Vasus.' He goes with many forms (vi. 47. 18).[7]
The luminous character[8] of Indra, which has caused him to be identified with light-gods, can be understood only when one remembers that in India the rainy season is ushered in by such displays of lightning that the heavens are often illuminated in every direction at once; and not with a succession of flashes, but with contemporaneous ubiquitous sheets of light, so that it appears as if on all sides of the sky there was one lining of united dazzling flame. When it is said that Indra 'placed light in light,' one is not to understand, with Bergaigne, that Indra is identical with the sun, but that in day (light) Indra puts lightning (x. 54. 6; Bergaigne ii. p. 187).
Since Indra's lightning[9] is a form of fire, there is found in this union the first mystic dualism of two distinct gods as one. This comes out more in Agni-worship than in Indra-worship, and will be treated below. The snake or dragon killed by Indra is Vritra, the restrainer, who catches and keeps in the clouds the rain that is falling to earth. He often is called simply the snake, and as the Budhnya Snake, or snake of the cloud-depths, is possibly the Python (=Budh-nya).[10] There is here a touch of primitive belief in an old enemy of man—the serpent! But the Budhnya Snake has been developed in opposite ways, and has contradictory functions.[11]
Indra, however, is no more the lightning than he is the sun. One poet says that he is like the sun;[12] another, that he is like the lightning (viii. 93. 9), which he carries in his arms (viii. 12. 7); another, that he is like the light of dawn (x. 89. 12). So various are the activities, so many the phenomena, that with him first the seer is obliged to look back of all these phenomena and find in them one person; and thus he is the most anthropomorphized of the Vedic gods. He is born of heaven or born of clouds (iv. 18), but that his mother is Aditi is not certain. As the most powerful god Indra is again regarded as the All-god (viii. 98. 1-2). With this final supremacy, that distinction between battle-gods and gods sovereign, which Bergaigne insists upon—the sovereign gods belonging to une conception unitaire de l'ordre du monde (iii. p. 3; ii. p. 167)—fades away. As Varuna became gradually greatest, so did Indra in turn. But Varuna was a philosopher's god, not a warrior's; and Varuna was not double and mystical. So even the priest (Agni) leaves Varuna, and with the warrior takes more pleasure in his twin Indra; of him making an All-god, a greatest god. Varuna is passive; Indra is energetic; but Indra does not struggle for his lordship. Inspired by soma, he smites, triumphs, punishes. Victor already, he descends upon his enemies and with a blow destroys them. It is rarely that he feels the effect of battle; he never doubts its issue.
There is evidence that this supremacy was not gained without contradiction, and the novelty of the last extravagant Indra-worship may be deduced, perhaps, from such passages as viii. 96. 15; and 100. 3, where are expressed doubts in regard to the existence of a real Indra. How late is the worship of the popular Indra, and that it is not originality that causes his hymns to be placed early in each collection, may be judged from the fact that only of Indra (and Agni?) are there idols: viii. 1. 5; iv. 24. 10: "Who gives ten cows for my Indra? When he has slain his foe let (the purchaser) give him to me again."[13] Thus it happens that one rarely finds such poems to Indra as to Dawn and to other earlier deities, but almost always stereotyped descriptions of prowess, and mechanical invitations to come to the altar and reward the hymn-maker. There are few of Indra's many hymns that do not smack of soma and sacrifice. He is a warrior's god exploited by priests; as popularly conceived, a sensual giant, friend, brother, helper of man. One example of poetry, instead of ritualistic verse-making to Indra, has been translated in the introductory chapter. Another, which, if not very inspiring, is at least free from obvious soma-worship—which results in Indra being invoked chiefly to come and drink—is as follows (vi. 30):
Great hath he grown, Indra, for deeds heroic;
Ageless is he alone, alone gives riches;
Beyond the heaven and earth hath Indra stretched him,
The half of him against both worlds together!
So high and great I deem his godly nature;
What he hath stablished there is none impairs it.
Day after day a sun is he conspicuous,
And, wisely strong, divides the wide dominions.
To-day and now (thou makest) the work of rivers,
In that, O Indra, thou hast hewn them pathway.
The hills have bowed them down as were they comrades;
By thee, O wisely strong, are spaces fastened.
'Tis true, like thee, O Indra, is no other,
Nor god nor mortal is more venerable.
Thou slew'st the dragon that the flood encompassed,
Thou didst let out the waters to the ocean.
Thou didst the waters free, the doors wide opening,
Thou, Indra, brak'st the stronghold of the mountains,
Becamest king of all that goes and moveth,
Begetting sun and heaven and dawn together.
THE MARUTS.
These gods, the constant followers of Indra, from the present point of view are not of great importance, except as showing an unadulterated type of nature-gods, worshipped without much esoteric wisdom (although there is a certain amount of mystery in connection with their birth). There is something of the same pleasure in singing to them as is discernible in the hymns to Dawn. They are the real storm-gods, following Rudra, their father, and accompanying the great storm-bringer, Indra. Their mother is the variegated cow Priçni, the mother cloud. Their name means the shining, gleaming ones.
HYMN TO THE MARUTS (vii. 56. 1-10).