To be explicit, I must recall to the reader’s mind the destination which the Brahmins assigned to the Egyptian pyramids, on hearing Wilford’s description of them—viz. that they were places appropriated to the worship of Padma-devi.[95] Before I proceed, however, I must state that I do not intend to make this the basis of what I shall designate my disclosures. It would be very foolish of me, if hoping to dislodge a world of long-established prejudice, to use, as my lever, a ray shot transversely from a volume which has been tarnished by forgery. I need no such aid, as the sequel will show; and yet were it requisite, no objection would be valid, as the “Pundit” could have had no motive, either of interest or of vanity, such as influenced his transcriptions, here to mislead his victim. It was the mere utterance of a casual opinion, without reference to any deduction. Besides it was not the statement of the knave at all, but that of a number of religious men of letters, who all agreed in the ascription above laid down. They spoke, no doubt, from some traditionary acquaintance with the use of those tall round buildings which so much baffle antiquarians, not more in Ireland than they do in Hindostan: but the explanation of this their answer will be a happy inlet—and as such only do I mean to employ it—to the illustration of what we have been so long labouring at.
The word Padma-devi[96] means “the deity of desire,” as instrumental in that principle of universal generativeness diffused throughout all nature. Do I mean that gross suggestion of carnal concupiscence?—that mere propensity of animal appetite which is common to man with the brute creation? No; it became redeemed, if not justified, by the religious complexion with which it was intertwined, derived, mayhap, originally from that paradisiacal precept which said, “increase and multiply”; while the strain of metaphor under which it was couched, and the spiritual tendency by which the ceremony was inculcated, prevented offence even to the most refined taste, the most susceptible fancy, or the most delicate sensibility.
The love of offspring has ever been a powerful ingredient in man’s composition. The fair portion of the human species, as every age and experience can prove, have shown themselves not more exempt from the control of the same emotions or the influence of the same impulses. It was so wisely instituted by the great Regulator of all things, nor is the abuse of the principle any argument against its general utility or sanctified intent. Search the records of all early States, and you will find the legislator and the priest, instead of opposing a principle so universally dominant, used their influence, on the contrary, to bring it more into play, and make its exercise subservient to the increase of our species; the law lent its aid to enforce the theme as national, and religion sanctified it as a moral obligation.
In India this fervor was particularly encouraged: for “as the Hindoos depend on their children for performing those ceremonies to their names, which they believe tend to mitigate punishment in a future state, they consider the being deprived of them as a severe misfortune and the sign of an offended God.”[97] They accordingly had recourse to all the stratagems which ingenuity could devise to recommend this passion to the inner senses, and dignify its nature by the studied imagery of metaphor and grace. In conformity with this sentiment we are favoured by Sir William Jones with the copy of a hymn, which they were in the habit of addressing to the above-mentioned “Padma-devi,” or “Mollium mater sæva cupidinum,” which he thus prefaces with her figurative descent:—
It is Camadeva, that is, the god of desire, the opposite sex he speaks of, but the principle is the same.
“Peor, his other name, when he enticed
Israel in Sittim, on their march from Nile,
To do him wanton rites, which cost them sore.”[98]
“According to the Hindu mythology, he was the son of Maya, or the general attracting power;[99] that he was married to Ritty, or Affection; and that his bosom friend is Vassant, or the Spring: that he is represented as a beautiful youth, sometimes conversing with his mother, or consort, in the midst of his gardens and temples; sometimes riding by moonlight on a parrot, and attended by dancing girls, or nymphs, the foremost of whom bears his colours, which are a fish on a red ground: that his favourite place of resort is a large tract of country round Agra, and principally the plain of Mathra, where Kreshen also, and the nine Gopia usually spend the night with music and dance: that his bow is of sugar-cane or flowers, the sting of bees, and his five arrows are each painted with an Indian blossom of an healing quality.” Tedious and diffuse as has been the dissertation already, I cannot resist the inclination of transcribing the hymn also.
“What potent god, from Agra’s orient bowers,
Floats through the lucid air; whilst living flowers,
With sunny twine, the vocal arbours wreathe,
And gales enamoured heavenly fragrance breathe?
Hail, Power unknown! for at thy beck
Vales and groves their bosoms deck,
And every laughing blossom dresses,
With gems of dew, his musky tresses.
I feel, I feel thy genial flame divine,
And hallow thee, and kiss thy shrine.
Knowest thou not me?—
Yes, son of Maya, yes, I know
Thy bloomy shafts and cany bow,
Thy scaly standard, thy mysterious arms,
And all thy pains and all thy charms.
Almighty Cama! or doth Smara bright,
Or proud Aranga, give thee more delight?
Whate’er thy seat, whate’er thy name,
Seas, earth, and air, thy reign proclaim;
All to thee their tribute bring,
And hail thee universal king.
Thy consort mild, Affection, ever true,
Graces thy side, her vest of glowing hue,
And in her train twelve blooming maids advance,
Touch golden strings and knit the mirthful dance.
Thy dreadful implements they bear,
And wave them in the scented air,
Each with pearls her neck adorning,
Brighter than the tears of morning.
Thy crimson ensign which before them flies,
Decks with new stars the sapphire skies.
God of the flowery shafts and flowery bow,
Delight of all above and all below!
Thy loved companion, constant from his birth
In heaven clep’d Vassant, and gay Spring on earth,
Weaves thy green robe, and flaunting bowers,
And from the clouds draws balmy showers,
He with fresh arrows fills thy quiver,
(Sweet the gift, and sweet the giver,)
And bids the various warbling throng
Burst the pent blossoms with their song.
He bends the luscious cane, and twists the string,
With bees how sweet! but ah, how keen their sting!
He with fine flowrets tips thy ruthless darts,
Which through five senses pierce enraptured hearts.
Strong Champa, rich in od’rous gold,
Warm Amer, nursed in heavenly mould,
Dry Nagkezer, in silver smiling,
Hot Kiticum, our sense beguiling,
And last, to kindle fierce the scorching flame,
Loveshaft, which gods bright Bela name.
Can men resist thy power, when Krishen yields,
Krishen, who still in Mathra’s holy fields,
Tunes harps immortal, and to strains divine,
Dances by moonlight with the Gopia nine?
Oh! thou for ages born, yet ever young,
For ages may thy Bramin’s lay be sung;
And when thy Lory spreads his emerald wings,
To waft thee high above the tower of kings,
Whilst o’er thy throne the moon’s pale light
Pours her soft radiance through the night,
And to each floating cloud discovers
The haunts of blest or joyless lovers,
Thy milder influence to thy bard impart,
To warm, but not consume his heart.”
Amongst the fables that are told to account for the origin of this amorous devotion, Sir William tells us, is the following, viz.:—
“Certain devotees in a remote time had acquired great renown and respect; but the purity of the art was wanting; nor did their motives and secret thoughts correspond with their professions and exterior conduct. They affected poverty, but were attached to the things of this world, and the princes and nobles were constantly sending them offerings. They seemed to sequester themselves from the world; they lived retired from the towns; but their dwellings were commodious, and their women numerous and handsome. But nothing can be hid from the gods, and Sheevah resolved to expose them to shame. He desired Prakeety[100] to accompany him; and assumed the appearance of a Pandaram of a graceful form. Prakeety appeared as herself a damsel of matchless beauty. She went where the devotees were assembled with their disciples, waiting the rising sun to perform their ablutions[101] and religious ceremonies. As she advanced the refreshing breeze moved her flowing robe, showing the exquisite shape which it seemed intended to conceal. With eyes cast down, though sometimes opening with a timid but a tender look, she approached them, and with a low enchanting voice desired to be admitted to the sacrifice. The devotees gazed on her with astonishment. The sun appeared, but the purifications were forgotten; the things of the Poojah[102] lay neglected; nor was any worship thought of but that to her. Quitting the gravity of their manners, they gathered round her as flies round the lamp at night, attracted by its splendour, but consumed by its flame. They asked from whence she came; whither she was going? ‘Be not offended with us for approaching thee; forgive us for our importunities. But thou art incapable of anger, thou who art made to convey bliss; to thee, who mayest kill by indifference, indignation and resentment are unknown. But whoever thou mayest be, whatever motive or accident may have brought thee amongst us, admit us into the number of thy slaves; let us at least have the comfort to behold thee.’