He is quite content to commit his interests in a future life to the care and custody of the Brāhmans; while, if he thinks about the nature of a Supreme Being at all, he assumes His benevolence and expects His good will as a matter of course.
What he really troubles himself about is the necessity for securing the present favour of the inhabitants of the unseen world, supposed to occupy the atmosphere everywhere around him—of the good and evil demons and spirits of the soil—generally represented by rude and grotesque images, and artfully identified by village priests and Brāhmans with alleged forms of Vishṇu or Ṡiva.
It follows that the mind of the ordinary Hindū, though indifferent about all definite dogmatic religion, is steeped in the kind of religiousness best expressed by the word δεισιδαιμονία. He lives in perpetual dread of invisible beings who are thought to be exerting their mysterious influences above, below, around, in the immediate vicinity of his own dwelling. The very winds which sweep across his homestead are believed to swarm with spirits, who unless duly propitiated will blight the produce of his fields, or bring down upon him injury, disease, and death.
Then again, besides the orthodox and besides the sectarian Hindū and besides the great demon-worshipping, idolatrous, and superstitious majority, another class of the Indian community must also be taken into account—the class of rationalists and free-thinkers. These have been common in India from the earliest times.
First came a class of conscientious doubters, who strove to solve the riddle of life by microscopic self-introspection and sincere searchings after truth, and these did their best not to break with the Veda, Vedic revelation, and the authority of the Brāhmans.
Earnestly and reverently such men applied themselves to the difficult task of trying to answer such questions as—What am I? Whence have I come? Whither am I going? How can I explain my consciousness of personal existence? Have I an immaterial spirit distinct from, and independent of, my material frame? Of what nature is the world in which I find myself? Did an all-powerful Being create it out of nothing? or did it evolve itself out of an eternal protoplasmic germ? or did it come together by the combination of eternal atoms? or is it a mere illusion? If created by a Being of infinite wisdom and love, how can I account for the co-existence in it of good and evil, happiness and misery? Has the Creator form, or is He formless? Has He qualities and affections, or has He none?
It was in the effort to solve such insoluble enigmas by their own unaided intuitions and in a manner not too subversive of traditional dogma, that the systems of philosophy founded on the Upanishads originated.
These have been described in my book on Brāhmanism. They were gradually excogitated by independent thinkers, who claimed to be Brāhmans or twice-born men, and nominally accepted the Veda with its Brāhmaṇas, while they covertly attacked it, or at least abstained from denouncing it as absolutely untrue. Such men tacitly submitted to sacerdotal authority, though they really propounded a way of salvation based entirely on self-evolved knowledge, and quite independent of all Vedic sacrifices and sacrificing priests. The most noteworthy and orthodox of the systems propounded by them was the Vedānta[5], which, as I have shown, was simply spiritual Pantheism, and asserted that the one Spirit was the only real Being in the Universe.
But the origin of the more unorthodox systems, which denied the authority of both the Veda and the Brāhmans, must also be traced to the influence of the Upanishads. For it is undeniable that a spirit of atheistic infidelity grew up in India almost pari passu with dogmatic Brāhmanism, and has always been prevalent there. In fact it would be easy to show that periodical outbursts of unbelief and agnosticism have taken place in India very much in the same way as in Europe; but the tendency to run into extremes has always been greater on Indian soil and beneath the glow and glamour of Eastern skies. On the one side, a far more unthinking respect than in any other country has been paid to the authority of priests, who have declared their supernatural revelation to be the very breath of God, sacrificial rites to be the sole instruments of salvation, and themselves the sole mediators between earth and heaven; on the other, far greater latitude than in any other country has been conceded to infidels and atheists who have poured contempt on all sacerdotal dogmas, have denied all supernatural revelation, have made no secret of their disbelief in a personal God, and have maintained that even if a Supreme Being and a spiritual world exist they are unknowable by man and beyond the cognizance of his faculties.
We learn indeed from certain passages of the Veda (Ṛig-veda II. 12. 5; VIII. 100. 3, 4) that even in the Vedic age some denied the existence of the god Indra.