Voyage to the East Indies

I.

“Young, delicate, female papagay[203]! Thou joy and delight of mankind! Relate, O relate the noble deeds of the god Krishna! Enliven our hearts by thy song! and banish every care which distracts our minds, in order that it may flee from us!”

II.

“Behold, beautiful little bird! when thou hast related to us these noble deeds, we will boil for thee milk, add to it sugar and bananas, and prepare for thee a noble meal. Compose thyself, then, and begin thy relation.”

III.

“Thou will’st not? Canst thou no more remember those times when Krishna ascended the chariot of Argiuna? the hero begotten by the God of gods, the Prince of heaven. Relate to us, O songstress! those actions, in order that our inflamed hearts may be fitted for devotion, for holiness of life, and the enjoyment of felicity.”

IV.

“The giants, a horrid race, endowed with irresistible strength, immediately after their birth became exceedingly arrogant, and exercised the most detestable violence. They made themselves masters of the globe; and the earth groaned under their insupportable burden. To combat and extirpate them a god appeared. It was the Supreme God, the god Krishna, who took the field against them.”

This poem has great beauties; the versification is smooth, easy, harmonious, and lively; and expresses, as it were, the march of an army. The first verse, in each strophe, consists of eighteen syllables or feet, which are called Pada. The second verse has always twelve such Pada. The melody to this song is rather quick than slow; and holds a medium between the alt and bass. The tone always lies on the first syllable of the three or four first words with which the verse begins; and, altogether contrary to the European manner, never on the final words. In the Samscred song, which occurs hereafter, each verse consists of fifteen Pada. There are, however, other kinds of verse, the quantity of which is sometimes longer. For example:

The first of these two verses contains fifteen, and the other only fourteen syllables. The metre is called Parra, and not Porb, as Anquetil du Perron asserts. It serves as a proof that our so-called Leonine verses, which rhyme in the middle and at the end, are not unknown to the Indians. Their public songs are always sung with an instrumental accompaniment. Their singing voices, of which they reckon six, have very singular names, and are as follows:

1. Shlagia, the peacock voice.

2. Nishada, the elephant voice.

3. Irszubha, the ox voice.

4. Sandhara, the sheep’s voice.

5. Madhyama, the voice of a certain bird called Anilpakshi.

6. Dheivada, the horse voice[204].

The instruments which they use with their vocal music are the large drum, Perumpara; the small drum, Tudi; two clarinets, Kushel; a kettle-drum beat upon with pieces of iron; two copper or brass basons, and a couple of cow’s horns. During the song they frequently clap their hands; often change their tone and voice, according as the circumstance may require; sing sometimes in piano, and sometimes forte; and either let the tone issue through the nose, or force it out between their teeth with the greatest violence, and by quick and repeated clapping with the tongue. All this gives it the character of a Bacchanalian and warlike music, which imitates the noise made by people who are engaged in battle. Their pastoral songs, on the other hand, are full of soft and tender expressions, and have in them somewhat languishing[205]. They describe the kind of life which the god Krishna led as a shepherd during his residence on earth; but the former celebrate either the god Rama as a hero, or describe the actions performed by Krishna, in the war which he carried on in conjunction with the five brothers, Pando or Pandava, against their relations the Cauravas. The wars of Rama are described in the epic poem Ramayana, which is highly esteemed in every part of India. The description of the heroic deeds of Krishna is contained in the book Yudhishtira-vigea, a poem in the Samscred language, on which the Indians set a great value also. The subject of the latter, a particular explanation of which may be found in my account of the Borgian manuscripts, is briefly as follows:

The Indian king Pandu, of the race of those who deduced their origin from the Sun, had five sons, called Yudhishtira, Bhìma or Bhimasèna, Argiuna, Naghala, and Sahadeva. These five brothers, who are known under the name of Pando or Pandava, had their court at Kanudi, or Hastinapuri. The inhabitants of that district are mentioned in Arrian under the appellation of Assaceni, or Astaceni, and act a very conspicuous part in the Grecian as well as Indian history. The period of their existence falls about the time when Semiramis ruled over the Assyrians. These five Pando were expelled from their possessions by their cousins the Curu, or Caurava, who together formed a hundred brothers, and who behaved to them with great cruelty. While they were wandering about as fugitives, Krishna, or the Indian Apollo, appeared to them; declared himself their protector and fought a desperate battle with the two principal leaders of the Caurava, who were called Suyodhana, or Duryodhana, and Karna. When he had overcome them, he restored to the Pando the possessions taken from them. Such is the subject of this beautiful poem. The sixth part of the manuscript, which I have now in my hands, contains 125 shloga; and the whole consists of eight such parts. The Samscred text is exceedingly difficult; and it requires great knowledge of that language to be able to understand it completely. The best helps for that purpose are the grammar; the dictionary Amarasinha, and the perusal of some other poems; but as there are a few only among the Brahmans who study such works, it is rare to find any of them who comprehend the true meaning of these shloga. It is certain, however, that the Yudhishtira-vigea appears to be a poem of great antiquity. It does not make the least mention of the worshipping of human figures and idols; for this kind of superstition was certainly posterior to the introduction of the planetary worship, and had its origin about 700 years before the birth of Christ. Prior to that epoch, Sabæism was the prevailing religion in India. For this reason no other deities occur in the Yudhishtira, but Shiva and Parvadi; that is, the god of the Sun, and the goddess of the Moon; and no other offerings than fruit or flowers, which were presented to these deities.

Besides this poem there are three others, called Ràmàyana, Magha, and Bhagavada, to which it has some affinity. They were all originally written in the Samscred language; but in various provinces they have been translated into the usual dialects of the country. The Bhagavada, which Niebuhr, in the second part of his Travels, calls Sri baha gavant poram, instead of Shri Bhagavada puràna, is so highly esteemed by the Indians, that when any one repeats a few verses to them from it, they immediately stand up and uncover their heads. On this subject I can relate the following anecdote from my own experience.—In the year 1787 I was obliged to appear before the tribunal of the king of Travancor, respecting an affair between me and four of his magistrates, who wished to compel me not to baptise any more Pagans. During this litigation, Sampradi thought proper to put me to the test respecting my knowledge of the languages. I repeated to him the four first verses of the above-mentioned Bhagavada; upon which the three magistrates, with all their assistants, rose up, gazed at me with every mark of astonishment, and treated me with much more civility than before. I gained my cause; and can with truth assert, that these four verses of the Bhagavada, which I have explained in my Samscred grammar, chiefly contributed to the fortunate issue of the business. I had once an opportunity of making a similar observation at Vaipur. Having gone to that place with a view of examining into the state of the church accounts, I was one day invited to dinner by a Mapulla, or Christian of St. Thomas. Some of this man’s neighbours, of the same religion, had spread a report among the inhabitants that I understood the Samscred; upon which I received a visit from two learned Pagans, who were desirous of trying how far my knowledge extended. I caused them to sit down, after the Malabar manner, on a small bench; and when they had repeated to me a great many verses from various poems, I began to recite the above lines from the Bhagavada. Scarcely had I pronounced the first words, when they started from their seats, uncovered their heads, and laid the right hand on their mouth, in order to shew their veneration for that book. By these means I acquired so much reputation among the Pagans, that on every occasion they treated me with the utmost respect.

There are also in India a great many dramatic pieces, which are really acted, and of which the Tamulians and natives of Malabar are remarkably fond. This taste is carried so far, that the newly-converted Christians represent sometimes, before the doors of the churches, pieces of this kind, in which the actions of the Pagan deities are exhibited. The apostolic vicar and archbishop of Codungalur, or Cranganor, finds himself, therefore, under the disagreeable necessity of issuing a new order every year against such improper amusements[206]. Some of these dramatic poems are at least 2000 years old; as I could prove from the subject and composition of them. Of this kind is the poem Sacontala, which has been translated into English by Sir William Jones[207]. In Malabar there are also other dramatic poems highly esteemed, the most remarkable of which are the Sharnishta, Devayàni, and Calàbadì. Of the latter I shall here insert a few specimens, that the reader may at least see what liberties the Pagan theatrical poets allowed to themselves in their writings.

“King Dàsharda afterwards celebrated in a public manner his marriage with the beautiful Calàbadi, the virgin-daughter of king Káshi (or of Benares), who was distinguished not only by her remarkable beauty, but also by her virtue and modesty.”

“When queen Calàbadi entered the apartment of this rich and powerful monarch, and when the king observed that she excelled in beauty all the princesses present, a desire was awaked in him of embracing her as his spouse. He addressed her, therefore, in the words of love, and said:”

“Come, O come, thou fortunate, thou beautiful bride! why are thy virtuous cheeks covered with the blushes of modesty?—On these words of the king, Calàbadi began to quiver and shake; and was not able to return him an answer.”

“The king hastened towards her, laid hold of her hand, and kissed this precious jewel without waiting for her permission. But ah! as iron becomes glowing when it has lain a long time in the fire, so glowing and hot became the body of the bride.”

“Tell me, benign countenance, why thou burnest, why thou glowest: tell me the cause of this fire. Has the full moon concentrated all its rays in thy body? When I touch thee, it appears to me as if I were about to melt.”

Ciannanam tannilninu vàhni yennadupòle

Sunari ninghelninnu Ciùdinendadò bandham.

“Tell me, thou most beautiful of the beautiful, why thy body burns so, why it is so hot, and at the same time emits an odour as delicious as sandalwood when it is consumed by the fire.”

Inganeyulla vàku Kettapol còbatòdu

Anganà manni paragnìdinàl nrbanòdu

Aadi Càlame cennu sahasam pravarticiàl

Kèdamundàgum bàla strìguelka dharica nì.

When the enchanting Calàbadi heard these words, not without considerable agitation of mind, she said to the king: “Know, O my Lord, that it grieves and pains a young tender maid when she is about to subject herself, for the first time, to the embraces of a man.”

Onnumè nirbhandiciu vannatu taramalla

Mannava Shigha manne anga pòvirnnàlum

Sangamàgraham inikundàgum nèrattu gnàn

Angu vannannugula kriddayum ceidìduven.

“O King, my spouse! noblest jewel of my crown! remove from me, and seat thyself in a distant place. Do not again surprise my inclination; when Nature prompts, I will voluntarily obey her soft impulse, and resign myself to thee as thy property.”

Angalànanam còndum ishda dànanguel còndum

Manganmàrude manò ragnam varuttenam

Nalla vàkuguel condu nanaciu tannupiciu

Vollabhen shubhaguennullatu tonnikenam

Mallave vashattay tìrum à càlam pinne

Valladu prayoguiciàlapriam illàdàgum.

“It is only by politeness, sportfulness, and agreeable presents, that the inclination of a young maid can be captivated. A lover must employ sweet words: the long restrained and involuntary tears must trickle down his cheeks. When his beloved then perceives that he is magnanimous and kind; when he has insensibly secured her approbation; then—then, without doubt, no part of his conduct can give her offence.”

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All these verses consist of fourteen feet, and are sung in a soft recitative tone. But however some may attempt to vindicate the liberties used by these theatrical poets, it is an undoubted truth that they have a very pernicious influence on the morals. To guard against this destructive effect, the Christians of St. Thomas have been here and there induced to convert some of the historical parts of the Bible into dramas, and to represent them on the stage. Alangatta Capiar, and the catechumen Rama Nayer, who died while I was in India, have distinguished themselves with great advantage in this kind of composition.

The music and songs employed before the Heathen temples form a part of the Indian legislation, so far as the object of them is to render the people obedient, and to inspire them with a love for their country and for religion. The case was the same, in ancient times, with the music of the Greeks[208]. When it became gradually lost; when it was employed only for private devotions; and when the whole host of poets began, by their lascivious compositions, to sap the foundations of morality, and to corrupt the morals, the Grecian governments fell to ruin. To guard against a like evil, the Indian legislators have established as a law, that, on public festivals, and other solemn occasions, the actions of their gods only, which are described in their sacred books, can be exhibited on the stage. These, however, are of such a nature that they give great offence to the newly-converted Christians, who are not sufficiently attached to the principles of their belief[209].

The gamut, the notes of which we distinguish by Re, mi, fa, sol, la, is by the Indians called Shabdasvara, and consists of eight notes. They are called Sa, ri, ga, ma, pa, da, ni, sha. From this it appears, that the Indians were by no means such rude barbarians as the Greeks pretended[210].

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Respecting the Indian architecture, I have already given a sufficient account in different places of this work, but particularly in the eighth chapter. I must, however, here add a few observations respecting the form of their pagodas. These temples, their external inclosure excepted, are built either in a conical and pyramidal form, or cylindric and round. Both these forms have a symbolic allusion to that of Mahadèva, the great god; or, what amounts to the same thing, the Sun. Reuben Burrow once saw a truncated cylinder standing on a cone, which represented the Lingam of Mahadèva. It was sixty-four feet in diameter, and sixty-five in height. The cone, its pedestal, was ninety-three feet in height, and its diameter at the base was 363. The same form is observed in other Indian buildings, particularly the ancient pagodas, dedicated to Mahadèva, in Carnada, and on the coast of Coromandel. The pagodas at Màbalipuram, Salsette, and the island of Elephanta, together with a few others which are cut out in the solid rock, form however an exception. I consider the latter to have been temples dedicated in former times to Mithra, who was worshipped not only in Persia, but also in India. Some pyramidal temples, such as that at Pondicherry, form at the summit a blunt or obtuse angle, yet represent fire, or the Lingam of Shiva, the oldest of all the gods of the Indians, the Egyptians, the Phoenicians, and the Persians.

The greater part, or rather almost all the pagodas on the coast of Coromandel, are built of large square stones, so arranged and connected that they form a pyramid. Those seen on the coast of Malabar consist of black basaltes, found in the Gauts; which is exceedingly hard, and very proper for building[211]. They are, for the most part, circular, and covered with plates of copper, as those at Padmanàburam, Molicolam, Tirumannur, and Certele. Some of them, however, are square, as that at Mattinceri, which is called Tirumala Dèvasam; that also at Ciovare, and two others. The front and doors of these pagodas are either of marble or basaltes, and ornamented with figures of various kinds, which have a symbolical meaning, and represent the Vahana, or riding animals of the gods. On the front of a temple at Tirapalur there are two cows cut out, of a colossal size. On some the god Hanumàn, or Pan, is represented under the form of an ape; and on others Shiva, who is exhibited in a form altogether horrid and frightful. Between these pieces of sculpture and that of the Greeks no comparison can be made; but they at any rate deserve to be preferred to the shapeless statues of the Egyptians. It is seen by them that they are finished in an original Indian style, which is very different from the Grecian or the Egyptian. I am induced, therefore, to conjecture, that the art of constructing such works was conveyed to this country neither from Egypt nor Greece. Thus the deities Shiva, Ràma, Parvadi, &c. are represented in the pagodas at Salsette, Mabalipuram, and in the island of Elephanta, as men perfectly naked, who have nothing on their bodies but a small piece of cloth to cover their parts of sex. Their arms and fingers are ornamented with bracelets and rings, and around their ancles they have a couple of broad bands. On their head they bear a conical cap, and in each of their long perforated ears hangs a large ring. These, however, are neither Egyptian nor Grecian, but Indian ornaments, which are still used by the inhabitants of the country. Were there no other difference between the sculpture of the Greeks and Indians, the dress and costume of these statues would serve as an irrefragable proof that the temple of Salsette cannot possibly have been the work of Alexander the Great and his army, as has been erroneously asserted by Gemelli, Careri, and Spilberg. How could Alexander the Great be capable of building a temple at Mabalipuram on the coast of Coromandel, a country which he never entered? Yet statues of the Indian deities, of the like kind, are found there, and with the same costume and ornaments as those in the pagodas of Salsette and the island of Elephanta. This sufficiently shews that these monuments are of Indian origin, and must have been formed long before the period of Alexander the Great.

We find also, by the sacred Scriptures[212], that the custom of worshipping Priapus, as the symbol of the all-creating Sun, (Shiva,) in subterranean temples and caverns, prevailed fourteen hundred years before the birth of Christ. Besides, a period of more than four hundred years would certainly be necessary, before a mountain which consists of massy rock, and which must have been cut with the chissel and mallet, could be hollowed out in such a manner as to exhibit so many apartments, grottos, vaults, stairs, reservoirs for water, statues, and columns, as are found in the two temples of Salsette and the island of Elephanta. Alexander and all his successors, whose dominion in general did not last above a hundred years, and whose authority extended over a very small district of land, on the sea coast, could not have been in a condition to bring all these works to a conclusion. Gemelli Careri, who carefully examined the proportions of the temple at Salsette, and who has given an accurate description of it, acknowledges that it is one of the greatest master-pieces in Asia, and that its wonderful architecture exceeds all description[213]. All travellers, such as Niebuhr, Sonnerat, Anquetil, and several Englishmen, who have seen this temple, extol it in the highest degree, and express the astonishment which it excited in their minds when they beheld it. As the shortness of my stay did not allow me to measure its different parts, and as on that account I cannot describe it properly myself, I shall here insert an extract from the description which has been given by Gemelli Careri, of a part of this temple.

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“You pass,” says he, “through an opening forty palms in circumference, made in a wall of the same stone; fifty in length, and eight in breadth; and on which there are three statues. Before entering the pagoda, you observe, on the right, a round grotto, which is more than fifty-one palms in circumference. It contains a great number of statues, some in a sitting posture, others erect; and one, on the left, which is much larger than the rest. Over this grotto arises a cupola, cut out from the rock also, and which forms with it one whole. All around the walls are seen various characters, which no one has ever yet been able to explain[214]. On entering the first vestibule of the temple, which is fifty palms square, you observe, on both sides, two columns sixty palms in height, including their chapitres, and six in diameter. On that which stands to the right as you enter are two lions, with a shield near them; and on that to the left two statues. Having passed these pillars, you see, at the entrance of a grotto on the left hand, two large statues in an erect posture, which seem as if looking at each other. Proceeding farther, you find, on the left, two other statues of a prodigious size, and a third on the right, all standing, with several small ones near them. All these are in the vestibule; for, on entering the adjoining grotto, which forms a square of twenty-four palms, you observe nothing curious. On the right side, where the lions stand, there are no statues, but two large vases on well-proportioned pedestals.

“You then enter another place, on the same level, by three doors, thirty palms in height and eight in breadth, exactly similar to each other, except that the one in the middle is level with the ground, whereas those on the sides are raised five palms. In this place there are four pillars, also cut out of the rock, which are twelve palms in height, and stand between the five windows that supply the pagoda with light. On the right side of the door you observe several unknown characters, which, like the rest of the work, have suffered considerable injury from the hand of time. Besides various small figures, there are in this apartment two colossal statues more than twenty-five palms in height. They are in an upright position, have the right hand stretched out open, and hold a dress in the left. Their heads are covered with conical caps; and in their ears they have pendants, exactly like those of the Indians.

“At the entrance of the large door of the grand pagoda, which is fifteen palms in height and ten in breadth, there are four upright statues, one of which represents a female holding a flower in her hand; together with twelve smaller ones, some in a sitting and others in a standing posture, and having the right hand, which seems to contain something, placed on the breast. On the left are observed four other statues cut out of the same rock, two of which represent females, and have around their legs large rings. Towards the sides there are sixteen smaller statues, which, like those just now mentioned, have their hands on the breast, and are partly sitting and partly standing. Over this door you find also two large statues, with two small ones sitting opposite to each other, and three of the same kind in an upright posture. On the left side, below, there is another inscription in the same characters as those before mentioned[215]. Above the architrave of this door is a window, the breadth of which is forty palms, and consequently equal to that of the whole pagoda. A large stone supplies the place of an architrave, and is supported in the inside by eight octagonal pillars.

“In regard to the pagoda itself, which is a hundred palms in length, and forty in breadth, it is arched like that of Mabalipuram, and of a circular form at the extremity. Besides the four columns at the entrance, there are thirty of the same kind within, which divide the whole into three apartments. Seventeen of these pillars are ornamented, some with chapiters, and others with figures representing elephants. The rest have no ornament except that of being cut into an octagonal form. The space left between the columns and the solid rock, that is, the breadth of the side apartments, is about six palms. At the end of the pagoda there is a kind of cupola, cut out in the rock; which, however, is not hollow in the inside. It is thirty palms in height, and sixteen paces in circumference. I am convinced that it was formerly destined for some particular use, with which at present we are not acquainted.

“Every thing hitherto described is cut out from the solid rock, so that I could observe neither in the statues nor any where else the smallest appearance of joining. On the floor of the pagoda, a few cut stones lay scattered about, which may formerly perhaps have been employed for stairs. On coming out of the pagoda, having ascended sixteen steps cut from the solid rock, I arrived at a cistern filled with potable water; and, on ascending sixteen steps more, I found a grotto sixteen palms square, and a little farther another much larger and filled with muddy water. Proceeding twenty paces more, I came to three other grottos, all adjoining; the first of which was twenty, and the last only twelve palms square. In the first was a window, to which you could ascend by means of twelve steps; also two columns and a small cistern.”

Such is the construction of the celebrated temple in the island of Salsette, which lies as it were in the middle between the other two, formed exactly in the same manner. The before-mentioned pagoda of Mabalipuram, which I have seen, is, like the rest, cut out in the subterranean rock, and constructed in the same taste, except that the proportions seem to be different. The description of this pagoda will, therefore, enable the reader to form some idea of the antiquity of these temples under the earth, and to judge what progress the ancient Indians had made in the art of architecture. It appears from the account of Careri, that some of the columns and pillars in these temples are square at the bottom, octagonal in the middle, and round at the top. In the pagoda at Mabalipuram, I observed, however, that the pillars were perfectly round; had no ornaments, and approached pretty near to the Corinthian order. If I am not much mistaken, the stem and calyx of the Lotus plant, or Nymphæa, has here served as a pattern; for, as the calyx of this plant, according to the Indian mythology, is assigned to the gods as a place of residence, it was very natural that the Indians should copy it in their architecture; and, as I have frequently remarked, apply it on columns, pillars, and architraves. I was, therefore, always more and more convinced that they did not imitate the Grecian style, or borrow the smallest ornament from it. This will appear more probable, when we reflect that the antiquity of these temples is far anterior to the age of Alexander the Great, whose conquest of India might certainly have given the natives an opportunity of becoming acquainted with the architecture of the Greeks.

The Indian architect is not confined so much by mythology as the statuary. The latter must make the statues of the gods exactly in the way and manner prescribed by the priests; in order, according to their opinion, that the attributes of the deity may be properly expressed. Hence it happens that the Indian statues have from four to six hands; three, and sometimes more heads; and, in general, a very horrid appearance. The architect, however, has full scope for his genius, and is by no means subjected to the arbitrary prescriptions of the Brahmans. For this reason the Indian architecture exhibits more taste, and is much more perfect than their works of sculpture: but I will not deny that the statuaries also make excellent pieces when they are allowed to follow the impulse of their own genius; as is proved by the many bas reliefs, crucifixes, madonnas, vases, and other articles of ivory, which are here and there executed by the Indian artists.

In the neighbourhood of every temple there must be always reservoirs or cisterns, in which the Pagans wash and bathe before they perform their devotions. These cisterns, named Cula, are for the most part of marble, and of very beautiful workmanship. Before the entrance of the temple is a so-called Mandava, or covered hall, which is totally separated from it, and rests upon pillars. Here the priests are accustomed to assemble when they have any temporal business to transact respecting the temple. Not far from it are houses for the high-priest, the astrologer, or nativity-caster, and the overseer of the temple. The other side is set apart for the habitations of the women who belong to the temple, and the female servants of the deity. The latter are called Dèvadàsi; from Dèva, a god; and Dàsi, a female servant, or maid. Their employment is to clean the temple, light the lamps, and contribute to the private pleasures of the pilgrims. These women, however, must not be confounded with those female dancers who commonly precede processions, and supply the place of mænades. The latter, in the Samscred language, are called Nrtagui—and in Portuguese, Balhadeiras. By means of these women the Brahmans become acquainted with every particular respecting the state and condition of the pilgrims; so that they are enabled, when they appear in the temple, to tell them, with the greatest correctness, what are their circumstances; how they live; what fate they have experienced, and other things of the like kind. These people then are filled with astonishment, and imagine that the deity must have revealed all this knowledge to the priest in a supernatural manner.

In regard to the painting of the Indians, the case is the same as with their sculpture. This much is certain, that no one can follow the dictates of his own genius, and paint the gods as he pleases. Every innovation of this kind is considered as an act of impiety. The Brahman prescribes the figure and form which a statue must have: under these, and no other, it must be painted; and the least part of his care is whether these be consistent or not with the rules of art and of good taste. I have already observed, on different occasions, that the Indian mythology gives to each deity a certain surname and appellation, the object of which is to express their different qualities: and a painter, when he sketches out a god, must represent these qualities also. Thus, for example, Shiva, is called the god who bears the trident; and for that reason he must be always represented with a trident in his hand. He is called, likewise, Mrdyugeya, the conqueror of death; and, on that account, must be delineated with a number of sabres, daggers, and sculls lying around him, and with a man under his feet. He exhibits a horrid countenance: his mouth stands awry; his eyes seem to dart forth fire; and he has around his neck a cord on which a great number of sculls are strung. The case is the same with all the other deities, which must always be represented in such a manner as is agreeable to their character and attributes. From this it appears, that the painting of the Indians, like their sculpture, is in the closest connection with their theogony; and as the Brahmans alone have the right of explaining it, they assume the exclusive privilege of judging in regard to works of painting and statuary. As the painters are acquainted neither with the Samscred language nor their mythology, it has been imposed on them as a duty to consult the Brahmans; and whoever transgresses this law, is punished by expulsion from his cast. This is the true reason why painting and statuary have made so little progress in India.

To this may be added also, that necessity, the mother of all the arts, is far from being so great in India as elsewhere; for as this country supplies rice, fruits, and other natural productions in abundance, it may be readily conceived that no person can find it difficult to procure a living. Under these circumstances young people feel no inducement to study painting; and among the few who apply to that art, there is not the smallest emulation to bring it to perfection. The Indians, in general, are not very fond of painting; for in a country where every person almost goes naked, little scope is naturally left for the imagination in this respect; and therefore their desire to paint such nudities, and to represent them in their full beauty, cannot be very strong. Here and there, however, I observed, on the external walls surrounding the pagodas, several beautiful paintings, which were delineated with great freedom and correctness. This may serve as a convincing proof that the Indians are not destitute of talents sufficient to enable them to make as great progress in this art as other nations. They possess also a wonderful dexterity in imitating the paintings and drawings which are given them by the Europeans to copy. Their colours, which they prepare from the juice of certain trees, flowers, herbs and fruits, are uncommonly lively, and seldom or never fade. Their painted cottons, which were celebrated in the earliest periods, are still transported to most countries in the world, and form one of the principal articles of the Indian trade. The small figures in bas-relief, with which they ornament the sides of the triumphal cars employed to carry about the images of their gods on days of solemnity, are also of very beautiful workmanship. Some of these cars cost from twenty to thirty thousand rupees, and are drawn by sixty, eighty, and sometimes a hundred persons. They have from twelve to sixteen wheels, and are painted and ornamented with figures of all sorts. Of this kind is the car of Bacchus, in the temple Ramanacoil, on the boundaries of the kingdom of Marava. There are others of the like kind also at Tiruvancòda, Cangipuri, and Jagarnat.

Of optics, and the art of making glass, the Indians have little or no knowledge. An Indian prince was one day reconnoitering at a distance an hostile army, which was advancing to attack him. An European missionary, whom he had in his suite, gave him a spy glass, that he might have a more distinct view of the enemy. When the prince looked through it, he firmly believed that the army was really close to him, and, under a conviction that this was actually the case, gave immediate orders for engaging. But how great was his astonishment when, by desire of the missionary, he took the glass from his eye, and found that the enemy were still at the same distance as they had before appeared; so that his orders would have been fruitless, even if he had employed cannon.

The art of making glass, an invention ascribed to the Phœnicians, seems in ancient times to have been totally unknown to the Indians. This much, however, is certain, that glass, as a foreign article of commerce, was conveyed to India from the Greeks and the Romans. In the ancient Samscred book, Amarasinha, glass is called Suryacanda; that is, a bright transparent mass, through which the rays of the sun can penetrate. The most valuable present which can be made to a Malabar judge or magistrate is a mirror, a telescope, or a magnifying-glass.

The case, however, is totally different in regard to the art of cutting precious stones, in which the Indians have made very considerable progress. It appears from Solinus, that, in the earliest periods, they understood the method of cutting all sorts of gems, and giving them the proper polish. We are told, likewise, by Pliny[216], that they were acquainted with the art of imitating different kinds of precious stones, and particularly the beryl. This, indeed, supposes a continual experience of many years. At Colombo, in the island of Ceylon, I saw the Indians cut stones with a wheel, which they turned in the same manner as the knife-grinders do theirs. This method appeared to me much superior to ours, in which the gems are laid on a flat square stone, fixed so as to remain immoveable, and are then turned round by means of the hand till they are properly polished[217].

The price of uncut diamonds in India is different, and determined according to weight. A diamond that weighs one carat is worth from twelve to thirteen rix-dollars; if it weighs two, it is worth sixteen or seventeen; if four, thirty-eight; and if five, forty-two: but this price is subject to variations. Precious stones are found on the tops of the mountains in Golconda, Visapour, and Bengal; and in the neighbourhood of the Gauts, particularly in the districts of Pugnatil, Cencotta, Attinga and Velidur, on the coast of Malabar. The Brahmans and other opulent persons are accustomed to purchase from the king certain pieces of land where they expect to find these valuable stones, and to dig for them at their own expence. But this is a very hazardous undertaking, which very frequently does not defray the expences, and by which many families in India are reduced to beggary. It, however, sometimes happens, that these precious stones are washed down from the mountains by the violent rains, and are found on the banks of different streams after they have returned to their usual beds.

The diamond spar, employed for polishing these stones, is found in great abundance on the coast of Malabar. The Indians are accustomed to examine the water of diamonds always at night by the light of a lamp. In Europe diamonds are separated by sawing them; but the Indians split them, or cut them down to the proper size—a labour in which they are much more expert than the Europeans. Some years ago the Great Mogul had a diamond which weighed 279½ carats. It was valued at two millions five hundred thousand rix-dollars. This diamond, therefore exceeds in value any hitherto known; for the large diamond of the Grand Duke of Tuscany weighs only 139, the Sanci 106, and the so-called Pitt 136 carats three grains.

The artists of Ceylon prepare rings and heads for canes, which contain a complete assortment of all the precious stones found in that island. These assemblages are called Jargons de Ceilan, and are so named because they consist of a collection of gems which reflect various colours, such as the red ruby, the sky-blue sapphire, the golden yellow topaz, called by the ancients chrysolite, the green emerald, which I found myself in Ceylon, though some assert that it is not a production of that island[218]; also the amethyst, beryl, opal, and garnet. All these stones may be procured at Colombo in the island of Ceylon, at Cochin and Calicut in Malabar, and at Madras on the coast of Coromandel. The people who deal in them are Armenians, Jews, Mahometans, and Banians; but in particular the Canarians, or so-called Cettis, who are particularly well acquainted with the art of ascertaining their quality and value. People who apply to this branch of trade can never employ too much caution, because those who carry it on exercise every kind of artifice and deception.

The oriental diamonds are octagonal and sharp-pointed. This form, their colour, water and lustre, with the liveliness of their irradiation, are the essential characteristics by which they may be distinguished from the Brasilian diamonds. The different kinds of agates, cornelians, chalcedonies, swallow stones, opals, onyxes, and cats-eyes, which, according to the system of Wallerius, belong to the silex genus, are not much esteemed on the coast of Malabar, though some of them are brought thither from Arabia, Persia, and the northern part of India.

The diamond, in the Malabar language, is called Vairamanni; the ruby, Patmaràgam; the emerald, Pociaratnam; the sapphire, Nilaratnam; rock crystal, Palunca, and in the Grantham dialect Spadika; and pearls, Mutta.

On a seal ring of the king of Travancor, which consists of a very hard and valuable stone, the following words are inscribed: Shri Padmanàbhen. This is one of the sacred names given to Vishnu, and contains an allusion to the birth of that deity. Shri signifies sacred, Padma denotes the nymphæa, and Nabben one who sits in the interior part of this flower. The reader will recollect, from what has been before said, that the nymphæa is a symbol of water, and of every thing created from it. The above words serve as a convincing proof, that the Indians are certainly acquainted with the art of cutting upon stone. A like ring was in the possession of the king of Ceylon, Vimala Dherma Suryada, who embraced the Christian religion, and at baptism got the name of Don John of Austria. On this ring the god Budha was represented under the human form.

The art of printing, in all probability, never existed in India; and, perhaps, we should not be far wrong if we ascribed, in a great measure, to this circumstance, the natural simplicity and the irreproachable manners of the inhabitants. They copy no other writings than such as are useful and good. The first book printed in this country was the Doctrina Christiana of Giovanni Gonsalvez, a lay brother of the order of the Jesuits, who, as far as I know, first cast Tamulic characters in the year 1577. After this appeared, in 1578, a book entitled Flos Sanctorum, which was followed by the Tamulic Dictionary of Father Antonio de Proenza, printed in the year 1679, at Ambalacate, on the coast of Malabar. From that period the Danish missionaries at Tranquebar have printed many works, a catalogue of which may be found in Alberti Fabricii salutaris Lux Evangelii.

So early as the time of Alexander the Great, the Indians were accustomed to write on palm-leaves, as they do at present. This appears by Curtius in particular[219]; and, according to the testimony of Arrian[220], the Indians, at those periods, had hymns, songs, and poems. These, as I have already said, were written either on palm leaves, or a kind of paper wove of cotton, which was drawn through rice water, and then pressed smooth. Some of the ancient Indian kings, such as Puru, who sent a letter to Augustus Octavius Cæsar, wrote either on cotton or silk cloth, as the Thibetians do at present. The well-known Indian fables, ascribed to Pilpay, were written by Vishnu Sarman, a Brahman, who belonged probably to the Sect of the Samanæi. He flourished twenty years before Zoroaster, and was prime minister in the court of the Indian king Dabshelim. His fables were translated into Persian, in the sixth century before the birth of Christ, by a Persian physician, Buzerchumir, (Herbelot calls him Buzervich,) who was sent to India by king Artaxerxes, or Anushirvan[221]. When I combine, therefore, every thing I have already said, viz. the ancient inscriptions in the subterranean temples at Salsette, Cialembron, Mabalipuri, and other places; the testimony of so many respectable writers, and the concordant traditions preserved among the Brahmans as well as among the Persians, I am more and more confirmed in the opinion, that the Indians, many centuries before the birth of Christ, had their own peculiar characters and mode of writing, as well as original written works, the authors of which, such as Amarasinha, Kalidàsa, and Pilpai, or rather Vishnu Sarman, lived before that period. We shall approach pretty near the truth, if we suppose that the fables of Pilpai, as well as the Mahabhàrada, Yudhishtira, Ràmàyana, and different astronomical works, were written about the fifth or sixth century before the Christian æra.

Cotton, in Portuguese Algodao, and in Latin Gossypium, is, in the Malabar language, called Cerupagni. A coarser sort, produced by the tree Ilava, is called, by the natives of Malabar, Pagni. The Ilava is a large lofty tree, and the cotton it yields is employed only for mattresses and bolsters. That which grows on the shrub Parutti is much finer. Both kinds are contained in an oval capsule divided into different small cells, and called by the French La Coque. The best cotton grows in Bengal and on the coast of Coromandel; and hence it happens that the cotton articles procured from these districts are the finest. The next in quality are those manufactured in the provinces of Madura, Marava, and on the coasts of Pescaria and Malabar. The gradation proceeds thus to Canara, where the cotton is not spun so fine, and the articles consequently are much coarser.

The shrub Parutti, which produces the finer kind of cotton, requires in India little cultivation or care; and the tree Ilava requires none at all. The former thrives best on the high mountainous districts; the latter in the flat open country. When the cotton has been gathered, it is thrown upon a floor and threshed, in order that it may be separated from the black seeds and the husks which served it as a covering. It is then put into bags, or tied up in bales, containing from 300 to 320 Aratel, or pounds of sixteen ounces each. After it has been carded, it is spun out into such delicate threads that a piece of cotton cloth twenty yards in length may almost be concealed in the hollow of both hands. Most of these pieces of cloth are twice washed; others remain as they come from the loom, and are dipped in coco-nut oil, in order that they may be longer preserved. It is customary also to draw them throw Cangi, or rice-water, that they may acquire more smoothness and body. The Cangi is sometimes applied to cotton articles in so ingenious a manner that purchasers are often deceived, and imagine the cloth to be much stronger than it really is; for, as soon as it is washed, the Cangi vanishes, and the cloth appears quite slight and thin.

There are reckoned to be no less than twenty-two different kinds of cotton articles manufactured in India, without including muslin or coloured stuffs. The latter are not, as in Europe, printed by means of wooden blocks, but painted with a brush made of the fibres of the rind of the coco-nut, which, when beat, approaches near to horse-hair; becomes very elastic, and can be formed into any shape the painter chooses. The colours employed are indigo, Indaco, Anil, or Coachan, all appellations borrowed from foreign languages; and which signify, not a shrub, as some have erroneously asserted, but a plant which grows in great abundance in the district of Agra, and in other places of India. The stem and leaves of this plant yield that beautiful dark blue with which the Indian chintzes, coverlets, tappisendis and other articles are painted, and which never loses the smallest shade of its beauty. Also terra merita, called Curcuma, or Indian saffron, a plant which dyes yellow; and, in the last place, gum lac, together with some flowers, roots and fruits, which are used to dye red. With these few pigments, which are applied sometimes singly, and sometimes mixed, the Indians produce on their cotton cloths that admirable and beautiful painting which exceeds every thing of the kind exhibited in Europe.

The French, English, and Dutch have endeavoured to imitate these articles; but, notwithstanding all their labour and art, they have never yet been able either to produce these colours from the vegetable kingdom, or to attain to the same fineness in their cloth. No person in Turkey, Persia or Europe has yet imitated the Betille[222], made at Masulipatan, and known under the name of Organdi. The manufacturing of this cloth, which was known in the time of Job, the painting of it, and the preparation of the colours, give employment in India to male and female, young and old.

It may with truth be asserted, that in spinning, weaving, and dyeing, the Indians excel all other nations in the world. A great deal of cotton is brought from Arabia and Persia, and mixed with that of India. The principal places where it is manufactured are: Bengal, Masulipatan, Paleacate, Madras, Sadras, Pondicherry, Naur, Nagapatnam, Paleamcotta, Tutucuri, Manapar, and Tiruvancoda. The Indians work slowly and unwillingly; a fault which is of great benefit to the Europeans. Were they more active and industrious, they would inundate our quarter of the world with their merchandize, and draw from us the little money still in circulation. We clothe ourselves in their stuffs, while our woollen cloths are to them unnecessary. On the contrary, we must pay money for all the goods which we procure from India and China; so that these two countries may be compared to two pits, in which we stand with both feet and still sink deeper[223]. Pliny in ancient times complained of the luxury of his countrymen[224], who procured similar articles from the island of Taprobane, now called Ceylon; but what would he say were he now alive and beheld our extravagance[225]? Wo to the people who are not contented with the productions of their native country!