A comparative view of the intellectual character of the four principal nations in the primitive world—the Indians, the Chinese, the Egyptians, and the Hebrews; next of the peculiar spirit and political relations of the ancient Persians.

As, after discord had broken out among mankind, humanity became split and divided into a multitude of nations, races, and languages, into hostile and conflicting tribes, castes rigidly separated, and classes variously divided; as indeed, when once we suppose this original division and primitive opposition in the human race, it could not be otherwise from the very nature and even destiny of man; so in a psychological point of view, the moral unity of the individual man was broken, and his faculties of will and understanding became mutually opposed, or followed contrary courses. The whole internal structure of human consciousness was deranged, and in the present divided state of the human faculties, there is no longer the full play of the harmonious soul—of the once unbroken spirit—but its every faculty hath now but a limited, or, to speak more properly, one half of its proper power.

The restoration of the full life and entire operation of the divided faculties of the human soul must be considered now only as a splendid exception—the high gift of creative genius, and of a more than ordinary strength of character; and such a re-union of faculties must be looked upon as the high problem which constitutes the ultimate object and ideal term of all the intellectual and moral exertions of man. When in an individual a clear, comprehensive, penetrative understanding, that has mastered all sound science, is combined with a will not only firm, but pure and upright, such an individual has attained the great object of his existence; and when a whole generation, or mankind in general, present this harmonious concord between science on the one hand, and moral conduct and external life, or to characterize them by one word, the general will, on the other, which is often in utter hostility with science—we may then truly say that humanity has attained its destiny. The great error of ordinary philosophy, and the principal reason that has prevented it from accomplishing its ends, is the supposition it so hastily admits that the consciousness of man now entirely changed, broken and mutilated, is the same as it was originally, and as it was created and fashioned by its Maker; without observing that, since the great primeval Revolution, man has not only been outwardly or historically disunited, but even internally and psychologically deranged. The moral being of man, a prey to internal discord, may be said to be quartered, because the four primary faculties of the soul and mind of man—Understanding and Will, Reason and Imagination, stand in a two-fold opposition one to the other, and are, if we may so speak, dispersed into the four regions of existence. Reason in man is the regulating faculty of thought; and so far it occupies the first place in life and the whole system and arrangement of life; but it is unproductive in itself, and even in science it can pretend to no real fertility or immediate intuition. Imagination on the other hand is fertile and inventive indeed, but left to itself and without guidance, it is blind, and consequently subject to illusion. The best will, devoid of discernment and understanding, can accomplish little good. Still less capable of good is a strong, and even the strongest understanding, when coupled with a wicked and corrupt character; or should such an understanding be associated with an unsteady and changeable will, the individual destitute of character, is entirely without influence.

To prove moreover how all the other faculties of the soul, or the mind, elsewhere enumerated are but the connecting links—the subordinate branches[49] of those four primary faculties; how the general dismemberment of the human consciousness reaches even to them; how they diverge from one another, and appear still more split and narrowed; to prove this would lead me too far, and is the less necessary, as, in the peculiar character of particular ages or nations, the historical enquirer can observe but those four primary faculties mentioned above, as the intellectual elements prevalent in each. As in the intellectual character of particular men, or in any given system of human thought, fiction, or science (and these can be better described and more closely analyzed than the fleeting and transient phenomena of real life and the social relations); as in every such individual production, I say, of human thought and human action, either Reason will preponderate as a systematic methodizer and a moral regulator, or a fertile, inventive Imagination will be displayed, or a clear, penetrative understanding, or again a peculiar energy of will and strength of character will be observed; so the same holds good in the great whole of universal history—in the moral and intellectual existence—the character, or the mind of particular ages or nations in the ancient world.

This is apparent not only in the very various manner, in which sacred Tradition—the external word to man revealed—was conceived, developed and disfigured among each of those nations; but in the peculiar form and direction which the internal word in man—that is to say his higher consciousness and intellectual life assumed among each. Such an intellectual opposition evidently exists between those two great primitive nations already characterized, that inhabit the extreme East and South of Asia—an opposition between reason and imagination. In regard to the intellectual and moral character of nations as well as of individuals, Reason is that human faculty which is conversant with grammatical construction, logical inferences, dialectic contests, systematic arrangement; and in practical life it serves as the divine regulator, in so far as it adheres to the higher order of God. But when it refuses to do this, and wishes to deduce all from itself and its own individuality, then it becomes an egotistical, over-refining, selfish, calculating, degenerate Reason, the inventress of all the arbitrary systems of science and morals, dividing and splitting every thing into sects and parties. Imagination must not be considered as a mere faculty for fiction, nor confined to the circle of art and poetry—it includes a faculty for scientific discoveries, nor did a mind destitute of all imagination ever make a great scientific discovery. There is even a higher, purely speculative fancy which finds its proper sphere in a mysticism, like the Indian, that has already been described. Even if a mysticism, like that which constitutes the basis of the Indian philosophy, were entirely free from all admixture of sensual feelings, and were entirely destitute of images, we should certainly not be right in refusing on that account to imagination its share in this peculiar intellectual phenomenon. That in the intellectual character of the Chinese, reason, and not imagination, was the predominant element, it would, after the sketch we have before given of that people, and which was drawn from the best and most recent sources and authorities, be scarcely necessary to prove at any length—so clearly is that fact established. Originally when the old system of Chinese manners was regulated by the pure worship of God, not disfigured as among other nations by manifold fictions, but breathing the better spirit of Confucius, it was undoubtedly in a sound, upright Reason, conformable to God, that the Chinese placed the foundation of their moral and political existence; since they designated the Supreme Being by the name of Divine Reason. Although some modern writers in our time have, like the Chinese, applied the term divine reason to Almighty God; yet I cannot adopt this Chinese mode of speech, since, though according to the doctrine from which I start, and the truth of which has been all along presupposed, the living God is a spirit; yet it by no means follows thence that God is Reason or Reason God. If we examine the expression closely and in its scientific rigour, we can with as little propriety attribute to God the faculty of reason, as the faculty of imagination. The latter prevails in the poetical mythology of ancient Paganism; the former, when the expression is really correct, designates rationalism or the modern idolatry of Reason; and to this indeed we may discern a certain tendency even in very early times, and particularly among the Chinese. Among the latter people at a tolerably early period, a sound, just Reason conformable and docile to divine revelation was superseded by an egotistical, subtle, over-refining Reason, which split into hostile sects, and at last subverted the old edifice of sacred Tradition, to re-construct it on a new revolutionary plan.

Equally, and even still more strongly, apparent is the predominance of the imaginative faculty among the Indians, as is seen even in their science and in that peculiar tendency to mysticism which this faculty has imparted to the whole Indian philosophy. The creative fulness of a bold poetical imagination is evinced by those gigantic works of architecture which may well sustain a comparison with the monuments of Egypt; by a poetry, which in the manifold richness of invention is not inferior to that of the Greeks, while it often approximates to the beauty of its forms; and, above all, by a mythology which in its leading features, its profound import, and its general connexion resembles the Egyptian, while in its rich clothing of poetry, in its attractive and bewitching representations, it bears a strong similarity to that of the Greeks. This decided and peculiar character of the whole intellectual culture of the Indians, will not permit us to doubt which of the various faculties of the soul is there the ruling and preponderant element.

A similar, and equally decided opposition in the intellectual character and predominant element of human consciousness is observed between the Hebrews and Egyptians; though this was an opposition of a different kind, and of a deeper import. To show this more clearly, I will take the liberty of interrupting for a moment the order I have hitherto followed, of characterizing each nation in regular succession, and with as much accuracy and fullness as possible; in order by a comparative view of the four principal nations of remote antiquity, to draw such a general sketch of the first period of universal history as may serve at once for a central point in our enquiries, and for the ground-work of subsequent remarks. Such a comparison will tend to facilitate our survey of the primitive ages of the world: and in this general combination of the whole, each part will appear in a clearer light.

If I wished to characterize in one word the peculiar bearing and ruling element of the Egyptian mind; however unsatisfactory in other respects such general designations may be—I should say that the intellectual eminence of that people was in its scientific profundity—in an understanding that penetrated or sought to penetrate by magic into all the depths and mysteries of nature, even into their most hidden abyss. So thoroughly scientific was the whole leaning and character of the Egyptian mind, that even the architecture of this people had an astronomical import, even far more than that of the other nations of early antiquity. I have already had occasion to speak of the deep and mysterious signification of their treatment of the dead. In all the natural sciences, in mathematics, astronomy, and even in medicine, they were the masters of the Greeks; and even the profoundest thinkers among the latter, the Pythagoreans, and afterwards the great Plato himself, derived from them the first elements of their doctrines, or caught at least the first outline of their mighty speculations. Here too, in the birth-place of hieroglyphics, was the chief seat of the Mysteries; and Egypt has at all times been the native country of many true, as well as of many false, secrets. These few remarks may here serve to characterize this people; we shall later have occasion to add many minuter traits to complete this brief sketch of the Egyptian intellect.

Very different was the character of the ancient Hebrews, who, in science as well as in art, can sustain no comparison with those other nations we have spoken of, and to whom we must apply a very different criterion of excellence. The moral eminence of this people, or the part allotted to it in high historical destiny, lies rather in the sphere of will, and in a well-regulated conduct of the will. Moses himself was undoubtedly, as it is said of him, "versed in all the science of the Egyptians;" for he had received a completely Egyptian education, which, by the care of an Egyptian princess, was of the highest and politest kind, and consequently, as the customs of the country imply, extremely scientific. Even his name according to the credible testimony of several ancient writers, was originally Egyptian, and afterwards hebraized; for Moyses,[50] as he is called in the Greek version of the Seventy, signifies in Egyptian, one saved out of the water. But the Hebrew people were far from possessing that Egyptian science of which Moses was so great a master; on the contrary, the Jewish legislator seemed to consider the greater part of that foreign science, in which he himself was so well versed, as of little service to his object; and in many instances sought to withhold this knowledge from his nation. Many of the Mosaic precepts indeed, especially such as have a reference to external life, to subsistence, diet and health, and which are in part at least founded on reasons of climate, are entirely conformable to Egyptian usages, and are found to have been practised among that people; for these ancient law-givers and founders of Asiatic states did not scruple to give even medical precepts in their codes of moral legislation, that embraced the minutest circumstances of life. But to these precepts and usages the Hebrew legislator has imparted in general a higher import and a religious consecration. We must not suppose, however, that he has taken all his laws from this source, or make this a matter of reproach to the Jewish law-giver, as many critics of our own times have done; for, to minds enslaved by the narrow spirit of the age, difficult, indeed, is it to transport themselves into that remote antiquity. It would be a great error, also, to suppose that all the science which Moses had acquired by his Egyptian education, he wished to conceal from his nation, and reserve for the secret use of himself and a few confidential friends. It is evident, if we regard the subject only in an historical point of view, that a higher and better element, completely foreign to the science of Egypt, animated and pervaded all the views and conduct of this great man, whether we consider him as the founder and law-giver of the Hebrew state, or as the guide and instructor of the Hebrew people. In the forty years' sojourn of Moses in the Arabian desert with Jethro, one of whose seven daughters he married, and who has rightly been accounted an Emir, or petty pastoral prince of Arabia, this higher principle silently grew up and expanded in the breast of this exalted man, until it at last burst forth in all the majesty of divine power. All that appeared to Moses truly sound and excellent in Egyptian customs and science, or serviceable to his purpose, he adopted and used with choice and circumspection. But all that was incompatible with his designs, and which he knew to be corrupt, he strenuously rejected, or he gave to it a totally different application, and established a higher principle in its room.

In the same way he was not disconcerted by the secret arts of the Egyptian sorcerers, for it was no difficult matter for him to vanquish them in the presence of the king by the higher power of God. It is thus we should understand the conduct of Moses in reference to the science and modes of thinking of the Egyptians; and that conduct will be found not only perfectly irreproachable in a human point of view, but entitled to our warmest admiration. If for instance we suppose that Moses, the first and greatest writer in the Hebrew tongue,—the founder and legislator of that language also, was, if not the first that discovered, at least the first that fixed and regulated, the Hebrew alphabet, we may easily conceive him to have taken the first ten, as well as the last twelve Hebrew letters from the Egyptian hieroglyphics; for even at that early period, the hieroglyphics, while they retained their original symbolical meaning, had acquired an alphabetical use. This supposition is at least extremely probable, for many of the Hebrew letters are found in precisely the same form in the hieroglyphical alphabet; though our knowledge of this alphabet is still so very imperfect, and though we have deciphered but perhaps a tenth part of all the various literal symbols which may there exist. But to continue our supposition, Moses did not wish to take from the Egyptian hieroglyphics more than the twenty-two literal signs; he neglected the other hieroglyphs and natural symbols, for he had no need of them. On the contrary, he studiously excluded all natural symbols from his religious system, and prohibited with inexorable severity the chosen people the use of images and all that was most remotely connected with such a service. He well foresaw that if he made the slightest concession on this point, and permitted the least indulgence, or left the slightest opening to the passion for natural and symbolical representations, it would be impossible to set any restraint on this indulgence, and that the Hebrews when they had once swerved from the path marked out for them, would follow the same course as the Pagan nations. The subsequent history of the Jewish nation sufficiently proves how important and necessary was that part of the Mosaic legislation which proscribed all that was connected with the religious use of images. But wherein consisted the peculiar bent of mind, the moral and intellectual character traced out to the Hebrews by their legislator and all their Patriarchs? Completely opposed to the Egyptian science—to the Egyptian understanding, that dived and penetrated by magical power into the profoundest secrets and mysteries of nature, the ruling element of the Hebrew spirit was the will—a will that sought with sincerity, earnestness and ardour, its God and its Maker, far exalted above all nature, went after his light when perceived, and followed with faith, with resignation, and with unshaken courage, his commands, and the slightest suggestions of his paternal guidance, whether through the stormy sea, or across the savage desert. I do not mean to assert that the whole nation of the Jews was thoroughly, constantly, and uniformly actuated and animated with such a pure spirit and such pure feelings—many pages of their history attest the contrary, and but too well manifest how often they were in contradiction with themselves. But this and this alone was the fundamental principle, the first mighty impulse, the permanent course of conduct which Moses and the other leaders and chosen men among the Hebrews sought to trace out to their people—this was the abiding character, the great distinctive mark which they had stamped upon their nation. This too, was the distinguishing character of all the primitive Patriarchs, as represented in the sacred writings of the Old Testament.

Independently of particular traits of national character, and the special destiny of nations, it is philosophically certain, or if we may so speak, it is a truth grounded on psychological principles, that the will and not the understanding is in man the principal organ for the perception of divine truths. And by this, we understand a will that seeks out with all the earnestness of desire the light of truth, which is God, and when that light has appeared clear, or begins to appear clear, follows with fidelity its guidance, and listens to the internal voice of truth and all its high inspirations. I affirm that in man the understanding is not the principal organ for the perception of divine truth—that is to say, the understanding alone. On the understanding alone, indeed, the light may dawn and may even be received—but if the will be not there—if the will pursue a separate and contrary course; that light of higher knowledge is soon obscured, and soon becomes clouded and unsteady; or, if it should still gleam, it is changed into the treacherous meteor of illusion. Without the co-operation of a good will, this light cannot be preserved or maintained in its purity; nay, the will must make the first advances towards truth; it must lay the first basis for the higher science of divine truth, and religious knowledge. In other words, as the God whom we acknowledge and revere as the Supreme Being is a living God; so truth, which is God, is a living truth—it is only from life that it can be derived, by life attained, and in life learned. In the present state of man's existence, in this period of the world—a period of discord, of sunken power, of misery and delusion—a period, which, as the Indians designate our fourth and last epoch of the world by the name of Caliyug, is the period of predominant woe and misfortune; in this present life, the path marked out for man as leading to the knowledge of divine truth and to a higher life, is the path of patience, resignation, and perseverance in the struggle of life—a toilsome probation cheered and supported by hope. Desire or love is the beginning or root of all higher science or divine knowledge; perseverance in desire, in faith, and in the combat of life forms the mid-way of our pilgrimage; but the term of this pilgrimage is only a term of hope. This necessary period of preparation, of slow and irksome preparation, and gradual progression, cannot be avoided or overleaped by the most heroic exertions of man. The supreme perfection and full contentment of the soul—the intimate union of the spirit with God—and God himself cannot be thus grasped, wrested, and held fast by a violent concentration of all our thoughts on a single point, by a species of arrogated omnipotence—the self-potency of obstinate and tenacious thought; as the Indian philosophy believes, and as the modern German philosophy[51] for some time seemed to believe, or at least attempted.

The real character, and even history of the Jewish people are frequently misunderstood, and ill appreciated; because the men of our times, who in all their speculations, and whatever may be the nature of their opinions, incline ever more and more to the spirit of the absolute, are unable to seize and enter into the idea of that epoch of preparation and progressive advancement which was as indispensable for the perfection of intellect and knowledge, as of moral life itself. The whole historical existence and destiny of the Hebrews is confined within one of those great epochs of providential dispensation—it marks but one stage in the wonderful march of humanity towards its divine goal. The whole existence of this people turned on the pivot of hope, and the key-stone of its moral life projected its far shadows into futurity. Herein consists the mighty difference between the sacred traditions of the Hebrews and those of the other ancient Asiatic nations. When we examine the primitive records and sacred books of these nations, who were so much nearer the fountain-head of primitive revelation than the later nations of the polished West;—when we leave out of sight the moral precepts and ordinances of liturgy comprised in these books; we shall find their historical view is turned backward towards the glorious Past, and that they breathe throughout a melancholy regret for all that man and the world have since lost. And undoubtedly these primitive traditions contain many ancient and beautiful reminiscences of primeval happiness, for even Nature herself was then far different from what she is at present, more lovely, more akin to the world of spirits, peopled and encompassed with celestial genii; and not only the small garden of Eden, but all creation, enjoyed a state of Paradisaic innocence and happy infancy, ere strife had commenced in the world, and ere death was known. Out of the multitude of these holy and affecting recollections, and out of the whole body of primitive traditions, Moses, by a wise law of economy, has retained but very little in the revelation, which was specially destined for the Hebrew people, and has communicated only what appeared to him absolutely and indispensably necessary for his nation, and for his particular designs, or rather the designs of God, in the conduct of that nation. But the little he has said—the significant brevity of the first pages of the Mosaic history, involves much profound truth for us in these later ages, and comprises very many solutions as to the great problems of primitive history, did we but know how to extract the simple sense with like simplicity. But every thing else, and in general the whole tenour of the Mosaic writings, like the existence of the Hebrew nation, was formed for futurity—and to this were the views of the Jewish legislator almost exclusively directed. And as all the sacred writings of the Old Testament, which, by this direction towards futurity, were even in their outward form so clearly distinguishable from the sacred books and primitive records of other ancient nations; as all these sacred writings, I say, from the first law-giver, who in a high spiritual sense, delivered from the Egyptian bondage of nature his people chosen for that especial object, down to the royal and prophetic Psalmist, and down to that last voice of warning and of promise that resounded in the desert, were both in their form and meaning eminently prophetic; so the whole Hebrew people may, in a lofty sense, be called prophetic, and have been really so in their historical existence and wonderful destiny.

To these four nations, whom we have compared, in respect to the different shape and course which the primitive revelation and sacred tradition assumed, among them, as well as in respect to the diversities in their intellectual development,—the contrarieties in the internal Word, and higher consciousness of each;—to these nations, in order to complete the instructive parallel, we may now add a fifth—the Persians; a people which in some points was similar, in others dissimilar to one or other of these nations, and which bearing a nearer affinity to some in its doctrines and views of life, or even in its language and turn of fancy, and more closely connected with others in the bonds of political intercourse, may be said to occupy a middle place among these nations. In ancient history, the Persians form the point of transition from the first to the second epoch of the world; and in this they hold the first place, in so far as they commenced the career of universal conquest; a passion which passed from them to the Greeks, and from these in a still fuller extent to the Romans, like some noxious humour—some deadly disease transmitted with augmented virulence through every age from generation to generation; and even in modern times, this hereditary malady in the human race has again broken out.

But, considered in a spiritual point of view, and with regard to their religion and sacred traditions, the Persians must be classed with the four great nations of the primitive world, and can be compared with them only; for, in this respect, they so totally differed from the Phoenicians and Greeks, that no comparison can be instituted between them and the latter; and no parallel, where the objects are so unlike, can be productive of any useful result. To the Indians they bore the strongest resemblance in their language, poetry, and poetic Sagas; their conquests, which stretched far into the provinces of central Asia, brought them in contact with the remote eastern Asia, and the celestial Empire of the Chinese, so completely sequestered from the western world; with Egypt they were involved in political contests, till they finally subdued it—and in their religious doctrines and traditions, they more nearly approximated to the Hebrews; or their views of God and religion were more akin to the Hebrew doctrines than those of any other nation. Of the King of Heaven, and the Father of eternal light, and of the pure world of light, of the eternal Word by which all things were created, of the seven mighty spirits that stand next to the throne of Light and Omnipotence, and of the glory of those heavenly hosts which encompass that throne; next, of the origin of evil and of the Prince of darkness, the monarch of those rebellious spirits—the enemies of all good; they in a great measure entertained completely similar, or at least very kindred, tenets to those of the Hebrews. That, with all these doctrines much may have been, or really was, combined, which the ancient Hebrews and even we would account erroneous, is very possible, and indeed may almost naturally be surmised; but this by no means impairs that strong historical resemblance we here speak of. A circumstance well worthy of observation is the manner in which Cyrus and the Persians are represented in the historical books of the Old Testament, and are there so clearly distinguished from all other Pagan nations. Among the latter they can with no propriety be numbered; nay, they felt towards the Egyptian Idolatry as strong an abhorrence, and in political life manifested it more violently, than the Hebrews themselves. During their sway in Egypt, this Idolatry was an object of their persecution, and under Cambyses, they pursued a regular plan for its utter extirpation. Even Xerxes in his expedition into Greece, destroyed many temples and erected fire-chapels in the whole course of his march; for it cannot be questioned but religious views were principally instrumental in giving birth to the Persian conquests, at least to those of an earlier date. This is a circumstance which should not be overlooked, if we would rightly understand the whole course of these events, and penetrate into the true spirit and original design of these mighty movements in the world. From their fire-worship, we must not be led to accuse the ancient Persians of an absolute deification of the elements, and of a sensual idolatry of nature; in their religion, which was so eminently spiritual, the earthly fire and the earthly sacrifice were but the signs and the emblems of another devotion and of a higher Power. Symbols and figurative representations were in general not so rigidly excluded from their religious system, as from that of the Hebrews. Yet, among the Persians, these had a totally different character from those in the Indian or Egyptian idolatry. The generous character of the ancient Persians, their life and their manners, which display such an exalted sense of nature, possess in themselves something peculiarly winning and captivating for the feelings. The leading result of the few observations we have made may be comprised in the following general remarks:—

If a poetical recollection of Paradise sufficed for the moral destiny of man—if the pure feeling, enthusiasm, and admiration for sideral nature were alone capable of revealing all the glory of the celestial abodes, and of the heavenly hosts, of opening to mental eyes the gates of eternal light—if this were the one thing necessary, and of the first necessity for man—if it were, or could be conformable to the will of God, that the eternal empire of pure light should be diffused over the whole earth by the enthusiasm of martial glory, by the generous valour and heroic magnanimity of a chivalric nobility, such as the Persian undoubtedly was—then indeed would the Persians hold the pre-eminence, or be entitled to claim the first rank among those four nations that were nearest the source of the primitive revelation. But it is otherwise ordained; the path alone fit and salutary for man, and evidently marked out by the will of God, is the path of patience and perseverance—the unremitting struggle of slow preparation. Thus, as we may easily conceive, it was not the Persians, distinguished as that nation was by its noble character, and by its spiritual views of life; it was not the Egyptians, versed and initiated as they were in all the mysteries of nature and all the depths of science;—but it was the politically insignificant, and, in an earthly point of view, the far less important, almost imperceptible, people of the Hebrews, that were chosen to be the medium of transition—the connecting link between the primitive revelation and the full development of religion in modern times, and its last glorious expansion towards the close of ages. They are now the carriers, and, we may well say, the porters of the designs of Providence, destined to bear the torch of primitive tradition and sacred promise from the beginning to the consummation of the world:—while the once magnanimous nation of the Persians has sunk from that pure knowledge of truth, and those high spiritual notions of religion it once entertained, down to the anti-Christian superstition of Mahomet; and the profound people of Egypt has become totally extinct, and is not to be traced even in the small community of Coptic Christians, who have preserved a feeble remnant of the ancient language.

Since now this general sketch of the various and contrary directions which the human mind followed in the first ages of history has been rendered more clear and definite by a comparative view of the five principal nations of the primitive world, it only remains for us to subjoin some important traits in the history of each, to complete this picture of the earliest nations; in order to pass over, along with the Persians, to the second period of the ancient world—a period which is so much nearer to us, and appears so much more clear and open to our apprehension.

The origin of ancient heathenism we must seek among the Indians, and not among the Chinese, for the reason we have before alleged: namely, that, in the primitive ages, the Chinese observed a pure, simple, and Patriarchal worship of the Deity; and it was only when under the first general and powerful Emperor of China, the rationalism introduced by the sect of Taosse had brought about a complete revolution in the whole system of Chinese faith, manners, and customs, that a real form of Paganism—the Indian superstition of Buddha—was subsequently introduced into that country. This subversion of the whole system of ancient government—of ancient doctrines—and of what among the Chinese was inseparably allied with the latter, the early system of writing, was a real revolution in the public mind. As the general burning of the sacred books, and the persecution and execution of many of the learned were measures directed solely against the school of Confucius, that adhered to the old system of morals and government; it is by no means an arbitrary and baseless hypothesis to ascribe to the antagonist party, the rationalist sect of Taosse, a great share in this violent moral and political revolution; inasmuch as the powerful Emperor Chi-ho-angti must have been quite in the interest of this party. Although the erection of the great wall of China, and the settlement of a Chinese colony in Japan, gave external splendour to his reign; yet at home its despotic violence rendered it thoroughly revolutionary. And so this mighty catastrophe, which occurred two thousand years ago in the Chinese empire, widely removed as it is from us by the distance of space and time, and different as is the form under which it occurred, bears nevertheless no slight resemblance or analogy to much we have seen and experienced in our own times. To explain the contradiction which seems involved in the fact, that on one hand we have commended that pure, simple, and Patriarchal worship of the Deity by the Chinese in the primitive period; and much that denoted the comparatively high state of civilization among this people, together with a science perverted and degenerate indeed, yet carried to a high degree of refinement; and that, on the other hand, we have pointed out many things in their primitive writing-system, which displayed a great rudeness and poverty of ideas, and a very confined circle of symbols, we may observe that it is with China, as with many other ancient civilized countries, where in the back-ground of a ruling and highly polished people, a close investigation will discover a race of primitive inhabitants more barbarous, or at least less advanced in intellectual refinement. Such a race is mentioned by historians as existing in different provinces of China under the name of Miao—they are precisely characterized as an earlier, less polished race of inhabitants, and they have indeed been preserved down to later times. The historical enquirer meets almost always in the first ages of the world with two strata of nations, consisting of an elder and a younger race;—in the same way as the geologist in his investigation of the earth's surface can clearly distinguish a two-fold formation of mountains and separate periods in the formation of that surface. Thus in China the more polished new-comers and founders of the subsequent nation and state, accommodated themselves in many respects to the manners and customs, the language and even perhaps symbolical writing of these half savages, as the Europeans have partly done, when they have wished to civilize and instruct the Mexicans and other barbarous nations; and as men must always act in similar cases, if they would wish success to crown their benevolent endeavours. All researches into the origin of the Chinese nation and Chinese civilization ever conduct the enquirer to the north-west, where the province of Shensee is situated, and to the countries lying beyond. Thus this only serves to confirm the opinion, highly probable in itself, and supported by such manifold testimony, of the general derivation of all Asiatic civilization from the great central region of Western Asia.

Agreeably to this opinion, the Indian traditions, as we have already mentioned, deduce the historical descent of Indian civilization from the northern mountainous range of the Himalaya and the country northwards; and in support of this tradition, we may cite the vast ruins, the immense subterraneous temples hewn out of the rock, in the neighbourhood of the old and celebrated city of Bamyan. Though the latter city be not in the proper India, but more northward towards Cabul, in Hindu Cutch, still its ruins present to the eye of the spectator the peculiar forms and structure of the architecture and colossal images of India, (whereof they contain a great abundance,) such as are observed in the other great monumental edifices of the Indians at Ellore, in the centre of the southern province of Deccan, in the Isles of Salsette and Elephanta in the neighbourhood of Bombay, in the island of Ceylon, and near Mavalipuram on the coast of Madras. All these immense temples, which have been hewn in the cavities of rocks, or have been cut out of the solid rock; and where often many temples are ranged above and beside the other, together with the buildings for the use of the Brahmins and the swarms of pilgrims, occupy in length and breadth the vast space of half a German mile, and even more. These temples form the regular places of Hindoo pilgrimage, whither immense multitudes of pilgrims flock from all the countries of India; and an English writer who wrote as an eye witness, estimated the multitude at the almost incredible number of two millions and a half. Together with the colossal images of gods and of sacred animals, such as the elephant and the nandi, or the bull sacred to Siva, we find the rocky walls of these subterraneous temples adorned with an almost incalculable number of carved figures, representing various scenes from the Indian mythology. These figures jut so prominently from the rock, that it would almost seem as if their backs alone joined the wall. The multitude of figures is exceedingly great, and in the ruins near Bamyan, the number is computed at twelve thousand; though this calculation may not perhaps be very accurate, for the thick forests which surround these now desolate ruins are often the repair of tigers and serpents, and thus all approach to them is attended with danger. Besides in the ruins of Bamyan many of the figures, and even some of the colossal idols, have been destroyed by the Mahometans; for whenever their armies chance to pass by these ruins, they never fail to point their cannon against the images of those fabulous divinities, which all Mahometans hold in so much abhorrence.

As to architecture, the perfection which this art attained among the Indians is evident from the beautiful workmanship and varied decoration of their columns, whole rows of which, like a forest of pillars support the massy roof of upper rock. Notwithstanding the essential difference which must exist in the architecture of temples hewn out of rocks, or constructed in the cavities of rocks, we shall find that the prevailing tendency in Indian architecture is towards the pyramidal form. On the other hand, it is observed that the art of vaulting appears to have been less known, or at least not to have attained great perfection, or been in frequent use. We find, too, among these monuments, vast walls constructed out of immense blocks of stone, and rudely cut fragments of rock, not unlike the old Cyclopean structures. The amateurs of such subjects have acquired a more accurate knowledge of them by the splendid illustrations which the English have published; for a mere verbal description can with difficulty convey a just notion of the nature and peculiar character of this architecture. Of the political history of India, little can be said, for the Indians scarcely possess any regular history—any works to which we should give the denomination of historical; for their history is interwoven and almost confounded with mythology, and is to be found only in the old mythological works, especially in their two great national and epic poems, the Ramayana and the Mahabarata, and in the eighteen Puranas (the most select and classical of the popular and mythological legends of India), and perhaps in the traditionary history of particular dynasties and provinces; and even the works we have mentioned are not merely of a mytho-historical, but in a great measure of a theological and philosophical purport. The more modern history of Hindostan, from the first Mahometan conquest at the commencement of the eleventh century of our era, can indeed be traced with pretty tolerable certainty; but as this portion of Indian history is unconnected with, and incapable of illustrating the true state and progress of the intellectual refinement of the Hindoos, it is of no importance to our immediate object. The more ancient history of that country, particularly in the earlier period, is mostly fabulous, or, to characterize it by a softer, and at the same time, more correct name, a history purely mythic and traditionary; and it would be no easy task to divest the real and authentic history of ancient India of the garb of mythology and poetical tradition; a task which at least has not yet been executed with adequate critical acumen.

Chronology, too, shares the same fate with the sister science of history, for in the early period it is fabulous, and in the more modern, it is often not sufficiently precise and accurate. The number of years assigned to the first three epochs of the world must be considered as possessing an astronomical import, rather than as furnishing any criterion for an historical use. It is only the fourth and last period of the world—the age of progressive misery and all-prevailing woe, which the Indians term Caliyug, that we can in any way consider an historical epoch; and this, the duration of which is computed at four thousand years, began about a thousand years before the Christian era. Of the progress and term of this period of the world, considered in reference to the history of mankind, the Indians entertain a very simple notion. They believe that the condition of mankind will become at first much worse, but will be afterwards ameliorated. The regular historical epoch when the chronology of India begins to acquire greater certainty, and from which indeed it is ordinarily computed, is the age of King Vikramaditya, who reigned in the more civilized part of India, somewhat earlier than the Emperor Augustus in the West, perhaps about sixty years before our era. It was at the court of this monarch that flourished nine of the most celebrated sages and poets of the second era of Indian literature; and among these was Calidas, the author of the beautiful dramatic poem of Sacontala, so generally known by the English and German translations. It was in the age of Vikramaditya, that the later poetry and literature of India, of which Calidas was so bright an ornament, reached its full bloom. The elder Indian poetry, particularly the two great epic poems above-mentioned, entirely belong to the early and more fabulous ages of the world; so far at least as the poets themselves are assigned to those ages, and figure in some degree, as fabulous personages. We may, however, observe that in the style of poetry, in art, and even in the language itself, there reigns a very great difference between these primitive heroic poems, and the works of Calidas and other contemporary poets—the difference is at least as great as that which exists between Homer and Theocritus, or the other Bucolick poets of Greece. The oldest of the two epic poems of the Indians, the Ramayana by the poet Valmiki, celebrates Rama, his love for a royal princess, the beautiful Sita, and his conquest of Lanka, or the modern Isle of Ceylon. Although in the old historical Sagas of the Indians, we find mention made of far-ruling monarchs and all-conquering heroes; still these traditions seem to shew, as in the instance first cited, that in the oldest, as in the latest, times prior to foreign conquest, India was not united in one great monarchy, but was generally parcelled out into a variety of states; and this fact serves to prove that such has ever been in general the political condition of that country. The whole body of ancient Indian traditions and mythological history is to be found in the other great epic of the Indians, the Maha-Barata, whose author, or at least compiler, was Vyasa, the founder of the Vedanta philosophy, the most esteemed, and most prevalent of all the philosophical systems of the Hindoos. This leads us to observe a second remarkable, and singularly characteristic, feature in Indian intellect and Indian literature, so widely remote from the relation between poetry and philosophy among other nations, particularly the Greeks. This is the close connection, and almost entire fusion of poetry and philosophy among this people. Many of their more ancient philosophical works were composed in metre, though they possess productions of a later period, which display the highest logical subtilty and analysis. Their great old poems, whatever may be the beauty of the language, and the captivating interest of the narrative, are generally imbued with, and pervaded by, the most profound philosophy; and among this people, even the history of Metaphysics ascends as far back as the mythic ages. This at least holds good of the authors, to whom the invention of the leading philosophical systems has been ascribed; although the subsequent commentaries belong to a much later and more historical period. Thus the Mahabarata contains as an episode a didactic poem, or philosophical dialogue between the fabulous personages and heroes of the epic, known in Europe by the name of the Bhagavatgita, and which has recently been ably edited and expounded in Germany, by Augustus William Von Schlegel, and William Von Humboldt. The leading principles of the Vedanta philosophy are copiously set forth in this poem, which may be regarded as a manual of Indian mysticism; for such is the ultimate object of all Indian philosophy; and of this peculiar propensity of the Hindoo mind we have already cited some remarkable traits. For the accomplishment of our more immediate object, and in order rightly to understand the true place which the intellectual culture of India occupies in primitive history, a general knowledge of Indian philosophy is far more important and necessary, than any minute analysis and criticism on the manifold beauties of the very rich poetry of that country; and this philosophy we shall now endeavour to characterize according to its various systems, and in its main and essential features.

END OF LECTURE V.