people of the renowned city of Uyodya, the metropolis of Dusha-rutha, lord of the world,-on whose son Rama it is our present business to attend.

This matchless prince, of whose virtues and endowments every thing divine is predicated, with a thousand repetitions, and whose soul was half of Vishnoo, one of of the three supreme gods*, appears, notwithstanding, to have had the use of no superhuman powers of discernment or prescience; for, at parting with his royal consort, Seeta, in order to lead the magnificent procession to his father's palace, he assumes, with entire confidence, the favourable disposition of Kikeyee towards him, and his approaching elevation: O divine one, the god and goddess' (Dusha-rutha and Kikeyee) have consulted, relative to the best method of conducting the installation. The accomplished one, whose eyes are bordered with jet, guessing the design of the king, and desirous of gratifying me, has hastened him on my account.' On reaching, however, the apartment of this god and goddess,' he was exceedingly surprised and distressed at the predicament to which this gentle goddess had reduced this imperial god, who was unable to utter a word beyond-'O`Rama! An explanation is earnestly sought, and it is most promptly given by this royal quintessence of benignity, who informs the prince, in a tone of perfectly easy assurance, of the comprehensive promise formerly made her by the king, of the use it had now occurred to her to make of it, of the solemn oath into which she had just inveigled his majesty, and of the irreversible decree of banishment involved in it. And she plainly tells him that the sooner he is off, the better; this very day, this very hour; for that, till he is gone, the king cannot or shall not perform the morning religious ceremonies indispensable to precede the business of the day, nay, that be cannot even eat. The prince deeply affected, by his father's overwhelming distress, manifests, however, as to all that concerns himself in this sudden disclosure, and this reversal of his prospects, the same tranquillity with which Cato would have heard that he was not to dine till two hours later than the expected time. He would rather, he says, beyond all comparison, give up life itself than render void his father's solemn engagements. And even to her majesty he applies a language from which we should fear

* The four brothers, Rama, Bhuruta, Lukshmuna, and Shutrooghna, had the whole god among them; the first contained half of him, the second a quarter, and the two last shared between them the remaining quarter.

that many a royal Indian female reader of the poem has
taken a warrant to exempt herself from all obligation about
right and wrong: at thy word I will perform it; hast
thou not confidence in my virtue, O Kikeyee, thou who
art greater to me than a deity. Bear with me
with me while I
speak to my mother, and console Seeta; then will I this
day depart to the great wilderness:' and before he went
out he 'prostrated himself at her feet.' He then cir-
cumambulated' her and his father, and slowly departed,
gently withdrawing his eyes: The loss of the kingdom
could not impair the dignity of Rama, even as the wane
of the moon, the irradiator of the world, impairs not its
beauty.'

by the

Between the prince and his mother there is a long conversation, highly impassioned on her part. She remonstrates against his considering himself bound to give effect to a promise made to wickedness by infatuation; and indeed his father himself, for a moment urges him to frustrate it. Rama appears to maintain the intrinsic universal obligation of a solemn promise, whatever may be the consequences. But at least he insists, most positively, that it is impossible to do wrong in obeying an injunction, or fulfilling an engagement of a father. We will quote two or three of his moral sentences on this point, assuming, as we very fairly may, that his doctrine is meant poet to be regarded as the infallible standard of orthodoxy. Whatever a preceptor, a king, or an aged person commands, even through anger, desire, or excess of joy, what person, regarding his duty, would not perform? I am therefore unable to neglect the performance of my father's command, even in its utmost extent.” Truth is founded in virtue, and virtue resides in the venerable command of a father. A father is termed a god of gods; I therefore consider my father's word as a divine mandate.' The learned sylvan sage Kundoola, acquainted with the rules of virtue, murdered a cow, in obedience to his father's commands. Formerly likewise, in our family, the guilt of a heinous murder was incurred, by the sons of Sugura, at the command of their father. At his father's command also, by Rama, son of Jumadugnya, was Renooka his mother decapitated with an axe in the forest. By these and other god like men have paternal commands been rendered efficient; I also will perperform my father's will. In the road formerly trodden by these ancient ones would I fain walk. This is my path while on earth; the reverse cannot be admitted. By obedience to a father's command is no one degraded.'

The consequences of a doctrine like this, under the management of the Brahmins, may easily be apprehended. Perhaps a slight irksome perception of the moral quality

1

of those consequences, and a wish to extenuate the palpably atrocious ones, made the poet the more eager to resort, in the person of Rama, to the grand refuge of perplexed speculation, and inconsistent morality, the doctrine of fate.

"O son of Soomitra, the hand of fate appears in my exile, and the restitution of the kingdom on my return. Why should known guilt be attributed to Kikeyee on account of my exile, if this her in. tention be the mere decree of fate? O great one, thou knowest that among the mothers, there was before nothing contrary to me; nor any distinction between me and the son of Kikeyee. By these cruel and angry words, frustrating my installation and demanding my exile, I suffer nothing beyond the decree of fate. How else could she, a princess of the best disposition, her nature remaining unaltered, like a vulgar woman, utter such grievous things in the presence of her husband? What is inscrutable to mortals is divine and unalterable. Behold what adverse circumstances have fallen out between myself and her. What man dares contend with the fixed decrees of heaven, the comprehending of which frustrate not the event? Even the sages who practise the most severe acts of mor tification, urged on by fate, abandoning the strictest vows, have fallen by concupiscence or angry passions, &c.?

But the son of Soomitra, that is Lukshuna, a very heroic section of Vishnoo, but apparently not taken from the metaphysical portion of his nature, loses all patience under this learned lecture, vows to effect a speedy solution of the question with his sword, and to dispatch whatever from heaven, earth, or hell, shall presume to place itself in the way of the installation of his brother, to whom he is enthusiastically devoted. His attitude is not a little imposing; and some parts of his speech, which we shall fanscribe, as our last quotation, are more in the style of Homer, than any thing else we recollect in the work.

Strongly fixing his brows, this great one breathed like an enraged serpent in his hole; his frowning face appeared dreadful as that of an angry lion, his hands shaking like the proboscis of an elephant, and his body erect, with an averted but stedfast eye, thus addressed his brother. Ill timed is this strange fear of failing in virtue, or of acting dishonourably. What! does it become a chief Kshutriya, fearless, and able to controul the decrees of fate, to say as thou hast done, that fate is irrevocable, and misery unavoidable? Hast thou no suspicion of those two wicked persons? hast thou not yet learned, O thou virtuous one, that their pretensions to virtue are merely specious? If, O Rama. this scheme of theirs, for rejecting thee to subserve their own purpose, had not been an old plan, the off pring of deceit, this promise of theirs, had been fulfilled long ago. Forgive me, O hero, I cannot bear the detested installation of another.

That sense of duty, by which thy mind has been decided, and in the praises of which thou art absorbed, is insufferable to me. Why wilt thou, devoted to virtue, fulfil the unjust and despicable commands of our father? That thou perceivest not this change to have been effected by a specious kind of hypocrisy, heightens my distress. Were this scheme of theirs even a divine appointment, it ought to be disregarded by thee. Let weak minds, and those destitute of heroism, regard the appointments of fate: but let not heroes, men of renown, regard such bug-bears. It becomes not him. to be dejected, who, stripped of his rights by a decree of the gods, is able to controul that decree by his own prowess. People shall to-day behold the power both of divine decrees, and of man. The respective strength or weakness of the gods and of men shall appear this day. Those who have beheld the installation prevented by a decree of the gods, shall to-day see this decree rendered abortive by my valour. Springing forth, like an intoxicated and furious elephant who has burst his chain, I will, by my own prowess, prevent the decree of the gods. All the guardians of the world, or of the whole three worlds, cannot this day prevent Rama's installation; how much less then my father. O king, those by, whom thy exile to the wilderness has been effected, shall in their turn spend fourteen years in the forest. The power of the divine decree shall be less efficacious in supporting those who oppose thy installation, than my fierce valour exerted to distress thy foe. A thousand years hence, retire to the forest, leaving thy excellent offspring to govern the kingdom. To remove to the forest after consigning their subjects to the gentle sway of their sons, was formerly the custom of the royal sages. If, O virtuous Rama, through fear of being insecure, thou desirest not to possess thine own inheritance, I protest to thee, O hero, that I will protect thee and thy kingdom as the shores protect the sea. If I fail, may I never be ranked among heroes. Be installed with these auspicious preparations, and assume the kingdom. I alone, by my single prowess, will oppose the adverse princes. These arms of mine are not intended for show, nor is my bow a mere ornament; my scymitar is not designed merely to hang by my side, nor are my arrows intended for pillars; for the sake of crushing an enemy are these intended. Once unsheathing my keen scymitar, relulgent as the lightning, I regard not even the god who wields the thunderbolt. The field shall be rendered impassable, strewed with the trunks of elephants, the thighs of horses, and the heads of charioteers. To-day the enemies slain by my flaming faulchion, falling on the ground shall cause it to resemble a land glowing with the sheeted lightning. When I stand armed with my bow, who will esteem himself a man? Now striking a single foe, and now a numerous host. I will send my shafts into the most vulnerable parts of men, horses, and elephants. To-day, O chief, shall the energy of my weapons be exerted to destroy the power of the king, and establish thine. Tell me what foe shall this day, together with his friends, lose both life and fame. Order me to do that by which these thy possessions shall be secured to thee I am at thy command.'

But Rama evinces, throughout the history, a most mi raculous power of quelling fiery spirits, and persuading refractory ones; and it is not long before this tremendous defyer of gods and mortals, is calmed down into acquiescence in the divine one's decision. Miraculous we may truly call this power, in the generality of its operations; for the effects take place contrary to any reasonable calculation on ordinary visible causes. The reasoning and eloquence by which, ostensibly, this great prince convinces and persuades, are of a kind, in point of strength, which we should have thought much more likely to leave every one's opinion and will just where they were. But, in the present instance, there was a natural and adequate cause for the effect: a full half of Vishnoo must naturally and necessarily have acted on the detached eighth part with a power ascendent by magnitude, while attractive by kindred.-His hardest and most protracted struggle is with the tenderness, the expostulations, and even formal and solemn inhibitions, of his mother; who rashly attempts to maintain, that her na tural authority is greater than that of a father. This draws from him some very high doctrine, (evidently meant by the poet as a declaration of the law,) on the subject of female subordination, and the sovereign authority of the husband. Throughout the whole work, thus far, there is not a more grave and peremptory exposition of any part of the moral theory than in this conversation, in which the enlightened one' repeatedly asserts, in so many words, that the husband is the god,' the 'tutelar deity, of the wife. His mother's grief and opposition yield before his all-controuling spirit, and dissolve at length in assenting and copious benedictions. But his opposition is constrained to yield to the heroic and decisive resolution of his wife, Seeta, to accompany him to the great forest. The gallant Lukshmuna did not permit even a question, whether he should be allowed to accompany and share the condition of the illustrious exile. During the preparations for their departure, Kikeyee is repeatedly exhibited to view in all her unrelenting barbarity, like some savage beast occasionally brought from its den to be shewn, and provoked to growl. At length, amidst a most prodigious sensation and commotion among the inhabitants, the three self-devoted exiles set off for their distant and dreary wilderness, where they arrive after many romantic adventures-which no room is now left us to narrate.

It seems scarcely proper to conclude, without some slight estimate of the morality of this famous work; but as it may not be very long before another volume will demand some notice, we shall then have a fairer opportunity.