7903 He took both her hands, pressed them violently to his breast, and drew her up from the bench. "I cannot endure to sit so still! Let us look about the church," he cried. "There is not much worth seeing, I'm afraid," she answered trembling. He walked with her over to the font, in which were still some drops of the holy water; before the wedding there had been a baptism in the church. He made her bend over it with him, and look at the water in the bottom of the font. Then he dipped his finger in and touched first her forehead, then his own. "For Heaven's sake, what are you doing!" she exclaimed anxiously, quickly wiping off what she considered a blasphemous touch. "Tis a second baptism I am giving," he said with a wonderful smile. "This water blesses the birth into life, and then life goes on and on -for a long, long while; that is what is called life and is no life—and then true life suddenly comes, and one ought then to be baptized anew." She felt frightened in his presence, and said falteringly, "Come, we must find a way out through the vestry." "No," he cried, "we will first look at the crown of the dead: between birth and death our life finds its light and beauty." He led her to the stateliest crown hanging on the opposite column, and on the way he murmured with a dazed look, as if intoxicated by his happiness, a sentence from Gray which had no connection with his other thoughts, and which the surroundings only suggested: "Full many a gem of purest ray serene The dark, unfathomed caves of ocean bear; Did he think of the girl from whose coffin the glittering crown was taken? I know not. Tinsel and shining rings were hanging down in thin silk ribbons. He tore off two rings and whispered, "You are only poor rings, but I will raise you and consecrate you to costly gold." He put one on Lisbeth's hand before she could prevent him, and the other on his own. And he looked angry, his lips curled as if in exalted scorn; he laid his clutched hand on the back of her head as if he meant to revenge himself upon her for having captured his soul. In this young heart, love made. as deep marks and furrows as a forest stream rushing down a mountain. "Oswald!" she cried, and stepped back from him. It was the first time she had called him by his first name. "We can do that as well as the stupid peasants," he said, "and if no other rings are at hand, then we will take those that decorated the coffins, for life is stronger than death." "Now I am going," she whispered, tottering. Her breath came quickly, so that her bodice rose and fell. But his strong arms had already enfolded her, and lifted her and carried her up before the altar. There he put her down; she lay half unconscious in his arms, and he murmured, sobbing with the suffering and passion of his love: "Lisbeth! love! my only one! Cruel one! You little thief and robber! Forgive me! Will you be mine? mine for always?" She did not answer. Her heart beat against his; she clung close to him as if now they were but one. Her tears fell upon his breast. Then she lifted her head, and their lips met. United in this kiss, they stood a long, long time. Then he pulled her gently down upon her knees beside him, and both of them lifted their hands to the altar in prayer. But they could only repeat, "Father, dear Father in Heaven;" and they did not tire of repeating this in voices trembling with joy. They said it as confidently as if the Father they were addressing were holding out his hand to them. Finally they ceased their praying, and laid their faces silently against the altar cloth. Each had put an arm around the neck of the other; their cheeks glowed side by side, and their fingers played gently with each other's locks. Thus they both knelt for a long while silently in the sanctuary. Suddenly they felt some one touch their heads; they looked. up. The deacon was standing before them with radiant face, and held his hand on their heads in blessing. He had happened to step into the church from the vestry, and with great emotion had witnessed the betrothal which had taken place here after the wedding and in the very sight of God. He too was silent, but his eyes spoke. He drew the young man and the girl to his breast, and held his favorites close. Then he led the couple into the vestry to let them out that way. And thus all three went out of the little, bright, and quiet village church. Translated for A Library of the World's Best Literature' by Olga Flinch. INDIAN LITERATURE BY EDWARD W. HOPKINS HE literature of India resembles all other literature of remote antiquity, in that its beginnings, both in respect of age and authorship, are hidden. But though the individual authors of the Vedic Hymns, the earliest form of Indian literature, will never be known, yet the date to which may be referred this first poetic work of the Indo-Europeans can be established approximately, by means of internal evidence, as from 1500 to 1000 B. C. Some scholars incline to think that the Hymns were composed a few centuries before this; some have even imagined that 3000 B. C. is not too early a date to give to this venerable Collection,' which, however, as its name and nature imply, can be assigned to no one specific time, but is the gleaning of centuries. Neither the philological data nor the changes in style render probable so great an antiquity as 3000 B. C. The consensus of opinion of competent scholars fails to uphold this extreme view, and inclines rather to believe that the Vedic Hymns were composed between 1500 and 1000 B. C. We may think, then, of the first Indian literature as originating about this time in the northwest of India; the poets of the Hymns living for the most part on either side of the river Indus, whence they and their descendants immigrated slowly into the Punjâb. Later still, following the course of the Ganges, they planted one settlement after another along the banks of the Holy River, as they extended themselves to the southeast by means of successive victories over the wild tribes of hostile natives. It is important to bear in mind from the outset this southern trend of immigration, for it is reflected in the literature of the Aryan invaders, whose first songs sing the glory of Aryan gods and of the Aryan "white" race, as opposed to the "black" race of natives and their conquered deities. The poets that give us the first Indian literature represent a people akin to Greek, Roman, and Teuton; and like their cousins in the West, they are intensely conscious of their Aryan (that is, "noble ") blood, and profoundly contemptuous of every other race. This factor must also be remembered; for it explains some very interesting features in the later literature, when Aryan blood began to be mixed with native blood and the consciousness of racial superiority became vaguer. XIV-495 The extension of the warlike Aryans from the extreme northwest to about the vicinity of the modern Benares in the southeast is conterminous with the First Period of Indian literature. This period of literature-in contradistinction to the Sectarian (Buddhistic, etc.) literature on the one hand, and to Sanskrit literature in the strict sense of the term on the other-comprises the so-called 'Veda' or Vedic literature, which consists in turn of four fairly well demarcated sub-periods: first, the creative period of the Vedic Hymns; second, the ritual period of the prose Brahmanas, which elucidate the Hymns; third, that of the Upanishads or philosophical writings, in both prose and poetry; and fourth, that of the Sutras or manuals, which explain religious rites, and lead up to some branches of Sanskrit literature through the extension of the Sūtras' subject-matter to legal themes and to religious meditative poetry. As might be expected from a view of the contents, the literary products of these sub-periods are of very unequal value. While the Hymns are of extraordinary interest, the Brahmanas, composed by later generations, when the intellectual activity of the people was concerned not with productive but with explanatory work, are dull, inane, and childishly superstitious. But at the very end of this subperiod comes a revolt, and then are composed the Upanishads; compositions of great ability, and of lasting value for every student of religion and of literature. The Sutra period, again, is an intermediate one and of only passing interest. As said above, these four subperiods constitute the Vedic period. All that and only that which is composed in this whole period is Vedic. Every other form of Indian literature is either (1) Sanskrit; or (2) dialectic, as for instance Pali literature, Pāli being the dialect, neither Vedic nor Sanskrit, in which the most important Buddhistic works are composed. It is essential to understand exactly what "Vedic" and "Sanskrit » really mean, for in the Occident the latter is often used as if it were synonymous with Indian, whereas it actually connotes only the later Indian literature; and in the West, 'Vedic is frequently used to indicate the Vedic Hymns alone, whereas 'Veda' properly denotes Hymns, Brahmanas, Upanishads, and Sūtras,-in short, all that literature which orthodox Hindus esteem peculiarly holy. In distinction from the sacred Vedic works, Sanskrit works- that is, works composed in the refined Sanskrit language — are compositions of men who are indeed regarded as sages, but whose works are not thought to be inspired. The general distinction, then, between Vedic and Sanskrit works is that of holy writ and profane literature; though it may be said at once that no literary compositions in India were committed to writing until long after Buddha's time, the fifth century B. C. It is true, as has recently been shown, that the Hindus were acquainted with the art of making letters as early as the seventh century, when the Vedic period was closing. But letters at first were used only for cut inscriptions; they were not employed for written compositions. The chiseled rock was known in India ages before the palm leaf was scratched and lettered. It is almost inconceivable, yet it is a fact, that all of the immense literature prior to the time of Buddha, and even for some time after his age, was committed to memory by specialists, as different priests devoted their lives to learning and to handing on different branches of the traditional literature. How immense this literature was, and how great was the task to learn by heart even a single Collection of Hymns or a single Brahmana, will become obvious as the literature is reviewed in detail. At present it is sufficient to call particular attention to the fact that memorizing the sacred works of antiquity was an important factor not only in determining the kind of literature that arose at different periods, but also in conditioning the genius of the people itself. For long after writing was known, it was still considered wrong to vulgarize the sacred works by committing them to visible form; and memorizing them is still the way in which they are taught to young scholars. The result has always been and still is that memory is the best cultivated part of the Hindu scholar's mind, and is most esteemed by him. The effect of this memorizing upon the literature is apparent in many ways. Logical acumen yields to traditional wisdom; discussion of historical matters is prevented; the one who best reflects the opinion of the ancients is esteemed as a greater sage than he who thinks for himself. From these general considerations we may now turn to the detailed study of the great periods of Indian literature: the Vedic, the Sectarian, and the Sanskrit proper. To these should be added a period which can be described briefly as Modern; that is to say, the period covered by the time since the sixteenth century, during which time Indian thought has been to a marked degree under foreign influence. The literature of this last period is still Sanskrit to some extent, but many of the more important works are composed in dialect. For greater clearness of survey, a table of the periods with their subdivisions is here given. That these periods and sub-periods are not absolutely exclusive of those that precede and follow, is a matter of course. Works imitative of those of the older periods sometimes continued to be composed long after the time when arose the works on which they were modeled. But in general the successive stages of the literature are fairly well represented by the following scheme, which will serve as a guiding thread in tracing the development of the whole literature: |