25 APRIL 1868, Page 19

OLD DECCAN DAYS.*

A GOOD way to review this book would be to extract one of the stories contained in it entire, so as to show what the authors or rather collectors have done, and to add a commentary showing what they have left undone. But there are objections and hindrances to this mode of treatment, and we must endeavour in some other way to give our readers an idea of what the book is, and what it might have been. The tales included in it were related by an ayah in the service of the late Governor of Bombay, and written down for the amusement of a young lady of the family. They are excellently calculated to gladden the hearts of young people, and to entrance the youthful imagination in dreams of purple clothing, rare playthings and costly jewels. So far as the mechanical exercise of collection and the style of narration are concerned, we have no fault to find with Miss Frere's handiwork, but the name of Sir Bartle Frere led us to expect in the introduction and notes evidence of more earnest and conscientious labour. We find them, however, altogether unsatisfactory and insufficient. A simple but at the same time a wise and understanding heart is before all things necessary to redo fairy tales aright for children of a larger growth. For beneath ruddy raiment and vesture of purple and fine gold they conceal a body fearfully and wonderfully made, and at the roots of a vege- tation most wayward and fantastic in growth lie truths older than history, and ancient as the foundations of the everlasting hills. Considering what excellent opportunities the Governor of Bombay • Old Dexan Days; or, Hindoo Fairy Legends current in South India. Collected from oral tradition by 31. Frere. With an introduction and notes by Sir Bartle Frere. The illustrations by C. F. Frere. London: Murray. 1863. must have had for studying the subject, we might reasonably have expected in these days of thorough research something more than a mere narration of these tales, simple and beautiful as they are ; and it would have been interesting to all above the age of child- hood to hear something of their origin, their form iu other schools of tradition, and especially something of their true meaning and significance. As these things have been left undone, we invite the reader to go with us a little into this matter.

We had occasion some time ago, in alluding to the origin of early Roman history, to explain the distinction generally and rightly drawn between legend and myth. It is the nature of legend to associate something unusual and surprising with what is of usual, not unnatural occurrence. At the base of legend lies some historical fact which in transmission through the popular mouth has been, more or less unconsciously, exaggerated and made beautiful or hideous until it becomes wonderful. On the other hand, the root and genetic motive of myth is a definite idea, and the related event is only the means which the poet uses to bring the idea into view. The distinction is clear and strict, but when we come to apply it to a given tradition, we often find that we have a task of difficulty and doubt. Thus to those who hold that the story of the Trojan war is based upon a historical fact, decked out by the imagination with natural exaggerations and supernatural phenomena, it is legendary ; to those who believe that the story of the rape of Helen is only another version of the rape of Persephone, it is mythical. Now, of fairy tales it used to be held that they were the offspring of unbridled fancy and reckless imagination, with no more internal connection than the figures of a dream. But when we get to understand them, we find in them a subtle, lovely thread of connection, finer than all the arts of poetry could bring together, leading back, like myths, to an original defi- nite idea, through lost beliefs existing only in this disguise. The first pure ideal myths were expressions for the powers of nature under the symbol of beings, endowed with supernatural faculties, whom we speak of as the gods. Thus, in the south of Europe, the changes of summer and winter were represented in the story of Persephone ; in the north, in the elder Edda, in the myth of Brynhild and Sigurd. The continually progressive changes of belief mixed up with what had originally been the creed of natu- ral religion, foreign and grosser matter, and the old faith passed into the epic element which found expression for the same natural phenomenon in the Nibelungen-Lied. At a still later stage the fundamental religious idea, which lay at the bottom of these divine and heroic myths, became interchanged and incorporated with more popular notions, and, as the old faith became incomprehensible, the poetical imagination of the people, distinguished from the severer order of intellect, which had originated the first sublime concep- tions, by a certain quaintness and waywardness of fancy, adapted it to a sensuous intelligible form, amiable in its simplicity and variety, but, at the same time, concealing and confusing the original meaning and purport under the garb of fable. As Grimm expresses it, in terms which it is not easy to render into English, Des Sonnenauge des Geistes wurde auf den farbigen Platten- spiegel der Dichtung vertheilt. In this process, although much was repressed and much exaggerated, the genetic idea was never extinguished, and in the charming fairy tale of Dornroschen, or the Sleeping Beauty, we recognize the same motive which prompted the myth of Brynhild and Sigurd, and the romance of the Nibel- ungen- Lied .

It would be a real labour of love to expand these ideas more amply and fully, but we must now proceed to illustrate the method of inquiry to which they point, out of the work under our notice, and we shall therefore select the story of " Little Surya Bai," giving such an outline of its essential points as space will allow, and endeavouring to ascertain by collateral inquiry their real meaning and significance.

Once upon a time, a milkwoman having placed her little daugh- ter and her milk-cans on the ground, sat down to rest by the road- side, when, on a sudden, two large eagles flew over head, and one of them, swooping down, seized and flew off with the child to a nest far away in a lofty tree. The nest was of iron and wood, and had seven iron doors. Here the child was guarded in all love by the eagles, who called her Surya Bai, or the Sun Lady ; and they continually brought her from remote lands precious jewels, wonder- ful playthings, and rare and costly clothes. But one day, when the eagles had gone off to the Red Sea to fetch a diamond ring for the little lady, the fire, which was always kept burning in the nest, went out. So Surya Bai, having climbed down from the tree, went in search of a light to rekindle her fire, and came to the house of a Rakshas.' Ile Rakshas was out, but his mother, who kept house for him, did her best to detain Surya Bai until his

return, thinking what a dainty morsel she would make for her son. At last Surya Bai would wait no longer, and returned to her nest, to which she was afterwards followed by the Rakshas, who, how- ever, was unable to get through the great iron outer door, which Surya Bai had made fast. In his efforts to force open the door he broke off one of his finger-nails, which he left sticking in the crack, and when next day the little lady came to open the door, it ran into her hand, and she fell down dead. Not long after, the nest with SuTya Bai lying in it, apparently lifeless, but not cold as the dead are cold, was found by a great King who was passing that way. The King, finding a long sharp thing like a thorn sticking in her hand, pulled it out, and then Surya Bai came to life again and opened her eyes. He then took her home and made her his wife ; but he was already married, and the first Ranee or Queen was very jealous of her beautiful rival. One day this cruel Ranee enticed Surya Bai down to a water tank, pushed her into it, and she was drowned. And from the place where she fell there sprang up a golden sunflower, which, when the King went down to the tank, gently bent its head, and leaned towards him. And the King got so fond of the flower that the Ranee had it taken into the jungle and burnt. Then in the place where the ashes lay there sprang up a mango tree, and on its topmost bough there came first a blossom and then a fruit so beautiful that all the people came to see it, and no one touched it, for it was to be kept for the Rajah. Now one day the poor milkwoman, Surya Bai's mother, was resting under the tree when the beautiful fruit fell into one of her milk-cans; and when she reached home and opened the can, she saw in it a tiny wee lady richly dressed in red and gold and no bigger than a mango, and on her head shone a bright jewel like a little sun. This was of course Surya Bai, who after a time was found by her husband and restored to him.

Such are the essential particulars of the story, and its interpre- tation is in this wise. In the Hymns of the Veda the good and pleasant things of the world are frequently alluded to as milk, while the earth is compared to a cow. In a hymn addressed to the earth in the Atharva Veda the following verses occur :—

" May the Earth and World, which the gods, that never slumber, guard without ceasing, yield us sweet and pleasant things as it were milk ; may they shower down honour upon us."

" May the Earth, on which the waters flow night and day, and fall not, going round about continually ; may the Earth give us milk in a thou- sand streams, and shower down honour upon us."

"May Earth, which the Aswius meted out, on which Vishnu. bath stepped, which plenipotent India bath rid of all his enemies, may Earth pour out her milk—mother Earth to me her son."

And again :— " May the World, that holdeth everywhere people of different tongnes, of various customs according to their homes, yield me a thousand sources of pleasure, like a mulch cow that doth not kick against the milker."

And again :— " May the peaceful Earth, whose fragrance is excellent, whose breasts contain the heavenly milk, whose breasts are full of milk, may the World bless me as it were with milk."

"Thou art the capacious vessel of humanity, bestowing all desires as it were milk, and art not exhausted ; that which thou lackest may the Lord of Creation fill up—the firstborn of righteousness."

The milkwoman therefore is none other than bounteous mother Earth, and Surya Bai, her beautiful daughter, is the loveliness of nature, the beauty of flowers, of spring and of summer, the sweet- ness and light of nature. The two eagles are the clouds of sun- rise and sunset, a frequent subject of allusion in the Vedic Hymns.

They are connected with the invigorating power of rain, as it is written, " To the Earth be honour,—to the Earth, on which the rain drops fatness." "Darkness and twilight are disposed, day and night are ordered on the Earth ; the Earth and World are covered by the rains ; may they grant us a pleasant home, that it

may be well with us." The nest with its seven iron doors is nature's secret workshop, in the ground and in the womb, and Surya Bai's stay in the nest is the period between seed-sowing and germination, between conception and parturition, " the conceal- ment in secret," to use the language of the Veda, " of the vessel

which was to yield pleasure for the enjoyment of the sons of the noble mother." The fire in the nest is of course the quickening power of heat, Agni. " May Earth, which holdeth the Fire whose presence is in all men, grant us the object of our desire. Fire (Agni) is in the Earth, in herbs ; the waters contain fire ; fire is in the flint rock ; fire is in men ; in cattle and in horses are many fires. Fire shineth forth from heaven ; the wide firmament is the

place of the god Agni." The seven doors may be compared with the sapta sindhavas or seven rivers of plenty referred to in the ancient hymns in connection with nature. The visit of Surya

Bai to the house of the Rakshas, again, symbolizes the dangers attending the first germs of life from the rude powers of the elements, collectively associated under the generic term of Rakshas. In a verse of the Atharva Hymn to the Earth they are named more particularly. "Defend us, 0 Earth! from the Gandharvas and the Apsaras, the Araya and the Kimadin, the Pisacha, and all the family of the Rakshas." Here the first two names refer re- spectively to the pernicious effects of ill odours and the decaying properties of water, the others it is not easy to define so strictly. In the popular tales of Wallachia it is common to meet with a supernatural being called Smow, whose characteristics very closely resemble those of the Rakshas ; and as in the case of the latter, his mother Smeone keeps house for him. Both are alluded to, sometimes distinctly as elements of nature, at other times as magicians or ogres with human forms and fashions. In the story of Brave Seventee Bai the Rakshas feeding on a corpse swinging on the gallows betokens the decaying properties of the atmo- sphere. The manner of Surya Bai's death at once recalls the death sleep of Brynhild and the Sleeping Beauty, and the funda- mental idea is one and the same,—the slumber of Nature's beautifying powers during the winter. Further, the marriage of the great King with Surya Bai represents the union of the fructifying and parturient powers, which is the motive of a legend often alluded to in the ancient hymns of India,—the marriage of Surya, the daughter of Savitar, with Soma. " With the odour of thee, 0 Earth ! which has penetrated the firmament —the odour, which of old the immortals gathered and brought to the marriage feast of Surya,—with that do thou make me fragrant." If we take the sun as symbolic of the male generative functions of Nature, we may interpret the great Rajah as the sun. Thus, there is a desire expressed in the Veda, "May Fire, Sun, and Water, and all the gods give me wisdom." Surya Bai has therefore been subject to the influence of Fire and the Sun, she has to be resuscitated out of Water. But now a word touching the first Ranee. In the story of Brave Seventee Bai, or the Daisy Lady, who is equally an incarnation of the loveliness of nature, the first Ranee again appears as Parbuttee Bai. She represents the fixed and stable foundations of nature. If we compare Seventee Bai and Surya Bai with Ceres, we shall find an equivalent for Parbuttee Bai in Terra. As Ovid says,—

"(Mach= commune Ceres et Terra tnentur, Ham proabot causam frugibus ills locum."

Here, where the first Ranee is hostile to Surya Bai, she may be taken as indicating the sterility of Nature. " The earth is formed of rock, and flint, and dust ; the earth is firmly wrought together and established. Where the timber trees stand fast for evermore, even to the world which upholdeth all things, which is surely founded, let us render praise." The journey of the eagles to the Red Sea to get a diamond as the most perfect and precious gift for Surya Bai, and the resuscitation of Surya Bai, as a sunflower, out of the water both refer to the same conception which suggested the birth of Aphrodite out of the Sea,—the production of the most exalted natural beauty out of that element. In the same spirit the island of Delos is said to have risen out of the ocean at the birth of the God of light. Last of all the beautiful mango drop- ping into the milkwoman's can obviously suggests the fall of the ripe and perfect fruit into the bosom of mother Earth, and Surya Bai's revival and reunion with the great King the resurrection of the seed and its restoration, in the fullness of time, to the quicken- ing influences of light and summer and the sun. And here we may close our remarks, leaving, as we trust, in the hands of the reader a thread which will enable him to wander with safety through the ruins of ancient wisdom and the labyrinths of popular poetry.