INTRODUCTION
TO THE UPANISHADS.
FIRST
TRANSLATION OF THE UPANISHADS.
DÂRÂ
SHUKOH, ANQUETIL DUPERRON, SCHOPENHAUER.
THE
ancient Vedic literature, the foundation of the whole literature of India,
which has been handed down in that country in an unbroken succession from the
earliest times within the recollection of man to the present day, became known
for the first time beyond the frontiers of India through the Upanishads. The
Upanishads were translated from Sanskrit into Persian by, or, it may be, for
Dârâ Shukoh, the eldest son of Shâh Jehân, an enlightened prince, who openly
professed the liberal religious tenets of the great Emperor Akbar, and even
wrote a book intended to reconcile the religious doctrines of Hindus and
Mohammedans. He seems first to have heard of the Upanishads during his stay in
Kashmir in 1640. He afterwards invited several Pandits from Benares to Delhi,
who were to assist him in the work of translation. The translation was finished
in 1657. Three years after the accomplishment of this work, in 1659, the prince
was put to death by his brother Aurangzib[1], in reality, no doubt, because he
was the eldest son and legitimate successor of Shâh Jehân, but under the
pretext that he was an infidel, and dangerous to the established religion of
the empire.
When the
Upanishads had once been translated from Sanskrit into Persian, at that time
the most widely read language of the East and understood likewise by many
European scholars, they became generally accessible to
[1. Elphinstone, History of India, ed. Cowell, p. 610.]
all who
took an interest in the religious literature of India. It is true that under
Akbar's reign (1556-1586) similar translations had been prepared[1], but
neither those nor the translations of Dârâ Shukoh attracted the attention of
European scholars till the year 1775. In that year Anquetil Duperron, the
famous traveller and discoverer of the Zend-avesta, received one MS. of the
Persian translation of the Upanishads, sent to him by M. Gentil, the French
resident at the court of Shuja ud daula, and brought to France by M. Bernier.
After receiving another MS., Anquetil Duperron collated the two, and translated
the Persian translation [2] into French (not published), and into Latin. That
Latin translation was published in 1801 and 1802, under the title of
'Oupnek'hat, id est, Secreturn tegendum: opus ipsa in India rarissimum,
continens antiquam et arcanam, seu theologicam et philosophicam doctrinam, e
quatuor sacris Indorum libris Rak baid, Djedjer baid, Sam baid, Athrban baid
excerptam; ad verbum, e Persico idiomate, Samkreticis vocabulis intermixto, in
Latinum conversum: Dissertationibus et Annotationibus difficiliora
explanantibus, illustratum: studio et opera Anquetil Duperron, Indicopleustæ.
Argentorati, typis et impensis fratrum Levrault, vol. i, 1801; vol. ii, 1802
[3].'
This
translation, though it attracted considerable interest among scholars, was
written in so utterly unintelligible a style, that it required the lynxlike
perspicacity of an intrepid
[1. M. M., Introduction to the Science of Religion, p. 79.
2. Several other MSS. of this translation have since come to Iight; one
at Oxford, Codices Wilsoniani, 399 and 400. Anquetil Duperron gives the
following title of the Persian translation: 'Hanc interpretationem [tôn]
Oupnekhathai quorumvis quatuor librorum Beid, quod, designatum cum secreto
magno (per secretum magnum) est, et integram cognitionem luminis luminum, hic
Fakir sine tristitia (Sultan) Mohammed Dara Schakoh ipse, cum significatione
recta, cum sinceritate, in tempore sex mensium (postremo die, secundo [toû] Schonbeh,
vigesimo) sexto mensis [toû] Ramazzan, anno 1067 [toû] Hedjri (Christi, 1657)
in urbe Delhi, in mansione nakhe noudeh, cum absolutione ad finem fecit
pervenire.' The MS. was copied by Âtma Ram in the year 1767 A.D. Anquetil
Duperron adds: 'Absolutum est hoc Apographum versionis Latinæ [tôn]
quinquaginta Oupnekhatha, ad verbum, e Persico idiomate, Samskreticis vocabulis
intermixto, factæ, die 9 Octobris, 1796, 18 Brumaire, anni 4, Reipublic. Gall.
Parisiis.'
3 M. M., History of Ancient Sanskrit Literature, second edition, p.325.]
philosopher,
such as Schopenhauer, to discover a thread through such a labyrinth.
Schopenhauer, however, not only found and followed such a thread, but he had
the courage to proclaim to an incredulous age the vast treasures of thought
which were lying buried beneath that fearful jargon.
As Anquetil
Duperron's volumes have become scarce, I shall here give a short specimen of
his translation, which corresponds to the first sentences of my translation of
the Khândogya-upanishad (p. 1):-'Oum hoc verbum (esse) adkit ut sciveris, sic
[tò] maschghouli fac (de co meditare), quod ipsurn hoc verbum aodkit est;
propter illud quod hoc (verbum) oum, in Sam Beid, cum voce altâ, cum harmoniâ
pronunciaturn fiat.
'Adkiteh
porro cremor (optimum, selectissimum) est: quemadmodum ex (præ) omni quieto
(non moto), et moto, pulvis (terra) cremor (optimum) est; et e (præ) terra aqua
cremor est; et ex aqua, comedendum (victus) cremor est; (et) e comedendo,
comedens cremor est; et e comedente, loquela (id quod dicitur) cremor est; et e
loquela, aïet [toû] Beid, et ex aïet, [tò] siam, id est, cum harmonia
(pronunciatum); et e Sam, [tò] adkit, cremor est; id est, oum, voce alta, cum
harmonia pronunciare, aokit, cremor cremorum (optimum optimorum) est. Major, ex
(præ) adkit, cremor alter non est.'
Schopenhauer
not only read this translation carefully, but he makes no secret of it, that
his own philosophy is powerfully impregnated by the fundamental doctrines of
the Upanishads. He dwells on it again and again, and it seems both fair to
Schopenhauer's memory and highly important for a true appreciation of the
philosophical value of the Upanishads, to put together what that vigorous
thinker has written on those ancient rhapsodies of truth.
In his
'Welt als Wille und Vorstellung,' he writes, in the preface to the first
edition, p. xiii:
'If the
reader has also received the benefit of the Vedas, the access to which by means
of the Upanishads is in my eyes the greatest privilege which this still young
century (1818) may claim before all previous centuries, (for I anticipate that
the influence of Sanskrit literature will not be less profound than the revival
of Greek in the fourteenth century,)-if then the reader, I say, has received
his initiation in primeval Indian wisdom, and received it with an open heart,
he will be prepared in the very best way for hearing what I have to tell him.
It will not sound to him strange, as to many others, much less disagreeable;
for I might, if it did not sound conceited, contend that every one of the
detached statements which constitute the Upanishads, may be deduced as a
necessary result from the fundamental thoughts which I have to enunciate,
though those deductions themselves are by no means to be found there.'
And
again[1]:
'If I consider
how difficult it is, even with the assistance of the best and carefully
educated teachers, and with all the excellent philological appliances collected
in the course of this century, to arrive at a really correct, accurate, and
living understanding of Greek and Roman authors, whose language was after all
the language of our own predecessors in Europe, and the mother of our own,
while Sanskrit, on the contrary, was spoken thousands of years ago in distant
India, and can be learnt only with appliances which are as yet very
imperfect;-if I add to this the impression which the translations of Sanskrit
works by European scholars, with very few exceptions, produce on my mind, I
cannot resist a certain suspicion that our Sanskrit scholars do not understand their
texts much better than the higher class of schoolboys their Greek. Of course,
as they are not boys, but men of knowledge and understanding, they put
together, out of what they do understand, something like what the general
meaning may have been, but much probably creeps in ex ingenio. It is still
worse with the Chinese of our European Sinologues.
'If then I
consider, on the other hand, that Sultan Mohammed Dârâ Shukoh, the brother of
Aurangzib, was born and bred in India, was a learned, thoughtful, and enquiring
man, and therefore probably understood his Sanskrit about as well as we our
Latin, that moreover
[1. Schopenhauer, Parerga, third edition, II, p.426.]
he was
assisted by a number of the most learned Pandits, all this together gives me at
once a very high opinion of his translation of the Vedic Upanishads into
Persian. If, besides this, I see with what profound and quite appropriate
reverence Anquetil Duperron has treated that Persian translation, rendering it
in Latin word by word, retaining, in spite of Latin grammar, the Persian
syntax, and all the Sanskrit words which the Sultan himself had left
untranslated, though explaining them in a glossary, I feel the most perfect
confidence in reading that translation, and that confidence soon receives its
most perfect justification. For how entirely does the Oupnekhat breathe
throughout the holy spirit of the Vedas! How is every one who by a diligent
study of its Persian Latin has become familiar with that incomparable book,
stirred by that spirit to the very depth of his soul! How does every line
display its firm, definite, and throughout harmonious meaning! From every
sentence deep, original, and sublime thoughts arise, and the whole is pervaded
by a high and holy and earnest spirit. Indian air surrounds us, and original
thoughts of kindred spirits. And oh, how thoroughly is the mind here washed
clean of all early engrafted Jewish superstitions, and of all philosophy that
cringes before those superstitions! In the whole world there is no study,
except that of the originals, so beneficial and so elevating as that of the
Oupnekhat. It has been the solace of my life, it will be the solace of my
death!
'Though [1]
I feel the highest regard for the religious and philosophical works of Sanskrit
literature, I have not been able to derive much pleasure from their poetical
compositions. Nay, they seem to me sometimes as tasteless and monstrous as the
sculpture of India.
'In I most
of the pagan philosophical writers of the first Christian centuries we see the
Jewish theism, which, as Christianity, was soon to become the faith of the
people, shining through, much as at present we may perceive shining through in
the writings of the learned, the native
[1. Loc. cit. II, pp. 425.
2 Loc. cit. I, p. 59.]
pantheism
of India, which is destined sooner or later to become the faith of the people. Ex
oriente lux.'
This may
seem strong language, and, in some respects, too strong. But I thought it right
to quote it here, because, whatever may be urged against Schopenhauer, he was a
thoroughly honest thinker and honest speaker, and no one would suspect him of
any predilection for what has been so readily called Indian mysticism. That
Schelling and his school should use rapturous language about the Upanishads,
might carry little weight with that large class of philosophers by whom
everything beyond the clouds of their own horizon is labelled mysticism. But
that Schopenhauer should have spoken of the Upanishads as 'products of the
highest wisdom' (Ausgeburt der höchsten Weisheit)', that he should have placed
the pantheism there taught high above the pantheism of Bruno, Malebranche,
Spinoza, and Scotus Erigena, as brought to light again at Oxford in 1681 [2],
may perhaps secure a more considerate reception for these relics of ancient
wisdom than anything that I could say in their favour.
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