SRI AUROBINDO

Hymns to the Mystic Fire

The Vamadeva Hymns to Agni

Introduction

The interpretation of the Rig-veda is perhaps the most difficult and disputed question with which the scholarship of today has to deal. This difficulty and dispute are not the creation of present-day criticism; it has existed in different forms since very early times. To what is this incertitude due? Partly, no doubt, it arises from the archaic character of a language in which many of the words were obsolete when ancient Indian scholars tried to systematise the traditional learning about the Veda, and especially the great number of different meanings of which the old Sanskrit words are capable. But there is another and more vital difficulty and problem. The Vedic hymns are full of figures and symbols,— of that there can be no least doubt,— and the question is, what do these symbols represent, what is their religious or other significance? Are they simply mythological figures with no depth of meaning behind them? Are they the poetic images of an old Nature-worship, mythological, astronomical, naturalistic, symbols of the action of physical phenomena represented as the action of the gods? Or have they another and more mystic significance? If this question could be solved with any indubitable certitude, the difficulty of language would be no great obstacle; certain hymns and verses might remain obscure, but the general sense, drift, purport of the ancient hymns could be made clear. But the singular feature of the Veda is that none of these solutions, at least as they have been hitherto applied, gives a firm and satisfactory outcome. The hymns remain confused, bizarre, incoherent, and the scholars are obliged to take refuge in the gratuitous assumption that this incoherence is a native character of the text and does not arise from their own ignorance of its central meaning. But so long as we can get no farther than this point, the doubt, the debate must continue.

A few years ago I wrote a series of articles in which I suggested an explanation of the ambiguous character of the Veda. My suggestion hinged on this central idea that these hymns were written in a stage of religious culture which answered to a similar period in Greece and other ancient countries,— I do not suggest that they were contemporary or identical in cult and idea,— a stage in which there was a double face to the current religion, an outer for the people, profanum vulgus, an inner for the initiates, the early period of the Mysteries. The Vedic Rishis were mystics who reserved their inner knowledge for the initiates; they shielded them from the vulgar by the use of an alphabet of symbols which could not readily be understood without the initiation, but were perfectly clear and systematic when the signs were once known. These symbols centred around the idea and forms of the sacrifice; for the sacrifice was the universal and central institution of the prevailing cult. The hymns were written round this institution and were understood by the vulgar as ritual chants in praise of the Nature-gods, Indra, Agni, Surya Savitri, Varuna, Mitra and Bhaga, the Ashwins, Ribhus, Maruts, Rudra, Vishnu, Saraswati, with the object of provoking by the sacrifice the gifts of the gods,— cows, horses, gold and other forms of wealth of a pastoral people, victory over enemies, safety in travel, sons, servants, prosperity, every kind of material good fortune. But behind this mask of primitive and materialistic naturalism, lay another and esoteric cult which would reveal itself if we once penetrated the meaning of the Vedic symbols. That once caught and rightly read, the whole Rig-veda would become clear, consequent, a finely woven, yet straightforward tissue.

According to my theory the outer sacrifice represented in these esoteric terms an inner sacrifice of self-giving and communion with the gods. These gods are powers, outwardly of physical, inwardly of psychical nature. Thus Agni outwardly is the physical principle of fire, but inwardly the god of the psychic godward flame, force, will, Tapas; Surya outwardly the solar light, inwardly the god of the illuminating revelatory knowledge; Soma outwardly the moon and the Soma-wine or nectarous moon-plant, inwardly the god of the spiritual ecstasy, Ananda. The principal psychical conception of this inner Vedic cult was the idea of the Satyam, Ritam, Brihat, the Truth, the Law, the Vast. Earth, Air and Heaven symbolised the physical, vital and mental being, but this Truth was situated in the greater Heaven, base of a triple Infinity actually and explicitly mentioned in the Vedic Riks, and it meant therefore a state of spiritual and supramental illumination. To get beyond earth and sky to Swar, the Sun-world, seat of this illumination, home of the gods, foundation and seat of the Truth, was the achievement of the early Fathers, pūrve pitaraḥ, and of the seven Angiras Rishis who founded the Vedic religion. The solar gods, children of Infinity, Adityas, were born in the Truth and the Truth was their home, but they descended into the lower planes and had in each plane their appropriate functions, their mental, vital and physical cosmic motions. They were the guardians and increasers of the Truth in man and by the Truth, ṛtasya pathāḥ, led him to felicity and immortality. They had to be called into the human being and increased in their functioning, formed in him, brought in or born, devavīti, extended, devatāti, united in their universality, vaiśvadevya.

The sacrifice was represented at once as a giving and worship, a battle and a journey. It was the centre of a battle between the Gods aided by Aryan men on one side and the Titans or destroyers on the opposite faction, Dasyus, Vritras, Panis, Rakshasas, later called Daityas and Asuras, between the powers of the Truth or Light and the powers of falsehood, division, darkness. It was a journey, because the sacrifice travelled from earth to the gods in their heaven, but also because it made ready the path by which man himself travelled to the Home of the Truth. This journey opposed by the Dasyus, thieves, robbers, tearers, besiegers (Vritras) was itself a battle. The giving was an inner giving. All the offerings of the outer sacrifice, the cow and its yield, the horse, the Soma were symbols of the dedication of inner powers and experiences to the Lords of Truth. The divine gifts, result of the outer sacrifice, were also symbols of inner divine gifts, the cows of the divine light symbolised by the herds of the sun, the horse of strength and power, the son of the inner godhead or divine man created by the sacrifice, and so through the whole list. This symbolic duplication was facilitated by the double meaning of the Vedic words; go, for instance, means both cow and ray; the cows of the dawn and the sun, Heaven’s boes Helioi, are the rays of the sun-god, Lord of Revelation, even as in Greek mythology Apollo the sun-god is also the Master of poetry and of prophecy. Ghṛta means clarified butter, but also the bright thing; soma means the wine of the moon-plant, but also delight, honey, sweetness, madhu. This is the conception, all other features are subsidiary to this central idea. The suggestion seems to me a perfectly simple one, neither out of the way and recondite, nor unnatural to the mentality of the early human peoples.

There are certain a priori objections which can be brought against this theory. One may be urged against it from the side of Western scholarship. It may be objected that there is no need for all this mystification, that there is no sign of it in the Veda unless we choose to read it into the primitive mythology, that it is not justified by the history of religion or of the Vedic religion, that it was a refinement impossible to an ancient and barbaric mind. None of these objections can really stand. The Mysteries in Egypt and Greece and elsewhere were of a very ancient standing and they proceeded precisely on this symbolic principle, by which outward myth and ceremony and cult-objects stood for secrets of an inward life or knowledge. It cannot therefore be argued that this mentality was non-existent, impossible in antique times or any more impossible or improbable in India, the country of the Upanishads, than in Egypt and Greece. The history of ancient religion does show a transmutation of physical Nature-gods into representatives of psychical powers or rather an addition of psychical to physical functions; but the latter in some instances gave place to the less external significance. I have given the example of Helios replaced in later times by Apollo; just so in the Vedic religion Surya undoubtedly becomes a god of inner light, the famous Gayatri verse and its esoteric interpretation are there to prove it as well as the constant appeal of the Upanishads to Vedic Riks or Vedic symbols taken in a psychological and spiritual sense, e.g. the four closing verses of the Isha Upanishad. Hermes, Athena represent in classical mythology psychical functions, but were originally Nature-gods, Athena probably a dawn-goddess. I contend that Usha in the Veda shows us this transmutation in its commencement. Dionysus the wine-god was intimately connected with the Mysteries; he was given a similar role to Soma, the wine-god of the Vedas.

But the question is whether there is anything to show that there was actually such a doubling of functions in the Veda. Now, in the first place, how was the transition effected from the alleged purely materialistic Nature-worship of the Vedas to the extraordinary psychological and spiritual knowledge of the Upanishads unsurpassed in their subtlety and sublimity in ancient times? There are three possible explanations. First, this sudden spirituality may have been brought in from outside; it is hastily suggested by some scholars that it was taken from an alleged highly spiritual non-Aryan southern culture; but this is an assumption, a baseless hypothesis for which no proof has been advanced; it rests as a surmise in the air without foundation. Secondly, it may have developed from within by some such transmutation as I have suggested, but subsequent to the composition of all but the latest Vedic hymns. Still, even then, it was effected on the basis of the Vedic hymns; the Upanishads claim to be a development from the Vedic knowledge, Vedanta, repeatedly appeal to Vedic texts, regard Veda as a book of knowledge. The men who gave the Vedantic knowledge are everywhere represented as teachers of the Veda. Why then should we rigidly assume that this development took place subsequent to the composition of the bulk of the Vedic mantras? For the third possibility is that the whole ground had already been prepared consciently by the Vedic mystics. I do not say that the inner Vedic knowledge was identical with the Brahmavada. Its terms were different, its substance was greatly developed, much lost or rejected, much added, old ideas shed, new interpretation made, the symbolic element reduced to a minimum and replaced by clear and open philosophic phrases and conceptions. Certainly, the Vedic mantras had already become obscure and ill-understood at the time of the Brahmanas. And still the ground work may have been there from the beginning. It is, of course, in the end a question of fact; but my present contention is only that there is no a priori impossibility, but rather a considerable probability or at least strong possibility in favour of my suggestion. I will put my argument in this way. The later hymns undoubtedly contain a beginning of the Brahmavada; how did it begin, had it no root origins in the earlier mantras? It is certain that some of the gods, Varuna, Saraswati, had a psychological as well as a physical function. I go further and say that this double function can everywhere be traced in the Veda with regard to other gods, as for instance, Agni and even the Maruts. Why not then pursue the inquiry on these lines and see how far it will go? There is at least a prima facie ground for consideration, and to begin with, I demand no more. An examination of the actual text of the hymns can alone show how far the inquiry will be justified or produce results of a high importance.

Another a priori objection comes from the side of orthodox tradition. What it amounts to is an objection to go behind the authority of Sayana, who belongs to an age at least two or three thousand years later than the Veda, and of Yaska, the ancient lexicographer. Besides, the Veda is currently regarded as karmakāṇda, a book of ritual works, the Vedanta only as jñānakāṇda, a book of knowledge. In an extreme orthodox standpoint it is objected that reason, the critical faculty, the historical argument have nothing to do with the question; the Vedas are beyond such tests, in form and substance eternal, in interpretation only to be explained by traditional authority. That attitude is one with which I am not concerned; I am seeking for the truth of this matter and I cannot be stopped by a denial of my right to seek for any truth contrary to tradition. But if in a more moderate form the argument be that when there is an unbroken and consistent ancient tradition, there is no justification in going behind it, then the obvious reply is that there is no such thing. Sayana moves amidst a constant uncertainty, gives various possibilities, fluctuates in his interpretations. Not only so, but though usually faithful to the ritualistic and external sense he distinguishes and quotes occasionally various ancient schools of interpretation, one of which is spiritual and philosophic and finds the sense of the Upanishads in the Veda. Even he feels himself obliged sometimes, though very rarely, to follow its suggestions. And if we go back to the earliest times we see that the Brahmanas give a mystically ritualistic interpretation of the Veda, the Upanishads treat the Riks as a book not of ritual, but of spiritual knowledge. There is therefore nothing fantastically new or revolutionary in an attempt to fix the psychological and spiritual purport of the Rig-veda.

A last objection remains that the interpretation of the Veda has been a field for the exercise of the most extraordinary ingenuity, each attempt arriving at widely different results, and mine is only one ingenuity the more. If it were so, then I stand in good company. The interpretations of Sayana are packed with the most strained and far-fetched ingenuities, which not unoften light-heartedly do violence to grammar, syntax, order, connection, on the idea that the Rishis were in no way restrained by these things. Yaska is full of etymological and other ingenuities, some of them of a most astonishing kind. The scholarship of Europe has built up by a system of ingenious guesses and deductions a new version and evolved the history, true or imaginative, of an Aryan invasion and a struggle between Aryan and Dravidian which was never before suspected in the long history of Vedic interpretation. The same charge has been brought against Swami Dayananda’s commentary. Nevertheless, the universality of the method does not make it valid, nor have I any need to take refuge in this excuse, which is not a justification. If my or any interpretation is got by a straining of the text, a licentious or fantastic rendering or a foreign importation, then it can have no real value. The present volume, which I hope to make the first of a series, is intended to show my method actually at work and dispel this objection by showing the grounds and justification.

I hold that three processes are necessary for a valid interpretation of the Veda. First, there must be a straightforward rendering word by word of the text which shall stick to a plain and simple sense at once suggested by the actual words, no matter what the result may be. Then, this result has to be taken and it has to be seen what is its actual purport and significance. That meaning must be consistent, coherent with itself; it must show each hymn as a whole in itself proceeding from idea to idea, linked together in sequence, as any literary creation of the human mind must be linked which has not been written by lunatics or is not merely a string of disconnected cries. It is impossible to suppose that these Rishis, competent metrists, possessed of a style of great power and mobility, composed without the sequence of ideas which is the mark of all adequate literary creation. And if we suppose them to be divinely inspired, mouthpieces of Brahman or the Eternal, there is no ground for supposing that the divine wisdom is more incoherent in its word than the human mind, it should rather be more luminous and satisfying in its totality. Finally, if a symbolic interpretation is put on any part of the text, it must arise directly and clearly from suggestions and language of the Veda itself and must not be brought in from outside.

A few words may be useful on each of these points. The first rule I follow is to try to get at the simplest and straightforward sense to which the Rik is open, not to strain, twist and involve. The Vedic style is terse, but natural, it has its strong brevities and some ellipses, but all the same it is essentially simple and goes straight to its object. Where it seems obscure, it is because we do not know the meaning of the words or miss the clue to the idea. Even if at one or two places, it seems to be tortured, that is no reason why we should put the whole Veda on the rack or even in these places torture it still worse in the effort to get at a sense. Where the meaning of a word has to be fixed, this difficulty comes either because we have no clue to the true meaning or because it is capable in the language of several meanings. In the latter case I follow certain fixed canons. First, if the word is one of the standing terms of the Veda intimately bound up with its religious system, then I must first find one single meaning which attaches to it wherever it occurs; I am not at liberty to vary its sense from the beginning according to my pleasure or fancy or sense of immediate fitness. If I interpret a book of obscure Christian theology, I am not at liberty to interpret freely the constantly recurring word grace sometimes as the influx of the divine favour, sometimes as one of the three Graces, sometimes as charm of beauty, sometimes as grace marks in an examination, sometimes as the name of a girl. If in one it evidently bears this or that sense and can have no other, if it has no reference to the ordinary meaning, then indeed it is different; but I must not put in one of these other meanings where the normal sense fits the context. In other cases I may have greater freedom, but this freedom must not degenerate into licence. Thus the word ṛtam may signify, we are told, truth, sacrifice, water, motion and a number of other things. Sayana interprets freely without obvious rule or reason according to any of them and sometimes gives us no alternative; not only does he interpret it variously in different hymns, but in three different senses in the same hymn or even in the same line. I hold this to be quite illegitimate. Ritam is a standing term of the Veda and I must take it consistently. If I find truth to be its sense in that standing significance, I must so interpret it always, unless in any given passage it evidently means water or sacrifice or the man who has gone and cannot mean truth. To translate so striking a phrase as ṛtasya panthāḥ in one passage as the “path of truth”, in another “the path of sacrifice”, in another “the path of water”, in another “the path of the one who has gone” is a sheer licence, and if we follow such a method, there can be no sense for the Veda except the sense of our own individual caprice. Then again we have the word Deva, which undoubtedly means in ninety-nine places out of a hundred, one of the shining ones, a god. Even though this is not so vital a term as ṛtam, still I must not take it in the sense of a priest or intelligent man or any other significance, where the word ‘god’ gives a good and sufficient meaning unless it can be shown that it is undoubtedly capable of another sense in the mouth of the Rishis. On the other hand, a word like ari means sometimes a fighter, one’s own champion, sometimes a hostile fighter, assailant, enemy, sometimes it is an adjective and seems almost equivalent to arya or even ārya. But mark that these are all well-connected senses. Dayananda insists on a greater freedom of interpretation to suit the context. Saindhava, he says, means a horse or rock-salt; where it is a question of eating we must interpret as salt, where it is a question of riding, as horse. That is quite obvious; but the whole question in the Veda is, what is the bearing of the context, what are its connections? If we interpret according to our individual sense of what the context ought to mean, we are building on quicksands. The only safe rule is to fix the sense usually current in the Veda and admit variations only where they are evident from the context. Where the ordinary sense makes a good meaning, I ought to accept it; it does not at all matter that that is not the meaning I should like it to have or the one suitable to my theory of the Veda. But how to fix the meaning? We can evidently do it only on the totality or balance of the evidence of all the passages in which the word occurs and, after that, on its suitability to the general sense of the Veda. If I show that ṛtam in all passages can mean truth, in a great number of passages, but not by any means all, sacrifice, in only a few water, and in hardly any, motion, and this sense, truth, fits in with the general sense of the Veda then I consider I have made out an unanswerable case for taking it in that significance. In the cases of many words this can be done; in others we have to strike a balance. There remain the words of which frankly we do not know the meaning. Here we have to use the clue of etymology and then to test the meaning or possible meanings we arrive at by application to the passages in which the word occurs, taking into consideration where necessary not only the isolated Riks, but the context around, and even the general sense of Veda. In a few cases the word is so rare and obscure that only a quite conjectural meaning can be attached to it.

When we have got the rendering of the text, we have to see to what it amounts. Here what we have to do is to see the connections of the ideas in the verse itself, next its connection if any, with the ideas in the verses that precede and follow and with the general sense of the hymn; next parallel passages and ideas and hymns and finally the place of the whole in the scheme of ideas of the Veda. Thus in IV.7 we have the line अग्ने कदा त आनुषग् भुवद् चेतनम् (agne kadā ta ānuṣag bhuvad cetanam), and I render it, “O Flame, when shall there be in uninterrupted sequence the awakening (to knowledge or consciousness) of thee the god (the shining or luminous One)?” But the question I have to put is this, “Does this mean the constant burning of the physical fire on the altar and the ordered sequence of the physical sacrifice, or does it mean the awakening to constant developing knowledge or ordered conscious action of knowledge of the divine Flame in man?” I note that in the next Rik (3) Agni is described as the possessor of truth (or of sacrifice?), the entirely wise, ऋतावानं विचेतसं (ṛtāvānaṃ vicetasam), (in 4) as the vision or knowledge, the perception shining for each creature, केतुम् ... भृगवाणं विशेविशे (ketum... bhṛgavāṇaṃ viśeviśe), (in 5) as the Priest who knows, होतरम् ... चिकित्वांसम् (hotāram... cikitvāsam), (in 6) as the bright one in the secrecy who has perfect knowledge, चित्रं ... गुहा हितं सुवेदम् (citraṃ... guhā hitam suvedam), (in 7 and 8) as coming possessed of the truth for the sacrifice when the gods rejoice in the seat of the Truth, as the messenger, ऋतस्य धामन्रणयंत देवाः ... वेरध्वराय सदमिदृतावा ... दूत ईयसे (ṛtsya dhāman raṇayanta devāḥ... veradhvarāya sadamidṛtāvā... dūta īyase). All this is ample warrant for taking Agni not merely as the physical flame on the altar, but as a flame of divine knowledge guiding the sacrifice and mediating between man and the gods. The balance is also, though not indisputably, in favour of taking it as a reference to the inner sacrifice under the cover of the outer symbols; for why should there be so much stress on divine knowledge if the question were only of a physical sacrifice for physical fruits? I know that he is the priest, sage, messenger, eater, swift traveller and warrior. How are these ideas, both successive and interwoven in the Veda, connected together? Is it the physical sacred flame that is all these things or the inner sacred flame? There is sufficient warrant even in provisionally taking it for the inner flame; but to be sure I cannot rely on this one Rik. I have to note the evolution of the same ideas in other hymns, to study all the hymns dedicated to Agni or in which he is mentioned, to see whether there are passages in which he is undoubtedly the inner flame and what light they shed on his whole physiognomy. Only then shall I be in a position to judge certainly the significance of the Vedic Fire.

This example will show the method I follow in regard to the third question, the interpretation of the Vedic symbols. That there are a mass of figures and symbols in the hymns, there can be no doubt. The instances in this 7th hymn of the Fourth Mandala are sufficient by themselves to show how large a part they play. In the absence of any contemporary evidence of the sense which the Rishis attached to them, we have to seek for their meaning in the Veda itself. Obviously, where we do not know we cannot do without a hypothesis, and my hypothesis is that of the outer material form as a significant symbol of an inner spiritual meaning. But this or any hypothesis can have no real value if it is brought in from outside, if it is not suggested by the words and indications of the Veda itself. The Brahmanas are too full of ingenuities; they read too much and too much at random into the text. The Upanishads give a better light and we may get hints from later work and even from Sayana and Yaska, but it would be dangerous at once to read back literally the ideas of a later mentality into this exceedingly ancient scripture. We must start from and rely on the Veda to interpret the Veda. We have to see, first, whether there are any plain and evident psychological and spiritual conceptions, what they are, what clue they give us, secondly, whether there are any indications of psychological meanings for physical symbols and how the outer physical is related to the inner psychological side. Why, for instance, is the Flame Agni called the seer and knower? Why are the rivers called the waters that have knowledge? Why are they said to ascend or get on the mind? And a host of other similar questions. The answer again must be found by a minute comparative study of the Vedic hymns themselves. In this volume I proceed by development. I take each hymn, get at its first meaning; I see whether there are any psychological indications and what is their force and what their interweaving and relation to the other surrounding ideas. I proceed thus from hymn to hymn linking them together by their identical or similar ideas, figures, expressions. In this way it may be possible to arrive at a clear and connected interpretation of the Veda.

This method supposes that the hymns of the Rig-veda are one whole composed by different Rishis, but on the basis of a substantially identical and always similar knowledge and one system of figures and symbols. This, I think, is evident on the very surface of the Veda. The only apparent exceptions are certain hymns, mostly in the tenth Mandala, which seem to belong to a later development, some almost purely ritualistic, others more complex and developed in symbol than the body of the Riks, others clearly announcing philosophical ideas with a modicum of symbol, the first voices which announce the coming of the Upanishads. Some hymns are highly archaic, others of a more clear and relatively modern type. But for the most part throughout we find the same substance, the same images, ideas, standing terms, the same phrases and expressions. Otherwise the problem would be insoluble; as it is, the Veda itself gives a key to the Veda.

The hymns I have chosen for a beginning are the fifteen hymns of Vamadeva to Agni. I take them in the order that suits me, for the first few are highly charged with symbol and therefore to us obscure and recondite. It is better to proceed from the simple to the difficult, for so we shall get better the preliminary clue which may help us through the obscurity of the earlier hymns.

Agni, the Lord of Fire, is physically the god of the sacrificial flame, the fire found in the tinders, in the plants, in the waters, the lightning, the fire of the sun, the fiery principle of heat and light, tapas, tejas, wherever it is found. The question is whether he is also the same principle in the psychical world. If he is, then he must be that psychological principle called Tapas in the later terminology. The Vedic Agni has two characteristics, knowledge and a blazing power, light and fiery force. This suggests that he is the force of the universal Godhead, a conscious force or Will instinct with knowledge,— that is the nature of Tapas,— which pervades the world and is behind all its workings. Agni then in the psychical and spiritual sense of his functions would be the fire of a Will doing the works of its own inherent and innate knowledge. He is the seer, कविः (kaviḥ), the supreme mover of thought, प्रथमो मनोता (prathamo manotā), the mover too of speech and the Word, उपवक्ता जनानाम् (upavaktā janānām), the power in the heart that works, हृदिस्पृशं क्रतुम (hṛdispṛśaṃ kratuma), the impeller of action and movement, the divine guide of man in the act of sacrifice. He is the Priest of the sacrifice, Hotri, he who calls and brings the gods and gives to them the offering, the Ritwik, who sacrifices in right order and right season, the purifying priest, Potri, the Purohita, he who stands in front as the representative of the sacrificer, the conductor of the sacrifice, Adhwaryu; he combines all the sacred offices. It is evident that these functions all belong to the divine Will or conscient power in man which awakes in the inner sacrifice. This Fire has built all the worlds; this creative Power, Agni Jatavedas, knows all the births, all that is in the worlds; he is the messenger who knows earth, knows how to ascend the difficult slope of heaven, ārodhanaṃ divaḥ, आरोधनं दिवः, knows the way to the home of the Truth; he mediates between God and man. These things apply only with difficulty to the god of physical fire; they are of a striking appropriateness if we take a larger view of the divine nature and functions of the god Agni. He is a god of the earth, a force of material being, अवमः (avamaḥ); but he seems to be a vital (Pranic) force of will in desire, devouring, burning through his own smoke; and again he is a mental power. Men see him like heaven with stars द्यामिव स्तृभिः (dyāmiva stṛbhiḥ); heaven and the mid-world and earth are his portion. But again he is a god of Swar, one of the solar deities; he manifests himself as Surya; he is born in the Truth, a master of Truth, a guardian of Truth and Immortality, a getter and keeper of the shining herds, the eternal Youth, and he renews the youth of these mystic cattle. He is triply extended in the Infinite. All these functions cannot be predicated of the god of physical fire; but they are all just attributes of the conscient divine Will in man and the universe. He is the horse of battle and the horse of swiftness and again he gives the white horse; he is the son and he creates for man the son. He is the warrior and he brings to man the heroes of his battle. He destroys by his flame the Dasyu and the Rakshasa; he is a Vritra-slayer. Are we to see here the slayer only of mortal Dravidians or of the demons who oppose the sacrifice? He is born in a hundred ways; from the plants, from the tinder, from the waters. His parents are the two Aranis, but again his parents are Earth and Heaven, and there is a word which seems to combine both meanings. Are not the two Aranis then a symbol of Earth and Heaven, Agni born for mortals from the action of the diviner mental on the material being? The ten sisters are his mothers,— the ten fingers, says the scholiast; yes, but the Veda describes them as the ten thoughts or thought-powers, दश धियः (daśa dhiyaḥ). The seven rivers, the mighty ones of heaven, the waters that have knowledge, the waters of Swar are also his mothers. What is the significance of this symbolism, and can we really interpret it as only and solely a figurative account of natural phenomena, of the physical principle or works of Fire? There is at least here, to put the thing in its lowest terms, a strong possibility of a deeper psychological functioning of Agni. These are the main points for solution. Let us see then how the physiognomy of Agni evolves in the Riks; keeping our minds open, let us examine whether the hypothesis of Agni as one of the Gods of the Vedic Mysteries is tenable or untenable. And that means, whether the Veda is a semi-barbaric book of ritual hymns, the book of a primitive Nature-worship or a scripture of the seers and mystics.

Mandala IV, Sukta 7, Mantras 1-3

4.7.1

अ॒यमि॒ह प्र॑थ॒मो धा॑यि धा॒तृभि॒र्होता॒ यजि॑ष्ठो अध्व॒रेष्वीड्यः॑ ।

यमप्न॑वानो॒ भृग॑वो विरुरु॒चुर्वने॑षु चि॒त्रं वि॒भ्वं॑ वि॒शेवि॑शे ॥

ayám ihá prathamáḥ dhāyi dhātṛ́-bhiḥ hótā yájiṣṭhaḥ adhvaréṣu ī́ḍyaḥ ǀ

yám ápnavānaḥ bhṛ́gavaḥ vi-rurucúḥ váneṣu citrám vi-bhvám viśé-viśe ǁ

अयं (ayaṃ) this (before you) होता (hotā) Hotri, प्रथमः (prathamaḥ) first or supreme, यजिष्ठः (यष्ट्टतमः) (yajiṣṭhaḥ / yaṣṭṭatamaḥ) most strong for sacrifice, अध्वरेषु ईड्यः (adhvareṣu īḍyaḥ) adorable in the (pilgrim) sacrifices इह धायि (iha dhāyi) has here been set धातृभिः (dhātṛbhiḥ) by the Ordainers (of things), यं (yaṃ) he whom अप्नवानः भृगवः (apnavānaḥ bhṛgavaḥ) Apnavana and the Bhrigus विरुरुचुः (virurucuḥ) made to shine, वनेषु चित्रं (vaneṣu citraṃ) luminous (or variegated) in the woods (or in the logs), विभ्वं (vibhvaṃ) pervading, विशे-विशे (viśe-viśe) for creature and creature or for each (human) being.

Critical Notes

धातृभिः (dhātṛbhiḥ) : Sayana explains धातृ (dhātṛ) as one who does action for the sacrifice, therefore a priest. But धातारः (dhātāraḥ) here would more naturally signify the gods, creators and ordainers of things, though it is possible to take it as the arrangers of the sacrificial action. The close collocation धायि धातृभिः (dhāyi dhātṛbhiḥ) can hardly be void of all significance. The gods are those who place or arrange the order of creation, set each thing in its place, to its law and its function; they have set Agni here, इह (iha). ‘Here’ may mean in the sacrifice, but more generally it would mean here on earth.

होता (hotā): Sayana takes sometimes as “the summoner of the gods”, sometimes “the performer of the Homa, the burned offering”. In fact it contains both significances. Agni as Hotri calls the gods to the sacrifice by the Mantra and, on their coming, gives to them the offering.

अध्वरेषु (adhvareṣu): the word अध्वर (adhvara) is explained by the Nirukta as meaning literally अहिंस्रः (ahiṃsraḥ), “unhurting”, अ + ध्वर (a + dhvara) from ध्वृ (dhvṛ), and so, the unhurt sacrifice, and so simply sacrifice. Certainly, it is used as an adjective qualifying यज्ञ, अध्वरो यज्ञः (yajña, adhvaro yajñaḥ). It must therefore express some characteristic so inherent in the sacrifice as to be able to convey by itself that significance. But how can the “unhurting” come to mean by itself the sacrifice? I suggest that as in असुर (asura) it is a mistake to take the अ (a) as preventive, असुर (asura) comes from असु (asu) (not अस् (as)) and means strong, forceful, mighty, अध्वर (adhvara) is similarly formed from अध्वन् (adhvan), path, journey. It means the pilgrim-sacrifice, the sacrifice which travels from earth to heaven, led by Agni along the path of the gods. If we must take the word from ध्वृ (dhvṛ), it is better to take the ordinary sense of ध्वृ (dhvṛ), not crooked, straight, and then it would still mean the sacrifice which goes straight undeviating by the straight path to the gods, ऋजु, पन्था अनृक्षरः (ṛju, panthā anṛkṣaraḥ).

ईड्यः (īḍyaḥ) : Sayana: “who is praised or hymned” by the Ritwiks. But it must then mean “worthy to be hymned”. ईळ्, ईड् (īḷ, īḍ) must have meant originally to go, approach; it came to mean to pray to, ask for, desire, याचामहै (yācāmahai). I take it in the sense of “desirable” or “adorable”.

वनेषु (vaneṣu): वन (vana) means in the Veda tree, wood, but also log, timber. चित्रं (citraṃ): Sayana takes चित्र (citra) sometimes चायनीयं = पुज्यं (cāyanīyaṃ = pūjyaṃ), sometimes विचित्र (vicitra), varied or wonderful. Here “variedly beautiful”. It is in this last sense of varied light or beauty that I take it in all passages in the Veda as in इंद्र चित्रभानो (indra citrabhāno). I can see no reason for taking it anywhere as पूजनीय (pūjanīya).

विभ्वं (vibhvaṃ) : Sayana: “lord”. But विभु (vibhu) in Rig-veda means certainly “widely becoming” or “wide in being” or “pervading, abundant, opulent”. I find no passage in which it must mean lord, the later classical sense. विभ्व (vibhva) must bear the same sense as विभु (vibhu).

Translation:

“Lo, here has been set by the Ordainer, the Priest of the offering, the supreme, the most mighty in sacrifice, one to be adored in the pilgrim-sacrifices, whom Apnavana and the Bhrigus made to shine out all-pervading, rich in hues, in the woods, for each human creature.”

This is the first Rik; it contains nothing of an undoubtedly psychological significance. In the external sense it is a statement of the qualities of Agni as priest of the sacrifice. He is pointed to in his body of the sacrificial fire kindled, put there in his place or sent by the priests. It amounts to an obvious statement that this sacred flame is a great power for the sacrifice; that he is the chief of the gods who has to be hymned or adored, that Apnavana and other Bhrigus first discovered the (sacrificial?) use of the fire and caused it to be used by all men. The description here of the forest fire seems inappropriate unless it is meant that they got the idea by seeing Agni burning widely and beautifully as a forest fire or that they discovered it by seeing the fire produced by the clashing of boughs or that they first lit it in the shape of a forest fire. Otherwise it is an ornamental and otiose description.

But if we assume for the moment that behind this image Agni is hinted at as the Hotri of the inner sacrifice, then it is worth seeing what these images mean. The first words tell us that this flame of conscient Will, this great thing within us, अयमिह (ayamiha), has been set here in man by the Gods, the creators of the order of the world, to be the power by which he aspires and calls the other divine Forces into his being and consecrates his knowledge, will, joy, and all the wealth of his inner life as a sacrificial action to the Lords of the Truth. These first words then amount for the initiate to a statement of the fundamental idea of the Vedic mysteries, the meaning of the sacrifice, the idea of a God-will in man, the Immortal in mortals, अमर्त्य मर्त्येषु (amartya martyeṣu). This flame is spoken of as the supreme or first power. The godward will leads all the other godward powers; its presence is the beginning of the movement to the Truth and Immortality and the head too of the march. It is the greatest power in the conduct of the mystic discipline, यजिष्ठ (vyajiṣṭha), the most mighty for sacrifice. Man’s sacrifice is a pilgrimage and the divine Will its leader; therefore it is that which we must adore or pray to or ask for its presence in each sacrificial action.

The second line of the Rik gives us a statement of the first discovery or birth of this Flame among men. For the spirit is there concealed in man, guhā hita, as it is said in Veda and Upanishad, in the inner cave of our being; and his will is a spiritual will, hidden there in the spirit, present indeed in all our outward being and action; for all being and action are of the spirit, but still its real nature, its native action is concealed, altered, not manifest in the material life in its true nature of a spiritual force. This is a fundamental idea of Vedic thinking; and if we keep it well in mind, we shall be able to understand the peculiar imagery of the Veda. Earth is the image of the material being; material being, delight, action, etc. are the growths of Earth; therefore their image is the forests, the trees, plants, all vegetation, वन, वनस्पति, ओषधि (vana, vanaspati, oṣadhi). Agni is hidden in the trees and plants, he is the secret heat and fire in everything that grows on earth, वनेषु (vaneṣu). All that we take pleasure in in the material life, could not be or grow without the presence of the secret flame of the spirit. The awakening of the fire by the friction of the Aranis, the rubbing together of the two pieces of tinder-wood is one way of making Agni to shine out in his own form, रूपे (rūpe), but this is said elsewhere to have been the work of the Angiras Rishis. Here the making of Agni so to shine is attributed to Apnavana and the Bhrigus and there is no indication of the method. It is simply indicated that they made him to shine out so that he burned with a beauty of varied light in the woodlands, a pervading presence, वनेषु चित्रं विभ्वं (vaneṣu citraṃ vibhvaṃ). This must mean in the esoteric symbolism a rich and varied manifestation of the flame of divine will and knowledge in the physical life of man, seizing on its growths, all its being, action, pleasure, making it its food, अन्नं (annaṃ), and devouring and turning it into material for the spiritual existence. But this manifestation of the spirit in the physical life of man was made available by the Bhrigus to each human creature विशे-विशे (viśe-viśe) — we must presume, by the order of the sacrifice. This Agni, this general flame of the divine Will-force, was turned by them into the Hotri of the sacrifice.

The question remains, who are the Bhrigus of whom we may suppose that Apnavana is in this action at least the head or chief? Is it simply meant to preserve a historical tradition that the Bhrigus like the Angiras Rishis were founders of the esoteric Vedic knowledge and discipline? But this supposition, possible in itself, is contradicted by the epithet भृगवाणं (bhṛgavāṇaṃ) in verse 4 which evidently refers back to this first Rik. Sayana interprets there, “acting like Bhrigu” and to act like Bhrigu is to shine. We find this significant fact emerge, admitted even by the ritualistic commentator in spite of his attachment to a rational matter of fact, that some at least of the traditional Rishis and their families are symbolic in their character. The Bhrigus in the Veda (भृज् (bhṛj) to burn) are evidently burning powers of the Sun, the Lord of Knowledge, just as the Angiras Rishis are very evidently the seven lustres of Agni, सप्त धामानि (sapta dhāmāni),— Sayana says the live coals of the fire, but that is a mere etymological ingenuity — the hints are everywhere in the Veda, but it is made quite clear in the tenth Mandala. The whole idea, then, comes out with convincing luminosity. It is the powers of the revelatory knowledge, the powers of the seer-wisdom, represented by the Bhrigus who make this great discovery of the spiritual will-force and make it available to every human creature. Apnavana means he who acts or he who attains and acquires. It is the seer-wisdom that scales and attains in the light of the revelation which leads the Bhrigus to the discovery. This completes the sense of the Rik.

It will be at once said that this is an immense deal to read into this single Rik, and that there is here no actual clue to any such meaning. No actual clue, indeed, only covert hints, which it is easy to pass over and ignore,— that was what the Mystics intended the profanum vulgus, not excluding the uninitiated Pundit, should do. I bring in these meanings from the indications of the rest of the Veda. But in the hymn itself so far as this first Rik goes, it might well be a purely ritualistic verse. But only if it is taken by itself. The moment we pass on, we land full into a mass of clear psychological suggestions. This will begin to be apparent even as early as the second verse.

4.7.2

अग्ने॑ क॒दा त॑ आनु॒षग्भुव॑द्दे॒वस्य॒ चेत॑नं ।

अधा॒ हि त्वा॑ जगृभ्रि॒रे मर्ता॑सो वि॒क्ष्वीड्यं॑ ॥

ágne kadā́ te ānuṣák bhúvat devásya cétanam ǀ

ádha hí tvā jagṛbhriré mártāsaḥ vikṣú ī́ḍyam ǁ

अग्ने (agne) O Agni, कदा (kadā) when ते देवस्य चेतनं (te devasya cetanaṃ) the awakening to knowledge (consciousness) of thee the god आनुषक् भुवत् (ānuṣak bhuvat) may it be continuously (in uninterrupted sequence), अधा हि (adhā hi) for then (or, now indeed) मर्तासः (martāsaḥ) mortals त्वा जगृभ्रिरे (tvā jagṛbhrire) have seized (taken and held) thee विक्षु ईड्यं (vukṣu īḍyaṃ) adorable in (human) beings (or among the peoples).

Critical Notes

देवस्य (devasya): Sayana takes देव (deva) sometimes in the sense of “god”, sometimes as equivalent simply to an epithet “shining”. The Gods are called देवाः (devāḥ) because they are the Shining Ones, the Children of Light; and the word may well have recalled always that idea to the Rishis; but I do not think देव (deva) is ever in the Veda merely a colourless epithet; in all passages the sense “god” or “divine” gives excellent sense and I see no good reason for taking it otherwise.

चेतनं (cetanaṃ): Sayana takes = तेजः (tejaḥ), but चित् (cit) does not mean to shine, it means always, “to be conscious, aware, know”, चेतति (cetati), चेतयति (cetayati) = knows, causes to know, चेतस् (cetas) = heart, mind, knowledge, चैतन्यं, चेतना (caitanyaṃ, cetanā) = consciousness, चित्तं (cittaṃ) = heart, consciousness, mind. To take it here = light, except by figure, is deliberately to dodge without any justification the plain psychological suggestion.

अधा (adhā): अ-धा (a+dhā) = in this or that way, thus, but also then or now. Sayana takes it = therefore with भुवत् (bhuvat) preparing for हि (hi) = because, for this reason: why thy light should be continuous? because... (a very forced structure absolutely unnatural and contrary to order, movement and the plain sequence of sense).

जगृभ्रिरे (jagṛbhrire): a Vedic form, taken by the grammarians as derived from ग्रह् (grah) to seize, by change of ह् (h) to भ् (bh), more probably an old root गृभ् (gṛbh) and a peculiar archaic formation. If the force is “for him they seize”, the perfect (tense) giving the sense of an already completed action, in English one would (say) “will have seized”, i.e. “when thou knowest continuously”. Or take अधा (adhā) = now, “now indeed they have seized but have not yet the आनुषग् चेतनम् (ānuṣag cetanam)”. But this does not make so good a sense and brings in besides an awkward inversion and ellipse.

Translation:

“O Flame, when shall thy awakening to knowledge be a continuous sequence? For then shall men have seized on thee as one to be adored in creatures.”

Here we get the first plain psychological suggestion in the word चेतनम् (cetanam). But what is the sense of this continuous knowing or awakening to knowledge of Agni? First, we may try to get rid of the psychological suggestion, take चेतनं (cetanaṃ) = consciousness, and the consciousness of the fire as simply a poetic figure for its burning. But against this we have the repetition of the phrase in the आनुषक् चेतनं (ānuṣak cetanaṃ) in the आनुषक् चिकित्वांसं (ānuṣak cikitvāṃsaṃ) of Rik 5 which certainly means conscious knowledge and not merely burning; the next verse (3) in which the idea of अग्नेर्देवस्य चेतनं (agnerdevasya cetanaṃ) is taken up and the word itself echoed in the two opening words ऋतावानं विचेतसं (ṛtāvānaṃ vicetasaṃ), possessed of truth, complete in knowledge (wisdom), applied to the god. To shut one’s eyes to this emphatic indication and take चेतनं (cetanaṃ) = merely ज्वलनं (jvalanaṃ) would be a mere dodge. Does it then mean the continuous burning of the flame of the physical sacrifice, but with this idea that the flame is the body of the god and indicates the presence of the conscious deity? But in what then does the knowledge or wisdom of Agni consist? It may be said that he is wise only as the होता (hotā), a seer, कविः (kaviḥ), who knows the way to heaven (Verse 8). But what then of the ऋतावानं विचेतसं (ṛtāvānaṃ vicetasam)? That must surely refer to some greater knowledge, some great Truth which Agni possesses. Does it at all refer to a god of physical Fire alone or to the knowledge and wisdom of an inner Fire, the flame of the God-Force or God-Will in man and the world, देवस्य (devasya), the shining One, the Guest, the Seer, अतिथिः कविः (atithiḥ kaviḥ)?

I take it in this sense. The Rishi cries to this inner Flame, “When wilt thou shine in me continuously, on the altar of my sacrifice; when wilt thou be a constant force of knowledge to give all the uninterrupted sequence, relation, order, completeness of the revelations of wisdom, speaking always and wholly its words, काव्यानि (kāvyani)?” If it refers at all to the inner flame, this must be the sense. We must remember that in the Vedic symbolism it was by the continuous sacrifice all round the symbolic year, the nine or the ten months of the sacrifice of the Angirasas, that the Sun, Master of the Truth, the Wisdom, was recovered from the cave of darkness. The repeated single sacrifice is only a preparation for this continuity of the revealing Flame. It is only then that men not only awake Agni from time to time, by repeated pressure, but have and hold continuously the inner flame of will and knowledge, a present godhead, the one whom we then see and adore in all conscious thinking beings. Or we may take the last two padas in the sense “now indeed they seize” etc. and we will have to take it in the opposite sense, i.e., that for the present men do not have this continuous flame, but only lay hold of him for the actual duration in the effort of sacrifice. This is possible, but does not make so natural a sense; it arises less simply and directly from the actual words. It is in the next two Riks (3, 4) that the present action of Agni before his आनुषक् चेतनं (ānuṣak cetanaṃ) is described, while in Rik 5 the Rishi returns to the idea of the greater continuous flame of knowledge, repeating the आनुषक् चेतनं (ānuṣak cetanaṃ) still more significantly in the आनुषक् चिकित्वांसं (ānuṣak cikitvāṃsaṃ) of that verse. This seems to me the evident natural order of the thought in the Sukta.

4.7.3

ऋ॒तावा॑नं॒ विचे॑तसं॒ पश्यं॑तो॒ द्यामि॑व॒ स्तृभिः॑ ।

विश्वे॑षामध्व॒राणां॑ हस्क॒र्तारं॒ दमे॑दमे ॥

ṛtá-vānam ví-cetasam páśyantaḥ dyā́m-iva stṛ́-bhiḥ ǀ

víśveṣām adhvarā́ṇām haskartā́ram dáme-dame ǁ

पश्यंति (paśyanti): they see him ऋतावानं (ऋतवंतं) (ṛtāvānaṃ / ṛtavantam) having the truth, विचेतसं (vicetasaṃ) completely wise द्यामिव स्तृभिः (dyāmiva stṛbhiḥ) like heaven with stars, हस्कर्तारं (haskartāraṃ) the maker to shine विश्वेषामध्वराणां (viśveṣāmadhvarāṇāṃ) of all (pilgrim) sacrifice दमे दमे (गृहे गृहे) (dame-dame / gṛhe-gṛhe) in house and house.

Critical Notes

ऋतावानं (ṛtāvānam), ऋत + वन् = ऋतावन् (ṛta + van = ṛtāvan)

The Vedic suffix वन् (van) has the same force as the classical वत् (vat), ऋतावा = ऋतवान् (ṛtāvā = ṛtavān), ऋत (ṛta) from root ऋ (ṛ) to go. Hence the sense ‘water’. The sense ‘truth’ may = what is learned, literally, what we go in search of and attain or what we go over and so learn (of ऋषि (ṛṣi)), but it may also come from the idea of straightness, latin rectum, ऋजु (ṛju). How it comes to mean sacrifice is not so clear, perhaps from the idea of rite, observance, rule, विधि (vidhi), or a line followed, cf. Latin regula, rule; or again action, कर्म (karma), and so the sacrificial action; verbs of motion often bear also the sense of action, cf. चरितं, वृत्तं (caritaṃ, vṛttam). ऋतावा (ṛtāvā), says Sayana, often may mean possessed of truth or possessed of sacrifice. But here he takes it = truthful, free from deceit, अमायिनं (amāyinam). Elsewhere he takes सत्य (satya) used as an epithet of Agni, सत्यफल (satyaphala), giving a true fruit of the sacrifice. Oftenest he takes ऋत = यज्ञ (ṛta = yajña). But it is perfectly evident here that ऋतावानं (ṛtāvānam) must mean truth-having, in whatever sense we may take the truth of Agni.

विचेतसं (vicetasaṃ): Sayana: विशिष्टज्ञानं (viśiṣṭajñānaṃ), having a special, a great knowledge; in Veda प्रचेताः (pracetāḥ) and विचेताः (vicetāḥ) are distinguished very much as प्रज्ञान (prājñāna) and विज्ञान (vijñāna) in the Upanishads and later Sanskrit; चेतः (cetaḥ) or चित्ति (citti) stands for ज्ञान (jñāna), the latter word being classical and not Vedic. प्र (pra) gives the idea of knowledge directed towards an object, प्रचेताः (pracetāḥ) = intelligent, wise in a general sense (thus Sayana takes प्रकृष्टज्ञानः (prakṛṣṭajñānaḥ) and makes no distinction between the words). वि (vi) means widely, pervadingly or else in high degree; विचेताः (vicetāḥ) means then having a complete or great or perfect knowledge, knowledge of the whole and the parts.

हस्कर्तारं (haskartāraṃ): from हस् (has) to shine, shining (from which comes the sense, to smile) and कृ (kṛ) to make. Sayana says प्रभासकं (prabhāsakam); illuminer of the sacrifices.

दमे (dame): the Vedic word (Greek domos, Latin domus) means always “house”; it is not used in the later classical sense of “subduing, control”, etc.

Translation:

“They see the master of truth, the complete in wisdom like a heaven with stars, the illuminer of all pilgrim-sacrifices in house and house.”

In this Rik the word विचेतसं (vicetasaṃ) evidently takes up the चेतनं (cetanaṃ) of the last Rik; it means complete in knowledge and is coupled with ऋतावानं (ṛtāvānaṃ), truth-having, possessed of truth; it is the god Agni, not the physical fire who is described by these epithets. Therefore ते चेतनं (te cetanaṃ) in the last Rik must mean Agni “awakening to knowledge” or Agni’s awakening of man to knowledge,— for चेतयति (cetayati) means letting to know or to cause to know, and cannot mean the burning of the physical flame. But what is this truth and knowledge of Agni? It is associated again in the next verse with his function of illumining the sacrifice, अध्वराणां हस्कर्तारं (adhvarāṇāṃ haskartāram). What is the illumination he gives to the sacrifice? And what is meant by saying that he is seen “like a heaven with stars”. Sayana with much scholastic ingenuity, but in characteristic disregard of all good taste and literary judgment, says that the scattering sparks of the fire are like stars, therefore Agni is like heaven,— though there is no reason to suppose that the स्तृभिः (stṛbhiḥ) here are shooting stars; I cannot imagine any poet with eyes in his head and a judgment and sense of proportion in his brain so describing a fire burning on an altar. But if it does not mean that, then we have here a purely ornamental description and very bad, exaggerated and vicious ornament at that. All that the verse will then mean is that men see this wise and truthful Agni in the physical form of the sacrificial fire shedding light by its flames on the whole business of the sacrifice. The two epithets are also then otiose ornament; there is then absolutely no connection between the idea of Agni’s wisdom and the image of the heaven with stars or the illumination of the sacrifice which is the main idea of the verse.

I go on the hypothesis, not, I think, an unfair one, that the Vedic Rishi Vamadeva like other poets wrote with some closer connection than that between their ideas. We must remember that in the last verse he has desired, what he has not got, the continuous knowledge of Agni and said that then indeed men hold and possess him. But how do they see him before that continuously, though after the Bhrigus have found him for the utility of each human being? They see him as the master of truth, the complete in knowledge, but as we must suppose,— they do not yet possess him in all his truth or his complete knowledge; for he is seen only as a heaven with stars and as an illuminer of their sacrifices. A heaven with stars is heaven at night without the light of the sun. Agni in the Veda is described as shining even in the night, giving light in the night, burning through the nights till there comes the dawn,— which too is brought by him aiding Indra and the Angirasas. If the meaning of Agni is the inner flame, this gets a striking, appropriate and profound meaning. In the Veda darkness or night is the symbol of the ignorant mentality, as is the day and its sunlight of the illumined mentality. But before there is the day or the continuous knowledge, the illuminations of Agni are like stars in the nocturnal heavens. Heaven is the mental as Earth is the physical being; all the truth and knowledge of Agni is there, but hidden only by the darkness of night. Men know that this Light is there pervading the skies but see only the stars which Agni has kindled as his fires of illumination in these heavens.