consensus of Oriental scholarship the system of caste did not exist till about the beginning of the Brahmanic period—­say eight hundred years before Christ.  Krishna was born in the Punjab, near Merut, and it was near there that his chief exploits were performed.  The legends represent him as a genial but a reckless forester, brave on the battle-field, but leading a life of low indulgence.  The secret of his power lay in his sympathy.  His worship, even as a heroic demi-god, brought a new and welcome element into Hinduism as contrasted with the remorselessness of Siva or the cold indifference of Brahma.  It was the dawn of a doctrine of faith, and in this character it was probably of later date than the rise of Buddhism.  Indeed, the Brahmans learned this lesson of the value of Divine sympathy from the Buddha.  The supernatural element ascribed to Krishna, as well as to Rama, was a growth, and had its origin in the jealousy of the Brahmans toward the warrior caste.  His exaltation as the Supreme was an after-thought of the inventive Brahmans.  As stated in a former lecture, these heroes had acquired great renown; and their exploits were the glory and delight of the dazzled populace.  In raising them to the rank of deities, and as such appropriating them as kindred to the divine Brahmans, the shrewd priesthood saved the prestige of their caste and aggrandized their system by a fully developed doctrine of incarnations.  Thus, by a growth of centuries, the Krishna cult finally crowned the Hindu system.

The Mahabharata, in which the Bhagavad Gita was incorporated by some author whose name is unknown, is an immense literary mosaic of two hundred and twenty thousand lines.  It is heterogeneous, grotesque, inconsistent, and often contradictory—­qualities which are scarcely considered blemishes in Hindu literature.

The Bhagavad Gita was incorporated as a part of this great epic probably as late as the second or third century of our era, and by that time Krishna had come to be regarded as divine, though his full and extravagant deification as the “Adorable One” probably did not appear till the author of “Narada Pancharata” of the eighth century had added whatever he thought the original author should have said five centuries before.  As it now stands the poem very cleverly weaves into one fabric many lofty aphorisms borrowed from the Upanishads and the later philosophic schools, upon the groundwork of a popular story of which Arjuna is the hero.  Arjuna and his four brothers are about to engage in a great battle with their cousins for the possession of an hereditary throne.  The divine Krishna, once himself a hero, becomes Arjuna’s charioteer, that in that capacity he may act as his counsellor.  As the battle array is formed, Arjuna is seized with misgivings at the thought of slaughtering his kindred for the glory of a sceptre.  “I cannot—­will not fight,” he says; “I seek not victory, I seek no kingdom; what shall we do with regal pomp and power? what with enjoyments, or with life itself, when we have slaughtered all our kindred here?”