precise distance at which the bodily presence of a
member of the lower castes is held to defile the sacred
person of the Brahman. A Bazar may approach,
but must not touch him; a Chogan may not approach him
within 24 feet, nor a Kanisan within 36, nor a Pulayan
within 64, nor a Nayadi within 72 feet. Equally
definite and elaborate are the manifold restrictions
on marriage, commensality, occupation, food, ceremonial
observances and personal conduct which affect the mutual
relations not only between the different castes but
also between the innumerable sub-castes into which
the higher castes especially have in turns split up.
The laws which govern marriage, descent, and inheritance
amongst the more important castes throw a peculiarly
interesting light on the archaic type of society which
has survived in Southern India. Under the matriarchal
system of
Manumakkathayam, which on the Malabar
coast obtains to the present day, descent is traced
only through the female line. The male member
of the family inherits, but he does so only as the
son of a female member of the family through whom he
may justly claim kinship, or, to put it in another
form, a man’s natural heir is not his son, or
his brother’s son, or the descendant of a common
male ancestor, but his sister’s, or his sister’s
daughter’s son, or the descendant of a common
female ancestress. In the event of failure of
heirs through the female line, adoption is permissible,
but the adoption must be of females, through whose
subsequent offspring the line of natural descent may
be carried on. With this ancient system are bound
up forms of matrimonial union and tenure of property
into the complicated and peculiar nature of which
I need not enter here.
In the wild hill countries weird remnants of the most
primitive races still survive that have not yet been
brought within the pale of Hinduism, and here and
there a sprinkling of Mahomedans remains as a reminder
of the shortlived incursions of Moslem conquerors from
the north. But ninety per cent. of the population
consists of Hindus, and the social and religious supremacy
of Hinduism has never been seriously assailed.
Nowhere has Hindu architecture taken such majestic
shape, the massive pylons of Madura and Tanjore recalling
the imperishable grandeur of the noblest Egyptian
temples on the Nile. Southern India is in fact
a land of stately shrines which dominate the whole
country just as our own great cathedrals dominated
England in the Middle Ages. Yet in Southern India,
Hinduism has not assumed the aggressive character which
it has developed in other regions. Perhaps it
feels too secure of the unchallenged supremacy which
it has enjoyed through the ages as a social and religious
force without ever aspiring to direct political ascendancy.
Perhaps the admixture of Dravidian blood has imparted
to it a more serene tolerance. Perhaps it appreciates
more fully the relief from the turmoils strife, and
bloodshed which was brought to Southern India by the
advent of British rule. Compare the legend of
a pre-British “golden age” propagated
by Tilak and his disciples in the Deccan and in Bengal
with the remarkable picture of the condition of Southern
India at the time when the British power first appeared
on the scene which was drawn by a Madras Brahman,
the late Mr. Srinivasaraghava Iyangar:—