Among all the great religions of the world there is none more catholic, more assimilative than the mass of beliefs which go to make up what is popularly known as Hinduism. To what was probably its original form—a nature worship in a large degree introduced by the Aryan missionaries—has been added an enormous amount of demonolatry, fetishism and kindred forms of primitive religion, much of which has been adopted from races which it is convenient to describe as aboriginal or autochthonous. The same was the case in Western lands. As the Romans extended their Empire they brought with them and included in the national pantheon the deities of the conquered peoples. Greece and Syria, Egypt, Gallia and Germania were thus successively laid under contribution. This power of assimilation in the domain of religion had its advantages as well as its dangers. While on the one hand it tended to promote the unity of the empire, it degraded, on the other hand, the national character by the introduction of the impure cults which flourished along the eastern shores of the Mediterranean. But, besides these forms of religion which were directly imported from foreign lands, there remained a stratum of local beliefs which even after twenty centuries of Christianity still flourish, discredited though they may be by priests and placed under the ban of the official creed. Thus in Greece, while the high gods of the divine race of Achilles and Agamemnon are forgotten, the Nereids, the Cyclopes and the Lamia still live in the faith of the peasants of Thessaly. So in modern Tuscany there is actually as much heathenism as catholicism, and they still believe in La Vecchia Religione—“the old religion;”—and while on great occasions they have recourse to the priests, they use magic and witchcraft for all ordinary purposes. It is part of the object of the following pages to show that in India the history of religious belief has been developed on similar lines. Everywhere we find that the great primal gods of Hinduism have suffered grievous degradation. Throughout the length and breadth of the Indian peninsula Brahma, the Creator, has hardly more than a couple of shrines specially dedicated to him. Indra has, as we shall see, become a vague weather deity, who rules the choirs of fairies in his heaven Indra-loka: Varuna, as Barun, has also become a degraded weather godling, and sailors worship their boat as his fetish when they commence a voyage. The worship of Agni survives in the fire sacrifice which has been specialized by the Agnihotri Brâhmans. Of Pûshan and Ushas, Vâyu and the Maruts, hardly even the names survive, except among the small philosophical class of reformers who aim at restoring Vedism, a faith which is as dead as Jupiter or Aphrodite.

Reproduction of the original: The Popular Religion and Folk-Lore of Northern India by W. Crooke

This 2-volume study examines the reality of Hindu worship in northern India from the perspective of its popular manifestation. In rural areas, practical Hinduism differed dramatically from organized Vedic Hinduism and included cult worship of a multitude of local deities which were not formally recognized by the Vedas but exerted a greater influence on the rhythms, meanings and decisions of day-to-day life. Crooke's study may have been the first to look at the religion through eyes other than those of missionaries or the Hindu elite, seeking to fill a gap in European intellectual knowledge of India by documenting living traditions in a serious and accessible manner._x000D_ Volume 1:_x000D_ The Godlings of Nature_x000D_ The Heroic and Village Godlings_x000D_ The Godlings of Disease_x000D_ The Worship of the Sainted Dead_x000D_ Worship of the Malevolent Dead_x000D_ Volume 2:_x000D_ The Evil Eye and the Scaring of Ghosts_x000D_ Tree and Serpent Worship_x000D_ Totemism and Fetishism_x000D_ Animal-Worship_x000D_ The Black Art_x000D_ Some Rural Festivals and Ceremonies

"[A] rare piece of scholarly detective work." -- Margaret Mills, Ohio State University In Quest of Indian Folktales publishes for the first time a collection of northern Indian folktales from the late 19th century. Reputedly the work of William Crooke, a well-known folklorist and British colonial official, the tales were actually collected, selected, and translated by a certain Pandit Ram Gharib Chaube. In 1996, Sadhana Naithani discovered this unpublished collection in the archive of the Folklore Society, London. Since then, she has uncovered the identity of the mysterious Chaube and the details of his collaboration with the famous folklorist. In an extensive four-chapter introduction, Naithani describes Chaube's relationship to Crooke and the essential role he played in Crooke's work, as both a native informant and a trained scholar. By unearthing the fragmented story of Chaube's life, Naithani gives voice to a new identity of an Indian folklore scholar in colonial India. The publication of these tales and the discovery of Chaube's role in their collection reveal the complexity of the colonial intellectual world and problematize our own views of folklore in a postcolonial world.

I have no hesitation in calling what I am about to write a “war record,” for my life was “twice in jeopardy,” as will be seen later on, and I served faithfully as a volunteer, though without compensation, during the entire war of the Rebellion. It is true I was not in the ranks, but I was at the front, and perhaps had a more continuous experience of army life during those four terribly eventful years than any other woman of the North. Born in Charleston, S. C., my sympathies were naturally with the South, but on December 9, 1861, I became a Union woman by marrying a Northern soldier in Philadelphia. The romance which resulted in this desertion to the enemy would perhaps interest the reader, yet I do not propose to tell it; for I am sure the very realistic life which it enabled me to experience for three winters in camp at army head-quarters will interest him more. My first commander was Gen. Nathaniel P. Banks, to whom I reported on December 11, 1861, at Frederick, Md., where my bridegroom was then a captain of an independent company, which he named and equipped as “Zouaves d’Afrique.” The army being in winter quarters, a general disposition prevailed among officers and men to make the season pass merrily. Though the war had by this time assumed serious proportions and the battle of Bull Run had been fought, yet there were many who still believed that the counsels of peace and forbearance would prevail and that the conflict would be of short duration; and this I remember was the daily theme of discussion. Frederick had become a garrisoned town, every train bringing troops and supplies; army wagons and their four-mule teams had possession of the streets, while the sidewalks and shop windows were monopolized by the volunteer officers in their bright buttons and gold lace, who permitted themselves to be disturbed only by the appearance of a pretty face, or by the steady tread of the patrol with their white gloves and polished rifles. My apartments in Frederick consisted of two very modest third-story rooms, sparsely furnished, with the use of a kitchen, at a cheap rent, for we neither of us had any money; yet we indulged in the luxury of the best cook in the army, no other than Nunzio Finelli (one of our zouaves), who was afterwards the steward of the Union League of Philadelphia, and a renowned restaurateur in the same city. Finelli was then a very young man, with a face as handsome as the famous “Neapolitan boy” in the picture, and a voice as sweet and sympathetic as Brignoli’s. A most obliging disposition and a fondness for operatic music made him therefore a great acquisition to our little household,—and many an omelette soufflé was first beaten into snowflakes, while the dulcet and plaintive notes of “Ah che la morte” or “Spirito gentil,” reaching the street, detained the spellbound passers-by; and sometimes when his friend and compatriot, Constantino Calarisi (another zouave), joined him in the kitchen, we were treated to a duet which even Patti would have applauded, for they were both very remarkable singers. Poor Finelli! a few months later a bullet at the battle of Cedar Mountain terribly disfigured him, and when I next saw him the shape of his injured nose reminded me of the inhabitants of the Ghetto.

The first single volume collection of classic Hindi folktales by translators William Crooke and Pandit Ram Gharib Chaube. In 1891, at a time when the study of India was primarily based on ancient texts, coins, and material remains, William Crooke dared to focus on living India—its everyday culture, age-old customs, and fictional narratives. With Pandit Ram Gharib Chaube, he recorded and published, over a period of six years, a remarkable collection of folktales from northern India. The tales reflect the tapestry of social and personal lives of this region, the epicenter of a revolt against British rule in 1857. Although many of the tales were published in British ethnographic journals, a number of the manuscripts, in Chaube's handwriting, were unpublished; others existed only as old microfilm in a New Delhi library. Never before have they appeared as a single volume or been available in any one library or archive.