Sakoontala | Page 2

lessons that our ancient authors
are able to teach us. If there is one lesson in these days more than
another which familiarity with the fountains of Western literature
constantly forces upon the mind, it is that our age is turning its back on
time-honoured creeds and dogmas. We are hurrying forward to a chaos
in which all our existing beliefs, nay even the fundamental axioms of
morality, may in the end be submerged; and as the general tenor of
Indian thought among the educated community is to reject everything
that is old, and equally blindly to absorb everything new, it becomes
more and more an urgent question whether any great intellectual or
moral revolution, which has no foundations in the past, can produce

lasting benefits to the people.
'"I desire no future that will break the ties of the past" is what George
Eliot has said, and so it is highly necessary that the Hindús should
know something of their former greatness.
'The songs in [S']akoontalá, one in the Prologue and another in the
beginning of the fifth Act, very easily adapted themselves to Hindú
tunes.'
Towards the end of his letter Mr. Aiyar intimated that he himself took
the part of Má[T.]Havya. He also mentioned that a few modifications
and additions were introduced into some of the scenes.
In a subsequent letter received from Mr. Keshava Aiyar, the Secretary
of the Society, I was informed that my version of the Play was acted
again at Trivandrum in 1894.
These descriptions of the successful representation of the [S']akoontalá
in Travancore justified me in expressing a hope that, as Kálidása has
been called the Shakespeare of India, so the most renowned of his three
dramatic works might, with a few manifestly necessary modifications,
be some day represented, with equal success, before English-speaking
audiences in other parts of the world and especially here in England.
This hope has been realized, and quite recently my translation has been
successfully acted by amateur actors before a London audience.
I venture, therefore, to add the expression of a further hope that with
the daily growth of interest in Oriental literature, and now that the
[S']akoontalá forms one of Sir John Lubbock's literary series, it may be
more extensively read by the Rulers of India in all parts of the Empire.
Those who study it attentively cannot fail to become better acquainted
with the customs and habits of thought, past and present, of the people
committed to their sway.
And it cannot be too often repeated that our duty towards our great
Dependency requires us to do something more than merely rule justly.
We may impart high education, we may make good laws, we may
administer impartial justice, we may make roads, lay down railroads
and telegraphs, stimulate trade, accomplish amazing engineering
feats--like that lately achieved at Periyar--increase the wealth and
develop the resources of our vast Eastern territories; but unless we seek
to understand the inhabitants, unless we think it worth while to study
their ancient literatures, their religious ideas, and time-honoured

institutions, unless we find in them something to admire and respect,
we can never expect any reciprocity of esteem and respect on their
part--we can never look forward to a time when the present
partition-wall, which obstructs the free Interchange of social relations
between European and Asiatic races, will be entirely removed.
MONIER MONIER-WILLIAMS, _December, 1898_.

INTRODUCTION
About a century has elapsed since the great English Orientalist, Sir
William Jones, astonished the learned world by the discovery of a
Sanskrit Dramatic Literature. He has himself given us the history of
this discovery. It appears that, on his arrival in Bengal, he was very
solicitous to procure access to certain books called Nátaks, of which he
had read in one of the 'Lettres Édifiantes et Curieuses' written by the
Jesuit Missionaries of China. But, although he sought information by
consulting both Bráhmans and Europeans, he was wholly unable for
some time to satisfy his curiosity as to the nature of these books. It was
reported to him that they were not histories, as he had hoped, but that
they abounded with fables, and consisted of conversations in prose and
verse held before ancient Rájás, in their public assemblies. Others,
again, asserted that they were discourses on dancing, music, and poetry.
At length, a sensible Bráhman, conversant with European manners,
removed all his doubts, and gave him no less delight than surprise, by
telling him that the English nation had compositions of the same sort,
which were publicly represented at Calcutta in the cold season, and
bore the name of 'plays.' The same Bráhman, when asked which of
these Nátaks was most universally esteemed, answered without
hesitation, '[S']akoontalá.'
It may readily be imagined with what interest, the keen Orientalist
received this communication; with what rapidity