There is another point also on which I am quite willing to admit that my adversaries are right. 'No one who knows anything about the Veda,' they say, 'would think of attempting a translation of it at present. A translation of the Rig-veda is a task for the next century.' No one feels this more strongly than I do; no one has been more unwilling to make even a beginning in this arduous undertaking. Yet a beginning has to be made. We have to advance step by step, nay, inch by inch, if we ever hope to make a breach in that apparently impregnable fortress. If by translation we mean a complete, satisfactory, and final translation of the whole of the Rig-veda, I should feel inclined to go even further than Professor von Roth. Not only shall we have to wait till the next century for such a work, but I doubt whether we shall ever obtain it. In some cases the text is so corrupt that no conjectural criticism will restore, no power of divination interpret it. In other cases, verses and phrases seem to have been jumbled together by later writers in the most thoughtless manner. My principle therefore has always been, Let us translate what we can, and thus reduce the untranslateable

portion to narrower and narrower limits. But in doing this we ought not to be too proud to take our friends, and even our adversaries, into our confidence. A translation on the sic volo sic jubeo principle does far more harm than good. It may be true that a judge, if he is wise, will deliver his judgment, but never propound his reasons. But a scholar is a pleader rather than a judge, and he is in duty bound to propound his reasons.

In order to make the difference between Professor von Roth's translations and my own quite clear, I readily accept the text which he has himself chosen. He took one of the hymns which I had translated with notes (the 165th hymn of the first Mandala), and translated it himself metrically, in order to show us what, according to him, a really perfect translation ought to be a. Let us then compare the results.