THE BREAKER OF IDOLS.
Mahmoud, the great Mahomedan conqueror of India, reached, in
his career of victory, Somnát, of which the gates have since become
familiar to us—a temple of peculiar sanctity in the southern extremity
of Guzerát. Having overcome all resistance, he entered the temple.
‘Facing the entrance was Somnát—an idol five yards high, of which
two were buried in the ground. Mahmoud instantly ordered the image
to be destroyed; when the Bramins of the temple threw themselves
before him, and offered an enormous ransom if he would spare their
deity. . . . . Mahmoud, after a moment's pause, declared that
he would rather be remembered as the breaker than the seller of idols,
and struck the image with his mace. His example was instantaneously
followed, and the image, which was hollow, burst with the blows, and
poured forth a quantity of diamonds and other jewels which amply
repaid Mahmoud for the sacrifice of the ransom.’—Elphinstone, History
of India, vol. i. p, 554. There is a later poem on the same subject by
Lowell, Under the Willows, p. 135.
Lo! a hundred proud pagodas have the Moslem torches burned,
Lo! a thousand monstrous idols Mahmoud's zeal has overturned.
He from northern Ghuznee issuing, through the world this word doth bear,—
‘God is one; ye shall no other with the peerless One compare:’
Till in India's furthest corner he has reached the costliest shrine
Of the Brahmins, idol-tending—which they held the most divine.
Profits not the wild resistance; stands the victor at the gate,
With this hugest idol's ruin all his work to consummate.
Forth in long procession streaming came the suppliant priests to meet—
Came with ransom and with homage the resistless one to greet.
Ransom vast of gold they offer, pearls of price and jewels rare,
Purchase of their idol's safety, this their dearest will he spare.
And there wanted not who counselled, that he should his hand withhold,
Should that single image suffer, and accept the proffered gold.
But he rather,—‘God has raised me, not to make a shameful gain,
Trafficking in hideous idols, with a service false and vain;
But to count my work unfinished, till I sweep them from the world:
Stand, and see the thing ye sued for, by this hand to ruin hurled.’
High he reared his battle-axe, and heavily came down the blow:
Reeled the abominable image, broken, bursten, to and fro;
From its shattered side revealing pearls and diamonds, showers of gold;
More than all that proffered ransom, more than all a hundred fold.
—Thou too, Heaven's commissioned warrior to cast down each idol throne
In thy heart's profanëd temple, make this faithful deed thine own.
Still they plead and still they promise, wilt thou suffer them to stand,
They have pleasures, gifts and treasures, to enrich thee at command.
Heed not thou, but boldly strike them; let descend the faithful blow;
From their wreck and from their ruin first will thy true riches flow.
Thou shalt lose thy life, and find it; thou shalt boldly cast it forth;
And then back again receiving, know it in its endless worth.
