The immortal Epic of Valmiki is undoubtedly one of the gems of literature,—indeed, some considering it as the Kohinur of the literary region, which has for centuries, and from a time reaching to the dim and far past been shedding unparalleled and undying halo upon the domain presided over by "the vision and the faculty divine." The burthen of the bard's song is the perpetual contest between good and evil, that is everywhere going on in this mysteriously-ordered world of ours, and which seemingly sometimes ending in the victory of the former, and at others in that of the latter, vitally and spiritually results in the utter overthrow and confusion of evil and in the triumph and final conquest of good. Rāma sprung from the bright loins of the effulgent luminary of day, and bringing his life and being from a long and illustrious ancestry of sovereigns, Rāma taking birth among the sons of men for chastising and repressing rampant Iniquity and Injustice, typifies the spirit of good that obtains in this world,—Rāvana, that grim and terrible Ten-headed one, a Rakshasa by virtue of birth, and worthy to be the chief and foremost of Rākshasas by virtue of his many misdeeds and impieties, who challenges and keeps in awe the whole host of the celestials—"to whom the Sun did not shine too hot, and about whom the Wind did not dare to breathe," represents the spirit of unrighteousness and evil. Lakshmana, disregrading the pomp and splendours of princely life, to follow his beloved brother Rāma into the forest, and cheerfully undergoing there a world of trials and privations, and daily and nightly keeping watch and ward over his brother and his spouse in their cottage,—and Bharata, stoutly and persistently declining, despite the exhortations of the elders and the spiritual guides, to govern the kingdom during Rāma's absence in the forest, and holding the royal umbrella over his brother's sandals, are personations of the ne plus ultra of fraternal love, and consummate and perfect ideals of their kind. The righteous Bibhishana, who for Rāma's cause forsook his royal brother, and set small store by the splendours of royalty, who suffered no earthly considerations to interfere with his entire and absolute devotion to his friend, embodies in his person the sterling virtues going under the precious name of friendship. The ever-devoted Hanumana glorying in the appellation of Rāma's servant,—ever-prompt at the beck and call of his master to lay down his life—is the grandest and loftiest conception of the faithful servant that is to be found in all literature. Shall we say aught of Rāma and Sitā, or keep silence over themes too sacred for babblement and frofane mouthing? The kingdom is astir and alive with the jubilations of the populace at the prospect of Rāma's coronation; pennons by thousands are streaming like meteors in the air at the tops of stately edifices; and drums and panavas and other musical instruments are sounding forth the auspicious anouncement. The royal household swims in a sea of bliss surging and heaving on all sides. Delight and Joy move about and laugh and talk under the names of Daçarātha and Kaucalya. Anon a thunder-clap bursts in the midst of the Merry-making, and converts delight into dole, the sounds of laughter and hilarity into loud wails and lamentations issuing from hearts knowing no consolation. All is lost! Rāma is to be banished into the woods for fourteen years. He cheerfully makes up his mind and repairs to the forest in consonance with his father's promise. Sitā steps forth—a divinity clad in flesh—Sitā would follow the fortunes of her lord. She considers it as the height of undutifulness to remain behind, continuing to enjoy the pleasures of the palace, while her beloved Rāma is leading a life of toils and privations in the remote woods. The daughter as well as the daughter-in-law of kings, brought up in the lap of luxury and amidst the soft ministrations of those pleasures that pertain to a royal household, Sitā, the idol of every one's love and regard, boldly and with alacrity faces all the toils and terrors of a forest-life, in preference to remaining in Daçarātha's residence, bereft of the company of her sweet lord.