gest epic ever written, being eight times as
long as the Odyssey and the Iliad put together), the Bhagavad Gita
contains only seven hundred _slohams_, and is not as long as the
Gospel of St. Mark.

The date of the origin of the Song is very much disputed. There are
Hindu authorities who would carry it back to the fifth century B.C.,
the time which is assigned for the first recension of the Mahabharata,
of which the Bhagavad Gita is a very small part. But the highest
authorities find conclusive proof that it originated about the second
or third century of our era, and was then inserted as a part of an
episode in the narrative of the great epic.

The Mahabharata is a great poetic narrative of a conflict between the
two branches of the Bharata family--the Pandavas and the Kauravas--for
the petty kingdom of Hastinapura, near the modern city of Delhi.

The two forces are already, in counter array, eager for the fray on
the battle-field of Kuruchetra. The call to battle has already been
blown upon the miraculous conchs of the leaders of both sides, who are
seated in their chariots drawn by white horses. Over each one waves
his personal ensign. Arjuna, the noblest of the five brave Pandava
leaders, is a man of heroic traits of character; and yet within him
breathes the tenderest sentiment of humanity. He pauses a moment ere
he leads his mighty hosts against the enemy; and, as he looks upon his
own kith and kin in the opposing ranks, he is overcome by the stern
voice of conscience blending with humanitarian impulses. Is it right,
can it _possibly_ be right, for him to go forth to destroy his own
friends and relatives; shall he shed the blood of those who are
nearest and dearest to him upon the earth? This is the agonizing
doubt which seizes upon him at this time. And in his distress he turns
to his friend and relative, Krishna, who has declined to participate
in the war, but who had volunteered to act as Arjuna's charioteer. And
he says unto him: "Seeing these kinsmen, O Krishna, standing (here)
desirous to engage in battle, my limbs droop down; my mouth is quite
dried up; a tremor comes on my body; and my hairs stand on end; the
Gandiva (bow) slips from my hand; my skin burns intensely; I am
unable, too, to stand up; my mind whirls round, as it were. Even those
for whose sake we desire sovereignty, enjoyments, and pleasures, are
standing here for battle, abandoning life and wealth--preceptors,
fathers, sons as well, grandfa