120. Thus as the minds of the ignorant are never cleansed from the taint of their favourite objects, so they are never free from their bondage in this world; like the liberated sage by his want of earthly attachment. Because it is the parvitude of our desires that contributes to our liberation, while the amplitudes of our wishes lead us to our continued bondage in this world. (This passage presents us with the pains of memory, instead of the pleasures which some poets have portrayed on its face).
121. Sikhidhwaja said:—Tell me my lord, why men feel sorry or joyous at their pain or pleasure, to which they are bound by their birth in this world; and for what is far off from them (either as past or gone and what is in their expectation in future, since both the past and future are absent from us)?
122. I find your words my lord to be as clear as they are pretty and full of meaning, and the more I hear them so much the more do I thirst to listen to them; as the peacock is insatiate with the roarings of clouds.
123. Chúdálá answered:—It is pleasant to inquire into the cause of our birth, and how the soul being accompanied with the body, derives its knowledge through the senses, and feels thereby a delight which is apparent in babes. (We see by observation how babies are pleased with the exercise of their limbs and senses).
124. But the living soul (or the vital principle), which is contained in the heart and runs through the Kundaliní artery as the breath of life; is subject to pain and sorrow by its very birth. (Hence we see, new born child coming to cry out no sooner it comes to life after its birth).
125. The living soul or vital spirit (which is as free as air), comes to be confined in the arterial chains of the prison houses of the different bodies; by its entering into the lungs breathing with the breath of life. (The spirit of God was breathed into the nostrils of man).
126. The breath of life circulating through the body, and touching its different parts or the organs of sense, raise their sensations in the soul; and as the moisture of the ground grows the trees and shrubs on earth, so doth our vitality produce the sensations of the pleasure and pain in the soul.
127. The living soul being confined in the arteries of different bodies, gives a degree of happiness and steadiness to some, which the miserable can never enjoy. (The poor are bereft to the comforts of high life).
128. Know that the living soul, is said to be liberated in the same proportion as it manifests its tranquilized state; and know also that it is bounden bondage in the same degree, as it appears to be sorry in the face and choked in its breathing. (The dejected and depressed spirit does not breathe out freely).
129. The alternate feeling of pain and pleasure, is likewise the bondage of the soul and no other, but this and it is the want of these alternations, that constitutes its liberation; and these are the two states of the living soul.
130. As long as the deceptive senses, do not bring the false sensations of pain and pleasure unto the soul; so long does it rest in its state of sweet composure, and the calm tranquillity of the positive rest.
131. The invisible soul coming in sight of some transient pleasure or want of pain, becomes as joyous as the cheerful sea passing the reflexion of the bright moon-beams in its bosom.
132. The soul equally exults at the sight of pleasure, as it grieves at the knowledge of its unsteadiness; as a foolish cat rejoices to see of fish, which it has not the power to catch or hold fast in its clutches.
133. When the soul, has the pure knowledge of the intelligibles and the cognition of itself; it comes to know, that there is no such thing as positive pain or pleasure; and has thereby its calm and quiet composure for ever, and under every circumstance.
134. When it comes to know that it has no concern with any pain or pleasure, and that its living is to no purpose at all; it is then said to be awakened in itself, and to rest in its quietude of nirvána-extinction (unconsciousness of one's self or its consciousness of itself as a cypher, is termed the state of its nirvána-annihilation).
135. When the living soul comes to know by its internal intuition, that pain and pleasure are unreal in their nature; it is no longer concerned about them, but rests quietly within itself.
136. When the soul comes to the belief, that the visible world is no other than the vacuity of Intellect or Brahma himself; it gets its rest in its quietness, and becomes as cool as an oilless and extinguished lamp. (Here is the vacuism of Vasishtha again).
137. The belief that all nature is vacuity, and all existence is the one unity together with the thought of an infinite inanity; is what leads the soul to its unconsciousness of pain and pleasure. (All is but void and vacancy, and mere air-drawn phantasy).
138. The thoughts of pleasure and pain therefore are as false, as the false appearance of the world; and this error is inherited by the living soul from Brahmá the first of living beings in the world. (The error of taking the unreal for real began with Brahmá himself).
139. Whatever was thought and ordained by the first creative power in the beginning, the same has taken root in the living soul; and is going on even to the present time as its nature.
140. Sikhidhwaja asked:—It is only when one feels some pleasure in his mind, that it runs in the blood through his veins and arteries; but the holy Nárada could not be affected by the sight, nor drop his semen from him.
141. Chúdálá replied:—The animal soul being exited (by the existent sight of women), excites the living breath of prána to motion; and the whole body obeys the dictate of the mind, as the body of soldier obeys the command of their commander.
142. The vital airs being put to motion, they move the internal sap and serum from their seats; as the blowing winds bear away the fragrance of flowers and the dust of leaves, and drop down the fruits and flowers and leaves of trees.
143. The semen being put to motion falls downwards, as the clouds being driven together burst into the rain water.
144. The semen then passes out of the body by the canals of the veins and arteries, as the running waters pass through the channels and canals of a river.
145. Sikhidhwaja said:—O thou divine boy! that knowest both the past and present states of things, as it appears from thy instructive discourse; please to instruct me at present, what you mean by the nature of things by the Brahmic power of Brahma.
146. Chúdálá replied:—Nature is that intrinsic character, which is implanted in the constitution of things at the beginning of their creation; and the same which continues to this day the essential part of the ghata, pata, and all other things.
147. It comes on by a kákátálya or accidental course of its own, as it is compared by the learned with the rise and fall of waves and bubbles in the water; and the marks of the lacuna in wood and iron. (The fortuitous combination of the atomic principles, is the cause of the formation of concrete bodies; according to the Atomic philosophy of Leucippus, Democritus and the Epicureans of old).
148. It is under the power of this nature, that all things move about in the world in the various forms; and with all their properties of change and persistence. It is only the indifferent and inappetent soul that is liberated from the subjection of nature, while the apparent is fast bound to its chains and wander with their prurient nature in repeated transmigrations.
The Production of the Pot (or the Embryonic cell).
Argument:—The birth of the Bráhman boy from the seed of Nárada, preserved in a pot whereby he was called the pot-born, and his education.
CHUDALA continues:—It is the nature of everything in the extensive world to be born in its own kind (i.e. the similar only springs from the similar and nothing of a dissimilar kind). All persons and things continue to go on in it by their desires and tendencies, whether it be in the directions of virtue or vice or good or evil. (Nature is the invariable quiddity of a thing; but its desire or inclination is a variable property or quality of it).
2. When this desire or want of the mind of a man is either diminished or brought under his control, he is no longer subject to the acts of goodness or vice but becomes exempt both from merit and demerit; and their consequences of reiterated births and deaths by the utter indifference. (Neutrality in action is the way to one's inanity in both worlds. This is not a right rule since the commission of a good action is as commendable, as an omission in the discharge of duty is held culpable in law and morality).
3. Sikhidhwaja rejoined:—O eloquent speaker! your words are as full of sense as they are of great import to me, they bespeak your great penetration into the depths of wisdom.
4. My audience of the sweet exultance of your speech has given me a satisfaction, equal to that of my draught of a large dose of the ambrosial water.
5. Now be pleased to give me a brief narration of the story of your birth and pedigree, and I will hear with all my attention your words of sound sense and wisdom.
6. Please sir to relate unto me, what the son of lotus-Brahmá—the venerable sage Nárada, did with the seminal strength, which unconsciously fell from him on the ground.
7. Chúdálá related:—The muni then curbed back the infuriate elephant of his beastly mind by the strong bridle of prudence; and bound it fast in the iron chain of the great intelligence.
8. His virile strength which was as hot as fire, resembled the molten moon melted down by the flame of the final conflagration; and as liquified as the fluid quick-silver or other metallic solution.
9. The sage who had a water-pot of crystal stone fast by his side, laid hold of the same and put the fluid semen in it, in the manner of his depositing the liquid moon-beams in the disc of the moon.
10. There was on one side of the mount of Meru, a projected rock with a deep cavern in it; the passage of which was not obstructed by the heaps of stones which lay before it.
11. The muni placed the pot inside that cave as the embryo is situated in the belly, and he filled the pot with milk which he produced by his will; as the lord of creation has filled the milky ocean with its watery milk. (The sages are said to have miraculous powers by force of their yoga).
12. The muni neglected his sacred offering and brooded over the pot, as a bird hatches over its egg; and it was in a course of a month that the foetus grew up in the pot of milk, as the reflexion of the crescent moon increases in the bosom of the milky ocean.
13. At the end of the month the pot bore a full formed foetus, as the orb of the moon becomes full in the course of a month; and as the season of spring produces the lotus bud with its blushing petals.
14. The foetus came out in the fullness of its time, and with the full possession of all the members of its body; as the full moon rises from the milky ocean without diminution of any of its digits.
15. The body became fully developed in time, and the limbs were as beautiful as the horns of the moon shine brightly in the lighted fortnight.
16. After performance of the initiatory ceremonies (of tonsure and investiture of the sacred thread); and the sage instructed him in whatever he knew, as one pours out the contents of one vessel into another.
17. In course of a short time the boy became acquainted with all the oral instructions (Vangmaya) of his father, and became an exact ectype of the venerable sage. (The best son likens his father).
18. The old sage became as illustrious with his brilliant boy, as the orb of the moon shines brightly with its train of resplendent stars.
19. Once on a time the sage Nárada went to the empyrean of his father Brahmá accompanied by his young progeny, and there made his obeisance to the prime progenitor of mankind.
20. The boy also bowed down before his grandsire, who knowing him to be versed in the vedas and sciences; took him up and set him on his lap.
21. The lord Brahmá pronounced his blessings on the boy, and knowing him to be born of the pot and acquainted with the vedas; gave him the name of Kumbha or the pot.
22. Know me O hermit! to be the son of the sage Nárada, and grand son of the great lotus-born Brahmá himself; and know by the appellation of Kumbha from my birth into the pot.
23. I have the four vedas for my companions and playmates, and I always delighted with their company; in the heavenly abode of my lotus-born grandsire—the Divine Brahmá.
24. Know the Goddess Sarasvatí to be my mother, and the Gáyatrí hymn as my maternal aunt; my habitation is in the heaven of Brahmá where I dwell as the grand-child of the lord of creatures.
25. I wonder at my pleasure, throughout the wide extended world; I rove about with a soul full of felicity, and not on any errand or business whatever.
26. I walk over the earth without touching it with my feet, and its flying dust do not approach my person; nor is my body ever fatigued in all its rambles. (The spiritual body is intangible and unwearied).
27. It happened this day, that I came to behold thy hermitage in the course of my etherial journey; and so directed my course this way, to see thee in this place. (This is the substance of my life, as I have now related unto thee).
28. Thus O forester! I have given you the whole account of my life as you have heard just now; because it is a pleasure to good people, to hold conversation with the good and wise.
29. Válmíki said:—As they were talking in this manner the day past away to its evening service, and the sun set down below the horizon; the court broke and every one repaired to his evening ablution, and met again with the rising sun on the next morning.
Continuation of the same and enlightenment of Sikhidhwaja.
Argument:—Sikhidhwaja's praise of Kumbha and expression of his sorrow, he turns to be a disciple of the same and professes his faith in the vedánta doctrines.
SIKHIDWAJA said:—Sir, it appears to me that the hoarded merits of all my former lives, have brought you today to my presence here; as an unforeseen hurricane drives the waters of the sea on the dry mountain tops. (i.e. thy speech is as cooling draught to my perished soul).
2. I reckon myself as highly blest among the blessed today to be thus favoured by your presence, and cooled by your speech distilling as ambrosial dews from your lips.
3. Never did a more sensible speech, touch and cool my soul to such a degree as yours ere this; wherefore I deem your holy presence as more precious to me, than the gaining of a kingdom.
4. The unrestrained delight which is felt in general (from the words of the wise), which are free from self-interest and selfish motives; is far superior to the self-restricted pleasure of sovereignty, which is delightful once in imagination only (and not in its actual possession).
5. Vasishtha said:—As the prince was uttering these encomiums, the Bráhman boy Kumbha passed over them in silence; and interrupted him by saying:—
6. Chúdálá said:—Please put a stop, sir, to these words of yours, and give me an account of yourself as I have given mine to you; and tell me who you are, and what you do in this lonely mountain.
7. How long is it that you have passed in this forester's life of yours, and what is your main object in view. Tell me the bare truth, because it is beyond the probity of an ascetic, to utter anything but the plain truth. (The ascetics are names of satyavrata or vowed to truth).
8. Sikhidhwaja replied:—Lord as you are the offspring of a God, everything must be well known to you; and as the Gods are full well acquainted with the secrets and circumstances of all people, I have very little to relate to you about me.
9. It is from my fear of the world (and its temptations), that I have abandoned it and taken my abode amidst this forest; and this though you well know, will I now briefly state unto you.
10. I am Sikhidhwaja the ruler of a country, which I have long relinquished for a seat in the forest; and know, O knower of all truths, that it is my fear of the trap-doors of the world and future transmigration in it, that has driven me to this retired wilderness.
11. It is no more than the reiteration of pain and pleasure, and of life and death in this accursed world; and it is to evade all these, that I have betaken myself to my austerities in these solitary woods.
12. I wander about on all sides, and perform my rigorous austerities without any respite; and I give no rest to myself, but keep my vigils like a miser over his little stock.
13. I am without any effort or attempt, and so without any fruit and fruition also; I am lonely, and so helpless likewise; I am poor and therefore friendless also, and know me Divine personage! to be pining in this forest like a withered tree perforated by worms.
14. I observe strictly all my sacred rites without any fail or failure, and yet I fall from one sorrow into a sea of sorrows; and have grown too pensive, that even the ambrosial draught is unpleasant to me.
15. Chúdálá said:—It was once on a time that I had my great progenitor (Brahmá) to tell me which of the two, the observance of duties or their non-observance for the sake of knowledge (i.e. whether practice or theoretical knowledge); is the more useful to and preferable by mankind.
16. Brahmá replied:—Knowledge is no doubt the supreme Good, as it leads to ones acquaintance with the unity of the Deity and the oneness of himself; but action is inculcated to man at the duty of his life, both for the pleasure and passing of his life time.
17. Let them that have not acquired their intellectual light and the sight of the soul, be employed in their duties by their offsprings and fellow creatures; for who that is devoid of a silken robe, will go about naked and not wrap himself with a blanket or coarse cloth.
18. The ignorant that are actuated by their desires and live upon their hopes, meet with their objects as the reward of their action; but the knowing and speculative theorist, having neither any desire in his mind nor action of his body, meets with no reward of either.
19. An action without its object goes to naught and for nothing, as the fruit bearing plants become fruitless and die away without being properly watered in their time. (There it is doubtful whether the comparison of watering refers to the desire or action. The gloss refers it to the action without which no desire is successful).
20. As the effect of a certain season on plants &c., is displaced by that of the succeeding one; so the fruit of an action, is frustrated by its want of its desire (of the object).
21. As it is the nature of kusa-grass never to fructify, though they bear the flowers in time; so my son, no action can produce any fruit without the desire of the main object (as its final cause). (Here Chúdálá addresses her husband as her son).
22. As the boy possest the idea of a ghost in his mind, sees the apparition of a devil before him; and as a sick man having hypochondria of his malady, is soon attacked by it (so everyone meets with what he has in his mind).
23. As the kusa-grass presents the fair flowers to view, without ever bearing their fruits; so does the speculative theorist meditate on the beauty of his theory, without producing its results by its practice.
24. Sikhidhwaja said:—But it is said that all human desire is vain, and its accompanying egoism is a fallacy; and that they are the creatures of our ignorance, like our error of a sea in the burning sands of a desert.
25. So it is to the gnostic theist, whose ignorance is altogether removed by his knowledge of all things as the Divine spirit; such a man of course has no desire rising in his mind, as there is no appearance of the sea in the sands before the eyes of the wise.
26. It is by forsaking his desires, that a person is freed from his bonds of his disease and death; and his internal soul arriving to the perfection of the Deity, is exempted from future birth.
27. But know the human mind to be fraught with desires, from which the learned few are only exempt; it is by their transcendental knowledge of the knowable one, that the Divinely wise alone are exempted from their regeneration in this mortal world.
28. Chúdálá replied—It is true, O princely sage! that knowledge is said to be the chief good (summum bonum), by the Gods Brahmá and others and also by all sapient sages; and notwithstanding thy knowing of this, why is it that thou remainest in this state of thy gross ignorance?
29. What mean these pots and staffs, these wooden stools and those seats of kusa-grass; and why is it, O royal prince! that you delight in these false playings of fools?
30. Why is it that you do not employ your mind to inquire into the questions as to what thou art, and how has this world came to existence, and how and when will cease to exist (in your consciousness of reality). Instead of making inquiries in these solemn truths, you are passing your time like the ignorant in your fooleries only?
31. Why don't you discuss about the natures of bondage and liberation in the company of the learned, and pay your homage at their venerable feet?
32. Do you want, O prince to pass your life in the discharge of your painful austerities, as some insects finish their days in perforating the stones in which they live?
33. You can easily obtain the delight you seek, if you will but betake yourself to the service of holy man; and keep company with the tolerant and wise souls, arguing with them on spiritual subjects.
34. Or you may continue to remain in your grotto, in this forest living on the simple food of holy men; and by forsaking the evil propensities of your mind, abide here as an insect in a hole under the ground.
35. Vasishtha related:—Being thus awakened to sense by his wife—the Divine boy—Sikhidhwaja, melted into tears; and with his face bathed in water, spoke to the lad as follows:—
36. Sikhidhwaja said:—O Divine child! it is after a long time, that I am awakened by thee to my senses; and I perceive now that it was my weak-headedness, which drove me from the society of respectable to this lonely forest.
37. Ah! I find now that my mind is purged to-day of its endless sins, which has brought thee to my presence here, and remonstrate with me on my past misconduct.
38. O beauteous boy! I deem thee henceforward as my monitor and father and my best friend forever, and acknowledge myself as thy pupil; wherefore I bow down at thy feet and pray thee to take piety on me.
39. Please admonish me now on the subject of Divine knowledge, as you are best acquainted with it; and whereby I may be freed from all my sorrows, and be settled with perfect peace and bliss of my mind.
40. You said at first, that knowledge is the supreme bliss or summum bonum of mankind; now tell me, which is that knowledge which saves us from misery; whether it is the knowledge of particulars which lead us to the acquaintance of specials, or that of the general which brings us to the transcendental. (The former is the inductive knowledge of ascending from particulars to the universal, and the latter is deductive knowledge of deducing everything from the primitive one).
41. Chúdálá replied:—I will tell thee prince as far as I know about it, and what may be best acceptable to thee; and not throw away my words in vain, like crowing ravens about a headless trunk.
42. Because the words that are uttered to the impertinent questions of a person and not heeded by him, are thrown in vain; and become as useless to him, as her eye sight in the dark.
43. Sikhidhwaja said:—Sir, your words are as acceptable to me as the ordinances of veda (gospel truth); and though you utter them without previous meditation (extempore), yet I have full faith in them.
44. Chúdálá replied:—As a boy obeys the words of his father, knowing it to be pronounced for his certain good; so must you receive my words (knowing them to tend to your best welfare).
45. Think my advices to be all good for you, after you hear them with proper attention; and hear unto my words, as you hear music without inquiring into their reason or rhyme.
46. Hear me now relate to you an interesting story of a certain person, whose conduct and character resembled in every way to thine; and who was brought back to his sense after his long aberration. This is a tale to dispel the worldly cares and fears of the intelligent.
The Tale of the crystal Gem.
Argument:—The slipping of a precious stone in ignorance, and picking of a glossy glass in view of it.
CHUDALA related:—There lived once a rich man, combined with opposite qualities (of charity and penury) in his character; as the sea contains the water and the submarine fire in its depth.
2. He was as skilled in arts, as he was practiced in arms; and was trained up in all dealings, as he was expert in business. But his great ambition in all his pursuits, kept him from the knowledge of the most high. (His excess of worldliness, was a preventive to spiritual knowledge).
3. He employed all his endeavours to obtain the imaginary gem of the philosopher's stone chintámani (by means of his pujas and prayers and other sacred rites); as the submarine fire wants to devour the waters, and dries up the bed of the sea.
4. His great avidity and persevering patience, succeeded after a lapse of a long time to obtain the precious gem at last; because there is nothing which may not be effected by the ardent zeal of man. (Omnia vincit labor).
5. He succeeded in his attempts by his unwearied labour, joined with his firm resolution and well directed plan; as the meanest man is favoured with a fortune, by his employment of these means. (Fortune crowns all strenuous efforts with success).
6. He saw the stone as lying before him, and ready to be grasped in his hand; as a hermit sitting on the peak of a mountain, thinks the rising moon as easy to be grasped by his hand. (Too ardent desire presents the shadow of the object to one's view).
7. He saw the brilliant gem before him, but became mistrustful of his sight and the reality of the object before it; as a poor man hearing of his sudden elevation to royalty, mistrusts the report and doubts its being meant for him.
8. He was then immerged in himself to think with amazement for a long time, he overlooked and neglected to lay hold on his great gain, and kept dubitating in his mind in the following manner.
9. Whether this stone is gem or not, and if so, whether it be the philosopher's stone or any other; shall I touch it or not, for I fear lest it fly away from my touch or be soiled by it.
10. No one hath until this time obtained the long sought philosopher's stone, and if ever it was obtained by any one, it was, says the sastra, in his next life.
11. It is no doubt that my miserliness only, that makes me view aslant this brilliant gem before me with my eyes; as a purblind man sees a flashing fire-brand and deep-laid moon in the sky.
12. How could the tide of my fortune run so high at once, that I should succeed so soon to obtain the precious stone, that is the pink and acme of perfection and productive of all treasure.
13. There must be few and very few indeed of those fortunate men, who can expect their good fortune to court and wait on them; at a little pains in a short time.
14. I am but a poor and honest man, and one possest of very little qualification nor of any worth and account among mankind; and it is impossible that so miserable a wretch, could ever be blessed with this masterpiece of perfection.
15. The incredulous man hung for a long time in a state of suspense, between his certainty and uncertainty; and was infatuated by his mental blindness, that he did not even stretch out his hand to lay hold on the jewel lying open before him.
16. Hence whatever is obtainable by anyone at any time, is often missed and lost sight of by either his ignorance or negligence of it; as the precious gem in the parable, which was proffered and lay palpable in full view.
17. As the undetermined man hung in the balance of his suspicion, the precious gem flew away and vanished from his sight; as the merited man avoids his slighter, and as the shaft flies from its string or the stone from its sling. (Fly from the fool as the arrow flies from the bow-string).
18. When prosperity appears to one, she confers on him her blessings of wisdom and prudence &c.; but as she forsakes her foolish votary, she deprives him of all his discretion. (Such is the case with this once wise and afterwards foolish devotee of prosperity).
19. The man tried again to invoke and recall the precious gem to his presence, because the persevering spirit is never tired to try again and again for his expected success.
20. He came to behold before him a brittle piece of glass, shining with its false glare as the former gem; and this was placed in his presence by the invisible hands of the siddha that had come to tempt him and deride his folly.
21. The fool thought this brittle thing to be the real gem now lying before him, as the ignorant sot believes the sparkling sands to be the dusts of the purest gold.
22. Such is the case with the deluded mind, that it mistakes the eight for six and a foe for a friend; it sees the serpent in the rope and views the desert land as the watery expanse, it drinks the poison for the nectar and spies another moon in the sky in the reflexion of the true one.
23. He took up that sham trumpery for a real gem, and thought it as the philosopher's stone that would confer on him whatever he desired; with this belief he gave up in charity all he had, as they were no more of any use to him.
24. He thought his country to be devoid of all that was delightsome to him and its people as debasing to his society; he thought his lost house was of no use to him, and his relatives and friends to be averse to his happiness.
25. Thus thinking in his mind, he determined to remove himself to a distant country and enjoy his rest there; and then taking his false gem with him, he went out and entered an uninhabited forest.
26. There his deceptive gem proving of no use to him loaded him all imaginable calamities, likening to the gloomy shadow of the black mountain and the horrid gloom of deep ignorance.
27. The affections which are brought to one by his own ignorance, are by far greater than those which are caused by his old age and the torments of death. The calamity of ignorance supercedes all other earthly affections, as the black hairs rise on the top of the body and cover the crown of the head.
The Parable of an elephant.
Argument:—Freedom of the Incarcerated Elephant; and his falling again into the Pit.
CHUDALA said:—Hear O holy hermit! another very interesting story of mine, which well applies to your case; as the ruler of a land and to serve to awaken your understandings: (from its present theory).
2. There lived a large elephant in the Vindhya mountains, which was the head and leader of a great number of elephants; and had as clear an understanding in its big and elevated head, as the lofty summit of the mountain was humbled down at the bidding of Agastya—the sage. (Agastya is recorded as the first Aryan emigrant, who crossed the Vindhya and settled in southern India, and civilized the wild mountainous and rude people of Deccan by his wise law and instructions).
3. His two tusks were as strong as the thunderbolts of heaven, and as long and stunning as the far reaching flashes of lightning; they were as destructive as the flames of final desolation (kalpánta), and as piercing as to bore and uproot a mountain.
4. He came to be caught by an iron trap laid by elephant catchers in his way, and was fast held in it as the Vindhya by the Muni's charm; and as the giant Bali was bound in the chains of India. (Vindhya and its people were spell bound by the Agastya sage).
5. The captive and patient elephant was tormented by the iron goad in his proboscis, and suffered the excruciating pains of his torture; like the Tripura giant under the burning fire of Hara. (Siva is called Tripura-hara for his quelling that giant by his fire arms).
6. The elephant lay in this sad plight in the net for three days together, and was thus watched over by his hunter for a distance. (See the paper of elephant catching in the Asiatic Researches).
7. The great suffering of the elephant made him open his mouth widely, and utter a loud scream that growled about like the loud noise of roaring clouds.
8. Then he exerted the force of both his tusks, and succeeded thereby to break asunder the iron bar; as the Titan of old, broke open the bolts at the gate of heaven.
9. The hunter saw the breaking of his hard fetters by the infuriate beast from a distance, as Hara beheld the breaking of the demon Bali (Belos) from his subterranean cell beneath the mountain, in order to invade his heaven on high.
10. The elephant catcher then mounted a tall tála (palm) tree, and leaped from its top in order to fall down on its head; but haplessly he fell down on the ground, as the demon was hurled down to hell by victorious Hara.
11. The hunter missed the head of the huge animal, and fell headlong upon his legs on the ground; as a ripe fruit, is dropped down by the hurrying winds.
12. The great elephant took pity in seeing him falling, and lying prostrate before him; as the mind of the noble, is compassionate on others even in their own piteous state.
13. The noble animal thought in his mind, that it was no valour on his part to trample over the self-fallen; and had thus the magnanimity of sparing the life of his own enemy.
14. He broke only the chains in two pieces, and took his way before him; leaving away all obstacles and barriers, as the rushing waters bear down the strongest bridge.
15. His strength broke the strong net, but his piety spared the life of the weak man; he went off as the sun sets, after dispelling the evening clouds.
16. The hunter rose up from the ground after he saw the elephant had gone away; and he found himself to be as same and sound after his fall as he had been before it; and as the elephant was relieved from his pains, after his liberation from the chains.
17. Notwithstanding with great shock which the man had felt by his fall from the tall palm tree, he felt no hurt with any part of his body; whence I ween, the bodies of scoundrels are fortified against every harm.
18. The wicked gain greater strength by execution of their repeated crimes, as the rainy clouds gather the more by their frequent showers. Thus the hunter went after his fresh excursion.
19. The elephant catcher felt very sorry, at the escape of the elephant and unsuccessfulness of his attempt; as one in dejected mind, is to lose a treasure that has fallen into his hand.
20. He sought about and beat the forest, to find out the hiding elephant amidst the thickets; as the ascending node of Rahu rises in the sky, to lay hold on the moon covered under the clouds.
21. After a long search, he came in sight of the elephant halting under a tree; as when a warrior returns from the battlefield, and breathes the air under a shady arbour.
22. The cunning huntsman collected a great many tools, capable to entrap the elephant at his resting place.
23. He dug a circular ditch round about that place in the forest, as the great creator of the world had stretched the ocean encircling this earth.
24. He then covered the great pit, with green branches and soft leaves of trees; as the season of autumn covers the face of the empty sky with fleecy and flimsy clouds.
25. The elephant roaming at large in the forest, happened to fall down into the pit one day; as the fragment of a rock on the coast, falls headlong on the dried bed of the sea.
26. The big elephant was thus caught in the circular pit, which was as deep as the dreadful depth of the sea; and lay confined in it, as some treasure is shut up in the hollow womb of a chest.
27. Being thus confined at the bottom of that far extending pit, still passes his time in endless trouble and anxiety; like the demon Bali in his dark cave under the grounds.
28. This is the effect of the silly elephant, letting unhurt his cruel hunter who had fallen ere long before him; or else he would not be thus pent up in the pit, if he made an end of him in time.
29. Hence all foolish people that had not foresight to prevent their future mishaps, and provide against their coming mischances by their precautions at present, are surely to be exposed like the calamity as the vindhyan elephant. (Hence all unforeseeing men are designated as gaja murkha or elephantine fools).
30. The elephant was glad with the thought of his freedom from the hunter's chains, and thought no more of any future mishap; which was the sole cause of his being by another mischance, which lay at a long distance from him.
31. Know, O great soul! that there is no bondage of man except his own ignorance; and the jail prisoners are not under such thraldom, as the intellectual servitude of freemen under their errors and prejudice. The enlightenment of the soul and the knowledge of the cosmos as one universal soul, is the greatest freedom of man; while the ignorance of this truth, is the root of the slavery of mankind to the errors of this world.
Way to obtain the Philosopher's stone.
Argument:—Chúdálá's Interpretation of the Parable of the Precious stone and the Glassy Gewgaw.
SIKHIDWAJA said:—Please explain unto me, O Divine boy! the purport of the parables of the true and false gems; and the unfettered and pent up elephant, which you have spoken before to me.
2. Chúdálá replied:—Hear me now expound to you the meaning of my stories, and the purport of the words and their senses; which I have stored in your heart and mind, for the enlightenment of your understanding.
3. That searcher after the philosopher's stone, was undoubtedly acquainted with science, but had no knowledge of the truth (tatwajnána); he searched the gem but knew not what it was, and the same man is thyself.
4. You are versed in the sciences as he, and shinest above others as the shining sun on the mountain tops; but you have not that rest and quiet, which is derived from the knowledge of truth; and are immerged in your errors, as a block of stone in the water.
5. Know O holy man! that it is relinquishing of errors, which is said to be the philosopher's stone (because they are the only men that have set themselves above the reach of error). Try to get that O holy man! in your possession, and set yourself thereby above the reach of misery.
6. It is the relinquishment of gross objects, that produces the pure joy of holiness; it is the abandonment of the world, that gives one the sovereignty over his soul, and which is reckoned as the true philosopher's stone.
7. Abandonment of all is the highest perfection, which you must practice betimes; because it is contemning of worldly grandeur, that shows the greatest magnanimity of the soul.
8. You have O prince! forsaken your princedom together with your princess, riches, relatives and friends, and have rested in your resignation; as Brahmá the lord of creatures, rested at the night of cessation of the act of his creation.
9. You have come out too far from your country, to this distant hermitage of mine; as the bird of heaven the great Garuda lighted with his prey of the tortoise, on the farthest mount of the earth. (The legend of Gaja-kachchhapa borne by Garuda, is narrated at length in the Purána).
10. You have relinquished your egotism, with your abandonment of all worldly goods; and you purged your nature from every stain, as autumnal winds disperse the clouds from the sky.
11. Know that it is only by driving away the egoism of the mind as well as all desires from the heart, that one gets his perfection and has the fulness of the world or perfect bliss in himself. But you have been labouring under the ignorance of what is to be abandoned and what is to be retained, as the sky labours under the clouds. (It is not the abandonment of the world, but the greedy desires of the mind, that is attended with true felicity).
12. It is not your abandonment of the world, which can give you that highest felicity the summum bonum that you seek; it is something else that must be yet sought after by you. (True happiness is a thing of heavenly growth, and is to be obtained by the grace of God only).
13. When the mind is overflown by its thoughts, and the heart is corroded by the canker of its desire; all its resignation flies from it, as the stillness of a forest flies before the tempest.
14. Of what avail is the abandonment of the world to one, whose mind is ever infested by his troublesome thoughts; it is impossible for a tree to be at rest, that is exposed to the tempests of the sky. (Inward passions disturb the breast, as tempests rend the sky).
15. The thoughts constitute the mind, which is but another name for will or desire; and so long as these are found to be raging in one, it is in vain to talk of the subjection of the mind.
16. The mind being occupied by its busy thoughts, finds the three worlds to present themselves before it in an instant; of what avail therefore is the abandonment of this world to one, when the infinite worlds of the universe are present before his mind.
17. Resignation flies on its swift pinions, soon as it sees a desire to be entertained in it; as a bird puts on its wings, no sooner it hears a noise below.
18. It is insouciance and want of care, which is the main object of the abandonment of the world; but when you allow a care to rankle in your breast, you bid a fair adieu to your resignation; as one bid farewell to his honoured and invited guest.
19. After you have let slip the precious gem of resignation from your hand, you have chosen the false glossy gewgaw of austerity for some fond wish in your view. (All outward observances of rites and austerities proceed from some favourite object fostered in the mind, while the pure bliss of holiness is obtained from the purity of the heart only, and without any need of outward acts).
20. I see thy mind is fixed in wilful pains of thy austerities, as the sight of a deluded man is settled on the reflexion of the moon in the waters (from his error of its being the true moon).
21. Forsaking the indifference of your mind, you have become a follower of the prurience of your heart; and chosen for yourself the mortification of an anchorite, which is full of from its first to last.
22. He who forsakes the easy task of his devotion to God, which is fraught with infinite bliss; and betakes himself to the difficult duties of painful austerity, is said to make a suicide of his own soul. (The sruti calls them self-suicides (átmaghanojánah); who neglect the felicity of their souls).
23. You betook yourself to the vow of self-resignation, by your relinquishment of all earthly possessions; but instead of observing the forbearance of resignation, you are bound to the painful austerities of your asceticism in this dreary wilderness.
24. You broke the bonds of your princedom, and decamped from the bounds of your realm thinking them as too painful to you; but say are you not constrained here to the faster and far more irksome toils of your asceticism, and the unbearable chains of its rigid incarceration.
25. I think you are involved in much more care to defend yourself from heat and cold in the defenceless forest, and have come to find yourself to be more fast bound to your rigours than you had any idea of this before.
26. You thought in vain to have obtained the philosopher's stone before, but must have come to find at last; that your gain is not worth even a grain of glassy bauble.
27. Now sir, I have given you a full interpretation of the avidity of a man to pocket the invaluable gem; you have no doubt comprehended its right meaning in your mind, and will now store its purport in the casket of your breast.
Interpretation of the Parable of the Elephant.
Argument:—Ignorance which is the cause of worldly desire, flies with loss of wishes.
CHUDALA continued:—Hear me, O great prince! now explain to you the meaning of the story of the Vindhyan elephant, which will be as useful as it will appear wonderful to you.
2. That elephant of the vindhyan range, is thy very self in this forest; and his two strong tusks are no other than the two virtues of reasoning and resignation, on which you lay your strength. (Viveka and vairágya i.e. reason and resignation are the most potent arms of men).
3. The hunter that was the enemy of the elephant and waylaid him in his free rambles, is the personification of that great ignorance, which hath laid hold of thee for thy misery only.
4. Even the strong is foiled by weak, and lead from one danger to another and from woe to woe; as the strong elephant was led to by the weak huntsman, and as you O mighty prince! are exposed by your imbecile ignorance in this forest.
5. As the mighty elephant was caught in the strong iron chain, so are you held fast in the snare of your desire (of a future reward); which has brought all this calamity on you.
6. The expectation of man is the iron chain, that is stronger and harder and more durable than the other; the iron rusts and wastes away in time, but our expectations rise high and hold us faster.
7. As it was in the hostility of the huntsman, that he marked the elephant by his remaining unseen in his hiding place, so thy ignorance which lurks after thee, marks thee for his prey from a distance.
8. As the elephant broke the bonds of the iron chains of his enemy, so have you broken asunder the ties of your peaceful reign and the bonds of your royalty and enjoyments.
9. It is sometimes possible, O pious prince! to break down the bonds of iron fetters; but is impossible, O holy prince, to put a stop to our growing desires and fond expectations.
10. As the huntsman that had caught the elephant in the trap, fell down himself from on high to the ground; so was thy ignorance also levelled to the ground, seeing thee deprived of thy royalty and all thy former dignity. (The pride and ignorance of a man sinks down with his misfortune).
11. When the man who is disgusted with the world, wants to relinquish his desire of enjoyment, he makes his ignorance tremble in himself, as the demon that dwells on a tree, quakes with fear when the tree is felled.
12. When the self-resigned man, remains devoid of his desire for temporal enjoyments; he bids farewell to his ignorance, which quits him as the demon departs from the fallen tree.
13. A man getting rid of his animal gratifications, demolishes the abode of his ignorance from the mind; as a woodcutter destroys the bird-nests of the tree, which he has sawn or cut down on the ground.
14. You have no doubt put down your ignorance, by your resignation of royalty and resorting to this forest; your mind is of course cast down by it, but it is not yet destroyed by the sword of your resignation. (A cast down or sunken spirit or mind is not really killed, but revives and lives again in time).
15. It rises again and gains renewed strength and minding its former defeat, it has at last over powered on you by confining you in this wilderness; and restraining you in the painful dungeon of your false asceticism.
16. If you can but now kill your fallen ignorance in any way, it will not be able to destroy you at once in your rigorous penance; though it has reduced you to this plight by your abdication of royalty.
17. The ditch that the huntsman had dug to circumvent the elephant, is verily this painful pit of austerity, which thy ignorance has scooped to enthral you in.
18. The many provisions and supplies with which the huntsman had filled the hollow, in order to entice the elephant; are the very many expectations of future reward, which your ignorance presents before you, as the recompense of your penitence.
19. O prince, though you are not the witless elephant (gaja-murkha); yet you are not unlike the same, by your being cast in this forest by your incorrigible ignorance.
20. The ditch of the elephant, was verily filled with the tender plants and leaves for the fodder of the elephant; but your cave is full of rigorous austerities, which no humanity can bear or tolerate.
21. You are still encaged in this prison house of the ascetic's cell, and doomed to undergo all the imaginative torments of your penance and martyrdom. You verily resemble the fallen Bali, that is confined in his subterranean cell.
22. You are no doubt the empty headed elephant, that art fast bound in the chain of false rigours, and incarcerated in this cave of your ignorance; thus I have given the full exposition of the parable of the elephant of Vindhyan mountain, and now glean the best lesson for thyself from this.
The Prince's abjuration of his asceticism.
Argument.—The prince coming to his sense, took all his relics of asceticism and set them on fire.
CHUDALA continued:—Tell me prince, what made you decline to accept the advice of the princess Chúdálá, who is equally skilled in morality, as well as in Divine knowledge.
2. She is an adept among the knowers of truth, and actually practices all what she preaches to others; her words are the dictates of truth, and deserved to be received with due deference.
3. If you rejected her advice, by your over confidence in your own judgment; yet let me know, why she prevented you not, from parting with your all to others. (There is a proverb that men should rely on their own judgment and that of their elders; but never on those of other people and women).
4. Sikhidhwaja replied:—But I ask you another question, and hope you will reply to it, i.e. how do you say that I have not relinquished my all, when I have resigned my realm, my habitation and my country all together; and when I left my wife and all my wealth behind.
5. Chúdálá replied:—You say truly O prince! that you have forsaken your kingdom and habitation, and your lands and relatives, and even your wife and wealth, but that does not make your relinquishment of all, since none of these truly belong to thee; they come of themselves and go away from man; it is your egoism only which is yours, and which you have not yet got rid of.
6. You have not yet abandoned your egoism, which is the greatest delight of your soul; you cannot get rid of your sorrows, until you are quite freed from your egoistic feelings.
7. Sikhidhwaja said:—If you say that my kingdom and possession, were not my all, and that this forest which I have resorted to forms my all at present; and these rocks and trees and shrubs form my present possessions, then I am willing to quit all these even, if that would constitute resignation of all.
8. Vasishtha said:—Hearing these words of the Bráhman boy—Kumbha, the cold blooded prince Sikhidhwaja held silence for a while, and returned no answer.
9. He wiped off his attachment to the forest from his heart, and made up his mind to slide away from it; as the current of a stream in the rainy weather, glides along and carries down the dust and dirt of the beach.
10. Sikhidhwaja said:—Now sir, I am resolved to leave this forest, and bid adieu to all its caves and arbours; say now does not this relinquishment of all, form my absolute abnegation of all things.
11. Kumbha replied:—The foot of this mountain with all its wood-lands, arbours and caverns are no properties of yours, but the common fells and dales of all; how then can your forsaking of them, form your self-abnegation at all?
12. The best boon of your egoism which has fallen to your lot, is still unforsaken by you; you must get rid of this, in order to be freed from the cares and sorrows of this sublunary world of woes.
13. If none of these things is mine, then my hermit's cell and grove, which I own as mine are what I am willing to resign, if that would make my total abnegation.
14. Vasishtha said:—The self-governed Sikhidhwaja being awaked to his sense, by these admonitions of Kumbha—the Bráhman boy; he remained silent for a moment, with the light that shone within him.
15. His pure conscience returned to his mind, and the blaze of his right knowledge, burnt away the dross of his attachment to the hermitage; as a gust of wind drives the dusts from the ground.
16. Sikhidhwaja said:—Know me sir, to have now taken away my heart from this hermitage, and forsaken my attachment to all its sacred bowers and arbours; now therefore consider me to have resigned my all and every thing in world.
17. Kumbha replied:—How can I consider you as fully resigned, by your resigning these groves and arbours and everything appertaining to them; none of which belong to you, nor are you their master or deserter in anyway. (Know there is but one being, who is the sole master of all).
18. Thou hast another thing to be forsaken by thee, and that is the greatest and best thing that has fallen to thy lot in this world; it must be by your resignation of that thing, that you can set yourself free from all. (The prince was so very infatuated with his knowledge of the gross sensibles, that he would never come to know what egoism meant).
19. Sikhidhwaja said:—If this even be not the all that I have, and which you want me to resign; then take these earthen pots and basins, these hides and skins and this my cell also, and know me to forgo all these forever and betake myself elsewhere.
20. Vasishtha said:—So saying the dispassionate prince rose from his seat, with his composed and quiet mind; as when an autumnal cloud rises on the top of a mountain, and disperses elsewhere.
21. Kumbha saw from his seat, the motions and movements of the prince, with her smiles and amazement, as when the sun laughs from above, to see the foolish attempts of men on the earth below.
22. Kumbha looked steadfastly on Sikhidhwaja, and sat silently with the thought, "Ah! let him do whatever he likes for his sanctification and renunciation of the temporal articles of this world, which do not serve for his spiritual edification at all."
23. Sikhidhwaja then brought out all his sacred vessels and seats from his grotto, and collected them all in one spot; as the great ocean yielded up all her submerged treasures, after the diluvian flood was over.
24. Having collecting them in a pile, he set fire to them with dried fuel; as the sun-stone or sun-glass burns down the combustible by its fire.
25. The sacred vessels and chattels which were set on fire and burnt down by it, were left behind by the prince who sat on a seat beside Kumbha; as the sun sets on the mount Meru, after he had burnt down in the world by the fire of dissolution.
26. He said to his rosary, you have been confident to me your master, as long as I turn you on my fingers as my counting beads.
27. And though I have turned you over and over, with my sacred mantras in this forests; yet you have been of no service to me at all.
28. And though I have travelled with you, Oh my reliquary! and seen many holy places in thy company; but as you proved of no good to me, I now resign you to the flames.
29. The burning fire rose in flames and flashes in the sky, and they appeared as stars glittering in it; he then cast his seat of the deer's skin on the fire, and said: I have borne you about me so long on my back as an ignorant stag.
30. It was by my ignorance, that I held you so long with me; and now you are at liberty to go your own way; where may peace and bliss attend on you forever.
31. Ascend with the rising fire to heaven, and twinkle there as the stars on high; so saying he took off his hide garment from his body with his hands, and committed it to the flames.
32. The funeral pyre of the prince spread as a sea of fire and it was driven about as a conflagration by the winds blowing from the mountains; when the prince thought of throwing his water pot also into the fire.
33. And said to it, you sir, that bore the sacred water for all my sacerdotal functions; O my good water pot, it is true that I have not the power of rendering the proper recompense of your past services.
34. You were the best model of true friendship, good nature, benevolence and constancy to me; and the best exemplar of goodness and all good qualities in thy great bounty.
35. O thou! (my water pot), that wast the receptacle of all goodness to me; now depart your own way, by your purification in the same sacred fire, as thou wast at first found by me (from the potter's fire). Be thy ways all blissful to thee! so saying he cast his water pot into the consecrated fire.
36. Because all good things are to be given to the good or to the fire; but all bad things are cast off, like the dust of the earth; and as foolish men fall to the ground, by their secret craft.
37. It is well for thee, my low mattress, to be put to fire and reduced to worthless ashes; so saying, he took up his wet matted seat, and cast it into the flaming fire.
38. The seat on which he used to sit in his pure meditation on God (i.e. his kusásana or his seat made of kusa-grass), he soon committed to the flames; because it is better to give up a thing betimes, of which one must get rid shortly afterwards.
39. This my alms-pot which contained the best articles of food, which were presented to me by good people; I now commit to this flame with whatever it has in it.
40. The fire burns a thing but once, and the burnt article ceases to burn any more; hence I shun all the implements to my ceremonial rites, in order to set me free from the bondage of all actions for ever more.
41. Be ye not sorry therefore, that I forsake you thus; for who is there, that will bear about him things that are unworthy of himself.
42. So saying, he threw into the fire all his cooking vessels, and the plates and dishes of his kitchen; and all things whatever he had need of in his hermitage. And these began to burn in a blaze, us the world was burnt down by the all destructive fire of the kalpánta.