(3) Now Kahola Kaushltakeya questioned him. * Yajna- valkya/ said he, ' explain to me him who is just the Brahma present and not beyond our ken, him who is the Soul in all things. ' He is your soul, which is in all things/ ' He who passes beyond hunger and thirst, beyond sorrow and delusion, beyond old age and death — Brahmans who know such a Soul overcome desire for sons, desire for wealth, desire for worlds, and live the life of mendicants. For desire for sons is desire for wealth, and desire for wealth is desire for worlds, for both these are merely desires. Therefore let a Brahman become disgusted with learning and desire to live as a child. When he has become disgusted both with the state of childhood and with learning, then he becomes an ascetic (muni). When he has become disgusted both with the non-ascetic state and with the ascetic state, then he becomes a Brahman/ us ' By what means would he become a Brahman? ' Aught else than this Soul (Atman) is wretched/ Thereupon Kahola Kaushitakeya held his peace.

(1) Another bird said to the Hoopoe: 'I am my own enemy; there is a thief in me. How can I make this journey hindered by bodily appetites and a dog of desire which wiU not submit? How can I save my soul? The prowling wolf I

know but this dog I do not know, and he is so attractive. I know not where I am with this unfaithful body. Will I ever understand it?'

The Hoopoe replied: 'You yourself are a stray dog, trampled underfoot. This "soul" of yours is one-eyed and squinting; vile, slothful and unfaithful. If a man is drawn to you it is because he is dazzled by the tinsel glitter of your "soul". It is not good for this dog of desire to be pampered and rubbed with oils. As a child, man is weak and heedless; as a youth he is engaged in struggle; and when old age takes possession desire languishes and the body is feeble. Existence being such, how will this dog acquire the ornament of spiritual qualities? From beginning to end we live heedlessly, and obtain nothing. Often a man comes to the end empty, with nothing in him except a desire for the things of exterior life. Thousands perish from grief, but this dog of desire never dies. Listen to the story of a gravedigger who had grown old in his trade. Someone asked him: "Will you answer a question for me since you have spent your whole life digging graves. Tell me if you have ever seen a marvel?" He said: "My dog of desire has seen the dead buried for seventy years, but he himself has not once died, nor for a single moment has he obeyed the laws of God. This is a marvel!"'

(2) One day Shaikh Khircani, who rested upon the very throne of God, had an intense longing for an aubergine. He called for it with horn and voice, so his mother went out and got one. No sooner had he eaten it than it happened that they cut off the head of his child, and at night a wicked man placed it on his doorstep. The shaikh then said: "A hundred times I had a foreboding that if I ate so much as a small piece of aubergine something disastrous would happen. But the desire for it was so strong that I could not overcome it.'

He who allows his desires to master him stifles his own soul. The learned know nothing; there is no surety in their learning; and many sorts of knowledge are required. At any moment a new caravan may arrive and a new test.

I know of no one so fortunate as Pharaoh's magicians, who, with the faith of men today, separated their souls from themselves; and, grounded in religion, relinquished all love for things of the world.

(6) Then he said: ' It is well known that I have a full share of gold, of cows and horses, of female slaves, of rugs, of apparel. l6l M Be not ungenerous toward me, Sir, In regard to that which is the abundant, the infinite, the unlimited/ 'Then, verily, 0 Gautama, you should seek in the usual manner.' 6 1 come to you, Sir, as a pupil! ' — with [this] word, verily, indeed, men aforetime came as pupils. — So with the acknow- ledgment of coming as a pupil he remained.

(5) Shaikh Mahnah was in a state of great perplexity, his heart broken in two, when he saw in the distance an old villager of pious appearance, walking leisurely, while from his body emanated a bright light. The shaikh saluted him and then

told him about the sad state he was in. The old villager listened, and after thinking a little said: 'O Bu Sa'id, if they were to fill with millet, not once but a hundred times, the space from lowest earth to the throne of God, and if a bird took one grain of millet in a thousand years, and then flew a hundred times round the world, even in all that time your soul would have no news of the celestial court and Bu Sa'id would still be far off.'

Great patience is necessary for those who suffer; but no one is patient. When the quest is diverted from the inner to the outer, even if it should extend over the universe, in the end it will be unsatisfying. He who is not engaged in the quest of the inner life is no more than an animal - what shall I say? He does not even exist, he is a non-entity, a form without a soul.

(5) A pupil one night saw his dead teacher in a dream and said to him: 'Tell me what state you are in now. Since you went I have been lost in bewilderment, and burned up with grief.'

The pir replied: 'I am in such a state of amazement that I can only bite the back of my hand. I am in the pit, dumbfounded; and I have had more of a shock than ever I experienced in life.'

(12) But despite its fall, the whole earth cannot satisfy the lust of the flesh; who can do its will? To him who longs for the impossible come guilt and bafflement of desire; but he who is utterly without desire has a happiness that ages not. Then give no room for the lust of the flesh to swell; blessed indeed is the thing that is not imagined for the sake of its pleasant- ness. The body is a motionless thing stirred by something without, and ending in ashes, a loathsome frame of foulness; why do I cling to it? What have I to do with this machine, alive or dead? What distinguishes it from such things as clods of earth? Alas, O thought of self, thou wilt not die! Through complicity with the flesh I win sorrow, all to no purpose; it is no better than a thing of wood, and what should avail its hatred or its kindness? It feels no love when I guard it, no hate when vultures devour it; then why do I love it? I am angered when it is treated with scorn, delighted when it is honoured; but if it has no knowledge, to what end is my toil? My friends, forsooth, are they who wish well to this body; but all men wish well to their own flesh, and why are not they also my friends? So I have surrendered my body indifferently for the weal of the world; it is but as an instrument of work that I still bear it, with all its guilt. Enough then of worldly ways! I follow in the path of the Wise, remembering the Discourse upon Heedfulness and putting away sloth. To overcome the power of darkness I concentre my thought, drawing the spirit away from vain paths and fixing it straightly upon its stay.

A certain king dreamed that his dearly beloved son, a youth of great promise, had come to an untimely end. On awaking he was rejoiced to find that his son was still alive; but he reflected that an accident might carry him off at any moment, and therefore decided to marry him without delay, in order that the succession might be secured. Accordingly he chose the daughter of a pious Darvesh as a bride for his son, and made preparations for the wedding. But his wife and the other ladies of his harem did not approve of the match, considering it below the dignity of the prince to marry the daughter of a beggar. The king rebuked them, saying that a Darvesh who had renounced worldly wealth for the sake of God was not to be confounded with an ordinary beggar, and insisted on the consummation of the marriage. After the marriage the prince refused to have anything to do with his bride, though she was very fair to look on, and he carried on an intrigue with an ugly old woman who had bewitched him by sorcery. After a year, however, the king found some physicians who succeeded in breaking the spell, and the prince returned to his senses, and his eyes were opened to the superior attractions of his wife, and he renounced his ugly paramour and fell in love with his wife. This is a parable, the true wife being the Deity, the old paramour the world, and the physicians the prophets and saints. Another illustration is a child who played at besieging a mimic fort with his fellows, and succeeded in capturing it and keeping the others out. At this moment God "bestowed on him wisdom, though a child," and it became to him a day "when a man flees from his brethren," and he recognized the emptiness of this idle sport, and engaged in the pursuit of holiness and piety. This is followed by an anecdote of a devotee who had so concentrated his thoughts on things above that he was utterly careless of all earthly troubles, and was cheerful and rejoicing even in the midst of a severe famine. The world is the outward form of "Universal Reason" (Muhammad), and he who grieves him must expect trouble in the world.

(1) He desired: * Let me sacrifice further with a greater sacrifice (yajna)V He toitured himself. He practised austerity. When he had tortured himself and practised austerity, glory and vigor went forth. The glory and vigor, verily, are the vital breaths. So when the vital breaths departed, his body began to swell. His mind, indeed, was in his body (sarira).

(8) 'A Brâhmana that dwells in the house of a foolish man without receiving food to eat, destroys his hopes and expectations, his possessions, his righteousness, his sacred and his good deeds, and all his sons and cattle.'

(1) Sariputra was thinking of mealtime and of the food for the Bodhisattvas in the meeting when Vimalakirti, who read his thought, said to him: “The Buddha taught the eight forms of liberation which you have received for practice; do you know mix your desire to eat with His Dharma? If you want to eat, please wait for a moment and you will have a rare treat.”

(1) 'When the Father produced by intellect and austerity seven kinds of food' — truly by intellect and austerity the Father did produce them. ' One of his [foods] was common to all.' That of his which is common to all is the food that is eaten here. He who worships that, is not turned from evil, for it is mixed [i.e. common, not selected]. 'Of two he let the gods partake/ They arc the tmta (fire-sacrifice) and thtfra/mta (offering). For this reason one sacrifices and offers to the gods. People also say that these two are the new-moon and the full-moon sacrifices. Therefore one should not offer sacrifice [merely] to secure a wish first both men and animals live upon milk. Therefore they either make a new-bom babe lick butter or put it to the breast. Likewise they call a new-born calf 'one that does not eat grass ' what does not ' — for upon milk everything depends, both what breathes and what does not. This that people say, cBy offering with milk for a year one escapes the second death ' — one should know that this is not so, since on the very day that he makes the offering he who knows escapes the second death, for he offers all his food to the gods. eaten all the time?' Verily, the Person is imperishableness, for he produces this food again and again. ' He who knows this imperishableness ' — verily, a person is imperishableness, for by continuous meditation he produces this food as his work. Should he not do this, all the food would perish. ( He eats food with his mouth (pratlkd)' The prattka is the mouth. So he eats food with his mouth.

(1) What is it hinders me from expounding my doctrines But this, that my hearers' hearts incline elsewhere. Their thoughts are intent on that Sufi guest; So I am compelled to turn from my discourse To that story, and to set forth his condition. But, O friend, think not this Sufi a mere outward form, O son, our bodies are as dried grapes and raisins; If you are a man, cast away these things. If you pass on to the pure mysteries of God, Now hear the outward form of my story,

(9) Mark how fortune brings endless misfortune by the miseries of winning it, guarding it, and losing it; men's thoughts cling altogether to their riches, so that they have not a moment to free themselves from the sorrows of life. Thus they who are possessed by desire suffer much and enjoy little, as the ox that drags a cart gets but a morsel of grass. For the sake of this morsel of enjoyment, which falls easily to the beast's lot, man, blinded by his destiny, wastes this brief fortune, that is so hard to win. For all time lasts the struggle for the welfare of the mean body that is doomed to depart and fall into hell, and even a millionth part of this labour would win the rank of the Enlightened. Greater is the pain of them that are possessed by desire than the pain of the way of holiness, and no Enlightenment comes to them. Neither sword, nor poison, nor fire, nor fall into abysses, nor foemen may be compared to the desires, if we bear in mind the agonies of hell and the like. Then shrink from the desires, and learn delight in solitude, in the peaceful woodlands void of strife and toil. Happy are they who are fanned by the sweet silent breezes of the forest, as they walk upon the pleasant rock-floors broad as in a palace and cooled by the moonbeams' sandal ointment, and take thought for the weal of their fellow-creatures! Dwelling anywhere for what time they will, in deserted sanctuary or cave or beneath the trees, saved from the weariness of winning and guarding possessions, they wander fancy-free at pleasure. Indra himself can hardly win the bliss of contentment that is enjoyed by him who wanders homeless at his own free will and unattached to aught.