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(3) These are the hindrances: the darkness of unwisdom, self-assertion, lust hate, attachment.

(100) On its killing the cow of the body, the source of evil. Lust says, "Why hast thou killed my cow?" It says, "Because lust's cow is the form of the body." Reason, the Lord's child, has become a pauper, Lust, the murderer, has become a lord and chief. Know'st thou what is meat untoiled for? 'Tis the food of spirits and the aliment of the Prophet. But it is attainable only by slaying the cow; Treasure is gained by digging, O digger of treasure!

(1) ALL the righteousness, the charity, the worship of the Blessed, that have been wrought in thousands of aeons, are destroyed by ill-will. There is no guilt equal to hatred, no mortification equal to long-suffering; and therefore one should diligently practise patience in divers ways. While the arrow of hate is in the heart, none can have a peaceful mind in equipoise, or feel the joy of kindliness, none can win sleep or calm. They whom a master cursed with an evil spirit honours with wealth and favours, and who dwell under his protection, seek nevertheless to destroy him. Even his friends are in terror of him. His gifts win for him no service. In short, there is no way for a passionate man to find happiness. He who stoutly fights against wrath, the enemy that brings these and other sorrows, wins joy in this world and beyond. Nourished by discontent, hatred grows swollen and destroys me; and discontent springs from doing unpleasing works or^from^the baffling of desire. Then I will cut off the nourishment of my enemy, for this foeman's sole purpose is to slay me. My cheerfulness shall not be disturbed, even by the most untoward events; discontent works no good, and only destroys merit. What profits discontent if there is a remedy; and what profits it if there is none? We shrink from sorrow, defeat, rude speech, and dishonour for ourselves and our friends, and from the opposite of these for our enemy. Happiness is hard to win, pain comes readily; there is no escape from life save by pain; then be firm, 0 my spirit! The Karnatas, the " little children of Durga," suffer the agonies of burning and maiming in a vain hope of salvation; why then shall I be fainthearted? There is nothing which practice cannot make easy; so by practice in slight sufferings we learn to bear great pains. Flies, stinging creatures, gnats, hunger, thirst, and other like pains, fierce itch and other like miseries — lookest thou upon these as profitless? Before cold, heat, rain, wind, travel, sickness, bondage, and blows be not tender and delicate, else thy anguish will increase. Some there are who at the sight of their own blood become exceedingly valorous, and some at sight of others' blood fall into faintness. This comes about through firmness and feebleness of spirit; then he who is unconquerable by pain will overcome suffering. Even in pain the wise man will not let the calm of his spirit be disturbed; for he is at war with the Passions, and in war suffering abounds. They who overcome their foes by presenting their bosoms to the enemy's blows are " victors," " heroes "; the rest are " slayers of the slain."

(4) They who with evil scheme and will shall cherish and help on the Wrath of Rapine, and with her Râma , and (not by silent favour, but) with their very tongues, whose will and wish (run) not with good but evil deeds. These settle and support the Daêvas (in their power, not the Lord). It is the wicked's Faith and Insight (so to do. Their faith is the perverted).

(3) I have found this most rare sphere of weal, I know not how; and shall I with open eyes suffer myself to be borne back to these hells? My thought cannot grasp it; like one who is driven mad by spells, I know not by whom I am crazed or who possesses me. My foes, Desire, Hate, and their kindred, are handless and footless, they are neither valiant nor cunning; how can they have enslaved me? But they dwell in my spirit, and there at their ease smite me. And withal I am not wroth with them; fie on my unseemly long-suffering! If all gods and mankind were my foes, they could not drag me to the fire of the hell Avlchi; but into this flame, at the touch whereof not even ashes would remain of Meru, these mighty enemies the Passions hurl me in an instant. No other foes have life so long as the beginningless, endless, everlasting life of my enemies the Passions. All beings may be turned by submission to kindness; but these Passions become all the more vexatious by my submission. Then whilst these everlasting foes, sole source of the birth of the floods of sorrow, are dwelling in my heart, how can I fearlessly rejoice in the life of the flesh? Whence can I have happiness, if these warders of the prison-house of existence, ay, these torturers of the damned in hell and elsewhere, lodge in the house of my spirit, in the bower of my desire? Then I will not lay down my burden until these foes be smitten before my eyes. Men of lofty spirit are stirred to wrath against even a mean offender, and sleep not until they have smitten him. They rage in the forefront of battle, furious, heeding not the anguish of wounds from arrows and javelins, to strike fiercely at the poor creatures doomed by nature to death, and turn not away until they have fulfilled their purpose. How then, and for what reason, should I, who have set myself to strike down these natural foes, the constant causes of all miseries, sink down in base despair, even for hundreds of disasters? Men bear on their limbs, like ornaments, meaningless scars gotten from their enemies; why should sufferings overcome me, who am labouring to accomplish a lofty end? Setting their thoughts upon their mere livelihood, fishers, Chanqlalas, husbandmen, and the like bear the miseries of cold, heat, and the rest; why should not I suffer them for the weal of the world?

(91) Which say, "See me a man destined to the fire; I am a part of the fire, and go to join my whole; Not a light, so that I should join the Source of light." Kill thine own lust and give life to the world; It has killed its lord, reduce it to servitude. That claimant of the cow is thy lust; Beware! That slayer of the cow is thy reason; Go! Reason is a poor captive, and ever cries to God On what depends its getting meat without toiling?

(17) And avarice, want, pain, hunger, disease, lust, and lethargy were diffused by him abroad upon the ox and Gâyômard.