The Yaksha-What enemy is invincible? What constitutes an incurable disease for man? What sort of man is called honest, and what dishonest?

Yudhisthira-Anger is an invincible enemy. Covetousness constitutes an incurable disease. He is honest that desires the weal of all creatures, and he is dishonest that is unmerciful.

The Yaksha-What, O king, is ignorance? And what is pride? What also is to be understood by idleness? And what hath been spoken of as grief?

Yudhisthira-True ignorance consists in not knowing one's duties. Pride is a consciousness of one's being himself an actor or a sufferer in life. Idleness consists in not discharging one's duties. And ignorance is grief.

The Yaksha—What hath steadiness been said to be? And what patience? What also is a real bath? And what is charity?

Yudhisthira-Steadiness consists in one's staying in one's own religion. True patience consists in the subjugation of the senses. A true bath consists in washing the mind clean of all impurities. And charity consists in protecting all creatures.

The Yaksha- What man should be regarded as learned, and who should be called an atheist? Who is also to be called ignorant? What is called desire, and what are the sources of desire? And what is envy?

Yudhisthira-He is to be called learned who knoweth his duties. An atheist is he who is ignorant, and he who is ignorant is an atheist. Desire is due to objects of possession. And envy is nothing else than grief of heart.

The Yaksha-What is pride, and what hypocrisy? What is the grace of the gods, and what is wickedness?

Yudhisthira-Stolid ignorance is pride; the setting up of a religious standard is hypocrisy. The grace of the gods is the fruit of our gifts; and wickedness consists in speaking ill of others.

The Yaksha- Virtue, profit, and desire are opposed to one another. How could things thus antagonistic to one another exist together?

Yudhisthira - When a wife and virtue agree with each other, then all the three thou hast mentioned may exist together. The Yaksha - O bull of the Bharata race, who is he that is condemned to everlasting hell?

Yudhisthira-He that summoneth a poor Brahmana, prom

ising to make him a gift, and then tells him that he hath nothing to give, goeth to everlasting hell. He also must go to everlasting hell who imputes falsehood to the Vedas, the Scriptures, the Brahmanas, the gods, and the ceremonies in honor of the Pitris. He also goeth to everlasting hell who, though in possession of wealth, never giveth away nor enjoyeth himself, from avarice, saying he hath none.

The Yaksha-By what, O king,- birth, behavior, study, or learning, - doth a person become a Brahmana? Tell us with certitude!

-

Yudhisthira-Listen, O Yaksha! It is neither birth nor study nor learning that is the cause of Brahmanhood. Without doubt, it is behavior that constitutes it. One's behavior should always be well guarded, especially by a Brahmana. He who maintains his conduct unimpaired is never impaired himself. He, however, whose conduct is lost is lost himself. Professors and pupils, all who study the Scriptures, in fact, if addicted to wicked habits, are to be regarded as illiterate wretches. He only is learned who performeth his religious duties. He even that hath studied the four Vedas is to be regarded as a wicked wretch, scarcely distinguishable from a Sudra, if his conduct be not correct. He only who performeth the Agni-Votra and hath his senses under control is called a Brahmana.

The Yaksha-What doth one gain that speaketh agreeably? What doth he gain that always acteth with judgment? What doth he gain that hath many friends? And what he that is devoted to virtue ?

Yudhisthira-He that speaketh agreeable words becometh agreeable to all. He that acteth with judgment obtaineth whatever he seeketh. He that hath many friends liveth happily. And he that is devoted to virtue obtaineth a happy state in the next world.

The Yaksha-Who is truly happy? What is most wonderful? What is the path? And what is the news?

Yudhisthira A man who cooketh in his own house scanty vegetables on the fifth or the sixth day, but who is not in debt and who stirreth not from home, is truly happy. Day after day countless beings are going to the abode of Yama (the god of death), yet those that remain behind believe themselves to be immortal. What can be more wonderful than this? Argument leads to no certain conclusion; the Crutis are different

from one another; there is not even one Rishi whose opinion can be accepted as infallible; the truth about religion and duty is hid in caves: therefore, that alone is the path along which the great have trod. This world, full of ignorance, is like a pan. The sun is fire; the days and nights are fuel. The months and the seasons constitute the wooden ladle. Time is the cook, that with such aids is cooking all creatures in that pan: this is the news.

The Yaksha-Thou hast, O represser of foes, truly answered all my questions! Tell us now who is truly a man, and what man truly possesseth every kind of wealth.

Yudhisthira - The report of one's good action reacheth heaven and spreadeth over the earth. As long as that report lasteth, so long is a person called a man. And that person to whom the agreeable and the disagreeable, weal and woe, the past and the future, are the same, is said to possess every kind of wealth.

APHORISMS ON LIFE.

(From Bacon's "Apothegms.")

THE senses are like the sun.

The sun makes the heavens invisible and the earth clear; the senses obscure heavenly things and open up earthly ones. - Philo Judæus.

Good repute is like fire: once kindled, it is easily kept alive; but when extinguished, not easily lighted again.Plutarch.

:

He is not a wise man that will lose his friend for his wit he is less a wise man that will lose his friend for another man's wit. - Bacon.

It was said of Thales, who fell into the water while looking up at the stars, that if he had looked into the water he might have seen the stars, too, but by looking at the stars he could not see the water. (That is, practical life gives room for the highest aspiration and the loftiest ideals, while idle speculation gives no room for practical virtues.)

(That

Love without end has no end. - Spanish Proverb. is, the only lasting love is that without taint of selfish motives.) The most needful piece of learning for the uses of life is to unlearn what is untrue. Antisthenes.

Wise men learn more by fools than fools by wise men. Cato the Elder.

Men of weak abilities set in high places are like little statues on large pedestals, all the more insignificant from being raised up. — Plutarch.

THE DEATH OF A SON.1

DASARATHA DECLARES HIS BEREAVEMENT A PUNISHMENT.

(From the Ramayana: translated by Sir Monier Monier-Williams.)

ONE day when rains refreshed the earth, and caused my heart to swell with joy;

When, after scorching with his rays the parchèd ground, the summer

sun

Had passed towards the south; when cooling breezes chased away the heat

And grateful clouds arose; when frogs and peafowl sported, and the deer

Seemed drunk with glee, and all the winged creation, dripping as if drowned,

Plumed their dank feathers on the tops of wind-rocked trees, and falling showers

Covered the mountains till they looked like watery heaps, and torrents poured

Down from their sides, filled with loose stones and red as dawn with mineral earth,

Winding like serpents in their course; then, at that charming season, I,

Longing to breathe the air, went forth, with bow and arrow in my

hand,

To seek for game, if haply by the riverside a buffalo,

An elephant, or other animal might cross at eve my path,

Coming to drink. Then in the dusk I heard the sound of gurgling water;

Quickly I took my bow, and aiming toward the sound, shot off the dart.

a human voice

A cry of mortal agony came from the spot,
Was heard, and a poor hermit's son fell pierced and bleeding in the

stream.

"Ah! wherefore then," he cried, "am I, a harmless hermit's son, struck down?

1 From "Indian Wisdom." By permission of author and Luzac & Co.
4th edition, post 8vo., cloth, price £1 18.

Hither to this lone brook I came at eve to fill my water jar.

By whom have I been smitten? Whom have I offended? Oh! I

grieve

Not for myself or my own fate, but for my parents, old and blind, Who perish in my death. Ah! what will be the end of that loved pair,

Long guided and supported by my hand? This barbèd dart hath pierced

Both me and them." Hearing that piteous voice, I, Dasaratha, Who meant no harm to any human creature, young or old, became Palsied with fear; my bow and arrows dropped from my senseless hands;

And I approached the place in horror; there with dismay I saw Stretched on the bank an innocent hermit boy, writhing in pain and smeared

With dust and blood, his knotted hair disheveled, and a broken jar Lying beside him. I stood petrified and speechless. He on me Fixed full his eyes; and then, as if to burn my inmost soul, he said:

"How have I wronged thee, monarch? that thy cruel hand has smitten me,

Me, a poor hermit's son, born in the forest: father, mother, child Hast thou transfixed with this one arrow: they, my parents, sit at

home,

Expecting my return, and long will cherish hope-a prey to thirst
And agonizing fears. Go to my father-tell him of my fate,
Lest his dread curse consume thee, as the flame devours the withered
wood.

But first in pity draw thou forth the shaft that pierces to my heart And checks the gushing lifeblood, as the bank obstructs the bounding stream!"

He ceased, and as he rolled his eyes in agony, and quivering writhed
Upon the ground, I slowly drew the arrow from the poor boy's side.
Distracted at the grievous crime, wrought by my hand unwittingly,
Sadly I thought within myself how I might best repair the wrong,
Then took the way he had directed me towards the hermitage.
There I beheld his parents, old and blind; like two clipped, wing-
less birds

Sitting forlorn, without their guide, awaiting his arrival anxiously,
And, to beguile their weariness, conversing of him tenderly.

Quickly they caught the sound of footsteps, and I heard the old

man say

With chiding voice, "Why hast thou lingered, child? Quick, give us both to drink

A little water. Long forgetful of us, in the cooling stream