TALE XXII.
The sprite said, “Your majesty! there is a city named Biswapur, the king of which was named Bidagdha. A Brahman, named Nãrãyan, dwelt in his city. He one day began thinking to himself, ‘My body has become old, and I am acquainted with the science which enables one to enter another’s body; it is therefore better that I quit this old body, and enter the body of some young man and enjoy life.’ When he had determined on this in his mind, he set about entering a youthful body; but first he wept, and then he laughed, and after that he entered it and came home. All his kinsfolk, however, were aware of what he had done, and thereupon he said to them, ‘I have now become an ascetic.’”
“Having said this, he began to recite (as follows): ‘He who dries up the fountain of hope with the fire of austere devotion, and placing his soul therein, (thus) deadens his senses—he may be termed a wise devotee. But the way of the people of this world is (such), that the body may waste away, the head shake, the teeth drop out, and they walk about with a stick in their old age, yet, even then, desire is not quenched. And thus it is that time passes away—day comes, night arrives, a month is over, a year is completed; one is a child, then an old man, while nothing is known as to who one himself is (lit. I am), and who others are, and why one grieves for another. One comes, another goes, and ultimately all life must depart—not one of these will remain. Many and various bodies are there, and many and various minds, and many and various affections, and various kinds of delusions has Brahma created; but the wise escape these, and quenching hope and desire, shaving their heads, taking a staff and water-pot in their hands, subduing the passions of love and anger, become ascetics, and wander barefooted from one place of pilgrimage to another; these same find eternal salvation. This world, moreover, is as a dream; to whom can you impart pleasure in it, to whom pain? It is even like the new leaf shooting from the centre of the plaintain tree, wherein is no pith whatever. And those who pride themselves on riches, youth, or knowledge, are unwise. Again, they who turn devotees, and, taking a water-pot in hand, beg alms from door to door, and nourishing their bodies with milk, clarified butter, and sugar, become lustful, and have sexual intercourse with women, they nullify their religious meditations.’ After repeating so much, he proceeded, saying, ‘I will now go on a pilgrimage.’ On hearing these words, his relations were much pleased.”
Having told so much of the story, the sprite said, “Your majesty! why did he weep, and why did he laugh?” Then the king said, “Calling to mind his mother’s love in his infancy, and the happiness of his youth, and from a feeling of affection in having remained so many days in that body, he wept; and having succeeded in his art, and entered a new body, he laughed with pleasure.” On hearing these words, the sprite went and hung on to the same tree; (and) again did the king bind him as before, place him on his shoulder, and carry him away.
TALE XXIII.
This sprite said, “Your majesty! there was a city named Dharmpur, where a king named Dharmaj ruled. In his city was a Brahman named Govind, versed in the whole four Vedas and all the six learned treatises, and a careful observer of all his religious duties; and Haridatt, Somdatt, Yagyadatt and Brahmadatt were his four sons. They were very learned, very clever, and at all times obedient to their father. After some time his eldest son died, and he, too, was at the point of death through grief for him.”
“At that time, Vishnusharma, the king’s family priest, came and began reasoning with him, saying, ‘When this (being) man enters the mother’s womb, he first suffers pain there; secondly, falling under the influence of love in youth, he endures the anguish of separation from his beloved; thirdly, becoming old, he is involved in suffering through his body being feeble. In brief, many are the sorrows attendant on (man’s) being born in the world, and few (are) the joys; for the world is the source of sorrow. If a man were to climb to the top of a tree, or go and sit on the summit of a mountain, or remain hiding in water, or sneak into an iron cage and remain therein, or go and conceal himself in the infernal regions—even then death would not let him escape. Moreover, whatever one may be—whether learned or a fool, rich or poor, wise or unwise, strong or weak—still, this all devouring death lets no one escape. The full duration of a man’s life is a hundred years; of this, half passes away in night, and half of the half in childhood and old age; the remainder is spent in contention, the (distress arising from) separation from those we love, and affliction. Further, the soul that is, is as restless as a watery wave; how, then, can it yield man any peace? And now, in this Iron Age, to meet with truthful men is a difficult matter; while countries are daily laid! waste, kings are avaricious, the earth yields little fruit, thieves and evil doers commit violence on the earth; and but little of religion, devotion, and truth remain in the world; kings are tyrannical, Brahmans covetous, men have fallen under the influence of women, wives have become wanton, sons have begun reviling their fathers, and friends (have begun to display) enmity. Observe, further, that death did not even spare the great Chimanyu, whose maternal uncle was Kanhaiya, and father Arjun. And when Yama * carries off a man, wealth remains behind in his house, and father, mother, wife, son, brothers and kindred—no one proves of any avail; his good and evil deeds, his vices and his virtues alone accompany him; while those same kinsfolk take him to the burning-ground and burn him. And see (how) the night comes to an end on one side, while day dawns on the other; here the moon sets, there the sun rises. In the same way youth departs, old age comes on; thus, also, time goes on passing away, and yet, even while perceiving this, man does not learn wisdom. Observe, again, in the First, or Golden Age, Mandhãta, a great king, who filled (lit. covered) the whole earth with the fame of his virtue; and in the Second, or Silver Age, the glorious monarch Rãmchandra, who, bridging the sea, destroyed such a fortress as Lanka, and slew Rãvan; and in the Third Age, Yudhisthir reigned in such a manner that people sing of his renown to this day—yet death did not spare even these. Moreover, the birds which fly in the air, and the animals which dwell in the sea, when the hour arrives, even these fall into trouble. No one has escaped sorrow on coming into this world. To grieve on this account is folly. It is best, therefore, to practise religious duties.’”
* Yama is the judge of the deceased, and ruler of the
infernal regions: also, the god of death.