INVESTIGATION INTO TRUE HAPPINESS.
Argument:--The princess goes in quest of the Prince. Their Meeting and
the Admonition of the _Princess_.
Vasishtha continued:--In this manner, the prince Sikhidhwaja remained
in his monastery in the forest, in his state of perfect felicity; while
the princess remained at home, and did as you shall now hear from me.
2. After the prince had gone away from the palace at midnight, Chúdálá
started from her sleep; as a timid fawn lying in the village, is
startled by fear.
3. She found the bed vacated by her husband and thought it as dreary as
the sky, without the sun and moon. (A deserted wife is as forlorn as a
deserted village or desolate country).
4. She rose up with a melancholy face, and with her heart full of
sorrow and sadness; and her limbs were as lank as the leaves of plants,
without being well watered in summer.
5. Sorrow sat heavy in her heart, and drove the charm and cheerfulness
off her countenance; and she remained as a winter day, over cast by a
cloud or covered by a hoar-frost over its face.
6. She sat awhile on the bedstead, and thought with sorrow in herself;
saying, "Ah woe unto me" that my lord is gone away from here, and
abandoned a kingdom for a retreat in the woods.
7. What then can I do now, than repair to my husband; where he is,
because it is appointed both by the law of nature and God, that the
husband is the only resort and support of the wife.
8. Having thought so, Chúdálá rose up to follow her husband and she
fled by the door of a window into the open air. (This means that her
spirit fled into air, by the power of her yoga).
9. She roamed in her aerial course, and by the force of her breath on
the wings of air; and appeared before the face of the aerial spirits
(siddhas), as a second moon moving in the skies.
10. As she was passing at the night time, she happened to behold her
lord roving about with a sword in his hand; and appearing as a ghost of
a vetála or demon wandering in the solitary forest.
11. The princess seeing her husband in this manner from her aerial
seat, she began to reflect on the future state which awaited on her
husband; and which she foresaw by power of her yoga.
12. It is certain, O Ráma! that whatever is allotted in the book of
fate to befall on any body at any time or place or manner, the same is
sure to take place at the very moment and spot and in the same way (and
all this is well known to the holy seer and seeress by the prophetic
power, which they acquire by their knowledge and practice of yoga).
13. The princess seeing plainly in her presence, whatever is to take
place on her husband; and knowing it to be averted by no means, she
stopped from going to him to communicate the same.
14. Be my visit postponed to him to a future occasion, when it is
destined for me to be in his company again.
15. Thinking so in her mind Chúdálá turned her course from him, and
returned to her inner apartment and reclined on her milk white pillow;
as the crescent of the moon lies recumbent on the hoary forehead of
Hara.
16. She proclaimed to her people, that the prince was gone on some
important occasion; and having relieved with the consolation of his
quick return, she took the reins of the government in her own hands.
17. She managed the state in the manner of her husband, according
to the established rules of toleration; and with the same care and
vigilance, as the husband-woman guards her ripening cornfields.
18. In this manner they passed their days without seeing one another,
and the conjugal pair lived separated from each other; in their
respective habitations of the royal palace and the solitary forest.
19. And in this manner passed on their days and nights, their weeks and
fortnights, their months and seasons in regular succession over one and
another; the one counting his days in the woods and the other in her
princely palace.
20. What is the use of a lengthy description of full eighteen years,
which glided on slowly over the separated couple, the one dwelling in
her palatial dome, and the other in his woodland retreat.
21. Many more years elapsed in this manner, until the hermit prince
Sikhidhwaja was overtaken by the hoary old age; in his holy hermitage
in a cell of the great Mandara mountain.
22. Knowing the passions of the prince to be on the wane, with his
declining age and grey hairs, and finding herself not yet too old to
overtake him in the distant forest.
23. And believing that it was the proper time for her to prevail on
him, and to bring him back to the palace, she thought of joining her
husband where he was.
24. With these thoughts, she made up her mind of going towards the
Mandara mountain; and started from her home at night, and mounted on
the wings of air to the upper sky.
25. As she was moving onward on the pinions of air, she beheld in the
upper sky some Siddhawomen, wearing the thin bark of the kalpa tree and
girt with jewels of clustering gems.
26. These were the inhabitants of the garden of paradise, and going out
to meet their Siddha husbands; and sprinkled over with perfumeries,
shedding their dews as bright moon beams.
27. She breathed the air perfumed by the flowers of the garden of
paradise, and worn by the Siddhas of Eden; and wallowed in the moon
beams, waving like the billows of the milky ocean.
28. She felt a purer moon light, as she ascended the higher atmosphere;
and she passed amidst the clouds, as the flashing lightning moves in
their midst. (The fair princess flashed as the lightning).
29. She said, this flashing lightning though situated in the bosom of
her cloudy spouse, is yet looking at him repeatedly with the winkling
of her eyes; so must I look out for my absent lord, as I pass like the
lightning in the midway sky.
30. It is true, she said, that nature is irrepressible during the life
time of a person; hence it is impossible for my disquieted mind, to
have its quiet without the sight of my loving and lion like lord.
31. My mind roves and runs mad, when I say, I will see my lord, and
when I will see these creepers turning round and clasping their
supporting tree. (And all my philosophy avails me naught against my
nature).
32. My mind loses its patience to see the contraction of these
senseless creepers, and the excursion of the superior siddha females in
quest of their consorts. (All animated nature from the vegetable to the
immortal are bound by conjugal love).
33. How then and when, shall I like them come to meet the man that is
situated in my heart.
34. These gentle breezes, and these cooling moon-beams and those plants
of the forest, do all continue to disquiet my heart and set it on fire
(instead of cooling its fervour).
35. O my simple heart, why dost thou throb in vain and thrill at every
vein within me? and oh my faithful mind, that art pure as air, why dost
thou lose thy reason and right discretion?
36. It is thou O faithless mind! that dost excite my heart to run after
its spouse; better remain with thy yearnings in thyself, than torment
my quiet spirit with thy longings.
37. Or why is it, O silly woman! that thou dost long in vain after thy
husband, who possibly became too old (to require thee any more); he is
now an ascetic and too weak in his bodily frame, and devoid of all his
earthly desires.
38. I think these desires of the enjoyment of his princely honors and
pleasures, have now been utterly rooted out of his mind; and the plant
of his fondness for sensual gratifications, is now as dry as a channel
that pours forth its waters into a large river or sea.
39. I think my husband, who was as fond of me as to form one soul with
myself; has become as callous to soft passions, as a dried and withered
tree.
40. Or I will try the power of my yoga to waken his mind to sense, and
infuse the eager longings and throbbings of my heart into his.
41. I will collect the thoughts of the ascetic devotee to one focus,
and employ them towards the government of his realm; where we may be
settled for ever to our hearts content.
42. O I have after long discovered the way to my object, and it is by
infusing my very thoughts into the mind of thy husband.
43. The unanimity of the minds of the wedded pair, and the pleasure
of their constant union; contribute to the highest happiness of human
beings on earth.
44. Revolving in this manner in her mind, the princess Chúdálá passed
onward in her aerial journey; now mounting on mountains and mountainous
clouds, and then passing the bounds of lands and visible horizons; she
reached the sight of Mandara, and found the glen and cavern in it.
45. She entered the grove as an aerial spirit invisible to sight, and
passed as the air amidst it known by the shaking of the leaves of
trees. (The spirits like winds have motion and the power of moving
other bodies).
46. She beheld a leafy hut in one corner of the wood, and knew her
husband by the power of her yoga; though appeared to be transformed to
another person.
47. She found his body that was decorated before by a variety of
jewels, and glittered as the mount of Meru with its gold; to have grown
as lean and thin and as dark and dry, as a withered and dried leaf.
48. He wore a vest of rays, and seemed as if he had dipped in a
fountain of ink; he sat alone in one spot, and appeared as the god Siva
to be wholly devoid of all desire.
49. He was sitting on the barren ground, and stringing the flowers to
his braided hairs; when the beauteous princess approached before him.
50. She was moved to sorrow at the sight of his miserable plight, and
thus bespoke to herself inaudibly in her mind. Alas, how painful it is
to behold this piteous sight!
51. O! the great stupidity that rises from ignorance of spiritual
knowledge, and which has brought on this miserable condition on this
self-deluded prince.
52. I must not call him unfortunate, as long as he is my husband;
though the deep darkness of his mind (ignorance) hath brought to this
miserable plight. (The living husband however miserable, is always to
be called true fortunate by the faithful wife.)
53. I must try my best to bring him to the knowledge of truth, which
will no doubt restore him to his sense of enjoyment here, and of his
liberation hereafter; and change his figure to another form altogether.
54. I must advance nearer to him to instil understanding in his mind,
or else my words will make no effect in him; who treats me always as
his young and silly wife.
55. I will therefore admonish my husband in the figure of a devotee,
and it is possible that my admonition delivered in this manner, will
make its effect in him; who is now grown hoary with age (old age must
have abated the ardour of youth).
56. It is possible that good senses may dawn in the clear
understanding, which is not perverted from its nature; saying so the
princess Chúdálá took the shape of a Bráhman boy on herself.
57. She reflected a little on the Agni-soma-mantra, and changed her
form as the water turns to a wave; and then alighted on the earth, in
the shape of a Brahman's lad.
58. She advanced toward her lord with a smiling countenance, and the
prince Sikhidhwaja beheld the Bráhman boy advancing towards him.
59. He appeared to come from some other forest, and stood before him
in the form of devotion itself; his body was as bright as the molten
gold, and his person was ornamented with a string of pearls.
60. The white sacrificial thread graced his neck, and his body was
covered with two pieces of milk white vests; he held the sacred water
pot on one hand, and with his pupils staff in the other, he made his
approach to the prince. (The order of the students was called _dandi_
from their holding the sacred stick in one hand, like the pilgrim staff
in Europe).
61. His wrist was entwined by a string of beads, and a long and double
chain of rosary hang from his neck to the ground. (Double and triple
threads of sacred seeds worn about the necks of saints).
62. His head was covered over by long and flowing jet black hairs, in
the manner of the strings of black bees, fluttering about the tops of
white lotuses; and the radiance of his, shed a lustre on the spot.
63. His face ornamented with earrings, glowed as the rising sun with
his lustre of rosy rays, and the knotted hair on the top of his head
with the mandára flower fastened on it, appeared as pinnacle of a
mountain with the rising moon above it.
64. The husband that sat quiet with his tall stature, and his limbs and
senses under his subjection; appeared as a mount of ice with the ashes
rubbed all over his body.
65. He saw the Bráhman boy appearing before him, as the full moon
rising on the aureate mount of Meru; and rose before him with the
respect. (Which is paid to that luminary by her worshippers).
66. Thinking his guest as the son of some God, the prince stood with
his bare feet before him; and addressed him saying, obeisance to thee O
thou son of a God, take this seat and sit thyself there.
67. He pointed out to him with his hand the leafy bed that was spread
before him, and offered him a handful of flowers which he poured into
his hands.
68. The Bráhman boy responded to him saying: "I greet thee in return,
O thou son of a king! that lookest like a dew drop or the beaming
moon-light sparkling on a lotus leaf." He then received the flowers
from his hand and sat upon the leafy bed.
69. Sikhidhwaja said:--Tell me O thou heaven born boy, whence thou
comest and whither thou goest, as for me it is lucky day that has
brought thee to my sight.
70. Please accept this pure water, and fragrant flowers and this
honorarium also; and receive this string of flowers, that I have strung
with my hands; and so be all well with thee.
71. Vasishtha related:--So saying, Sikhidhwaja offered the flowers, the
wreathed blossoms, the honorariums and other offerings; as directed by
the ceremonial law to his worshipful lady.
72. Chúdálá said:--I have travelled far and wide over many countries
on the surface of this earth, and have never met with so hearty a
reception and such honors; as I have now received from thee.
73. Thy humility, courtesy and complacence bespeak thee to be highly
favoured of the Gods, and betoken thee to be attended with long life on
earth. (Because the meek and gentle are said to be long lived on earth).
74. Tell me O devotee, whether you have ever applied your mind towards
the acquirement of your final liberation and extinction; after the
abandonment of all your earthly desires, by the magnanimity and
tranquillization of your soul for a long time. (It is true you have
long forsaken the vanities of the world, but have you set your heart to
seek the eternal emancipation of your soul?).
75. You have, my dear Sir, chosen a very painful alternative for your
final liberation, that you have made the vow of your undergoing the
hardship of this forest life, by forsaking the care of your large
dominion. (The care of the state is painful, but the pains of hermitage
are much more so).
76. Sikhidhwaja replied:--I wonder not that thou must know all things,
being a God thyself and thou wearest this form of the Bráhman boy,
yet the supernatural beauty of thy person, bespeaks thee to be an
all-knowing deity.
77. Methinks these members of the body, are bedewed with the ambrosial
beam of moonlight, or how could thy very appearance shed such
nectarious peace even at the first sight.
78. O handsome boy! I see in thy person a great resemblance of the
features of my beloved one, who is now reigning over my kingdom (and
whom perhaps I will see no more in this life).
79. Please now to refresh thy fair and fatigued frame, with wearing
these flowery chaplet from the head to foot; as the vest of a hoary
cloud, invests a mountain from its top to bottom.
80. I see thy face as beautiful, as the stainless moon; and thy limbs
as delicate, as tender petals of flowers; and I find them now waning
and fading under the solar gleams.
81. Know pretty youth that it was for the service of the gods, that I
had wreathed the flowers together; and now I offer and bequeath them to
thee, that art no less a God to me.
82. My life is crowned today with its best luck by its service of a
guest like thyself, for it is said by the wise that attendance on
guests is meritorious than the merit of attending on the Gods. (Hence
the law of Hospitality is not less binding on the Hindu than it is with
the Bedouin Arabs).
83. Now deign O moon faced deva (deity) to reveal unto me what God thou
art, and the progeny of what deity that dost deign to dignify me with
thy visit; please tell me all this and remove the doubts that disturb
my breast.
84. The Bráhman boy replied:--Hear me, prince, relate to thee all that
thou requirest to know of me; for who is there so uncivil, that will
deceive and not comply to the request of his humble suppliant.
85. There lives in this world, the well known, the holy saint Nárada by
name; who is the snowy spot of pure camphor, on the face of those that
are famed for the purity of their lives.
86. It was at one time that this Godly saint sat in his devotion in
a cavern of the golden mountain; where the holy river of Gangá, fast
flows with her running current and huge billows dashing against the
shore.
87. The saint stepped out once to the beach of the river, to see how
it glided on in its course; like a necklace of gems torn down from the
mountain on high.
88. He heard there at once the tinkling sound of trinkets and
bracelets, and a mixed murmur of vocal voice; and felt the curiosity to
know what it was and whence it came.
89. He lightly looked towards the sacred stream and observed there an
assemblage of young ladies, who equalled the celestial nymphs Rambhá
and Tilottamá in the beauty of their persons; who had come out to sport
by and bathe in the clear waters of the holy river.
90. They plunged and played in the waters removed from the sight of
men, and were all naked with their uncovered breasts; blooming as the
buds of golden lotuses in the lake.
91. These were jogging to and fro and dashing against one another like
the ripened fruits of trees, and seemed to be filled with flavoured
liquor for the giddiness of their observers.
92. Their swollen bosoms formed the sanctuary of the God of love, and
were washed by the pure waters of the sacred river.
93. Their fullness with luscious liquor, put to blush the sweet waters
of the sacred river of Gangá; they were as mound in the garden of
paradise, and as the wheels of the car for the God Káma to ride upon.
94. Their buttocks were as pillars of the bridge in water, obstructing
and dividing the free passage of the waters of the Ganges; and their
upper part of the body, gives a lustre of world's beauty.
95. The shadow of one another's body was clearly visible to the naked
eye, on the limpid waters of the Gangá; like a Kalpa tree in rainy
season, with all its branches.
96. The thick verdure of the verdant season, had put to shade the light
of the day; and the flying dust of flowers, had filled the forest air
with fragrance.
97. Water-fowls of various kinds were sporting on the banks, as they do
by the sea side and about the watering places round the trees; while
the budding breasts of these dames, had put to blush the blooming buds
of lotuses.
98. They held up their faces, which were as beautiful as a bud of
lotuses; while their loosened hairs hung by them, like swarms of
bees; and the loose glances of their eye-balls, were playing as the
fluttering black-bees.
99. Their swollen breasts resembling the aureate lotuses, which were
used by the Gods as golden cups to hide their ambrosial nectar; therein
for fear of its being ravished by the demons and demi-Gods.
100. They were now seen to be hiding themselves in the secret bowers
and caverns of the mountain, like lotuses hidden under foliage; and
now hastening to the cooling beach of the river, to leave their lovely
limbs in its limpid stream.
101. The saint saw the bevy of the young ladies, resembling the body of
the full moon complete with all its digits; and his mind was ravished
with their beauty (as the minds of men are turned to the delirium of
lunacy by looking at the moon-light).
102. He lost the balance of his reason, and became elated with
giddiness; and his breath of his life throbbed in his heart, by impulse
of the delight that raged and boiled in his breast.
103. At last the excess of his rapture, gave effusion of his passion;
as the fullness of a cloud in summer, breaks out in water in the rainy
weather.
104. The saint turned as wan as a waning moon, and as the pale
moon-light in frost; and like a fading plant, torn from its supporting
tree.
105. He faded as the stalk of a creeper parted in two, and withered
away as a sapling after it has lost its juicy sap.
106. Sikhidhwaja asked:--How is it that the pure and peerless saint,
who is liberated in his life time and acquainted with all knowledge;
who is void of desires and devoid of passions, and who is as pure as
the clear air both in the inside as well as outside of his body?
107. How is it that even he the holy Nárada himself, could lose his
patience and countenance who leads his life of celibacy all along?
108. Chúdálá replied:--Know, O princely sage! that all living beings
in the three worlds not excepting even the Gods; have their bodies
composed of both ingredients (of good and evil) by their very nature.
109. Some remain in ignorance, and others in knowledge to the end of
their lives; and some remaining in happiness, and others in misery to
the end of their days.
110. Some thrive in happiness with their virtue of contentment and the
like, and are enlightened in their minds like a room by the light of
the lamps; and as the bosom of the sea by the light of the luminaries
of heaven.
111. Some are tormented by their hunger and poverty, and are involved
in misery like the face of nature under the darkness of clouds.
112. The true and pure reality of the soul (divine spirit), being
once lost to one's sight (the visible or phenomenal world): makes its
appearance before him, like a dark and thick cloud of rainy weather.
113. Though one may be employed in his continuous investigation into
spirituality, yet a moment's neglect of his spiritualism is sure to
darken his spiritual light; as the apparition of the world appears to
sight.
114. As the succession of light and darkness makes the course of the
day and night, so the return of the pain and pleasure indicates the
progress of life. (This variety kills the monotony of life).
115. Thus the two states of pleasure and pain, are known to accompany
over lives from birth to death; as the results of our prior acts (of
merit and demerit).
116. This impression of past life marks the lives of the ignorant
entirely, as the red colouring sticks for ever in a cloth; but it is
not so with the intelligent, whose knowledge of truth wipes off the
stigma of their pristine acts.
117. As the eternal hue of a gem, whether it be good or bad, is
exhibited on the outside of it; and also as a crystal stone, however
clear it may be, takes the colour of the outward object in it (so the
ignorant exhibit their inherent nature in their outward conduct, and
partake also the qualities of their surroundings).
118. But it is not so with the intelligent knower of truth (tatwajna),
whose soul is free from all inward and outward impressions in his life
time; and whose mind is never tinged like that of the ignorant, by the
reflexion of anything about him. (Knowledge of truth is vitiated by
nothing).
119. It is not only the contiguity or presence of things or pleasures,
that taint the minds of the ignorant; but the absence and loss also are
causes of great regret, from the stain they leave in the memory; as it
is not only a new paint that paints a thing, but also the vestiges that
it leaves behind, give it also a colouring. (The remembrance of past
things, gives a colouring to the character of man).
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.