Vishnupurana 2.13

MAITREYA.--Reverend sir, all that I asked of you has been thoroughly explained; namely, the situation of the earth, oceans, mountains, rivers, and planetary bodies; the system of the three worlds, of which Vishńu is the stay. The great end of life has also been expounded by you, and the preeminence of holy knowledge. It now remains that you fulfil the promise you made some time since, of relating to me the story of king Bharata, and how it happened that a monarch like him, residing constantly at the sacred place Śálagráma, and engaged in devotion, with his mind ever applied to Vásudeva, should have failed, through time sanctity of the shrine, and the efficacy of his abstractions, to obtain final emancipation; how it was that he was born again as a Brahman; and what was done by the magnanimous Bharata in that capacity: all this it is fit that you inform me.

MAITREYA.--Reverend sir, all that I asked of you has been thoroughly explained; namely, the situation of the earth, oceans, mountains, rivers, and planetary bodies; the system of the three worlds, of which Vishńu is the stay. The great end of life has also been expounded by you, and the preeminence of holy knowledge. It now remains that you fulfil the promise you made some time since, of relating to me the story of king Bharata, and how it happened that a monarch like him, residing constantly at the sacred place Śálagráma, and engaged in devotion, with his mind ever applied to Vásudeva, should have failed, through time sanctity of the shrine, and the efficacy of his abstractions, to obtain final emancipation; how it was that he was born again as a Brahman; and what was done by the magnanimous Bharata in that capacity: all this it is fit that you inform me.

MAITREYA.--Reverend sir, all that I asked of you has been thoroughly explained; namely, the situation of the earth, oceans, mountains, rivers, and planetary bodies; the system of the three worlds, of which Vishńu is the stay. The great end of life has also been expounded by you, and the preeminence of holy knowledge. It now remains that you fulfil the promise you made some time since, of relating to me the story of king Bharata, and how it happened that a monarch like him, residing constantly at the sacred place Śálagráma, and engaged in devotion, with his mind ever applied to Vásudeva, should have failed, through time sanctity of the shrine, and the efficacy of his abstractions, to obtain final emancipation; how it was that he was born again as a Brahman; and what was done by the magnanimous Bharata in that capacity: all this it is fit that you inform me.

MAITREYA.--Reverend sir, all that I asked of you has been thoroughly explained; namely, the situation of the earth, oceans, mountains, rivers, and planetary bodies; the system of the three worlds, of which Vishńu is the stay. The great end of life has also been expounded by you, and the preeminence of holy knowledge. It now remains that you fulfil the promise you made some time since, of relating to me the story of king Bharata, and how it happened that a monarch like him, residing constantly at the sacred place Śálagráma, and engaged in devotion, with his mind ever applied to Vásudeva, should have failed, through time sanctity of the shrine, and the efficacy of his abstractions, to obtain final emancipation; how it was that he was born again as a Brahman; and what was done by the magnanimous Bharata in that capacity: all this it is fit that you inform me.

MAITREYA.--Reverend sir, all that I asked of you has been thoroughly explained; namely, the situation of the earth, oceans, mountains, rivers, and planetary bodies; the system of the three worlds, of which Vishńu is the stay. The great end of life has also been expounded by you, and the preeminence of holy knowledge. It now remains that you fulfil the promise you made some time since, of relating to me the story of king Bharata, and how it happened that a monarch like him, residing constantly at the sacred place Śálagráma, and engaged in devotion, with his mind ever applied to Vásudeva, should have failed, through time sanctity of the shrine, and the efficacy of his abstractions, to obtain final emancipation; how it was that he was born again as a Brahman; and what was done by the magnanimous Bharata in that capacity: all this it is fit that you inform me.

MAITREYA.--Reverend sir, all that I asked of you has been thoroughly explained; namely, the situation of the earth, oceans, mountains, rivers, and planetary bodies; the system of the three worlds, of which Vishńu is the stay. The great end of life has also been expounded by you, and the preeminence of holy knowledge. It now remains that you fulfil the promise you made some time since, of relating to me the story of king Bharata, and how it happened that a monarch like him, residing constantly at the sacred place Śálagráma, and engaged in devotion, with his mind ever applied to Vásudeva, should have failed, through time sanctity of the shrine, and the efficacy of his abstractions, to obtain final emancipation; how it was that he was born again as a Brahman; and what was done by the magnanimous Bharata in that capacity: all this it is fit that you inform me.

PARÁŚARA.--The illustrious monarch of the earth resided, Maitreya, for a considerable period at Śálagráma, his thoughts being wholly dedicated to god, and his conduct distinguished by kindness and every virtue, until he had effected, in the highest degree, the entire control over his mind. The Rájá was ever repeating the names, Yajneśa, Achyuta, Govinda, Mádhava, Ananta, Keśava, Krishńa, Vishńu, Hrishikeśa; nothing else did be utter, even in his dreams; nor upon anything but those names, and their import, did he ever meditate. He accepted fuel, flowers, and holy grass, for the worship of the deity, but performed no other religious rites, being engrossed by disinterested, abstract devotion.

PARÁŚARA.--The illustrious monarch of the earth resided, Maitreya, for a considerable period at Śálagráma, his thoughts being wholly dedicated to god, and his conduct distinguished by kindness and every virtue, until he had effected, in the highest degree, the entire control over his mind. The Rájá was ever repeating the names, Yajneśa, Achyuta, Govinda, Mádhava, Ananta, Keśava, Krishńa, Vishńu, Hrishikeśa; nothing else did be utter, even in his dreams; nor upon anything but those names, and their import, did he ever meditate. He accepted fuel, flowers, and holy grass, for the worship of the deity, but performed no other religious rites, being engrossed by disinterested, abstract devotion.

PARÁŚARA.--The illustrious monarch of the earth resided, Maitreya, for a considerable period at Śálagráma, his thoughts being wholly dedicated to god, and his conduct distinguished by kindness and every virtue, until he had effected, in the highest degree, the entire control over his mind. The Rájá was ever repeating the names, Yajneśa, Achyuta, Govinda, Mádhava, Ananta, Keśava, Krishńa, Vishńu, Hrishikeśa; nothing else did be utter, even in his dreams; nor upon anything but those names, and their import, did he ever meditate. He accepted fuel, flowers, and holy grass, for the worship of the deity, but performed no other religious rites, being engrossed by disinterested, abstract devotion.

PARÁŚARA.--The illustrious monarch of the earth resided, Maitreya, for a considerable period at Śálagráma, his thoughts being wholly dedicated to god, and his conduct distinguished by kindness and every virtue, until he had effected, in the highest degree, the entire control over his mind. The Rájá was ever repeating the names, Yajneśa, Achyuta, Govinda, Mádhava, Ananta, Keśava, Krishńa, Vishńu, Hrishikeśa; nothing else did be utter, even in his dreams; nor upon anything but those names, and their import, did he ever meditate. He accepted fuel, flowers, and holy grass, for the worship of the deity, but performed no other religious rites, being engrossed by disinterested, abstract devotion.

PARÁŚARA.--The illustrious monarch of the earth resided, Maitreya, for a considerable period at Śálagráma, his thoughts being wholly dedicated to god, and his conduct distinguished by kindness and every virtue, until he had effected, in the highest degree, the entire control over his mind. The Rájá was ever repeating the names, Yajneśa, Achyuta, Govinda, Mádhava, Ananta, Keśava, Krishńa, Vishńu, Hrishikeśa; nothing else did be utter, even in his dreams; nor upon anything but those names, and their import, did he ever meditate. He accepted fuel, flowers, and holy grass, for the worship of the deity, but performed no other religious rites, being engrossed by disinterested, abstract devotion.

On one occasion he went to the Mahanadi, for the purpose of ablution: he bathed there, and performed the ceremonies usual after bathing, Whilst thus occupied, there came to the same place a doe big with young, who had come out of the forest to drink of the stream. Whilst quenching her thirst, there was heard on a sudden the loud and fearful roaring of a lion; on which the doe, being excessively alarmed, jumped out of the water upon the bank. In consequence of this great leap, her fawn was suddenly brought forth, and fell into the river; and the king, seeing it carried away by the current, caught hold of the young animal, and saved it from being drowned. The injury received by the deer, by her violent exertion, proved fatal, and she lay down, and died; which being observed by the royal ascetic, he took the fawn in his arms, and returned with it to his hermitage: there he fed it and tended it every day, and it throve and grew up under his care. It frolicked about the cell, and grazed upon the grass in its vicinity; and whenever it strayed to a distance, and was alarmed at a wild beast, it ran back thither for safety. Every morning it sallied forth from home, and every evening returned to the thatched shelter of the leafy bower of Bharata.

On one occasion he went to the Mahanadi, for the purpose of ablution: he bathed there, and performed the ceremonies usual after bathing, Whilst thus occupied, there came to the same place a doe big with young, who had come out of the forest to drink of the stream. Whilst quenching her thirst, there was heard on a sudden the loud and fearful roaring of a lion; on which the doe, being excessively alarmed, jumped out of the water upon the bank. In consequence of this great leap, her fawn was suddenly brought forth, and fell into the river; and the king, seeing it carried away by the current, caught hold of the young animal, and saved it from being drowned. The injury received by the deer, by her violent exertion, proved fatal, and she lay down, and died; which being observed by the royal ascetic, he took the fawn in his arms, and returned with it to his hermitage: there he fed it and tended it every day, and it throve and grew up under his care. It frolicked about the cell, and grazed upon the grass in its vicinity; and whenever it strayed to a distance, and was alarmed at a wild beast, it ran back thither for safety. Every morning it sallied forth from home, and every evening returned to the thatched shelter of the leafy bower of Bharata.

On one occasion he went to the Mahanadi, for the purpose of ablution: he bathed there, and performed the ceremonies usual after bathing, Whilst thus occupied, there came to the same place a doe big with young, who had come out of the forest to drink of the stream. Whilst quenching her thirst, there was heard on a sudden the loud and fearful roaring of a lion; on which the doe, being excessively alarmed, jumped out of the water upon the bank. In consequence of this great leap, her fawn was suddenly brought forth, and fell into the river; and the king, seeing it carried away by the current, caught hold of the young animal, and saved it from being drowned. The injury received by the deer, by her violent exertion, proved fatal, and she lay down, and died; which being observed by the royal ascetic, he took the fawn in his arms, and returned with it to his hermitage: there he fed it and tended it every day, and it throve and grew up under his care. It frolicked about the cell, and grazed upon the grass in its vicinity; and whenever it strayed to a distance, and was alarmed at a wild beast, it ran back thither for safety. Every morning it sallied forth from home, and every evening returned to the thatched shelter of the leafy bower of Bharata.

On one occasion he went to the Mahanadi, for the purpose of ablution: he bathed there, and performed the ceremonies usual after bathing, Whilst thus occupied, there came to the same place a doe big with young, who had come out of the forest to drink of the stream. Whilst quenching her thirst, there was heard on a sudden the loud and fearful roaring of a lion; on which the doe, being excessively alarmed, jumped out of the water upon the bank. In consequence of this great leap, her fawn was suddenly brought forth, and fell into the river; and the king, seeing it carried away by the current, caught hold of the young animal, and saved it from being drowned. The injury received by the deer, by her violent exertion, proved fatal, and she lay down, and died; which being observed by the royal ascetic, he took the fawn in his arms, and returned with it to his hermitage: there he fed it and tended it every day, and it throve and grew up under his care. It frolicked about the cell, and grazed upon the grass in its vicinity; and whenever it strayed to a distance, and was alarmed at a wild beast, it ran back thither for safety. Every morning it sallied forth from home, and every evening returned to the thatched shelter of the leafy bower of Bharata.

On one occasion he went to the Mahanadi, for the purpose of ablution: he bathed there, and performed the ceremonies usual after bathing, Whilst thus occupied, there came to the same place a doe big with young, who had come out of the forest to drink of the stream. Whilst quenching her thirst, there was heard on a sudden the loud and fearful roaring of a lion; on which the doe, being excessively alarmed, jumped out of the water upon the bank. In consequence of this great leap, her fawn was suddenly brought forth, and fell into the river; and the king, seeing it carried away by the current, caught hold of the young animal, and saved it from being drowned. The injury received by the deer, by her violent exertion, proved fatal, and she lay down, and died; which being observed by the royal ascetic, he took the fawn in his arms, and returned with it to his hermitage: there he fed it and tended it every day, and it throve and grew up under his care. It frolicked about the cell, and grazed upon the grass in its vicinity; and whenever it strayed to a distance, and was alarmed at a wild beast, it ran back thither for safety. Every morning it sallied forth from home, and every evening returned to the thatched shelter of the leafy bower of Bharata.

On one occasion he went to the Mahanadi, for the purpose of ablution: he bathed there, and performed the ceremonies usual after bathing, Whilst thus occupied, there came to the same place a doe big with young, who had come out of the forest to drink of the stream. Whilst quenching her thirst, there was heard on a sudden the loud and fearful roaring of a lion; on which the doe, being excessively alarmed, jumped out of the water upon the bank. In consequence of this great leap, her fawn was suddenly brought forth, and fell into the river; and the king, seeing it carried away by the current, caught hold of the young animal, and saved it from being drowned. The injury received by the deer, by her violent exertion, proved fatal, and she lay down, and died; which being observed by the royal ascetic, he took the fawn in his arms, and returned with it to his hermitage: there he fed it and tended it every day, and it throve and grew up under his care. It frolicked about the cell, and grazed upon the grass in its vicinity; and whenever it strayed to a distance, and was alarmed at a wild beast, it ran back thither for safety. Every morning it sallied forth from home, and every evening returned to the thatched shelter of the leafy bower of Bharata.

On one occasion he went to the Mahanadi, for the purpose of ablution: he bathed there, and performed the ceremonies usual after bathing, Whilst thus occupied, there came to the same place a doe big with young, who had come out of the forest to drink of the stream. Whilst quenching her thirst, there was heard on a sudden the loud and fearful roaring of a lion; on which the doe, being excessively alarmed, jumped out of the water upon the bank. In consequence of this great leap, her fawn was suddenly brought forth, and fell into the river; and the king, seeing it carried away by the current, caught hold of the young animal, and saved it from being drowned. The injury received by the deer, by her violent exertion, proved fatal, and she lay down, and died; which being observed by the royal ascetic, he took the fawn in his arms, and returned with it to his hermitage: there he fed it and tended it every day, and it throve and grew up under his care. It frolicked about the cell, and grazed upon the grass in its vicinity; and whenever it strayed to a distance, and was alarmed at a wild beast, it ran back thither for safety. Every morning it sallied forth from home, and every evening returned to the thatched shelter of the leafy bower of Bharata.

On one occasion he went to the Mahanadi, for the purpose of ablution: he bathed there, and performed the ceremonies usual after bathing, Whilst thus occupied, there came to the same place a doe big with young, who had come out of the forest to drink of the stream. Whilst quenching her thirst, there was heard on a sudden the loud and fearful roaring of a lion; on which the doe, being excessively alarmed, jumped out of the water upon the bank. In consequence of this great leap, her fawn was suddenly brought forth, and fell into the river; and the king, seeing it carried away by the current, caught hold of the young animal, and saved it from being drowned. The injury received by the deer, by her violent exertion, proved fatal, and she lay down, and died; which being observed by the royal ascetic, he took the fawn in his arms, and returned with it to his hermitage: there he fed it and tended it every day, and it throve and grew up under his care. It frolicked about the cell, and grazed upon the grass in its vicinity; and whenever it strayed to a distance, and was alarmed at a wild beast, it ran back thither for safety. Every morning it sallied forth from home, and every evening returned to the thatched shelter of the leafy bower of Bharata.

On one occasion he went to the Mahanadi, for the purpose of ablution: he bathed there, and performed the ceremonies usual after bathing, Whilst thus occupied, there came to the same place a doe big with young, who had come out of the forest to drink of the stream. Whilst quenching her thirst, there was heard on a sudden the loud and fearful roaring of a lion; on which the doe, being excessively alarmed, jumped out of the water upon the bank. In consequence of this great leap, her fawn was suddenly brought forth, and fell into the river; and the king, seeing it carried away by the current, caught hold of the young animal, and saved it from being drowned. The injury received by the deer, by her violent exertion, proved fatal, and she lay down, and died; which being observed by the royal ascetic, he took the fawn in his arms, and returned with it to his hermitage: there he fed it and tended it every day, and it throve and grew up under his care. It frolicked about the cell, and grazed upon the grass in its vicinity; and whenever it strayed to a distance, and was alarmed at a wild beast, it ran back thither for safety. Every morning it sallied forth from home, and every evening returned to the thatched shelter of the leafy bower of Bharata.

On one occasion he went to the Mahanadi, for the purpose of ablution: he bathed there, and performed the ceremonies usual after bathing, Whilst thus occupied, there came to the same place a doe big with young, who had come out of the forest to drink of the stream. Whilst quenching her thirst, there was heard on a sudden the loud and fearful roaring of a lion; on which the doe, being excessively alarmed, jumped out of the water upon the bank. In consequence of this great leap, her fawn was suddenly brought forth, and fell into the river; and the king, seeing it carried away by the current, caught hold of the young animal, and saved it from being drowned. The injury received by the deer, by her violent exertion, proved fatal, and she lay down, and died; which being observed by the royal ascetic, he took the fawn in his arms, and returned with it to his hermitage: there he fed it and tended it every day, and it throve and grew up under his care. It frolicked about the cell, and grazed upon the grass in its vicinity; and whenever it strayed to a distance, and was alarmed at a wild beast, it ran back thither for safety. Every morning it sallied forth from home, and every evening returned to the thatched shelter of the leafy bower of Bharata.

Whilst the deer was thus the inmate of his hermitage, the mind of the king was ever anxious about the animal, now wandering away, and now returning to his side, and he was unable to think of anything else. He had relinquished his kingdom, his children, all his friends, and now indulged in selfish affection for a fawn. When absent for a longer time than ordinary, he would fancy that it had been carried off by wolves, devoured by a tiger, or slain by a lion. "The earth," he would exclaim, "is embrowned by the impressions of its hoofs. What has become of the young deer, that was born for my delight? How happy I should be if he had returned from the thicket, and I felt his budding antlers rubbing against my arm. These tufts of sacred grass, of which the heads have been nibbled by his new teeth, look like pious lads chanting the Sáma-veda." Thus the Muni meditated whenever the deer was long absent from him; and contemplated him with a countenance animated with pleasure as he stood by his side. His abstraction was interrupted, the spirit of the king being engrossed by the fawn, even though he had abandoned family, wealth, and dominion. The firmness of the prince's mind became unsteady, and wandered with the wanderings of the young deer. In the course of time the king became subject to its influence. He died, watched by the deer, with tears in its eyes, like a son mourning for his father; and he himself, as he expired, cast his eyes upon the animal, and thought of nothing else, being wholly occupied with one idea.

Whilst the deer was thus the inmate of his hermitage, the mind of the king was ever anxious about the animal, now wandering away, and now returning to his side, and he was unable to think of anything else. He had relinquished his kingdom, his children, all his friends, and now indulged in selfish affection for a fawn. When absent for a longer time than ordinary, he would fancy that it had been carried off by wolves, devoured by a tiger, or slain by a lion. "The earth," he would exclaim, "is embrowned by the impressions of its hoofs. What has become of the young deer, that was born for my delight? How happy I should be if he had returned from the thicket, and I felt his budding antlers rubbing against my arm. These tufts of sacred grass, of which the heads have been nibbled by his new teeth, look like pious lads chanting the Sáma-veda." Thus the Muni meditated whenever the deer was long absent from him; and contemplated him with a countenance animated with pleasure as he stood by his side. His abstraction was interrupted, the spirit of the king being engrossed by the fawn, even though he had abandoned family, wealth, and dominion. The firmness of the prince's mind became unsteady, and wandered with the wanderings of the young deer. In the course of time the king became subject to its influence. He died, watched by the deer, with tears in its eyes, like a son mourning for his father; and he himself, as he expired, cast his eyes upon the animal, and thought of nothing else, being wholly occupied with one idea.

Whilst the deer was thus the inmate of his hermitage, the mind of the king was ever anxious about the animal, now wandering away, and now returning to his side, and he was unable to think of anything else. He had relinquished his kingdom, his children, all his friends, and now indulged in selfish affection for a fawn. When absent for a longer time than ordinary, he would fancy that it had been carried off by wolves, devoured by a tiger, or slain by a lion. "The earth," he would exclaim, "is embrowned by the impressions of its hoofs. What has become of the young deer, that was born for my delight? How happy I should be if he had returned from the thicket, and I felt his budding antlers rubbing against my arm. These tufts of sacred grass, of which the heads have been nibbled by his new teeth, look like pious lads chanting the Sáma-veda." Thus the Muni meditated whenever the deer was long absent from him; and contemplated him with a countenance animated with pleasure as he stood by his side. His abstraction was interrupted, the spirit of the king being engrossed by the fawn, even though he had abandoned family, wealth, and dominion. The firmness of the prince's mind became unsteady, and wandered with the wanderings of the young deer. In the course of time the king became subject to its influence. He died, watched by the deer, with tears in its eyes, like a son mourning for his father; and he himself, as he expired, cast his eyes upon the animal, and thought of nothing else, being wholly occupied with one idea.

Whilst the deer was thus the inmate of his hermitage, the mind of the king was ever anxious about the animal, now wandering away, and now returning to his side, and he was unable to think of anything else. He had relinquished his kingdom, his children, all his friends, and now indulged in selfish affection for a fawn. When absent for a longer time than ordinary, he would fancy that it had been carried off by wolves, devoured by a tiger, or slain by a lion. "The earth," he would exclaim, "is embrowned by the impressions of its hoofs. What has become of the young deer, that was born for my delight? How happy I should be if he had returned from the thicket, and I felt his budding antlers rubbing against my arm. These tufts of sacred grass, of which the heads have been nibbled by his new teeth, look like pious lads chanting the Sáma-veda." Thus the Muni meditated whenever the deer was long absent from him; and contemplated him with a countenance animated with pleasure as he stood by his side. His abstraction was interrupted, the spirit of the king being engrossed by the fawn, even though he had abandoned family, wealth, and dominion. The firmness of the prince's mind became unsteady, and wandered with the wanderings of the young deer. In the course of time the king became subject to its influence. He died, watched by the deer, with tears in its eyes, like a son mourning for his father; and he himself, as he expired, cast his eyes upon the animal, and thought of nothing else, being wholly occupied with one idea.

Whilst the deer was thus the inmate of his hermitage, the mind of the king was ever anxious about the animal, now wandering away, and now returning to his side, and he was unable to think of anything else. He had relinquished his kingdom, his children, all his friends, and now indulged in selfish affection for a fawn. When absent for a longer time than ordinary, he would fancy that it had been carried off by wolves, devoured by a tiger, or slain by a lion. "The earth," he would exclaim, "is embrowned by the impressions of its hoofs. What has become of the young deer, that was born for my delight? How happy I should be if he had returned from the thicket, and I felt his budding antlers rubbing against my arm. These tufts of sacred grass, of which the heads have been nibbled by his new teeth, look like pious lads chanting the Sáma-veda." Thus the Muni meditated whenever the deer was long absent from him; and contemplated him with a countenance animated with pleasure as he stood by his side. His abstraction was interrupted, the spirit of the king being engrossed by the fawn, even though he had abandoned family, wealth, and dominion. The firmness of the prince's mind became unsteady, and wandered with the wanderings of the young deer. In the course of time the king became subject to its influence. He died, watched by the deer, with tears in its eyes, like a son mourning for his father; and he himself, as he expired, cast his eyes upon the animal, and thought of nothing else, being wholly occupied with one idea.

Whilst the deer was thus the inmate of his hermitage, the mind of the king was ever anxious about the animal, now wandering away, and now returning to his side, and he was unable to think of anything else. He had relinquished his kingdom, his children, all his friends, and now indulged in selfish affection for a fawn. When absent for a longer time than ordinary, he would fancy that it had been carried off by wolves, devoured by a tiger, or slain by a lion. "The earth," he would exclaim, "is embrowned by the impressions of its hoofs. What has become of the young deer, that was born for my delight? How happy I should be if he had returned from the thicket, and I felt his budding antlers rubbing against my arm. These tufts of sacred grass, of which the heads have been nibbled by his new teeth, look like pious lads chanting the Sáma-veda." Thus the Muni meditated whenever the deer was long absent from him; and contemplated him with a countenance animated with pleasure as he stood by his side. His abstraction was interrupted, the spirit of the king being engrossed by the fawn, even though he had abandoned family, wealth, and dominion. The firmness of the prince's mind became unsteady, and wandered with the wanderings of the young deer. In the course of time the king became subject to its influence. He died, watched by the deer, with tears in its eyes, like a son mourning for his father; and he himself, as he expired, cast his eyes upon the animal, and thought of nothing else, being wholly occupied with one idea.

Whilst the deer was thus the inmate of his hermitage, the mind of the king was ever anxious about the animal, now wandering away, and now returning to his side, and he was unable to think of anything else. He had relinquished his kingdom, his children, all his friends, and now indulged in selfish affection for a fawn. When absent for a longer time than ordinary, he would fancy that it had been carried off by wolves, devoured by a tiger, or slain by a lion. "The earth," he would exclaim, "is embrowned by the impressions of its hoofs. What has become of the young deer, that was born for my delight? How happy I should be if he had returned from the thicket, and I felt his budding antlers rubbing against my arm. These tufts of sacred grass, of which the heads have been nibbled by his new teeth, look like pious lads chanting the Sáma-veda." Thus the Muni meditated whenever the deer was long absent from him; and contemplated him with a countenance animated with pleasure as he stood by his side. His abstraction was interrupted, the spirit of the king being engrossed by the fawn, even though he had abandoned family, wealth, and dominion. The firmness of the prince's mind became unsteady, and wandered with the wanderings of the young deer. In the course of time the king became subject to its influence. He died, watched by the deer, with tears in its eyes, like a son mourning for his father; and he himself, as he expired, cast his eyes upon the animal, and thought of nothing else, being wholly occupied with one idea.

Whilst the deer was thus the inmate of his hermitage, the mind of the king was ever anxious about the animal, now wandering away, and now returning to his side, and he was unable to think of anything else. He had relinquished his kingdom, his children, all his friends, and now indulged in selfish affection for a fawn. When absent for a longer time than ordinary, he would fancy that it had been carried off by wolves, devoured by a tiger, or slain by a lion. "The earth," he would exclaim, "is embrowned by the impressions of its hoofs. What has become of the young deer, that was born for my delight? How happy I should be if he had returned from the thicket, and I felt his budding antlers rubbing against my arm. These tufts of sacred grass, of which the heads have been nibbled by his new teeth, look like pious lads chanting the Sáma-veda." Thus the Muni meditated whenever the deer was long absent from him; and contemplated him with a countenance animated with pleasure as he stood by his side. His abstraction was interrupted, the spirit of the king being engrossed by the fawn, even though he had abandoned family, wealth, and dominion. The firmness of the prince's mind became unsteady, and wandered with the wanderings of the young deer. In the course of time the king became subject to its influence. He died, watched by the deer, with tears in its eyes, like a son mourning for his father; and he himself, as he expired, cast his eyes upon the animal, and thought of nothing else, being wholly occupied with one idea.

Whilst the deer was thus the inmate of his hermitage, the mind of the king was ever anxious about the animal, now wandering away, and now returning to his side, and he was unable to think of anything else. He had relinquished his kingdom, his children, all his friends, and now indulged in selfish affection for a fawn. When absent for a longer time than ordinary, he would fancy that it had been carried off by wolves, devoured by a tiger, or slain by a lion. "The earth," he would exclaim, "is embrowned by the impressions of its hoofs. What has become of the young deer, that was born for my delight? How happy I should be if he had returned from the thicket, and I felt his budding antlers rubbing against my arm. These tufts of sacred grass, of which the heads have been nibbled by his new teeth, look like pious lads chanting the Sáma-veda." Thus the Muni meditated whenever the deer was long absent from him; and contemplated him with a countenance animated with pleasure as he stood by his side. His abstraction was interrupted, the spirit of the king being engrossed by the fawn, even though he had abandoned family, wealth, and dominion. The firmness of the prince's mind became unsteady, and wandered with the wanderings of the young deer. In the course of time the king became subject to its influence. He died, watched by the deer, with tears in its eyes, like a son mourning for his father; and he himself, as he expired, cast his eyes upon the animal, and thought of nothing else, being wholly occupied with one idea.

Whilst the deer was thus the inmate of his hermitage, the mind of the king was ever anxious about the animal, now wandering away, and now returning to his side, and he was unable to think of anything else. He had relinquished his kingdom, his children, all his friends, and now indulged in selfish affection for a fawn. When absent for a longer time than ordinary, he would fancy that it had been carried off by wolves, devoured by a tiger, or slain by a lion. "The earth," he would exclaim, "is embrowned by the impressions of its hoofs. What has become of the young deer, that was born for my delight? How happy I should be if he had returned from the thicket, and I felt his budding antlers rubbing against my arm. These tufts of sacred grass, of which the heads have been nibbled by his new teeth, look like pious lads chanting the Sáma-veda." Thus the Muni meditated whenever the deer was long absent from him; and contemplated him with a countenance animated with pleasure as he stood by his side. His abstraction was interrupted, the spirit of the king being engrossed by the fawn, even though he had abandoned family, wealth, and dominion. The firmness of the prince's mind became unsteady, and wandered with the wanderings of the young deer. In the course of time the king became subject to its influence. He died, watched by the deer, with tears in its eyes, like a son mourning for his father; and he himself, as he expired, cast his eyes upon the animal, and thought of nothing else, being wholly occupied with one idea.

Whilst the deer was thus the inmate of his hermitage, the mind of the king was ever anxious about the animal, now wandering away, and now returning to his side, and he was unable to think of anything else. He had relinquished his kingdom, his children, all his friends, and now indulged in selfish affection for a fawn. When absent for a longer time than ordinary, he would fancy that it had been carried off by wolves, devoured by a tiger, or slain by a lion. "The earth," he would exclaim, "is embrowned by the impressions of its hoofs. What has become of the young deer, that was born for my delight? How happy I should be if he had returned from the thicket, and I felt his budding antlers rubbing against my arm. These tufts of sacred grass, of which the heads have been nibbled by his new teeth, look like pious lads chanting the Sáma-veda." Thus the Muni meditated whenever the deer was long absent from him; and contemplated him with a countenance animated with pleasure as he stood by his side. His abstraction was interrupted, the spirit of the king being engrossed by the fawn, even though he had abandoned family, wealth, and dominion. The firmness of the prince's mind became unsteady, and wandered with the wanderings of the young deer. In the course of time the king became subject to its influence. He died, watched by the deer, with tears in its eyes, like a son mourning for his father; and he himself, as he expired, cast his eyes upon the animal, and thought of nothing else, being wholly occupied with one idea.

In consequence of this predominant feeling at such a season, he was born again, in the Jambumárga forests, as a deer, with the faculty of recollecting his former life; which recollection inspiring a distaste for the world, he left his mother, and again repaired to the holy place Śálagráma. Subsisting there upon dry grass and leaves, he atoned for the acts which had led to his being born in such a condition; and upon his death he was next born as a Brahman, still retaining the memory of his prior existence. He was born in a pious and eminent family of ascetics, who were rigid observers of devotional rites. Possessed of all true wisdom, and acquainted with the essence of all sacred writings, he beheld soul as contradistinguished from matter (Prakriti). Embued with knowledge of self, he beheld the gods and all other beings as in reality the same. It did not happen to him to undergo investiture with the Brahmanical thread, nor to read the Vedas with a spiritual preceptor, nor to perform ceremonies, nor to study the scriptures. Whenever spoken to, he replied incoherently and in ungrammatical and unpolished speech. His person was unclean, and he was clad in dirty garments. Saliva dribbled from his mouth, and he was treated with contempt by all the people. Regard for the consideration of the world is fatal to the success of devotion. The ascetic who is despised of men attains the end of his abstractions. Let therefore a holy man pursue the path of the righteous, without murmuring; and though men contemn him, avoid association with mankind. This, the counsel of Hirańyagarbha, did the Brahman call to mind, and hence assumed the appearance of a crazy ideot in the eyes of the world. His food was raw pulse, potherbs, wild fruit, and grains of corn. Whatever came in his way he ate, as part of a necessary, but temporary infliction. Upon his father's death he was set to work in the fields by his brothers and his nephews, and fed by them with vile food; and as he was firm and stout of make, and a simpleton in outward act, he was the slave of every one that chose to employ him, receiving sustenance alone for his hire.

In consequence of this predominant feeling at such a season, he was born again, in the Jambumárga forests, as a deer, with the faculty of recollecting his former life; which recollection inspiring a distaste for the world, he left his mother, and again repaired to the holy place Śálagráma. Subsisting there upon dry grass and leaves, he atoned for the acts which had led to his being born in such a condition; and upon his death he was next born as a Brahman, still retaining the memory of his prior existence. He was born in a pious and eminent family of ascetics, who were rigid observers of devotional rites. Possessed of all true wisdom, and acquainted with the essence of all sacred writings, he beheld soul as contradistinguished from matter (Prakriti). Embued with knowledge of self, he beheld the gods and all other beings as in reality the same. It did not happen to him to undergo investiture with the Brahmanical thread, nor to read the Vedas with a spiritual preceptor, nor to perform ceremonies, nor to study the scriptures. Whenever spoken to, he replied incoherently and in ungrammatical and unpolished speech. His person was unclean, and he was clad in dirty garments. Saliva dribbled from his mouth, and he was treated with contempt by all the people. Regard for the consideration of the world is fatal to the success of devotion. The ascetic who is despised of men attains the end of his abstractions. Let therefore a holy man pursue the path of the righteous, without murmuring; and though men contemn him, avoid association with mankind. This, the counsel of Hirańyagarbha, did the Brahman call to mind, and hence assumed the appearance of a crazy ideot in the eyes of the world. His food was raw pulse, potherbs, wild fruit, and grains of corn. Whatever came in his way he ate, as part of a necessary, but temporary infliction. Upon his father's death he was set to work in the fields by his brothers and his nephews, and fed by them with vile food; and as he was firm and stout of make, and a simpleton in outward act, he was the slave of every one that chose to employ him, receiving sustenance alone for his hire.

In consequence of this predominant feeling at such a season, he was born again, in the Jambumárga forests, as a deer, with the faculty of recollecting his former life; which recollection inspiring a distaste for the world, he left his mother, and again repaired to the holy place Śálagráma. Subsisting there upon dry grass and leaves, he atoned for the acts which had led to his being born in such a condition; and upon his death he was next born as a Brahman, still retaining the memory of his prior existence. He was born in a pious and eminent family of ascetics, who were rigid observers of devotional rites. Possessed of all true wisdom, and acquainted with the essence of all sacred writings, he beheld soul as contradistinguished from matter (Prakriti). Embued with knowledge of self, he beheld the gods and all other beings as in reality the same. It did not happen to him to undergo investiture with the Brahmanical thread, nor to read the Vedas with a spiritual preceptor, nor to perform ceremonies, nor to study the scriptures. Whenever spoken to, he replied incoherently and in ungrammatical and unpolished speech. His person was unclean, and he was clad in dirty garments. Saliva dribbled from his mouth, and he was treated with contempt by all the people. Regard for the consideration of the world is fatal to the success of devotion. The ascetic who is despised of men attains the end of his abstractions. Let therefore a holy man pursue the path of the righteous, without murmuring; and though men contemn him, avoid association with mankind. This, the counsel of Hirańyagarbha, did the Brahman call to mind, and hence assumed the appearance of a crazy ideot in the eyes of the world. His food was raw pulse, potherbs, wild fruit, and grains of corn. Whatever came in his way he ate, as part of a necessary, but temporary infliction. Upon his father's death he was set to work in the fields by his brothers and his nephews, and fed by them with vile food; and as he was firm and stout of make, and a simpleton in outward act, he was the slave of every one that chose to employ him, receiving sustenance alone for his hire.

In consequence of this predominant feeling at such a season, he was born again, in the Jambumárga forests, as a deer, with the faculty of recollecting his former life; which recollection inspiring a distaste for the world, he left his mother, and again repaired to the holy place Śálagráma. Subsisting there upon dry grass and leaves, he atoned for the acts which had led to his being born in such a condition; and upon his death he was next born as a Brahman, still retaining the memory of his prior existence. He was born in a pious and eminent family of ascetics, who were rigid observers of devotional rites. Possessed of all true wisdom, and acquainted with the essence of all sacred writings, he beheld soul as contradistinguished from matter (Prakriti). Embued with knowledge of self, he beheld the gods and all other beings as in reality the same. It did not happen to him to undergo investiture with the Brahmanical thread, nor to read the Vedas with a spiritual preceptor, nor to perform ceremonies, nor to study the scriptures. Whenever spoken to, he replied incoherently and in ungrammatical and unpolished speech. His person was unclean, and he was clad in dirty garments. Saliva dribbled from his mouth, and he was treated with contempt by all the people. Regard for the consideration of the world is fatal to the success of devotion. The ascetic who is despised of men attains the end of his abstractions. Let therefore a holy man pursue the path of the righteous, without murmuring; and though men contemn him, avoid association with mankind. This, the counsel of Hirańyagarbha, did the Brahman call to mind, and hence assumed the appearance of a crazy ideot in the eyes of the world. His food was raw pulse, potherbs, wild fruit, and grains of corn. Whatever came in his way he ate, as part of a necessary, but temporary infliction. Upon his father's death he was set to work in the fields by his brothers and his nephews, and fed by them with vile food; and as he was firm and stout of make, and a simpleton in outward act, he was the slave of every one that chose to employ him, receiving sustenance alone for his hire.

In consequence of this predominant feeling at such a season, he was born again, in the Jambumárga forests, as a deer, with the faculty of recollecting his former life; which recollection inspiring a distaste for the world, he left his mother, and again repaired to the holy place Śálagráma. Subsisting there upon dry grass and leaves, he atoned for the acts which had led to his being born in such a condition; and upon his death he was next born as a Brahman, still retaining the memory of his prior existence. He was born in a pious and eminent family of ascetics, who were rigid observers of devotional rites. Possessed of all true wisdom, and acquainted with the essence of all sacred writings, he beheld soul as contradistinguished from matter (Prakriti). Embued with knowledge of self, he beheld the gods and all other beings as in reality the same. It did not happen to him to undergo investiture with the Brahmanical thread, nor to read the Vedas with a spiritual preceptor, nor to perform ceremonies, nor to study the scriptures. Whenever spoken to, he replied incoherently and in ungrammatical and unpolished speech. His person was unclean, and he was clad in dirty garments. Saliva dribbled from his mouth, and he was treated with contempt by all the people. Regard for the consideration of the world is fatal to the success of devotion. The ascetic who is despised of men attains the end of his abstractions. Let therefore a holy man pursue the path of the righteous, without murmuring; and though men contemn him, avoid association with mankind. This, the counsel of Hirańyagarbha, did the Brahman call to mind, and hence assumed the appearance of a crazy ideot in the eyes of the world. His food was raw pulse, potherbs, wild fruit, and grains of corn. Whatever came in his way he ate, as part of a necessary, but temporary infliction. Upon his father's death he was set to work in the fields by his brothers and his nephews, and fed by them with vile food; and as he was firm and stout of make, and a simpleton in outward act, he was the slave of every one that chose to employ him, receiving sustenance alone for his hire.