101. The more you scratch the ringworm, the greater grows the itching, and the more pleasure do you find in scratching. Similarly, the devotees once beginning to sing His praises, never get tired of it, but continue for hours and hours together.
102. When grains are measured out to the purchaser in
the granary of a rich merchant, the measurer unceasingly goes on measuring, while the attending women supply him with basket-fulls of grain from the main store. The measurer does not leave his seat, while the women incessantly supply him with grain. But a small grocer has neither such attendants, nor is his store so inexhaustible. Similarly, it is God Himself who is constantly inspiring thoughts and sentiments in the hearts of His devotees, and that is the reason why the latter are never in lack of new and wise thoughts and sentiments; while, on the other hand, the book-learned, like petty grocers, soon find that their thoughts have become exhausted.
103. A born farmer does not leave off tilling the soil, though it may not rain for twelve consecutive years, while a merchant who has but lately taken himself to the plough is discouraged by one season of drought. The true believer is never discouraged, if even with his lifelong devotion he fails to see God.
104. A true devotee who has drunk deep of the Divine Love is like a veritable drunkard, and, as such, cannot always observe the rules of propriety.
105. Dala (sedge) does not grow in large and pure water-tanks, but in small stagnant and miasmatic pools. Similarly, Dala (schism) does not take place in a party whose adherents are guided by pure, broad, and unselfish motives, but it takes firm root in a party whose advocates are given to selfishness, insincerity, and bigotry. ('Dala,' in Bengâli, means both sedges and schism.)
106. The Yogins and Samyâsins are like snakes. The snake never digs a hole for itself, but it lives in the hole made by the mouse. When one hole becomes uninhabitable, it enters into another hole. So the Yogins and the Samyâsins make no houses for themselves; they pass their days in other men's houses--to-day in one house, to-morrow in another.
107. The sage alone can recognise a sage. He who deals in cotton twists can alone tell of what number and quality a particular twist is made.
108. A sage was lying in a deep trance (Samâdhi) by a roadside; a thief passing by, saw him, and thought within himself, This fellow, lying here, is a thief. He has been breaking into some house by night, and now sleeps exhausted. The police will very soon be here to catch him. So let me escape in time.' Thus thinking, he ran away. Soon after a drunkard came upon the sage, and said, Hallo! thou hast fallen into the ditch by taking a drop too much. I am steadier than thou, and am not going to tumble.' Last of all came a sage, and understanding that a great sage was in a trance (Samâdhi), he sat down, and touched him, and began to rub gently his holy feet.
109. An itinerant Sâdhu came once upon the Kâlî temple of Râni Râsamani, and seeing a dog eating the remains of a feast, he went up to him and said, embracing him, 'Brother, how is it that thou eatest alone, without giving me a share?' So saying, he began to eat along with the dog. The people of the place naturally thought him mad, but when standing before the temple of the Goddess, he began to chant forth some hymns in praise of Kâlî, and the temple appeared to shake through the fervour of his devotion. Then the people knew him to be a great Sâdhu. The true Sâdhus roam about like children or mad men, in dirty clothes, and various other disguises.
110. The true religious man is he who does not do anything wrong or act impiously when he is alone, i.e. when there is none to look after and blame him.
111. In the Bengâli alphabet no three letters are alike in sound except the three sibilants (Sa, sha, and sa), all meaning 'forbear,' 'forbear,' 'forbear.' This shows that even from our childhood we are made to learn forbearance in our very alphabets. The quality of forbearance is of the highest importance to every man.
112. Sugar and sand may be mixed together, but the ant rejects the sand and goes off with the sugar-grain; so pious men sift the good from the bad.
113. It is the nature of the winnowing basket to reject the bad and keep the good; even such is the case with pious men.
114. He is truly a pious man who is dead even in life, i.e. whose passions and desires have been all destroyed as in a dead body.
115. Worldly persons perform many pious and charitable acts with a hope of worldly rewards, but when misfortune, sorrow, and poverty approach them, they forget them all.
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They are like the parrot that repeats the Divine name 'Râdhâ-Krishna, Râdhâ-Krishna' the livelong day, but cries 'Kaw, Kaw' when caught by a cat, forgetting the Divine name.
116. A spring cushion is squeezed down when one sits upon it, but it soon resumes its original shape when the pressure is removed. So it is with worldly men. They are full of religious sentiments, so long as they hear religious talks; but no sooner do they enter into the daily routine of the world, than they forget all those high and noble thoughts, and become as impure as before.
117. So long as the iron is in the furnace it is red-hot, but it becomes black as soon as it is taken out of the fire. So also is the worldly man. As long as he is in church or in the society of pious people, he is full of religious emotions, but no sooner does he come out of those associations than he loses them all.
118. Some one said, 'When my boy Harish grows up, I will get him married, and give him the charge of the family; I shall then renounce the world, and begin to practise Yoga.' At this a Sâdhu remarked, 'You will never find any opportunity of practising Yoga (devotion). You will say afterwards, "Harish and Girish are too much attached to me. They do not like to leave my company as yet." Then you will desire perhaps, "Let Harish have a son, and let me see that son married." And thus there will be no end of your desires.'
119. Flies sit at times on the sweetmeats kept exposed for sale in the shop of a confectioner; but no sooner does a sweeper pass by with a basket full of filth than the flies leave the sweetmeats and sit upon the filth-basket. But the honey-bee never sits on filthy objects, and always drinks honey from the flowers. The worldly men are like flies. At times they get a momentary taste of Divine sweetness, but their natural tendency for filth soon brings them back to the dunghill of the world. The good man, on the other hand, is always absorbed in the beatific contemplation of Divine Beauty.
N.B. The worldly man is like a filthy worm that always lives and dies in filth, and has no idea of higher things; the good man of the world is like the fly that sits now on the filth and now on the sweet; while the free soul of a Yogin is like the bee that always drinks the honey of God's holy presence, and nothing else.
120. When it was argued that a family-man (Grihastha) may remain in the family, but may have no concern with it, and consequently may remain uncontaminated by the world, an illustration was cited to refute such an argument, which is as follows:
A poor Brâhmana once came to one of those family-men, who are unconcerned with family affairs, to beg some money. When the beggar asked of him some money, he replied, 'Sir, I never touch money. Why are you wasting your time in begging of me?' The Brâhmana, however, would not go away. Tired with his importunate entreaties the man at last resolved in his mind to give him a rupee, and told him, 'Well, sir, come to-morrow, I shall see what I can do for you.' Then going in, this typical family-man told his wife, who was the manager of all his affairs, he being unconcerned, 'Look here, dear, a poor Brâhmana is in great difficulty, and wants something of me. I have made up my mind to give him a rupee. What is your opinion about it?' 'Aha! what a generous fellow you are!' she replied, in great excitement at the name of a rupee. 'Rupees are not, like leaves or stones, to be thrown away without any thought.' 'Well, dear,' replied the husband, in an apologising tone, 'the man is very poor and we should not give him less than a rupee.' 'No!' replied the wife, 'I cannot spare that much; here is a two-anna-bit and you can give him that, if you like.' The man of course had no other alternative, being himself unconcerned in all such worldly matters, and he took what his wife gave him. Next day the beggar came, and received only a two-anna-bit. Such uncontaminated family-men are really henpecked persons who are solely guided by their wives, and as such are very poor specimens of humanity.
121. Seeing the water pass glittering through the net of bamboo frame-work 1, the small fry enter into it with great pleasure, and having once entered they cannot get out again--and are caught. Similarly, foolish men enter into the world allured by its false glitter, but as it is easier to enter the net than to get out of it, it is easier to enter the world than renounce it, after having once entered it.
122. Men always quote the example of the king Ganaka, as that of a man who lived in the world and yet attained perfection. But throughout the whole history of mankind there is only this solitary example. His case was not the rule, but the exception. The general rule is that no one can attain spiritual perfection unless he renounces lust and greed. Do not think yourself to be a Ganaka. Many centuries have rolled away and the world has not produced another Ganaka.
123. This world is like a stage, where men perform many parts under various disguises. They do not like to take off the mask, unless they have played for some time. Let them play for a while, and then they will leave off the mask of their own accord.
124. The heart of the devotee is like a dry match; and the slightest mention of the name of the Deity kindles the fire of love in his heart. But the mind of the worldly, soaked in lust and greed, is like the moist match, and can never be heated to enthusiasm, though God may be preached to him innumerable times.
125. A worldly man may be endowed with intellect as great as that of Ganaka, may take as much pains and trouble as a Yogin, and make as great sacrifices as an ascetic; but all these he makes and does, not for God, but for worldliness, honour, and wealth.
126. As water does not enter into a stone, so religious advice produces no impression on the heart of a worldly man.
127. As a nail cannot enter into a stone, but can easily be driven into the earth, so the advice of the pious does not affect the soul of a worldly man. It enters into the heart of a believer.
128. As soft clay easily takes an impression, but not so a stone, so also the Divine Wisdom impresses itself on the heart of the devotee, but not on the soul of the worldly man.
129. The characteristic of a thoroughly worldly man is that he does not only not listen to hymns, religious discourses, praises of the Almighty, &c., but also prevents others from hearing them, and abuses religious men and societies, and scoffs at prayers.
130. The alligator has got such a thick and scaly hide that no weapons can pierce it; on the contrary, they fall off harmless. So, howmuchsoever you may preach religion to a worldly man, it will have no effect upon his heart.
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