"Single is each man born; single he dies; single he receives the reward of his good, and single the punishment of his evil, deeds."

"When he leaves his corpse, like a log or a lump of clay, on the ground, his kindred retire with averted faces; but his virtue accompanies his soul."

'Continually, therefore, by degrees, let him collect virtue, for the sake of securing an inseparable companion; since, with virtue for his guide, he will traverse a gloom how hard to be traversed!"

"Alone, in some solitary place, let him constantly meditate on the divine nature of the soul; for, by such meditation, he will attain happiness."

"When the father of a family perceives his muscles become flaccid, and his hair gray, and sees the child of his child, let him then seek refuge in a forest: "

"Then, having reposited his holy fires, as the law directs, in his mind, let him live without external fire, without a mansion, wholly silent, feeding on roots and fruit;" "Not solicitous for the means of gratification, chaste as a student, sleeping on the bare earth, in the haunts of pious hermits, without one selfish affection, dwelling at the roots of trees;

"—for the purpose of uniting his soul with the divine spirit."

"Or, if he has any incurable disease, let him advance in a straight path, towards the invincible north-eastern point, feeding on water and air, till his mortal frame totally decay, and his soul become united with the Supreme."

"A Brahmin having shuffled off his body by any of those modes, which great sages practised; and becoming void of sorrow and fear, rises to exaltation in the divine essence."

"Departing from his house, taking with him pure implements, his waterpot and staff, keeping silence, unallured by desire of the objects near him, let him enter into the fourth order."

"Alone let him constantly dwell, for the sake of his own felicity; observing the happiness of a solitary man, who neither forsakes nor is forsaken, let him live without a companion."

"Let him have no culinary fire, no domicil: let him,

when very hungry, go to the town for food; let him patiently bear disease; let his mind be firm: let him study to know God, and fix his attention on God alone."

"An earthern water-pot, the roots of large trees, coarse vesture, total solitude, equanimity toward all creatures, these are the characteristics of a Brahmin set free."

"Let him not wish for death; let him not wish for life; let him expect his appointed time, as a hired servant expects his wages."

Entirely withdrawn from the world," without any companion but his own soul, let him live in this world, seeking the bliss of the next."

"Late in the day let the Sannyasi beg food: for missing it, let him not be sorrowful; nor for gaining it let him be glad; let him care only for a sufficiency to support life, but let him not be anxious about his utensils."

"Let him reflect also, with exclusive application of mind, on the subtil, indivisible essence of the supreme spirit, and its complete existence in all beings, whether extremely high, or extremely low."

"Thus, having gradually abandoned all earthly attachments, and indifference to all pains of opposite things, as honor, and dishonor, and the like, he remains absorbed in the divine essence.

"A mansion with bones for its rafters and beams; with nerves and tendons for cords; with muscles and blood for mortar; with skin for its outward covering, filled with no sweet perfume, but loaded with fæces and urine;"

"A mansion infested by age and by sorrow; the seat of malady, harassed with pains, haunted with the quality of darkness, and incapable of standing long; such a mansion of the vital soul, let its occupier always cheerfully quit."

"As a tree leaves the bank of a river, when it falls in, or as a bird leaves the branch of a tree at his pleasure, thus he, who leaves his body by necessity, or by legal choice, is delivered from the ravening shark, or crocodile, of the world."

GOD.

"Let every Brahmin with fixed attention consider all nature, both visible and invisible, as existing in the divine spirit; for, when he contemplates the boundless universe

existing in the divine spirit, he cannot give his heart to iniquity:"

"The divine spirit is the whole assemblage of gods; all worlds are seated in the divine spirit; and the divine spirit, no doubt, produces the connected series of acts performed by embodied souls."

"He may contemplate the subtil ether in the cavities of his body; the air in his muscular motion and sensitive nerves; the supreme solar and igneous light, in his digestive heat and his visual organs; in his corporeal fluids, water; in the terrene parts of his fabric, earth ;"

"In his heart, the moon; in his auditory nerves, the guardians of eight regions; in his progressive motion, Vishnu; in his muscular force, Hara; in his organs of speech, Agni; in excretion, Mitra; in procreation, Brahma :"

"But he must consider the supreme omnipresent intelligence as the sovereign lord of them all; a spirit which can only be conceived by a mind slumbering; but which he may imagine more subtil than the finest conceivable essence, and more bright than the purest gold."

"Him some adore as transcendentally present in elementary fire; others in Menu, lord of creatures; some, as more distinctly present in Indra, regent of the clouds and the atmosphere; others, in pure air; others, as the most High Eternal Spirit."

"Thus the man, who perceives in his own soul the supreme soul present in all creatures, acquires equanimity towards them all, and shall be absorbed at last in the highest essence, even that of the Almighty himself."

DEVOTION.

"All the bliss of deities and of men is declared by sages who discern the sense of the Veda to have in devotion its cause, in devotion its continuance, in devotion its ful

ness.'

"Devotion is equal to the performance of all duties; it is divine knowledge in a Brahmin; it is defence of the people in a Cshatriya; devotion is the business of trade and agriculture in a Vaisya; devotion is dutiful service in a Sudra."

"Perfect health, or unfailing medicine, divine learning,

and the various mansions of deities are acquired by devotion alone; their efficient cause is devotion."

"Whatever is hard to be traversed, whatever is hard to be acquired, whatever is hard to be visited, whatever is hard to be performed, all this may be accomplished by true devotion; for the difficulty of devotion is the greatest of

all."

DEATH.

BENEATH the endless surges of the deep,
Whose green content o'erlaps them evermore,
A host of mariners perpetual sleep,
Too hushed to heed the wild commotion's roar;
The emerald weeds glide softly o'er their bones,
And wash them gently mid the rounded stones.
No epitaph have they to tell their tale,
Their birthplace, age, and story, all are lost,
Yet rest they deeply, as within the vale

Those sheltered bodies by the smooth slates crossed,
And countless tribes of men lie on the hills,
And human blood runs in the crystal rills.

The air is full of men, who once enjoyed
The healthy element, nor looked beyond,—
Many, who all their mortal strength employed
In human kindness, of their brothers fond, -
And many more, who counteracted fate,
And battled in the strife of common hate.
Profoundest sleep enwraps them all around,
Sages and sire, the child and manhood strong,
Shed not one tear, expend no sorrowing sound,
Tune thy clear voice to no funereal song,
For, oh! Death stands to welcome thee and me,
And life hath in its breath a steeper mystery.

I hear a bell, that tolls an empty note,

The mourning anthem, and the sobbing prayer;
A grave fresh-opened, where the friends devote
To mouldering darkness a still corse, once fair
And beautiful as morning's silver light,

And stars which throw their clear fire on the night.
She is not here, who smiled within these eyes,
Warmer than spring's first sunbeam through the pale
And tearful air, resist these flatteries;

O, lay her silently alone, and in this vale

Shall the sweet winds sing better dirge for her,
And the fine, early flowers her death-clothes minister.

O, Death! thou art the palace of our hopes,
The storehouse of our joys, great labor's end;
Thou art the bronzéd key, which swiftly opes
The coffers of the past; and thou shalt send
Such trophies to our hearts, as sunny days,
When life upon its golden harp-string plays.
And when a nation mourns a silent voice,
That long entranced its ear with melody,
How thou must in thy inmost soul rejoice,
To wrap such treasure in thy boundless sea!
And thou wert dignified, if but one soul
Had been enfolded in thy twilight stole.

Triumphal arches circle o'er thy deep,
Dazzling with jewels, radiant with content;
In thy vast arms the sons of genius sleep,
The carvings of thy spheral monument,
Bearing no recollection of dim time,
Within thy green and most perennial prime.
And might I sound a thought of thy decree,
How lapsed the dreary earth in fragrant pleasure,
And hummed along o'er life's contracted sea,
Like the swift petrel, mimicking the waves' measure;
But though I long, the sounds will never come,
For, in thy majesty, my lesser voice is dumb.