'"As the days thus passed on, the king, eager for the anointing of Candrapida as crown prince, (206) appointed chamberlains to gather together all things needful for it; and when it was at hand, Çukanasa, desirous of increasing the prince's modesty, great as it already was, spoke to him at length during one of his visits: 'Dear Candrapida, though thou hast learnt what is to be known, and read all the çastras, no little remains for thee to learn. For truly the darkness arising from youth is by nature very thick, nor can it be pierced by the sun, nor cleft by the radiance of jewels, nor dispelled by the brightness of lamps. The intoxication of Lakshmi is terrible, and does not cease even in old age. There is, too, another blindness of power, evil, not to be cured by any salve. The fever of pride runs very high, and no cooling appliances can allay it. The madness that rises from tasting the poison of the senses is violent, and not to be counteracted by roots or charms. The defilement of the stain of passion is never destroyed by bathing or purification. The sleep of the multitude of royal pleasures is ever terrible, and the end of night brings no waking. Thus thou must often be told at length. Lordship inherited even from birth, fresh youth, peerless beauty, superhuman talent, all this is a long succession of ills. (207) Each of these separately is a home of insolence; how much more the assemblage of them! For in early youth the mind often loses its purity, though it be cleansed with the pure waters of the çastras. The eyes of the young become inflamed, though their clearness is not quite lost. Nature, too, when the whirlwind of passion arises, carries a man far in youth at its own will, like a dry leaf borne on the wind. This mirage of pleasure, which captivates the senses as if they were deer, always ends in sorrow. When the mind has its consciousness dulled by early youth, the characteristics of the outer world fall on it like water, all the more sweetly for being but just tasted. Extreme clinging to the things of sense destroys a man, misleading him like ignorance of his bearings. But men such as thou art the fitting vessels for instruction. For on a mind free from stain the virtue of good counsel enters easily, as the moon's rays on a moon crystal. The words of a guru, though pure, yet cause great pain when they enter the ears of the bad, as water does; (208) while in others they produce a nobler beauty, like the ear-jewel on an elephant. They remove the thick darkness of many sins, like the moon in the gloaming. [225] The teaching of a guru is calming, and brings to an end the faults of youth by turning them to virtue, just as old age takes away the dark stain of the locks by turning them to gray. This is the time to teach thee, while thou hast not yet tasted the pleasures of sense. For teaching pours away like water in a heart shattered by the stroke of love's arrow. Family and sacred tradition are unavailing to the froward and undisciplined. Does a fire not burn when fed on sandal-wood? Is not the submarine fire the fiercer in the water that is wont to quench fire? But the words of a guru are a bathing without water, able to cleanse all the stains of man; they are a maturity that changes not the locks to gray; they give weight without increase of bulk; though not wrought of gold, they are an ear-jewel of no common order; without light they shine; without startling they awaken. They are specially needed for kings, for the admonishers of kings are few. (209) For from fear, men follow like an echo the words of kings, and so, being unbridled in their pride, and having the cavity of their ears wholly stopped, they do not hear good advice even when offered; and when they do hear, by closing their eyes like an elephant, they show their contempt, and pain the teachers who offer them good counsel. For the nature of kings, being darkened by the madness of pride's fever, is perturbed; their wealth causes arrogance and false self-esteem; their royal glory causes the torpor brought about by the poison of kingly power. First, let one who strives after happiness look at Lakshmi. For this Lakshmi, who now rests like a bee on the lotus-grove of a circle of naked swords, has risen from the milk ocean, has taken her glow from the buds of the coral-tree, her crookedness from the moon's digit, her restlessness from the steed Uccaihçrava, her witchery from Kalakuta poison, her intoxication from nectar, and from the Kaustubha gem her hardness. (210) All these she has taken as keepsakes to relieve her longing with memory of her companions' friendship. There is nothing so little understood here in the world as this base Lakshmi.