-that he--discarding outward form, clad in religious
garb, loving religious meditation, wandering through the wilds--should
now reject his hermit vestment, tread down his sense of proper shame and
give up his aim. This, though I gained heaven's kingly state, cannot be
done! how much less to gain an earthly, though distinguished, home!

"For having spewed forth lust, passion, and ignorance, shall I return to
feed upon it? as a man might go back to his vomit! such misery, how
could I bear? Like a man whose house has caught fire, by some expedient
finds a way to escape, will such a man forthwith go back and enter it
again? such conduct would disgrace a man! So I, beholding the evils,
birth, old age, and death, to escape the misery, have become a hermit;
shall I then go back and enter in, and like a fool dwell in their
company? He who enjoys a royal estate and yet seeks rescue, cannot dwell
thus, this is no place for him; escape is born from quietness and rest;
to be a king is to add distress and poison; to seek for rest and yet
aspire to royal condition are but contradictions; royalty and rescue,
motion and rest, like fire and water, having two principles, cannot be
united. So one resolved to seek escape cannot abide possessed of kingly
dignity! And if you say a man may be a king, and at the same time
prepare deliverance for himself, there is no certainty in this! to seek
certain escape is not to risk it thus; it is through this uncertain
frame of mind that once a man gone forth is led to go back home again;
but I, my mind is not uncertain; severing the baited hook of
relationship, with straightforward purpose, I have left my home. Then
tell me, why should I return again?"

The great minister, inwardly reflecting, thought, "The mind of the royal
prince, my master, is full of wisdom, and agreeable to virtue, what he
says is reasonable and fitly framed." Then he addressed the prince and
said: "According to what your highness states, he who seeks religion
must seek it rightly; but this is not the fitting time for you; your
royal father, old and of declining years, thinking of you his son, adds
grief to grief; you say indeed, 'I find my joy in rescue. To go back
would be apostasy.' But yet your joy denotes unwisdom, and argues want
of deep reflection; you do not see, because you seek the fruit, how vain
to give up present duty. There are some who say, There is 'hereafter';
others there are who say, 'Nothing hereafter.' So whil