[paragraph continues] O god of gods!" they exclaimed; "thou art the sovereign of all; thou art light supreme, inscrutable; thou art the mighty lord, the portion of that supreme light. The gods themselves are unable worthily to praise thee, the lord self-existent: how then shall females proclaim thy nature? How shall we fully declare him of whom the egg of Brahmá, made up of earth, sky, water, fire, and air, is but a small portion of a part? Holy sages have in vain sought to know thy eternal essence. We bow to that form which is the most subtile of atoms, the largest of the large; to him whose birth is without a creator, whose end knows no destroyer, and who alone is the cause of duration. There is no wrath in thee; for thine is the protection of the world; and hence this chastisement of Kálíya. Yet hear us. Women are to be regarded with pity by the virtuous: animals are humanely treated even by fools. Let therefore the author of wisdom have compassion upon this poor creature. Thyself, as an oviparous, hooded snake, art the upholder of the world. Oppressed by thee, he will speedily perish. What is this feeble serpent, compared to thee in whom the universe reposes? Friendship and enmity are felt towards equals and superiors, not for those infinitely beneath us. Then, sovereign of the world, have mercy upon us. This unfortunate snake is about to expire: give us, as a gift of charity, our husband."

When they had thus spoken, the Nága himself, almost exanimate, repeated feebly their solicitations for mercy. "Forgive me," the murmured, "O god of gods! How shall I address thee, who art possessed, through thine own strength and essence, of the eight great faculties, in energy unequalled? Thou art the supreme, the progenitor of the supreme (Brahmá): thou art the supreme spirit, and from thee the supreme proceeds: thou art beyond all finite objects; how can I speak thy praise? How can I declare his greatness, from whom cone Brahmá, Rudra, Chandra, Indra, the Maruts, the Aswins, the Vasus, and Ádityas; of whom the whole world is an infinitely small portion, a portion destined to represent his essence; and whose nature, primitive or derived, Brahmá and the immortals do not comprehend? How can I approach him, to whom the gods offer incense and flowers culled from the groves of Nandana; whose incarnate forms the king of the deities ever adores, unconscious of his real person; whom the sages, that have withdrawn