The Vampire's Seventh Story. Showing the Exceeding Folly of Many Wise Fools.

　　The Baital resumed.

　　Of all the learned Brahmans in the learnedest university of Gaur （Bengal） none was so celebrated as Vishnu Swami. He could write verse as well as prose in dead languages， not very correctly， but still， better than all his fellows——which constituted him a distinguished writer. He had history， theosophy， and the four Vedas of Scriptures at his fingers' ends， he was skilled in the argute science of Nyasa or Disputation， his mind was a mine of Pauranic or cosmogonico-traditional lore， handed down from the ancient fathers to the modern fathers： and he had written bulky commentaries， exhausting all that tongue of man has to say， upon the obscure text of some old philosopher whose works upon ethics， poetry， and rhetoric were supposed by the sages of Gaur to contain the germs of everything knowable. His fame went over all the country； yea， from country to country. He was a sea of excellent qualities， the father and mother of Brahmans， cows， and women， and the horror of loose persons， cut-throats， courtiers， and courtesans. As a benefactor he was equal to Karna， most liberal of heroes. In regard to truth he was equal to the veracious king Yudhishtira.

　　True， he was sometimes at a loss to spell a common word in his mother tongue， and whilst he knew to a fingerbreadth how many palms and paces the sun， the moon， and all the stars are distant from the earth， he would have been puzzled to tell you where the region called Yavana[FN#119] lies. Whilst he could enumerate， in strict chronological succession， every important event that happened five or six million years before he was born， he was profoundly ignorant of those that occurred in his own day. And once he asked a friend seriously， if a cat let loose in the jungle would not in time become a tiger.

　　[FN#119] The land of Greece.

　　Yet did all the members of alma mater Kasi， Pandits[FN#120] as well as students， look with awe upon Vishnu Swami's livid cheeks， and lack-lustre eyes， grimed hands and soiled cottons.

　　[FN#120] Savans， professors. So in the old saying， "Hanta， Pandit Sansara "——Alas！ the world is learned！ This a little antedates the well-known schoolmaster.

　　Now it so happened that this wise and pious Brahmanic peer had four sons， whom he brought up in the strictest and most serious way. They were taught to repeat their prayers long before they understood a word of them， and when they reached the age of four[FN#121] they had read a variety of hymns and spiritual songs. Then they were set to learn by heart precepts that inculcate sacred duties， and arguments relating to theology， abstract and concrete.

　　[FN#121] Children are commonly sent to school at the age of five. Girls are not taught to read， under the common idea that they will become widows if they do.

　　Their father， who was also their tutor， sedulously cultivated， as all the best works upon education advise， their implicit obedience， humble respect， warm attachment， and the virtues and sentiments generally. He praised them secretly and reprehended them openly， to exercise their humility. He derided their looks， and dressed them coarsely， to preserve them from vanity and conceit. Whenever they anticipated a "treat，" he punctually disappointed them， to teach them self-denial. Often when he had promised them a present， he would revoke， not break his word， in order that discipline might have a name and habitat in his household. And knowing by experience how much stronger than love is fear， he frequently threatened， browbeat， and overawed them with the rod and the tongue， with the terrors of this world， and with the horrors of the next， that they might be kept in the right way by dread of falling into the bottomless pits that bound it on both sides.

　　At the age of six they were transferred to the Chatushpati[FN#122] or school. Every morning the teacher and his pupils assembled in the hut where the different classes were called up by turns. They laboured till noon， and were allowed only two hours， a moiety of the usual time， for bathing， eating， sleep， and worship， which took up half the period. At 3 P.M. they resumed their labours， repeating to the tutor what they had learned by heart， and listening to the meaning of it： this lasted till twilight. They then worshipped， ate and drank for an hour： after which came a return of study， repeating the day's lessons， till 10 P.M.