The Story of Prahlad

There is a strange old Hindu notion, according to which a very young child is said to be like a fish. Then comes a time when all the baby's eagerness is for food, and his little arms and legs and head are like so many small appendages, almost always kicking. This stage of development suggests the tortoise. Next the baby creeps on all-fours, How like a boar! Then it begins to leap upwards and fall down—half-man, half-lion. After this it becomes a dwarf or little man. At last comes the age of the heroes, Rama and Krishna, who make it possible to be a Buddha. Altogether, Hindus count ten of these degrees, or steps, and call them the ten incarnations of the God Vishnu. Gradually each stage has come to have its own wonder-tale attached to it, and perhaps the story of Prahlad is simply the legend that grew up about the idea of a Man-Lion.

Hiranyakasipu was the king of the Daityas, or demons. Now these demons are the cousins of the Devas or gods, and the two parties are always at war with each other. The gods rule the three worlds,—their own, the upper; the middle, where men dwell; and the nether, or abode of the demons. But occasionally the demons gain control, seizing the thrones of the gods and usurping their power.. Then the gods have to go to Vishnu the Preserver, and pray to Him to help them out of the difficulty, and sometimes He does it in a very curious way.

In such an epoch, Hiranyakasipu lived and was king. He defeated all the gods, and seated himself on the throne of the three worlds, declar-ing that nowhere in the universe was there any god but himself, and that both demons and men must worship him alone. Then, in fear of a coming catastrophe, the gods themselves began to walk the earth in the form of men; and, doubtless, they appealed also to the Lord Vishnu, imploring His aid. In any case, soon after the king's victory, a little son was born to him, in the city of Moultan in the Punjab, and he named him Prahlad.

Curiously enough, with such a father, the little Prahlad proved a very religious child. He seemed to have inborn ideas about worship and about the gods. And his father, who had determined to drive the thought of the deities out of the world, was very much troubled about him. At last he made up his mind to put him into the hands of a very stern teacher, with strict orders that he was never to be allowed to worship any one but his own father. The teacher, to have him better under his control, took the prince to his own home. It was all to no purpose. When they taught him his alphabet, showing him the letter K, “Yes, that is for Krishna,” the child would reply, and learn it eagerly. G,—“For Gopala,” said Prahlad, and everything that they could teach him, he applied at once in this way. Not only did he himself talk of nothing but Krishna; he spent much of his time also in teaching his worship to the boys around him. This was too much. After struggling in vain to reform his pupil, the distressed schoolmaster felt that he must appeal to Hiranyakasipu, or the mischief would soon spread too far to be set right. The King's anger was great, and he sent for his son. “I hear that you have been worshipping Krishna!” he thundered, when the little boy, who had been brought away from his books, stood before the throne. “Yes, father!” said Prahlad bravely, “I have.” “Are you going to promise me that you will never do it again?” asked the King, and he looked very terrible, while the royal jewel in his turban shook with rage.

“No, father, I cannot promise,” said poor little Prahlad.

“You cannot promise!” shouted his father, in amazement at his daring. “But I can have you killed!” “Not unless it is the will of Krishna!” said the child firmly.

“We'll see about that,” said Hiranyakasipu. And he ordered his guards to take Prahlad and throw him, though he was his own son, down to the bottom of the ocean, and there pile up rocks on top of him.

He hoped up to the last minute that the little one would be frightened, and run back to give the promise he required. But Prahlad did not come.

The fact was, he was worshipping Krishna in his own heart with such a feeling of love and happiness, that he had scarcely heard his father's words, and did not even notice when they put him on a stone slab, and piled huge blocks up on top of him, and threw the whole great mass out into the ocean.

He never noticed! He had forgotten all about himself. That was the secret of it. But no rocks could keep down one who forgot himself like this. So everything fell aside, and he rose again to the surface of the water. Then Prahlad remembered, and at once he found himself kneeling on the shore, face to face with the Lord Krishna Himself. The Lotus-Eyed smiled gently. Light seemed to be streaming out round Him in all directions. And He put His hand on Prahlad's head to bless Him, saying, “My child, ask of Me what thou wilt!” “O Lord!” said Prahlad, “I don't want long life, or riches, or anything like that! But do give me a love of God that shall never change in my heart, however much other things may come and go around me; that in the midst of this changeful world I may cherish unchanging love, for Thee, O Thou Unchangeable! This alone is my whole wish!” “Prahlad,” said the Lord Krishna solemnly, “you shall be always My soldier and My lover.”

Then everything that was beautiful disappeared, for the King's guards had found Prahlad again, and were carrying him once more into his father's presence.

“Who brought you out of the sea?” said the King, scarcely believing his own eyes.

“Krishna,” said the child.

“What name dared you to utter?” said his father, growing purple with fury.

“Krishna's,” replied Prahlad.

“Where is this Krishna of yours?” asked Hiranyakasipu.

Prahlad's eyes opened wide in wonder. “Why,” he said, “He is everywhere!” “Even in this pillar?” said the king mockingly. “Yes, even in that pillar!” answered his little son.

The King uttered a loud jarring laugh. “Let Him appear to me, then,” he cried, “in whatever form and deed best please Him!” Terrible words! and wonderful prayer of Hiranyakasipu! Great beyond that of common men must have been his power, for at this demand, ringing out into the ears of the Lord Himself, the pillar cracked from side to side, and out sprang One, half like a man and half like a lion, who leapt upon him and tore him into pieces!

So the demons were driven out, and the devas took their own places once more. But some say that the soul of Hiranyakasipu was glad of this release. And these hold that he was the same who in some former birth had been Ravana, King of Lanka, and who yet again was to come into the world as Shishupal.