slaughter of these would be highly sinful.  What good, therefore, can there be in battle?  Alas, such sinful practices are the duties of the Kshatriya order!  Ourselves have taken our births in that wretched order!  Whether those practices be sinful or virtuous, any other than the profession of arms would be censurable for us.  A Sudra serveth; a Vaisya liveth by trade; the Brahmana have choosen the wooden bowl (for begging), while we are to live by slaughter!  A Kshatriya, slayeth a Kshatriya; fishes live on fish; a dog preyeth upon a dog!  Behold, O thou of the Dasarha race, how each of these followeth his peculiar virtue.  O Krishna, Kali is ever present in battle-fields; lives are lost all around.  It is true, force regulated by policy is invoked; yet success and defeat are independent of the will of the combatants.  The lives also of creatures are independent of their own wishes, and neither weal nor woe can be one’s when the time is not come for it, O best of the Yadu’s race.  Sometimes one man killeth many, sometimes many and united together kill one.  A coward may slay a hero, and one unknown to fame may stay a hero of celebrity.  Both parties cannot win success, nor both be defeated.  The loss, however, on both sides may be equal.  If one flieth away, loss of both life and fame is his.  Under all circumstances, however, war is a sin.  Who in striking another is not himself struck?  As regard the person, however, who is struck, victory and defeat, O Hrishikesa, are the same.  It is true that defeat is not much removed from death, but his loss also, O Krishna, is not less who winneth victory.  He himself may not be killed, but his adversaries will kill at least some one that is dear to him, or some others and thus the man, O sire, deprived of strength and not seeing before him his sons and brothers, becometh indifferent, O Krishna, to life itself.  Those that are quiet, modest, virtuous, and compassionate, are generally slain in battle, while they that are wicked escape.  Even after slaying one’s foes, repentance, O Janardana, possesseth the heart.  He that surviveth among the foes giveth trouble, for the survivor, collecting a force, seeketh to destroy the surviving victor.  In hopes of terminating the dispute, one often seeketh to exterminate the foe.  Thus victory createth animosity, and he that is defeated liveth in sorrow.  He that is peaceful, sleepeth in happiness, giving up all thoughts of victory and defeat, whereas he that hath provoked hostility always sleepeth in misery, with, indeed, an anxious heart, as if sleeping with a snake in the same room.  He that exterminates seldom winneth fame.  On the other hand, such a person reapeth eternal infamy in the estimation of all.  Hostilities, waged over so long, cease not; for if there is even one alive in the enemy’s family, narrators are never wanted to remind him of the past.  Enmity, O Kesava, is never neutralised by enmity; on the other hand, it is fomented by enmity, like fire fed by clarified butter.  Therefore,