Universal Indifference or Insouciance 1198
CHAPTER LIV.
QUIESCENCE OF UDDÁLAKA.
Argument. Uddálaka meditates on the form of Vishnu, and his
quietus in and coalescence with it.
Vasishtha continued:—Thinking himself to be raised to this state of
his transcendency, the saint sat in his posture of _padmásana_ with his
half shut eye-lids, and began to meditate in his translucent mind.
2. He then thought that the syllable _Om_, is the true emblem of
Brahma; and he rises to the highest state, who utters this monosyllabic
word.
3. Then he uttered the word with an elevated voice and high note, which
rang with a resonance like the ringing of a bell.
4. The utterance of his _Omkára_, shook the seat of his intellect in
the cranium; and reached to the seat of the pure soul, in the topmost
part of his head.
5. The _pranava_ or _Omkára_, consisting of three and half _matrás_
or instants, fills the whole body with the breath of inspiration; by
having its first part or the letter _a_, uttered with an acute accent
(Udátta).
6. He let out the _rechaka_ or the exhaling breath, whereby the
internal air was extracted from the whole body; and it became as empty
as the sea, after it was sucked up by Agastya.
7. His vital breath was filled with the sap of the intellect, and
rested in the outer air by leaving his body; as when a bird leaves its
snug nest; and then mounts to and floats in the open air.
8. The burning fire of his heart, burnt away his whole body; and left
it as dry as a forest, scorched by the hot wind of a conflagration.
9. As he was in this state at the first step of his practice of Yoga,
by the _pranava_ or utterance of this syllable _Om_; he did not attend
to the _hatha_ Yoga at all, on account of its arduousness at first.
10. He then attended to the other parts of the mystic syllable, and
remained unshaken by suppression of his breath by the _kumbhaka_
breathing.
11. His vital breaths were not suffered to pass out of his body, nor
were they allowed to circulate up and down in it; but were shut up in
the nostrils, like the water pent up in the drain.
12. The fire burning before burnt body, was blown out in a moment like
the flash of lightning; and he left his whole frame consumed to ashes,
and lying cold and grey on the naked ground.
13. Here the white bones of his body, seemed to be sleeping unmoved on
the naked shore; and lying in quiet rest on the bed of greyish ashes,
appearing as the powder of camphor strewn on the ground.
14. These ashes and bones were borne aloft by the winds, and were
heaped at last on his body; which looked like the person of Siva
besmeared with ashes, and wearing the string of bones about it.
15. Afterwards the high winds of the air, flying to the face of the
upper sky, bore aloft and scattered about those ashes and bones,
resembling an autumnal mist all about the air.
16. The saint attained to this state, in the second or middle stage of
his _pranava_ Yoga; and it was by his _kumbhaka_ breathing, and not by
_hatha yoga_ (which is difficult to practise), that he effected it.
17. He then came to the third stage, of his _pranava yoga_, by means of
the _púraka_ or inhaling breathing, which confers a quiet rest to the
Yogi, and is called _púraka_ for its fulfilment of his object.
18. In the process of this practice, the vital breath is carried
through the intellect to the region of vacuum; where it is cooled by
the coldness of its climate.
19. From the region of vacuum, the breathing ascended to that of the
lunar sphere; and there it became as cold as when the rising smoke,
turns to the watery cloud in the upper sky.
20. Then the breath rested in the orb of the full moon, as in the ocean
of ambrosial waters, and there became as cool, as in the meritorious
samádhi meditation.
21. The respiring breaths were then exhaled as cooling showers of rain;
and were brightened by the moon-beams to the form of fine wires of gold.
22. The same fell as a dew drop on the remaining ashes, as the stream
of the heavenly Gangá fell on the crest of Siva; and this resuscitated
the burnt body to its former form.
23. It then became as bright as the orb of the moon, and the body was
bedecked with the four arms of Vishnu. It glistened like the párijáta
tree on the sea shore, after it was churned out by the Mandara mountain.
24. The body of Uddálaka, stood confest as that of Náráyana to view;
and his bright eyes and lotus-like face, shone with a celestial light.
25. The vital breaths filled his body with a humid juice, as when
the lake is filled with sweet water, and the trees are supplied with
moisture by the breath of spring.
26. The internal airs filled the lungs, and the cavity of the heart; as
when the waters of the sea, run towards and roll into the whirlpool.
27. His body was afterwards restored to and regained its natural state;
as when the earth regains its prior and purer state, after it is washed
by the waters of rain.
28. He then sat in his posture of _padmásana_, and kept his body fixed
and firm in its straight and erect position. The five organs of his
sense, were bound as fast, as the feet of an elephant with strong
chains.
29. He strove to practise an unshaken hybernation (_samádhi_), and
wanted to make himself appear as translucent, as the clear autumnal sky
and air.
30. He restrained his breath (by means of his _pránáyáma_ or
contraction of breathing), and the fleet stag of his respiration
from its flight to all sides; and he restricted his heart from its
inclinations, and fixed it fast as by a rope to the post of his bosom.
31. He stopped his heart forcibly, from its running madly to the pits
of its affection; as they stop the course of over-flowing waters, by
means of embankments.
32. His eyes were half hid under his closing eye-lids, and his pupils
remained as fixed and unmoved, as the contracted petal of the lotus,
against the buzzing bees, fluttering about and seeking to suck their
honey.
33. He employed himself to _Rája Yoga_, at first, by remaining silent
with a graceful countenance.
34. He abstracted his senses from their objects, as they separate the
oil from the sesamum seeds; and he contracted the organs of sense
within himself, as the tortoise contracts his limbs under his hard
covering.
35. With his steady mind, he cast off the external sensations afar
from him; as a rich and brilliant gem, casts off its outer coating and
rubbish, and then scatters its rays to a distance.
36. He compressed his external sensations, without coming in contact
with them within himself; as the trees contract their juice in the cold
season within their rind.
37. He stopped the circulation of his respiration, to the nine openings
of his body, and their passing through the mouth and anus; and by means
of his _kumbhaka_ inspiration, he compressed the winds in the internal
cells of his body.
38. He held his neck erect like the peak of mount Meru, in order to
receive the light of the soul; which irradiated in the form of flowers,
before the vision of his mind.
39. He confined his subdued mind in the cavity of his heart, as they
imprison the big elephant in a cavern of the Vindhya mountain; when
they have brought him under their subjection by some artifice.
40. When his soul had gained its clearness, resembling the serenity of
the autumnal sky; it forsook its unsteadiness like the calm ocean, when
it is full and unagitated by the winds.
41. The mist of doubts, which sometimes gathered in his breast, and
obscured the light of his reason and truth; now fled from before him,
like a flight of gnats driven by the wind.
42. As yet the crowds of doubt, rose repeatedly in his breast, and of
their own accord; he dispersed them boldly by the sword of his reason,
as a hero drives the enemy before him.
43. Upon the dispersion of the thick mists of doubts, and all worldly
desires from his mind; he beheld the bright sun of reason rising in his
breast, from amidst the parting gloom of ignorance.
44. He dispelled this darkness, by the sun-beams of his full
intelligence; which rose in his mind as a blast of wind, and dispersed
the clouds of his doubts in the skies.
45. After dispersion of this darkness, he saw a beautiful collection of
light, shining upon him like the morning twilight, and alighting upon
his lotus bed, after dispersion of the shade of night. (This was his
_sáttwikabháva_ or state of purity).
46. But this clear light of his soul, was soon after removed by the
_raja_ or worldliness of his mind; which devoured it as the young
elephant feeds upon the red lotuses of the land (_sthala padma_), and
as _Vetála_ goblins lick up the drops of blood.
47. After the loss of this heavenly light, his mind turned flighty from
the giddiness of his passions (or _tama guna_); and he became as drowsy
as the sleeping lotuses at night, and as tipsy as a drunken sot over
his cups.
48. But his reason soon returned to him, and made him shake off his
sleepiness, as the winds disperse the clouds, and as the snake inhales
the air; and as the elephant devours the lotus bush, and the sunlight
dispels the darkness of night.
49. After removal of his drowsiness, his mind beheld the broad expanse
of the blue firmament, filled with fancied forms of animals, and
flights of peacocks and other birds.
50. When, as the rain water washes off the blackness of tamála leaves,
and as a gust of wind drives away the morning mist, and as the light of
a lamp disperses the darkness; so returned to him, his spiritual light,
and removed the blue vacuum, of his mind, by filling it with its benign
radiance.
51. The idea of an empty vacuity (vacuum), being replaced by that of
his self consciousness, his idea of the mind was also absorbed in it;
as the drunken frenzy of a man is drowned in his sleep.
52. His great soul, then rubbed out the impressions of error from his
vitiated mind; as the luminous sun drives from the world, the shades of
darkness which had overspread it at night.
53. In this manner his misty mind, being freed from its shades of light
and darkness, and from the dross of its drowziness and error; obtained
its rest in that state of _samádhi_ or trance, which no language can
describe.
54. In this state of calm and quiet repose, his limbs dropped down
as in the drowziness of sleep; and their powers were absorbed in the
channel of his self consciousness, as a flood recoils to its basin,
when it is bound by an embankment.
55. It was then by means of his constant inquiry, that he advanced to
the state of his intellectuality, from that of his consciousness of
himself; as the gold that is moulded to the form of a jewel, is reduced
afterwards to the pure metal only.
56. Then leaving his intellectuality, he thought himself as the
intellect of his intellect; and then became of another form and figure,
as when the clay is converted to a pot.
57. Then leaving his nature of a thinkable being (or objectivity), he
became the subjective thinking intellect itself; and next to that, as
identic with the pure universal intellect; just as the waves of the
sea, resolve their globules into the common air. (It is by the process
of generalization, that particulars are made to blend in one ultimate
universal).
58. Losing the sight of particulars, he saw the Great One as the
container of all; and then he became as one with the sole vacuous
intellect.
59. He found his felicity in this extra phenomenal state of the
noumenon; which like the ocean, is the reservoir of all moistures.
60. He passed out of the confines of his body and then went to a
certain spot, where leaving his ordinary form, he became as a sea of
joy (in the transport of his ecstacy).
61. His intellect swam over that sea of joy like a floating swan, and
remained there for many years with as serene a lustre, as the moon
shines in her fulness in the clear firmament.
62. It remained as still as a lamp in the breathless air, and as the
shadow of a picture in painting; it was as calm as the clear lake
without its waves, and as the sea after a storm, and as immovable as a
cloud after it has poured out its waters.
63. As Uddálaka had been sitting in this full blaze of light, he beheld
the aerial Siddhas and a group of gods (advancing towards him).
64. The groups of Siddhas, that were eager to confer the ranks of the
Sun and Indra upon him, assembled around him with groups of Gandharvas
and Apsaras, from all sides of heaven.
65. But the saint took no notice of them, nor gave them their due
honour; but remained in deep thought, and in the continuance of his
steady meditation.
66. Without paying any regard to the assemblage of the Siddhas, he
remained still in that blissful abode of his bliss; as the sun remains
in the solstices, or in the northern hemisphere for half of the year.
67. While he continued in the enjoyment of his blessed state of living
liberation, the gods Hari, Hara and Brahmá waited at his door, together
with bodies of Siddhas, Sádhyas and other deities beside them.
68. He now remained in his state of indifference, which lies between
the two opposites of sorrow and joy; and neither of which is of long
continuance, except the middle state of _insouciance_ which endureth
for ever.
69. When the mind is situated in its state of neutrality, and whether
it is for a moment or a thousand years; it has no more any relish for
pleasure, by seeing its future joys of the next world, as already begun
in this.
70. When holy men have gained that blissful state in this life, they
look no more on the outer world; but turn aside from it, as men avoid a
thorny bush of brambles (Lit., catechu plants).
71. The saints that attained to this state of transcendental bliss, do
not stoop to look upon the visible world; and as one who is seated in the
heavenly car of Chitraratha, never alights on the thorny bush of the
Khadira (catechumemosa).
72. They take no account of the visible world, who enjoy this felicity
of the invisible in them; as the self-sufficient rich man, takes into
no account the condition of the miserable poor.
73. The wise heart that has found its rest in that blissful state, does
either keep itself from the thoughts of this world, or shrink from it
with disgust and hatred.
74. Uddálaka thus remained in his holy seat for six months, after which
he awoke from his trance; and removed from there to another place, as
the sun gets out of the mists of frost in the vernal season.
75. He beheld before him, the assemblage of the bright beings of
enlightened minds; and who with their countenances shining as the
lightsome moon, hailed the hermit with high veneration.
76. They were fanned with _chouries_ flapping about them, like swarms
of bees besmeared with white powders of _mandára_ flowers; and sitting
on their heavenly cars, decorated with flags waving in the sky.
77. There were the great saints like ourselves sitting in them,
decorated with ringlets of the sacred grass in their fingers, and
accompanied by Vidyádharas and Gandharvas, with their damsels
ministering unto them.
78. They addressed the great-souled and saintly Uddálaka with
saying:—“Deign, O venerable sir, to look upon us, that have been
waiting here upon you with our greetings.”
79. “Vouchsafe to mount on one of these heavenly cars, and repair to
our celestial abode; because heaven is the last abode, where you shall
have the full gratification of your desires after this life.”
80. “There remain to enjoy your desired pleasures, until the end
of this kalpa age; because it is pure heavenly bliss which is the
inheritance of saints, and the main aim and object of ascetic
austerities on earth.”
81. “Behold here the damsels of Vidyádharas, are waiting for you with
fans and wreaths of flowers in their hands; and they have been hailing
and inviting you to them, as the young elephantess, entices the big
elephant towards her.”
82. “It is the desire of fruition only, which is the main object of
riches and meritorious acts; and the greatest of our enjoyments is the
company of fairy damsels; as the flowers and fruits are the desired
products of the vernal season.”
83. The hermit heard his heavenly guests, speaking in this manner; and
then honoured them as he ought, without being moved by aught they said
unto him.
84. He neither complemented them with his courtesy, nor changed the
tenor of his even and inexcitable mind; but bidding them depart in
peace, he betook himself to his wonted devotion.
85. The Siddhas honoured him for his devotedness to his pursuit, and
his abjuring the desire of carnal gratifications. They then departed to
their elysian abode from there, after tarrying there in vain for some
days, to entice the hermit to their Parnassian fields.
86. Afterwards the saint continued to wander about at pleasure, in his
character of a living liberated Yogi; and frequented the hermitages of
the ascetics, at the skirts of the woods and forests.
87. He roved about freely over the mountains of Meru, Mandara, and
Kaylása, and on the table lands of the Vindhyan and Himalayan ranges;
and then travelled through woods and forests, groves and deserts, to
distant islands on all sides.
88. At last the saintly Uddálaka chose his abode in a cavern, lying at
the foot of a mountain; and there dedicated the remainder of his life,
to devotion and meditation in his seclusion.
89. It was then in the course of a day, and then of a month, and
sometimes after the lapse of a year or years, that he rose once from
his meditation.
90. After his yoga was over, he came out and mixed with the world; and
though he was sometimes engaged in the affairs of life, yet he was
quite reserved in his conduct, and abstracted in his mind.
91. Being practiced to mental abstraction, he became one with the
divine mind; and shone resplendent in all places, like the broad day
light in view.
92. He was habituated to ponder on the community of the mind, till he
became one with the universal Mind; which spreads alike throughout the
universe, and neither rises nor sets any where like the solar light.
93. He gained the state of perfect tranquility, and his even
mindedness in all places, which released him from the snare of doubts,
and of the pain of repeated births and deaths. His mind became as clear
and quiet as the autumnal sky, and his body shone as the sun at every
place.
FORMULÆ OF THE PRANAVA YOGA.
1. Á Acute or Rechaka } 2. U. Grave or Kumbhake { 3. M. the Circumflex
yoga. } yoga. { or Puraka yoga.
CHAPTER LV.
TRANSCENDENTALISM OF UDDÁLAKA.
Argument. Meditation on the Universality of the soul and
Intellect.
Ráma said:—Venerable Sir! you are the sun of the day of spiritual
knowledge, and the burning fire of the night of my doubts; and you who
are the cooling moon to the heat of my ignorance, will deign to explain
to me, what is meant by—community of existence, (that you said just
now).
2. Vasishtha answered:—When the thinking principle or mind is wasted
and weakened, and appears to be extinct and null; the intellect which
remains in common in all beings, is called the common intelligence (or
Nous) of all.
3. And this intellect when it is devoid of its intellection and is
absorbed in itself, and becomes as transparent as it is nothing of
itself; it is then called the common (or Samanga) intellect.
4. And likewise, when it ignores the knowledge of all its internal and
external objects, it remains as the common intellect and unconscious of
any personality.
5. When all visible objects are considered to have a common existence,
and to be of the same nature with one’s self, it is designated the
common intellect. (Or compression of the whole in one, like the
contraction of the limbs of a tortoise).
6. When the phenomenas are all ingulphed of themselves, in the one
common spirit; and there remains nothing as different from it, it is
then called the one common entity.
7. This common view of all things as one and the same, is called
transcendentalism; and it becomes alike both to embodied and
disembodied beings in both worlds. It places the liberated being above
the fourth stage of consummation.
8. It is the enlightened soul which is exalted by ecstacy (Samádhi),
that can have this common view of all as one; and not the ignorant (who
can not make this highest generalization).
9. This common view of all existence, is entertained by all great and
liberated beings; as it is the same moisture and air, that is spread
through the whole earth and vacuum.
10. Sages like ourselves, as Nárada and others, and the gods Brahmá,
Vishnu and Siva, have this common view of all things in existence.
11. The saintly Uddálaka, entertained this view of the community of
all beings and things; and having thereby attained to that state of
perfection, which is free from fear or fall; he lived as long as he
liked to live in this earthly sphere.
12. After lapse of a long time, he thought of enjoying the bliss of
disembodied or spiritual liberation in the next world, by quitting his
frail mortal frame on earth.
13. With this intention, he went into the cave of a mountain, and there
made a seat for himself, with the dried leaves of trees; and then sat
upon it in his posture of _padmásana_, with his eyes half closed under
his eyelids.
14. He shut up the opening of the nine organs of sense, and then having
compressed their properties of touch and the like, in the one single
sense of perception, he confined them all within it in his intellect.
15. He compressed the vital airs in his body, and kept his head erect
on his neck; and then by fixing the tip of his tongue to the roof of
his palate, he sat with his blooming countenance turned upwards to
heaven.
16. He did not allow his breath, to pass up or down or out of or inside
his body, or fly into the air; nor let his mind and sight to be fixed
on any object; but compressed them all in himself with his teeth joined
together (in his struggle for compression).
17. There was a total stop of the breathing of his vital airs, and
his countenance was composed and clear; his body was erect with the
consciousness of his intellect, and his hairs stood on their ends like
thorns.
18. His habitual consciousness of intellection, taught him the
community of the intellect; and it was by his constant communion with
the intellect, that he perceived a flood of internal bliss stirring in
himself.
19. This feeling of his internal bliss, resulting from his
consciousness of intellectual community; led him to think himself
as identic with the entity of the infinite soul, and supporting the
universal whole.
20. He remained with an even composure, in his state of transcendent
quietness; and enjoyed an even rapture in himself, with a placid
countenance.
21. Being unruffled by the transport of his spiritual bliss, and
attaining the state of divine holiness; he remained for a long time in
his abstract meditation, by abstracting his mind, from all thoughts and
errors of the world.—
22. His great body remained as fixed as an image in painting, and shone
as bright as the autumnal sky, illumined by the beams of the full moon.
23. In course of some days, his soul gradually forgot its mortal state,
and it found its rest in his pure spiritual bliss; as the moisture of
trees is deposited in the rays of the sun, at the end of autumn (in the
cold season).
24. Being devoid of all desires, doubts and levity of his mind; and
freed from all foul and of pleasurable inclinations of his body; he
attained to that supreme bliss on the loss of his former joys, before
which the prosperity of Indra appeared as a straw, floating on the vast
expanse of the ocean.
25. The Bráhman then attained to that state of his _summum bonum_ which
is unmeasurable, and pervades through all space of the measureless
vacuum; and which fills the universe and is felt by the enraptured
yogi alone. It is what is called the supreme and infinite bliss,
having neither its beginning nor end, and being a reality, without any
property assignable to itself.
26. While the Bráhman attained to this first state of his consummation,
and had the clearness of his understanding, during the first six months
of his devotion; his body became emaciated by the sun beams, and the
winds of heaven whistled over his dry frame, with the sound of lute
strings.
27. After a long time had elapsed in this manner, the daughter of the
mountain king—Párvatí, came to that spot, accompanied by the Mátris,
and shining like flames of fire with the grey locks of hair on their
heads, as if to confer the boon of his austere devotion.
28. Among them was the goddess Chámundá, who is adored by the gods. She
took up the living skeleton of the Bráhman, and placed it on her crown,
which added a new lustre to her frame at night.
29. Thus was the disgusting and dead like body of Uddálaka, set and
placed over the many ornaments on the body of the goddess; and it was
only for her valuing it as more precious than all other jewels, on
account of its intrinsic merit of spiritual knowledge.
30. Whoever plants this plant of the life and conduct (_i.e._, the
biography) of Uddálaka in the garden of his heart, will find it always
flourishing with the flowers of knowledge and the fruit of divine bliss
within himself. And whoso walks under the shadow of this growing arbor,
he is never to be subject to death, but will reap the fruit of his
higher progress in the path of liberation.
CHAPTER LVI.
INVESTIGATION INTO MEDITATION AND CONTEMPLATION.
Argument. That a man in secular life, is not barred from
spiritual contemplation. Nor is the spiritualist debarred from
engaging in secular duties.
Vasishtha continued:—Proceed in this manner to know the universal soul
in your own soul, and thereby obtain your rest in that holy state.
2. You must consider all things by the light of the sástras, and dive
into their true meaning; you will also benefit yourselves by the
lectures of your preceptor, and by pondering on them in your own mind;
as also by your constant practice of ignoring the visibles, until you
come to know the invisible One.
3. It is by means of your habitual dispassionateness, your acquaintance
with the sástras and their meanings, and your hearing the lectures of
the spiritual teachers; as well as your own conviction that you can
gain the holy state (for it is your confidence only), whereby you can
come to it.
4. It is also by your enlightened understanding too, when it is
acute and unbiased, that you can attain to that everlasting state of
felicity, without the medium of anything else.
5. Ráma said:—Tell me sir, that art acquainted with the past and
future; whether one who is employed in the affairs of life, and at the
same time is enlightened and situated in his quietude;—
6. And another who remains in his solitary devotion, apart from worldly
connections; which of these two has greater merit (_i.e._, whether the
social or solitary devotee).
7. Vasishtha replied:—-He who views the association of properties and
qualities of things (which constitute all bodies in general), as quite
distinct from the soul; enjoys a cool tranquility within himself,
which is designated by the name of Samádhi.
8. He who is certain that the visibles bear relation to his mind
only, and have no connection with his soul; and remains calm and cool
in himself, may be either engaged in business, or sit quietly in his
meditation.
9. Both of these are happy souls, as long as they enjoy a cool calmness
within themselves; because it is this internal coolness of the soul
only, which is the result of great and austere devotion.
10. When a man in his habit of quietude, feels the fickleness of his
mind, his habitude then, turns to the reeling of a giddy or mad man.
11. When the sprawling mad man is devoid of desires in his mind; his
foolish frolic is then said to resemble the rapturous emotions, and
gesticulations of Buddhist mendicants.
12. The worldly man who is enlightened in his mind, and the enlightened
sage who is sitting in his hermitage; are both of them alike in their
spiritual coolness, and have undoubtedly reached the state of their
blessedness.
13. The man who is unrelated with the actions which he does, but bears
a mind which is free from desires, such as the mind of a man engrossed
with other thoughts; he is sensible of what he hears and sees, with his
organs only, without being affected by them.
14. A man becomes the agent of an act, even without his doing it
actually, who is fully intent upon the action; as the unmoving man
thinks himself to be moving about, and falling down in a ditch
(startles even at the thought, as if it were in actuality).
15. Know the inaction of the mind, to be the best state of
_anaesthesia_; and solity or singleness, as the best means to your
_insouciance_.
16. It is the activity and inactivity of the mind, which are said to be
the sole causes, of the restlessness and quietness of men, as also of
their fixed meditation and want of its fixity: therefore destroy the
germs of thy rising desires.
17. Want of desire is called the neutrality of the mind, and it is this
that constitutes its steadiness and meditation; this gives solity to
the soul, and contributes to its everlasting tranquility.
18. The diminishing of desires leads the man to the highest station
of inappetency and innocence (_i.e._ from the fourth to the seventh
píthiká).
19. The thick gathering desires, serve to fill the mind with the vanity
of its agency, which is the cause of all its woes; (because it wakens
them, only to labour under their throes); therefore try to weaken your
desires at all times.
20. When the mind is tranquil, after it is freed from its fears, griefs
and desires; and the soul is set at its rest and quiet, in want of its
passions; it is then called the state of its _samádhi_ or _non-chalance_.
21. Relinquish the thoughts of all things from thy mind, and live
wherever thou livest, whether on a mount or in a forest, as calmly as
thou dost at thy home.
22. The houses of house-holders of well governed minds, and of those
who are devoid of the sense of their egoism, are as solitary forests to
them (without any stir or disturbance to annoy them).
23. Dwelling in one’s own house or in a forest, is taken in one and the
same light by cool-minded men, as they view all visible objects, in the
light of an empty vacuum only.
24. Men of pacified minds, view the bright and beautiful buildings of
cities, in the same indifferent light, as they behold the woods in the
forest.
25. It is the nature of ungoverned minds, to view even the solitary
woods, to be as full of people as large towns and cities (_i.e._, they
have no peace of mind anywhere).
26. The restless mind falls asleep, after it gets rid of its labour;
but the quiet mind has its quietus afterwards (its nirvána extinction)
(_i.e._, the one sleeps and rises again, but the other one is wholly
extinct). Therefore do as you like: (either sleep to rise again, or
sleep to wake no more).
27. Whether one gets rid of worldly things or not, it is his sight of
the infinite spirit, that makes him meek and quiet. (The worldly and
the recluse are equally holy, with their divine knowledge only).
28. He whose mind is expanded by his like indifference, to both the
objects of his desire and disgust also; and to whom all things are
alike insignificant everywhere, he is called the staid and stoic, and
the cool and meek.
29. He who sees the world in God in his inmost soul, and never as
without the Divine Spirit; and whose mind sees everything in waking as
in his sleep, is verily the lord of mankind.
30. As the market people, whether coming in or going out, are strangers
to and unrelated with one another; so the wise man looks upon the
concourse of men with unconcern, and thinks his own town a wilderness.
31. The mind which is fixed to its inward vision, and is inattentive to
external objects; thinks the populous city as a wilderness before it,
both when it is awake or asleep, and active or inactive.
32. Those who are attentive to the inward mind, sees the outer world as
a vacuous space to him; and the populous world appears as a desert
desolate to him, owing to its unworthiness of his attention.
33. The world is all cool and calm to the cold hearted, as the system
of the body is quiet cool to one without his fit of fever-heat.
34. Those that are parched with their internal thirst, find the world
as a burning conflagration to them; because everybody sees the same
without him, as he sees within himself.
35. The external world with all its earthly, watery and airy bodies,
and with all its rocks, rivers and quarters, is the counterpart of
the inner mind, and is situated without it, as it is contained within
itself.
36. The big banian tree and the little barley plants, are exact ectypes
of their antitypes in the eternal mind; and they are exhibited out of
it, as they are within it, like the fragrance of flowers diffused in
the air.
37. There is nothing situated in the inside or the outside of this
world, but they are the casts and copies, as displayed by their
patterns in the great mind of God.
38. The external world is a display of the essence, contained in the
universal soul; and appears without it from within its concealment,
like the smell of camphor coming out of its casket.
39. It is the divine soul, which manifests itself in the form of the
ego and the world also (the subjective and the objective); and all
what we see externally or think internally, either in and out of us is
unreal, except the real images which are imprinted in the soul.
40. The soul which is conscious of its innate images, sees the same in
their intellectual appearances within the mind, and in their external
manifestations in the visible creation.
41. He who has his internal and external tranquility, and enjoys his
peace of mind, and views the world inseparable from the soul, enjoys
his quiet _samádhi_ everywhere; but he who perceives their difference,
and differentiates his egoism from all others (that is, who sees his
distinction from other beings), he is ever subject to be tossed about,
as by the rolling waves of the sea.
42. The soul that is infested by the maladies of this world, sees the
earth, sky, air and water, together with the hills and all things in
them, burning before it as in the conflagration, of the last day of
dissolution (_pralaya_).
43. He who performs his work with his organs of action, and has his
soul fixed in its internal meditation; and is not moved by any joy or
grief, is called the dispassionate yogi.
44. He who beholds the all pervading soul in his own self, and by
remaining unruffled in his mind, doth never grieve at nor thinks about
any thing; is styled the unimpassioned yogi.
45. Who looks calmly into the course of the world, as it has passed or
is present before him, and sits still smiling at its vicissitudes, that
man is named the unpassionate yogi.
46. Because these changing phenomena do not appertain to unchanging
spirit of God, nor do they participate with my own egoism (_i.e._ they
are no parts, of God or myself); they but resemble the glittering atoms
of gold in the bright sun-shine which do not exist in the sky.
47. He who has no sense of egoism or tuism in himself, nor the
distinction of things in his mind, as of the sensible and insensible
ones; is the one that truly exists, and not the other who thinks
otherwise. (So says the Sruti:—The one alike in all is the All, and
not the other, who is unlike every thing).
48. He who conducts all his affairs with ease, by his remaining as the
intangible and translucent air about him, and who remains as insensible
of his joy and sorrow, as a block of wood or stone, is the man that is
called the sedate and quiet.
49. He who of his own nature and not through fear, looks on all beings
as himself, and accounts the goods of others as worthless stones; is
the man that sees them in their true light.
50. No object whether great or small, is slighted as a trifle by the
polished or foolish; they value all things, but do not perceive in
their hearts, the Reality that abides in them like the wise. (Fools
look into the forms of things, but the wise look in their in being).
51. One possessed of such indifference and equality of his mind,
attains to his highest perfection; and is quite unconcerned with regard
to his rise and fall, and about his life and death.
52. He is quite unconcerned with any thing, whether he is situated
amidst the luxuries at his home, and the superfluities of the world, or
when he is bereft of all his possessions and enjoyments, and is exposed
in a dreary and deep solitude:
53. Whether indulging in voluptuousness or bacchanal revelry, or
remaining retired from society and observing his taciturnity (it is all
equal to him, if he is but indifferent about them).
54. Whether he anoints his body with sandal paste or agalo chum, or
besmears it with powdered camphor; or whether he rubs his person with
ashes, or casts himself into the flames (it is all the same to him,
with his _non-chalance_ of them).
55. Whether drowned in sinfulness, or marked by his meritoriousness;
whether he dies this day or lives for a kalpa-age (it is all the same
to the indifferent).
56. The man of indifference is nothing in himself, and therefore his
doings are no acts of his own. He is not polluted by impurity, as the
pure gold is not sullied by dirt or dust.
57. It is the wrong application of the words consciousness—_samvit_,
and soul (purusha), to I and thou (or the subjective and objective),
which has led the ignorant to the blunder (of duality), as the silvery
shell of cockles, misleads men to the error of silver.
58. The knowledge of the extinction of all existence (in the Supreme
Spirit), is the only cure for this blunder of one’s entity, and the
only means to the peace of his mind.
59. The error of egoism and tuism of the conscious soul, which is the
source of its vain desires, causes the variety of the weal and woe of
mankind in their repeated births. (Selfishness grows our desires, and
these again produce our woes).
60. As the removal of the fallacy of the snake in the rope, gives peace
to the mind of there being no snake therein; so the subsidence of
egoism in the soul, brings peace and tranquility to the mind.
61. He that is conscious of his inward soul, and unconscious of all
he does, eats, drinks; and of his going to others, and offering his
sacrifice; is free from the results of his acts: and it is the same to
him, whether he does them or not.
62. He who slides from outward nature, and abides in his inward soul;
is released from all external actions, and the good and evil resulting
therefrom.
63. No wish stirs in such unruffled soul, in the same manner as no germ
sprouts forth from the bosom of a stone; and such desires as ever rise
in it, are as the waves of the sea, rising and falling in the same
element.
64. All this is Himself, and He is the whole of this universe, without
any partition or duality in Him. He is one with the holy and Supreme
soul, and the only entity called the Idest, _tatsat_. (He is no
unreality, but as real as the true Reality).
CHAPTER LVII.
NEGATION OF DUALISM.
Argument. One Supreme Intellect pervades the whole, and is one
with itself.
Vasishtha continued:—The intellect residing in the soul, is felt by
all like the poignancy inherent in pepper; and it is this, whereby we
have the intellection of the ego and non-ego, and of the distinctions
of the undivided dimension of infinite duration and space.
2. The soul is as the Universal ocean of salt, and the intellect is the
saltishness inherent in it; it is this which gives us the knowledge of
the ego and non-ego, and appears in the forms of infinite space and
time (which are no other than its attributes).
3. The intellect of which we have the knowledge as inherent in the soul
itself; is as the sweetness of the sugarcane of the soul, and spreads
itself in the different forms of the ego and the non-ego of worldly
objects.
4. The intellect which is known as the hardness inhering in the
stonelike soul, diffuses itself in the shapes of the compact ego and
the unsolid non-ego of the world.
5. The knowledge that we have of the solidity of our rock-like soul,
the same solidifies itself in the forms of I and thou, and the
diversities of the world all about us.
6. The soul which like the great body of water, presents its fluidity
in the form of the intellect; the same assumes the forms of the
whirlpools of the ego, and the varieties of non-ego in the world.
7. The great arbor of the soul, stretches itself in the exuberant
branches of the intellect; producing the fruits of ego and the various
forms of non-ego in the world.
8. The intellect which is but a gap in the great vacuum of the soul,
produces the ideas of I and thou and of the universe besides.
9. The intellect is as vain as vanity itself in the vacuity of the
soul; and gives rise to the ideas of ego and _tu_, and of the world
besides.
10. The intellect situated within the environs of the soul, has its
egoism and non-egoism situated without it. (_i.e._ The soul contains the
intellect, which deals with ideas lying beyond it).
11. When the intellect is known, to be of the same essence with that of
the soul; then the difference of the ego and non-ego, proves to be but
acts of intellection and no reality.
12. It is the reflexion of the inward soul अन्तरात्मा which is
understood to be the ego अहं, the mind चित्त and _anima_ or animated
soul जीव. (The two souls are respectively called the _nafs natigue_ and
the _nafs Jesmia_ in sufism, the former is _Meram and Shaffat_—luminous
and transparent, and the latter _nafs amera Jesmani_—or bodily senses,
and _quate uhshi_—or outrageous passions).
13. When the luminous and moon like soul, entertains and enjoys the
ambrosial beams of the intellect within itself; it then forgets its
egoism, which rises no more in its bright sphere.
14. When the sweetness of the intellect, is felt within the molasses of
the soul; it is relished by the mind with a zest, which makes it forget
its egoism in itself.
15. When the bright gem of the soul, shines with the radiance of the
intellect in itself; it finds its egoism to be lost altogether, under
the brightness of its intellectual light.
16. The soul perceives nothing in itself, for the total want of the
perceptibles in it; nor does it taste anything in itself, for want of
anything gustable therein. (The objective is altogether lost in it).
17. It thinks of nothing in itself, for want of the thinkables therein;
nor does it know of aught in itself, for want of the knowables there.
(The soul being absorbed in itself, is unconscious both of the
subjective as well as objective).
18. The soul remains blank of all impressions of the subjective and
objective, and also of the infinite _plenum_ in itself; it remains in
the form of a firm and solid rock by itself.
19. It is by way of common speech or verbiage, we use the words I and
thou, and of the objective world, though they are nothing whatever in
reality.
20. There is no seat nor agent of thought, nor fallacy of the world in
the soul (all which are acts of the mind only): while the soul remains
as a mute and pellucid cloud, in one sphere of the autumnal sky.
21. As the waters by cause of their fluidity, take the forms of
vortices in the sea; so the intelligent soul assumes its errors of I
and thou in its undivided self; owing to its delusion (_máyá_) of the
knower and known (or the subjective and objective).
22. As fluidity is inherent in water, and motion in air, so is egoism
innate in the subjective knower, and objectively connate with the known
world. (This is said of the intelligent or animated soul, and not of
the supreme soul, which is both the subject and object in itself).
23. The more doth the knowledge of a man, increase in its verity, the
clearer does the knowing man come to find, that his very knowledge
of the known objects, is the display of Divine Omniscience itself.
But should he come to know his egoism or subjectivity, owing to his
vitality and activity; and conceive the _Idison_ or objectivity of all
others (beside himself); in this case the learned or knowing man is
no better than an Egoist, and knowing the Living God or Jíva Brahmá
only.[1]
24. In as much as the intelligent soul (jíva), derives its pleasure
from its knowledge of objects; in like manner is it identified with the
knowledge, of its sameness with or difference from that object. (_i.e._
It is according to the thought or belief of the thinker, that he is
identified or differentiated from the object thought of).
25. Living, knowing and the knowledge of things, are properties of the
animated or concrete soul—the jíva: but there is no difference of
these in the discrete, or Universal and intellectual soul (which is one
in all).
26. As there is no difference between the intelligent and the living
soul (jíva), so there is no diversity between the intelligent soul and
Siva (Ziv or Jove), the Lord of animated nature who is the undivided
whole.
27. Know the all quiescent, and the unborn One, who is without
beginning, middle and end; who is self manifest and felicity itself;
and who is inconceivable and beyond all assignable property or quality.
He is all quiescent, and all verbal and ocular indications of him
are entirely false. Yet for the sake of our comprehension, he is
represented as the Holy one, _on_ or om.
CHAPTER LVIII.
LEGEND OF SURAGHU; AND ADMONITION OF MÁNDAVYA.
Argument. Self-dejectedness of Suraghu; and Mándavya’s
Admonitions to him.
Vasishtha said:—Hear me relate to you Ráma, an old legend, in
illustration of this subject; and it is the account of the Kiráta Chief
Suraghu, which is marvelous in its nature.
2. There is a tract of land in the regions on the north, which was
hoary as a heap of camphor with its snowfalls, and which seemed to
smile as the clear night, under the moon-beams of the bright fortnight.
3. It was situated on the summit of Himálaya, and called the peak of
Kailása; it was free from mountainous elephants, and was the chief of
all other peaks (owing to its being the seat of Siva).
4. It was as milk-white, as the bed of Vishnu in the milky ocean, and
as bright as the empyrean of Indra in heaven; it was as fair as the
seat of Brahmá, in the pericarp of the lotus; and as snow-white as the
snowy peak of Kedára, the favourite seat of Siva.
5. It was owing to the waving of the Rudráksha trees over it, and the
parade of the Apsara fairies about it, as also by the pencils of rays
of its various gems, that it appeared as the undulating sea (of milk or
curd).
6. The playful Pramathas, and other classes of demigods (ganadevatás)
frolicked here as gaily as blossoms of Asoka plants, when tossed about
by the feet of their wanton damsels. (It is said that the Asoka jonesia
flowers blossom, better, when they are kicked by and trodden under the
feet of females). See Sir W. Jones’ Indian plants.
7. Here the god Siva wanders about, and sees the water falls proceeding
from and receding into the caves of the mountain, by dilution of the
moon-stones contained in them (the thick ice and snows here, are taken
for moon-stones).
8. There was a spot of ground here enclosed by trees, and by plants
and creepers and shrubs of various kinds; and which is intersected by
lakes, hills and rivers, and interspersed by herds of deer and does of
various species.
9. There dwelt a race of the Kirátas called Himajátas at this spot, who
were as numerous as the ants living at the foot by a big banian tree.
10. They lived like owls in the shades and hollows of the trees, and
subsisted upon the fruits and flowers and herbage of the nearest
forests, and by felling and selling the Rudráksha woods of the Kailása
mountain.
11. They had a chief among them, who was as nobleminded, as he was
brave to baffle his enemies; he was as the arm of the goddess of
victory, and stretched it for the protection of his people.
12. He had the name of Suraghu, and was mighty in quelling his brave
and dreadful enemies; he was powerful as the sun, and as strong as the
god of wind in his figure.
13. He surpassed the lord of the Guhyakas—Kuvera, in the extent of his
kingdom, his dignity and riches; he was greater than the guru of the
lord of gods in his wisdom, and excelled the preceptor of the Asuras in
learning.
14. He discharged his kingly duties, by giving rewards and punishments
of the deserts of his men as they appeared to him; and was as firm in
the acquittal of these duties, as the sun in making the day and his
daily course.
15. He considered in himself the pain and pleasure, that his
punishments and rewards caused his people; and to which they were like
birds caught in nets from their freedom of flight.
16. “Why do I perforce pierce the hearts of my people,” he said, as
they bruise the sesamum seeds for oil; it is plain that all persons are
susceptible of pain and affliction like myself?
17. Yes, they are all capable of pain, and therefore I will cease to
inflict them any more; but give them riches and please all persons.
18. But if I refrain to punish the tormentors of the good, they are
sure to be extirpated by the wicked, as the bed of the channel is dried
up for want of rain.
19. Oh! the painful dilemma in which I am placed, wherein my punishment
and mercy to men are both grievous to me, or pleasing and unpleasing to
me by turns.
20. Being in this manner much troubled in his mind, his thoughts
disturbed his spirit like the waters in the whirlpools.
21. It happened at one time the sage Mándavya met him at his house, as
the divine sage Nárada (the Mercury or messenger of gods), meets Indra
in his celestial abode, in his journey through the regions of the sky.
22. The king honoured him with reverence, and then asked that great
sage to remove his doubt, as they cut down a poisonous tree in the
garden, with the stroke of the axe at its roots.
23. Suraghu said:—I am supremely blest, O sage, at this call of thine
at mine, which has made me as joyous as the visit of the spring on the
surface of the earth, and gives a fresh bloom to the fading forest.
24. Thy visit, O sage! has really made me more blest than the blessed,
and gives my heart to bloom, as the rising sun opens the closed petals
of the lotus.
25. Thou oh lord! art acquainted with all truths and art quite at rest
in thy spirit; deign, therefore to remove this doubt from my mind, as
the sun displaces the darkness of night by his orient beams.
26. A doubt festering in the heart is said to be the greatest pain of
man, and this pain is healed only in the society of the good and wise.
27. The thoughts of my rewards and punishments to my dependents, have
been incessantly tormenting my heart, as the scratches inflicted by
the nails of a lion, are always afflicting to the bruised body of the
elephant.
28. Deign, therefore, O sage, to remove this pain of mine, and cause
the sunshine of peace and equanimity to brighten the gloom of my mind.
29. Mándavya replied:—It is O prince; by means of one’s self-exertion,
self-dependence and self-help that the doubts of the mind, are melted
down like snows under the sunshine.
30. It is by self-discrimination also, that all mental anguish is
quickly put to an end; as the thick mists and clouds are dispersed in
autumn.
31. It must be in one’s own mind, that he should consider the nature
and powers of his internal and external organs, and the faculties of
his body and mind.
32. Consider in thy mind (such things as these); as what am I, what and
whence are all these things; and what means this our life, and what is
this death that waits upon it? These inquiries will surely set thee to
eminence.
33. As you come to know your true nature by your introspection into the
state of your mind, you will remain unchanged by your joys and griefs,
as a firm rock (stands against the force of winds and waves, to shake
or move it).
34. And as the mind is freed from its habitual fickleness and feverish
heat, it regains its former tranquility; as the rolling wave returns
to the state of the still water from which it rose.
35. And as the mind remains in the impassability of living liberated
men (Jívan-mukta), all its imageries are wiped off from it; as its
impressions or reminiscences of past lives, are lost and effaced upon
its regeneration (in each succeeding _manwantara_).
36. The unimpassioned are honoured as the most fortunate among mankind
on earth; and the man knowing this truth and remaining with his
self-contentment is regarded as venerable father by every body.
37. When you come to see the greatness of your soul by the light
of reason, you will find yourself to be of greater magnitude, than
the extent of the sky and ocean put together; and the rational
comprehensiveness of the mind, bears more meaning in it, than the
irrational comprehension of the spheres.
38. When you attain to such greatness, your mind will no more dive into
worldly affairs; as the big elephant will not be engulfed in the hole
made by the bullock’s hoof.
39. But the base and debased mind, will plunge itself in mean and vile
matters of the world; as the contemptible gnat is drowned in a drop of
water in a little hole.
40. Little minds are led by their greediness, to dive in to dirty
affairs, like insects moving about in the dirt; and their miserliness
makes them covet all out-ward things (without seeking their inward good).
41. But great minds avoid to take notice of outward things, in order
that they may behold the pure light of supreme soul shining in
themselves.
42. The ore is cleared and washed, until pure gold is obtained from
it; and so long is spiritual knowledge to be cultivated by men, until
spiritual light fills their souls.
43. See always all things of all sorts with an ecumenical view in
all places; and with an utter indifference to the varieties of their
outward forms and figures; behold all with the eye of thy soul fixed to
one universal soul pervading the whole.
44. Until thou art freed from thy view of all particular specialities,
thou canst have no sight of the universal spirit, it is after
the disappearance of all particularities, that there remains the
catholicity of the transcendental spirit.
45. Until thou gettest rid of all individualities, it is impossible for
thee to come to the knowledge of universality; and much more so, to
comprehend the all-comprehending soul of all.
46. When one endeavours to know the supreme soul, with all his heart
and soul, and sacrifices all other objects to that end; it is then only
possible for him, to know the Divine soul in its fulness, and not
otherwise.
47. Therefore forsake to seek aught for thy own soul; and it is only by
thy leaving all other things, that thou comest to the sight of the best
of things.
48. All these visible objects which appear to be linked together, by
the concatenation of causes and their effects, are the creation of the
mind; which combines them together, as the string doth a necklace of
pearls. That which remains after expunging the mind and its created
bodies, is the sole soul, and this is that soul Divine;—the paramátmá.
CHAPTER LIX.
TRANQUILITY OF SURAGHU.
Argument. The loss and oblivion of all things and thoughts,
leading to the security and Tranquility of spirit.
Vasishtha continued:—O progeny of Raghu! after the sage Mándavya had
advised the Kiráta king in the said manner, he retired to his solitary
abode, suited for holy saints and sages.
2. After the sage had gone, the prince also retired to a lonely place;
and there began to reflect on the nature of his soul, and the manner of
his existence (in this world and the next).
3. He said:—I am not in this mountain (nor in any visible thing), nor
are they mine (or any part of myself); I am not the cosmos, nor is this
world myself. (I am no hill, nor do the hills appertain to my soul;
I am not of this earth, nor is the earth any part of mine unearthly
spirit, Gloss). So says the Sufi poets: ná azarsham &c.
4. This habitation of the Kirátas, does not belong to me nor do I
belong to it; it is the consent of the people that has made me the
ruler of the place.
5. Without this election I am no body here, nor is this place any thing
to me; though this city and this place are to last for ever.
6. The city so magnificent with its highflying flags, its groves
and gardens and groups of my servants, and the long train of horse,
elephants and soldiers, is, alas! nothing to myself.
7. All this was nothing to me before my election, and will not be mine
after my disposal; and all these possessions, enjoyments and consorts,
do neither appertain to me nor I to them.
8. Thus this Government with all its force and officers in the city, is
naught to me, nor am I aught to it in reality, except mere adscititious
compliments to one another.
9. I think myself to be this body of mine, composed of my legs, hands,
and feet, and believe myself to be placed in the midst of these
(_i.e._, in the heart.)
10. But I perceive my body to be composed of flesh and bones; and not
constituting my rational self; which like the lotus flower rises amidst
the waters, without bearing any relation with that element.
11. I find the flesh of my body, to be dull and gross matter which
do not make my soul; and I find too my rational part to be not this
gross flesh at all. So do I find my bones likewise to be insensible
substances, and consequently forming no part of my sentient soul.
12. I am none of the organs of action, nor do these organs compose
myself. All organic bodies are composed of gross matter, and do not
consequently constitute the animated soul.
13. I am not the nourishment, which nourishes the body and not the soul
which makes myself; nor am I any organs of sense, which perceives the
material impressions, and have no sensibility without the intellect.
14. I am not the mind which is a passive agent, and minds whatever is
felt by it. It is called the understanding (_buddhi_) from its standing
under all its external and internal perceptions and conceptions
(_bodha_), and is the root of all worldly evils caused by its egoistic
feelings.
15. Thus I am neither the mind nor understanding, nor the internal
senses nor the external organs of action. I am not the inward subtile
body, nor its outward material and self locomotive form, but am
something besides all of these which I want to know.
16. I see at last my intelligent living soul, reflecting on the
intelligibles, thence called its intelligence. But this intelligent
principle being roused (to its action of thinking) by others (the
intelligibles), does not come under the category (_padártha_) of the
soul—_átmá_ (which is independent, and self-consciousness only).
17. Thus I renounce the knowable (living soul), and do not acknowledge
the intelligible intelligence as myself. It is at the end of all the
immutable and pure Intellect, which remains to be owned as myself.
18. Ah! it is wonderful at last, that I have come to know the soul
after so long a time, and find it to be myself the infinite soul, and
the Supreme Spirit which has no end.
19. As Indra and the gods reside and are resolved in Brahma, so the
spirit of God pervades through all material bodies, as the string of
the necklace, passes through the poles of all the pearls of which it is
composed. (This all pervasive soul is known as _sútrátmá_, one of the
ten hypostases of the Divinity).
20. The power of the soul known as intellect, is pure and unsullied
in its nature; it is devoid of the dirt of thinkable objects, and
fills the infinite space with its immense and stupendous figure. (The
omniscience of God comprehends the whole universe in itself, and
pervades all through it as the subtile air).
21. The intellect is devoid of all attributes, and pervades all
existences in its subtile form; stretches itself from the highest
empyrean of heaven to the lowest deep, and is the reservoir of all
power.
22. It is replete with all beauty, and is the light that enlightens all
objects unto us; it is the connecting chain to which all the worlds are
linked together like pearls in the necklace.
23. It is formless but capable of all forms and mutations; being
connected with all matters, and conversant with all subjects at
all times. (The intellect embraces all subjects and its subjective
knowledge comprehends all objects). It has no particular name nor
form, but is taken as varied into different forms, according to the
operations of the intellect.
24. It assumes fourteen forms in its cognition of so many sorts of
beings contained in the two wombs of the world; it is varied in all
these forms, in order to take cognizance of all things composing the
whole body of the natural world. (The intellect comprises the fourteen
sciences of Sanskrit literature over which it bears its command.
Another gloss means by it the fourteen worlds, which are under the
cognizance and dominion of the intellect).
25. The course of human happiness and misery, is a false representation
of the understanding; and the varieties of representations in the
mind, are mere operations of the soul and its attribute of the
Intellect. (Here the mental sciences are meant to be subordinate to the
intellectual, and that again under the psychological).
26. Thus this soul of mine is the same with the All pervading spirit;
and this understanding in me, is no other than that All knowing
intellect. It is the same mind, that represents these imaginary images
in the sensory of my mind, and causes the error of my kingship in me.
27. It is by good grace of the Intellect, that the mind is seated in
the vehicle of the body; and ranges with joy amidst the sports and
diversions of the diversified scenes of this world.
28. But this mind and this body and all diversities are nothing in
reality; they are all destroyed by the cruel hand of death, and not a
vestige of them remains behind. (But the soul and its intellect are
indestructible).
29. This world is a stage, stretched out by the mind its chief actor,
and the soul sits silent as a spectator of this scene, under the light
of the intellect.
30. Alas, I find these painful thoughts of mine for the punishment,
retribution and well being of my people, to be all for nothing; since
whatever is done for the body, perishes with the body also.
31. O, that I am awakened to truth at present, and released from the
mirage of my false views long before; I have come to see what is worth
seeing, and have found all that is worthy to be had.
32. All these visibles which are seen to be wide spread throughout this
universe, are no more than false phantoms, presented or produced by the
vibrations of the intellect; and do not last for long.
33. What is the good then of these my punishments and rewards to my
people, which produce their pain and pleasure for a short time, and do
not lead to the lasting welfare of their souls.
34. What mean these pains and pleasures to us, when they both proceed
from ourselves, and are alike in the sight of God? I had been all along
ignorant of this truth, which has fortunately now dawned upon me.
35. What shall I now do under the influence of this light; shall I now
be sorry or joyous for it; what have I now to look at and do, as to
whether I shall now remain in this place or go away from here?
36. I behold this wondrous sphere of the intellect, now shining upon
me in its full splendour; and I hail thee, O holy light! which I see
blazing before me, but of which I can predicate nothing.
37. Ah! that I am now so awakened and enlightened and come to know the
whole truth in me; I hail, therefore, myself now instinct with infinity
and Omniscience.
38. Being freed from the paintings of my mind, and cleared from the
dross of the sensible objects, and also released from the errors of
this world; I rest myself, in the lap of my tranquil soul, as in a
state of sound sleep, and in utter oblivion of all my internal and
external impressions.
CHAPTER LX.
EXTINCTION OF SURAGHU.
Argument. Seclusion of Suraghu until his last moment, and his
liberation in his lifetime.
Vasishtha continued:—Thus the lord of Hemajata, attained the state of
his perfect felicity; and it was by means of his ratiocination, that he
found his liberation in Brahma like the Son of Gádhi.
2. He was no longer employed in the discharge of his painful daily
rituals, which are attended with repeated misery to their practicers;
but remained like the unchanging sun, amidst the rotation of ever
changing days and nights.
3. He remained thence forward without any care or anxiety; and
continued as firm and unmoved, amidst the righteous and wrongful acts
of his subjects, as a rock stands in the midst of the boisterous waves,
playing about and dashing against it.
4. He was not susceptible of gladness or anger, at the conduct of
others in the discharge of their daily duties; but remained as grave as
the deep ocean, under the heaving waves of his clamourous people.
5. He subdued his mental actions and passions as a man does in his
sound sleep; and shone with an unshaken lustre, as the flame of a lamp
in the still air.
6. He was neither unkind nor ever kind to any body, nor of was he
envious or inimical to any one. He was neither too wise or unwise, nor
was he a seeker nor despiser of fortune.
7. He looked upon all with an even eye and in an equal light. He
conducted himself with unwaving steadiness, and was as cool and gentle
in his mind, as the calm ocean and the gentle moonlight.
8. Knowing all things in the world to be but workings of the mind, he
remained quiet in every state of pleasure and pain, with the soundness
of his understanding.
9. His mind was enlightened, and his entranced soul enjoyed its
anaesthesia in every state of his life; and was full in itself both
when he sat and slept, as also when he moved about or did any thing.
10. He continued for a full century to reign over his realm with his
mind unattached to state affairs; and with his unimpaired body and
intellect.
11. He at last quitted his habitation of the frail body of his own
accord; as the dew drops itself down, by being impregnated with the sun
beams.
12. His soul then fled on the wings of his intelligence, to the primary
and final cause of causes; as the current of the stream runs to the
main ocean, by breaking down its bounds of the banks on its way.
13. The intelligent soul being freed from its remorse (of leaving the
body), and released from the conditions of its transmigration, became
one with the immaculate spirit; and was then absorbed in the Supreme
One; as the air contained in a pot, mixes with the all-encompassing
firmament after the pot is broken.
CHAPTER LXI.
MEETING OF SURAGHU AND PARIGHA.
Argument. The praiseworthy deeds of good Princes.
Vasishtha said:—O lotus-eyed Rághava! do you likewise act in the
manner as Suraghu, and rely yourself in the sole existence of the
Supreme one, for cleansing your iniquities, and for your getting rid of
all sorrow in this world.
2. The mind will no longer pant or sorrow, when it comes to have this
ecumenical sight in itself; as a child is no more afraid of dark, when
it gets the light of a lamp in the room.
3. The discriminating mind of Suraghu found its rest in perfect
tranquility; as a fool finds his security by laying hold of a big
bundle of straws.
4. Having this holy sight in your view, and by your preaching this
light to others, do you continue to enjoy this uniform _insouciance_
(Samádhi) in yourself, and shine forth as a bright gem before the world.
5. Ráma said:—Tell me O chief of sages, what is this uniform
_insouciance_, and set my mind at rest, which is now fluttering like
the plumes of a peacock discomposed by the winds.
6. Vasishtha replied:—Attend therefore, O Ráma! to the marvelous story
of that enlightened and sagely prince Suraghu, and how he conducted
himself by subsisting on the leaves of trees.
7. I will relate to you also the communication which went on between
two princes, both of whom were equally enlightened in their souls, and
situated in the same sort of uniform quietism.
8. There was a mighty king of the Plahvas (Persians) known by the name
of Parigha; who was a victor of his enemies, and also the support of
his realm, as the axle is the support of a carriage.
9. He was joined in true friendship with Suraghu, and was as closely
allied to him as the god of love with the vernal spring.
10. It happened at one time, that a great drought occurred in the land
of Suraghu, and it was attended by a famine, resembling the final
desolation of the earth, brought on by the sins of men.
11. It destroyed a great number of his people, who were exhausted by
hunger and debility; as a conflagration destroys the unnumbered living
animals of the forest.
12. Seeing this great disaster of his people, Parigha was overwhelmed
in grief; and he left his capital in despair, as a traveller leaves a
city burnt down to the ground.
13. He was so sorely soul-sick at his inability to remove this
unavertible calamity of his subjects, that he went to a forest to
devote himself to devotion like Jíva the chief of devote. (Jíva is
another name of Buddha, who betook himself to the forest on seeing the
woes of human kind).
14. He entered a deep wood unseen by and unknown to his people, and
there passed his time in his disgust with the world, and afar and away
from mankind.
15. He employed himself in his austere devotion in the cavern of a
mountain, and remained sober-minded, with his subsistence upon dry and
withered leaves of trees.
16. It was by his subsisting on dry leaves for a long time, as fire
devours them always, that he obtained the surname of the leaf-eater
among the assembled devotees on that spot.
17. It was thenceforward that the good and royal sage passed under his
title of the leaf-eater among the holy sages in all parts of Jambúdvípa
(Asia).
18. Having thus conducted himself with his most rigid austerities for
many years, he attained the divine knowledge by his long practice of
self-purification, and by grace of the supreme soul.
19. He obtained his self-liberation by his avoidance of enmity and
the passions and affections of anger, pity and other feelings and
desires; and by his attainment of mental calmness and an enlightened
understanding.
20. He wandered _ad libitum_ all about the temple of the triple world
(composed of earth, heaven and the nether regions); and mixed in the
company of the siddhas and sádhyas, as the bees mix with the company of
swans about the lotus beds.
21. His peregrination led him at one time, to visit the city of
Hema-jata, which was built with gemming stones, and shone as brightly as
a peak of the mount Meru (which is represented to be composed of gold
and resplendent stones).
22. Here he met with his old friend the king of that city, and saluted
each other with mutual fondness. They were both delivered from the
darkness of ignorance, and were perfect in their knowledge of the
knowable.
23. They accosted mutually with saying, “O! It is by virtue of our good
fortune that we come to meet one another”.
24. They embraced each other in their arms and with joyous
countenances, and then sat on the one and same seat, as when the sun
and moon are in conjunction.
25. Parigha said:—My heart rejoices to see you with full satisfaction;
and my mind receives a coolness as if it immerged in the cooling orb of
the moon.
26. Unfeigned friendship like true love, shoots forth in a hundred
branches in our separation from each other; as a tree growing by the
side of a pool, stretches its boughs all around, until it is washed
away with its roots by the current.
27. The remembrance of the confidential talks, merry sports and idle
plays of our early days awakes in me, O my good friend! those innocent
joys afresh in me.
28. I know well, O sinless friend, that the divine knowledge which I
have gained by my long and painful devotion and by the grace of God, is
already known to you from the preachings of the sapient sage Mándavya
to you.
29. But let me ask, are you not placed beyond the reach of sorrow, and
set in your rest and tranquility; and are you situated in the supreme
cause of all, and as firmly as if you were seated upon the unshaken
rock of Meru?
30. Do you ever feel that auspicious self gratifying grace in your
soul, which purifies the fountain of your mind, as the autumnal sky
clears the springs of water on earth?
31. Do you, O ruler of your people, perform all your acts, with a
complacent air and steady mind, as you were discharging your duties for
the good of mankind?
32. Do the people in your realm live in safety, to enjoy their
prosperity and competence, and are they all free from disease, danger
and anxieties of life?
33. Is this land plentiful in its harvests, and are the trees here
bending down with their fruitage; and do the people here enjoy the
fruit of their labour and the objects of their desire?
34. Is your good fame spread about in all quarters, like the clear and
cooling beams of the full moon; and does it cover the face of this
land, like a sheet of snowfall on the ground?
35. Is the space of all quarters of the sky, filled with the renown of
your virtues, as to leave no gap in it; and as the roots and stalks of
lotus bushes overspread the tank, and choke and check the course of its
waters?
36. Do the young minds and virgins of your villages, street and walk
about pleasantly over the plains and fields here abouts; and do they
loudly laud forth your heart cheering applause (or their merry songs)?
37. Does all welfare attend on you, with respect to your prosperity,
wealth and possessions and the produce of your fields; and do your
family, children and dependents fare well in this city?
38. Do you enjoy your health free from all disease and complaint; and
reap the reward of your meritorious acts done for this life and the
next (such as sacrifices made for future rewards).
39. Are you indifferent in your mind with regard to temporary
enjoyments, which appear pleasant for a moment, but prove to be our
deadly enemies at last.
40. O! it is after a very long separation, that we come to meet again;
it is my good fortune that rejoins me to you, as the spring revisits
the dales with verdure.
41. There are no such joys here, nor such woes even in this world:
which do not happen to the lot of the living in their union with, and
separation from one another.
42. We are quite altered in our circumstances, during our long
separation; and yet how we happened to meet each other in the same
unchanged state of our minds, by a wonderful accident of destiny.
43. Suraghu replied:—Yes, sir, the course of destiny is as crooked as
that of a serpent; nor is there any man that can penetrate into the
depth of the mysterious nature of destiny.
44. There is nothing impossible to destiny, which has after the lapse
of so long a time, has reunited us in one place, from the vast distance
of the two countries asunder.
45. O great sir! we are all in good health and prosperity in this
place, and have been supremely blest by your graciousness unto us.
46. Behold us purified and cleansed of our sins, by your holy presence
among us; and the arbor of our merits has borne the fruit of our peace
and satisfaction at your sight.
47. O royal sage! we enjoy all prosperity in this our native city; and
your presence here this day, has made it shoot forth, in a hundred
off-shoots of joy and happiness.
48. O noble minded sir! your appearance and speech, have sprinkled this
place with sweet nectarine drops, joy and holiness; because the company
of the virtuous, is reckoned to equal the supreme felicity of man.
CHAPTER LXII.
ON THE NATURE OF QUIETISM AND QUIETUS.
Argument. A discussion about Active and Inactive Devotion and
Godliness.
Vasishtha related:—The prince Parigha then resumed his confidential
speech, expressive of the affection he formerly bore to Suraghu and
added:—
2. Parigha said:—Whatever acts of goodness are done by men of well
governed minds, in this earth of strife, they all redound to their
happiness; but the evil deeds of ungoverned minds are not so, but lead
to their misery.
3. Do you rely, sir, in that state of perfect rest which is free from
desire; and do you rest in that state of supineness—_samádhi_, which
is styled transcendental Coma or trance (paramopsama)?
4. Suraghu replied:—Tell me sir, what you mean by the abandonment of
all desires; and what is meant by that perfect lethargy, which they
call as transcendental coma or trance.
5. Tell me, O high minded Sir, how can that man be called unentranced,
who is enrapt in his supreme intelligence (or knowledge of the
supreme), and at the same time is attendant to his worldly concerns.
6. Men of enlightened understandings, however, they are employed in
the observance of their usual worldly affairs, are yet said to be
enraptured with their knowledge of the solity of the supreme soul.
7. But how can one be said to be beatified, whose mind is unsubdued and
whose nature is indomitable; although he may keep his position in the
posture of _padmásana_ with his folded palms.
8. The knowledge of truth which burns away all worldly desires as
straws, is termed the true catalepsy (_samádhi_) of the soul; rather
than the sedentariness and taciturnity observed by secluded devotees.
9. The knowledge which is attended with continued rest and
self-content, and gives an insight into the nature of things, is called
the paragoge (paraprajná), and repose (_samádhi_) of the soul by the
wise. (Paragogies or palpable knowledge, is opposed to anagogies or
hidden knowledge).
10. Immobility of the mind by pride and enmity, is known by the term
_samádhi_ or quietness to the wise; when the mind is as unmoved as the
fixed rock against the howling winds of the passions. (_i.e._ The mind
which is unshaken and unmoved by passions and desires).
11. The mind is also said to have its stillness _samádhi_, when it is
_devoid_ of anxious thoughts and cares, and is acquainted with the
natures of its wished for objects; and yet freed from its choice of and
aversion to the objects of its liking or dislike. This is also said to
be the fulness or perfection of the mind.
12. Again the mind of the magnanimous, is said to stand in its
stillness of _samádhi_ or quietism, ever since it is joined with its
understanding, and acts conjointly with the same.
13. But this pause of _samádhi_ being stretched too far to a dead
lock, is liable to break down by itself; as the fibre of a lotus-stalk
upon its being drawn too long by the hand of a boy. _Dead_ and dormant
quiescence is the opposite extreme of sensible quietism.
14. As the sun does not cease from giving his light to the other
hemisphere, after he sets from dispensing the day over this part, so
doth our intelligence continue to glow, even after it has run its
course in this life. (So there is no dead stop called the entire
pause—púrna _samádhi_, or utter extinction of the soul at any time).
15. As the course of a stream is never at a stop, notwithstanding
the incessant gliding of its currents; so the course of our thoughts
hath no suspension from its knowing of further truths. (The mind is
ever progressive in its acquisition of knowledge, which proves the
impossibility of its cessation).
16. As the ever continuous duration, never loses the sight of the
fleeting moments of time; so the sempiternal soul is never in abeyance,
to mark the flitting thoughts of its mind.
17. As the ever current time, never forgets to run its wonted course;
so the intelligent understanding is never remiss, to scan the nature of
the mysterious Intellect, which guides its course.
18. The thoughts of an intelligent being, run in as quick a succession;
as the continued rotation of the parts of time; and this is when the
mind wanders at random, and is not settled in the sole object of its
meditation.
19. As the lifeless soul has no perception of any external object; so
the soul unconscious of itself, has no knowledge of the course of time;
as in the state of sleep, delirium and insensibility.
20. As there is no skilful man, without some skill or other in the
world; so there is no intelligent being, without the knowledge of his
soul and self-consciousness here.
21. I find myself to be enlightened and wakeful, and pure and holy at
all times; and that my mind is tranquil, and my soul at its rest on all
occasions.
22. I find nothing to intercept the sweet repose of my soul, which has
found its anchorage in my uninterrupted communion with the holy spirit.
23. Hence my mind is never without its quiescence at any time, nor
is it unquiet at any moment, its being solely resigned to spiritual
meditation.
24. I see the all pervading and everlasting soul, in every thing and
in every manner; and know not whether it be the rest or unrest on my
soul, which has found both its quiet and employment, in its perpetual
meditation of the Divine Spirit.
25. Great men of quiescent spirits, continue always in an even and
uniform tone and tenor of their minds with themselves; therefore the
difference betwixt the rest and restlessness of the soul, is a mere
verbal distinction, and bear no shade of difference and in their
signification.
CHAPTER LXIII.
THE CONCLUSION OF THE ABOVE.
Argument. The Best means of self-contented happiness.
Parigha said:—Prince, I find you to be truly wise and enlightened
in your beatitude; and dost shine as the fullmoon with your inward
coolness.
2. I see in you the fulness of sweet delight, and the shadow of
prosperity resting upon you; and you appear as graceful as the water
lily, with your pleasing and cooling countenance.
3. The clearness, extent, the fullness and depth of your understanding,
give you the appearance of the deep, clear and extensive ocean, when it
ceases to be perturbed by the loud winds and waves.
4. The pure and full delight of your inward soul, which is free from
the cloud of egotism, gives it the grace of the clear expanse of the
autumnal sky.
5. I see you composed in your mind in all places, and find you
contented at all times; you are moreover devoid of passions, and all
these combine to add to you an unutterable grace.
6. You have got over the bounds, of knowing whatever is good and evil
in this world; and your great understanding, has made you acquainted
with every thing in its entirety.
7. Your mind is cheered with the knowledge of all existence and
non-existence, and your body is freed from the evil of repeated birth
and death—the common lot of all beings.
8. You have gleaned the truth from whatever is untrue, and are as
satiate with your true knowledge, as the gods were satisfied with
drinking the water of immortality which they churned out of the
brackish water of the ocean.
9. Suraghu replied: There is nothing in this world, O royal sage! which
we may choose as inestimable to us; for all that shines and glitters
here, are nothing in reality and have no intrinsic value.
10. In this manner there being nothing desirable here to us, there is
nothing disgusting to us neither; because the want of a thing intimates
the want of its contrary also.
11. The idea of the meanness of the most part of worldly things, and
that of the greatness of others on particular occasions, are both
weakened and obliterated from my mind. (_i.e._ The best thing that is
of service at some time, and the very best thing that is useless at
others, are all indifferent to the wise).
12. It is time and place that give importance to the object, and lower
the best ones in our estimation; therefore it behooves the intelligent,
neither to be lavish in the praise or dispraise of one or the other.
13. It is according to our estimation of another, that we praise or
dispraise the same; and we esteem whatever is desirable to us; but they
are the most intelligent, that give their preference to what is the
best, and of the greatest good is to us.
14. But the world abounding in its woods and seas, and mountains and
living animals, presents us nothing that is to be desired for our
lasting and substantial good.
15. What is there that we should desire, when there is nothing worth
desiring in this world; save bodies composed of flesh and bones, and
wood and stones, all of which are worthless and frail.
16. As we cease to desire, so we get rid of our fawning and hatred
also; as the setting of the sun is attended with the loss of both light
and heat.
17. It is useless verbiage to expatiate on the subject; it is enough
to know this truth for our happiness here, _i.e._ to have our desires
under subjection, and an evenness of our minds under all conditions,
attended with inward placidity and universal regard for all.
CHAPTER LXIV.
SERMON ON SELF-KNOWLEDGE.
Argument. The way to guard the mind from faults, and deliver the
soul from misery.
Vasishtha resumed:—After Suraghu and Parigha had ended their
discussion on the errors of this world, they honoured one another with
due respect, and retired gladly to their respective duties of the day.
2. Now Ráma, as you have heard the whole of this instructive dialogue
between them, do you try to profit thereby by a mature consideration of
the same.
3. It is by reasoning with the learned, that the wits are sharpened
with intelligence; and the egotism of men melts down in their minds,
like the raining of a thick black cloud in the sky.
4. It spreads a clear and calm composure over the mind, as the revisit
of cloudless Autumn does, over the spacious firmament to the delight of
mankind, and by its diffusion of bounteous plenty on earth.
5. After the region of the intellect, is cleared of its darkness, the
light of the supreme soul which is the object of meditation and our
sole refuge, becomes visible in it.
6. The man that is always spiritual and insighted within himself, who
is always delighted with his intellectual investigations, has his mind
always free from sorrow and regret.
7. Though the spiritual man is engaged in worldly affairs, and is
subject to passions and affections; yet he is unstained by them in his
heart, as the lotus bud is unsullied by the water under which it is
sub-merged.
8. The silent sage that is all-knowing, holy, and calm and quiet in
himself, is never disturbed by his ungoverned mind; but remains as firm
as the dauntless lion, against the rage of the unruly elephant.
9. The heart of the wise man is never affected by the mean pleasures
of the world; but it stands as the lofty arbor of paradise, above the
encircling bushes of thorny brambles and poisonous plants.
10. As the religious recluse who is disgusted with the world, has no
care for his life, nor fear of death; so the man whose mind is fraught
with full knowledge, is never elated nor depressed by his good or bad
fortune.
11. The man that knows the erroneousness of the mind and the panorama
of the world in the soul, is never soiled by the stain of sin, as the
clear sky is nowhere daubed by any dirt or dust.
12. It is the knowledge of one’s ignorance, that is the best safe guard
against his falling into greater ignorance, and it is the only remedy
for his malady of ignorance, as the light of the lamp is the only
remedial of nocturnal gloom.
13. The knowledge of our ignorance is the best healer of ignorance, as
the knowledge of one’s dreaming removes his trust in the objects of his
dream. (A dream known as a dream to the dreamer, can not lead him to
delusion).
14. A wise man engaged in business, with his mind disengaged from
it, and fixed on one object, is not obstructed by it in his view of
spiritual light; as the eye-sight of fishes, is not hindered by the
surrounding water.
15. As the light of intellectual day, appears over the horizon of the
mind, the darkness of the night of ignorance is put to flight; and then
the mind enjoys its supreme bliss of knowledge, as in the full blaze of
day.
16. After the sleep of ignorance is over, the mind is awakened by its
intelligence, to the bright beams of the rising sun of knowledge; and
then the mind is ever awake to reason, which no dulness can overpower.
17. A man is said to live so long, as he sees the moon of his soul, and
the moon beams of his intellect, shining in the sphere of his mind;
and he is said to have lived only for those few days, that he has
discharged his duties with joy.
18. A man passing over the pool of his ignorance, and betaking himself
to the contemplation of his soul; enjoys a coolness within him, as the
cooling moon enjoys by the cold nectarious juice contained in her orb.
19. There are our true friends, and those are the best sástras; and
those days are well spent, which have passed with them (the sástras),
in discourse on dispassionateness, and when we felt the rise of the
intellect within us.
20. How lamentable is their case, who are born to perish like ferns
in their native forests; and who are immerged in their sinfulness, by
their neglect to look into their souls.
21. Our lives are interwoven with a hundred threads of hopes and fears,
and we are as greedy as bulls of their fodder of straws. We are at last
over taken by old age and decrepitude, and are carried away with sorrow
and sighs.
22. The dullheaded are made to bear, like heavy laden bullocks, great
loads of distress on their backs in their native soil.
23. They are bitten and disturbed by the gnats of their passions, and
are made to plough the ground under the halter of their avarice; they
are shut in the cribs of their masters, and are bound by the bonds of
their kindred.
24. Thus we are harassed in the supportance of our wives and children,
and weakened by age and infirmity, and like beasts of burden we have
to wade in dirt and mire, and to be dragged to long journeys, and be
broken under heavy loads, without halting a while under the toil and
fatigue.
25. Bending under our heavy loads, we are tired with our long journeys
across the deserts, where we are burnt under the burning sunbeams,
without having a cool shade, to shelter our heads for a while.
26. We are big bodied like bulls with poor souls in us; we are
oppressed at every limb, and labour under our destiny by being tied as
the ringing bell, about the necks of bullocks; and the scourge of our
sins lashing us on both sides.
27. We toil like bulls labouring under the poles of the carts which
they draw along; and traverse through dreary deserts, without laying
down our bodies to rest for a moment.
28. We are always prone to and plunged in our own evils, and move on
like heavy laden bullocks with trolling and groaning all the way long.
29. Ráma! try your best to redeem by all means, this bullock of your
living soul, from the pool of this world; and take the best measures,
to restore it to its form of pristine purity.
30. The animal soul that is released from the ocean of this world, and
becomes purified in its mind by the light of truth, is no more liable
to roll in the mud, like some beasts after they are cleansed.
31. It is in the society of highminded men, that the living soul
receives the instruction, for its salvation in this ocean of the world;
just as a passenger easily gets a boat from the ferry-man to go across
a river.
32. That country is a desert where there are not learned and good
people, resembling the verdant trees of the land. The wise must not
dwell in the land, where the trees yield neither fruits nor afford
cooling shades.
33. Good men are as the flowering _Champa_ trees of the land; their
cooling words resemble the shady leaves of the tree, and their gentle
smiles its blooming flowers. Let men therefore resort to the umbrage of
such _champaka_ bowers.
34. For want of such men, the world is a desert, burning under the
darkening heat of ignorance, where no wise man should allow himself to
rest in peace and quiet.
35. It is the self that is the true friend to one’s self, therefore
support thyself upon thy self only; nor obscure the brightness of thy
soul, under thy darkness of the bodily pride, to bury thy life in the
slough of ignorance.
36. Let the learned ponder in themselves, “what is this body and how
came it to existence, what is its origin and to what is it reduced?”
Thus let the wise consider with diligence, the miseries to which this
body is subject.
37. Neither riches nor friends, nor learning nor relatives, serve to
redeem the drowning soul. It must be one’s own mind to buy its own
redemption, by resigning itself to its source and cause.
38. The mind is the constant companion and true friend to the soul; and
therefore it is by consultation with the mind, that one should seek to
redeem himself.
39. It is by a constant habit of dispassionateness and self
deliberation, that one can ford the ocean of this world, riding on the
raft of true knowledge (or the knowledge of truth).
40. It is pitiable to see the inward torments of the evil minded, that
neglect to release their souls from all worldly vexations.
41. Release the elephant of your living soul—_jíva_, from the fetters
of its egoism, its bonds of avarice and the ebriety of its mind; and
deliver it from the muddy pit of its birth place, and retire to your
solitude.
42. It is by these means, O Ráma, that the soul has its salvation;
therefore cast away your ignorance, and wipe off your egoism.
43. This is the best way that leaves the soul to its purity, that makes
you disentangle your self from the snare of your mind, and disengage
your soul from the trap of egoism.
44. It is by this means, that the lord of gods, the supreme soul is
beheld by us; and the corporeal body is regarded as a clod of earth, or
a block of wood, and not better than these.
45. The sunlight of the intellect comes to view, after dispersion of
the cloud of egoism by which it is obscured; and it is after this that
you attain the state of supreme felicity.
46. As the light of the day is seen, after withdrawal of the dark veil
of night; so you come to see the light of the soul, after removal of
the curtain of your egoism.
47. That felicitous state of the soul, which remains after dispersion
of the darkness of egoism; the same is the state of divine fullness,
and is to be adored with all diligence.
48. This state of the vast oceanlike and perfect fulness of soul,
which no words can express nor any eye can behold, is beyond all
comparison, and every colour of human attribution.
49. It is but a particle of the pure intellectual light, which gains
its stability in the devout spirit, and is then comparable with naught
beside the light of the Divinity, which shines before the internal
sight of the holy.
50. Though it is beyond all comparison, yet it is beheld by us to be in
the state of our sound sleep—_susupta_ (hypnotism), it is the state of
immensity, and is as extended as the vast extent of the firmament.
51. After extinction of egoism and the mental powers, and subsidence
of all the feelings in oneself; there arises a transcendent ecstasy in
the soul, which is styled the form of the divine or perfect joy and
blissness (paripúrnamánandam).
52. This blissful is attainable only by yoga meditation, and in the
hypnotism of sound sleep. It is not utterable by speech, O Ráma, but to
be perceived only in the heart.
53. The totality of the Divinity is perceived only by the percipience
of the mind, and by no categorial distinction of the divine essence;
without this intuitive percipience, we can have no conception of the
soul.
54. The knowledge of the soul, comprehends in itself the whole totality
and infinity together; and resides in the invariable steadiness of the
mind. It is by the shutting out the internal and external from the
senses and the mind, that the lord of lords, the divine soul appears to
our intelligence.
55. Hence follows the extinction of our desire of sensible objects,
and hence we derive the light of our supreme felicity; that we have an
even minded composure in all circumstances; which leads the souls of
the magnanimous, to revert to that inscrutable identity (which has no
convertibility in it).
CHAPTER LXV.
STORY OF BHÁSA AND VILÁSA.
Argument. Account the Lives and Actions of Bhása and Vilása or
the Sahya pupils.
Vasishtha continued:—As long as one does not come to perceive his
soul, by breaking down his mind of his own accord; and so long,
lotuseyed Ráma, one does not get rid of his egoism and meism (_i.e._,
selfishness).
2. There is no end of his worldly misery, as there is no setting of the
painted sun; and his adversity becomes as extended, as the vast ocean
itself.
3. His misfortunes are as interminable, as the succession of the waves
in the sea; and the appearance of the world is as gloomy to him, as the
face of the sky, covered by the dark clouds of the rainy season.
4. Here will I recite an old story, containing a discourse between two
friends Bhása and Vilása, in some region of the Sahya mountain.
5. Now this is a mountain mightier than the three worlds in his
superior strength. In his height he surmounted the sky, and in his
extent he got the better of the ground, and with his foot he reached
the infernal region.
6. It was fraught with various flowers, and furnished with innumberable
water falls; its precious stones were watched over by the Guhya
mountaineers, and named as Sahya or moderate being situated in the
temperate zone; yet it was intolerable as a tropic mountain (by the
intense heat on its top).
7. Its girdle of sun-stones, seemed to studded with pearls, by the
sloping beams of the sun falling upon them; and its base with its
pavement of gold, looked as the gold island (of Lanká).
8. Here a hill was full of flowers, and there another filled with
minerals; there were lakes with flowering water plants on one side, and
gemming stones lying on another.
9. Here the cascades were hurling and gurgling in foaming froths, and
there the old bamboos were blowing through their hollow pipes; on one
side the winds were howling in the mountain caves, and on another the
bees were buzzing on the clustering flowers.
10. The Apsaras were singing in concert on the mountain tops, and the
wild beasts were growling in the forests; there the birds were chirping
in the groves, and the clouds were roaring on the peaks of mountains,
while the birds of the air crying and flying about the sky.
11. The vidyádharas rested in the mountain grottos, and the black bees
were humming on the lotus beds; the border lands resounded with the
chorus of Keratás, and the woodlands were resonant with the melodies of
singing birds.
12. It appeared as the abode of the triple world, having the seats of
the gods on its top, the residence of men at its foot, and the holes of
snakes under its bottom.
13. There were the siddhas dwelling in its caverns, and precious metals
lying hid in its bosom; its sandal woods were the resort of snakes, and
its peaks were the haunts of lions.