to do with me. (The senses are related with the mind, and bear no
relation to the soul).
15. The stiffness of the outer organs, is the cause of their failure;
and the volition of the mind, is the cause of its disappointment; and
neither of these have the power to protect me from evil.
16. Those that believe the senses, as same with the soul, are as
deluded as they, that mistake the rope for a snake.
17. To take what is not the self for self, is equal to the taking of an
unreality for reality; want of reason produces this mistake, but right
reason removes the fallacy.
18. You my senses and thou my mind, and my living soul, are different
things, and quite separate from the unity of Brahma. The mind is the
active principle, and the intellect is passive, and so no one related
to the other. (All these have their different functions to perform).
19. But it is their union, that serves to produce the same effect, as
the wood that grows in the forest, the rope that is made of flax or
hide, the axe made of iron, and the carpenter that works for wages, do
all combine in the building of a house.
20. Such is the accidental conjunction of different things, that
becomes the efficient cause of producing certain effects, which could
never result alone, as in the case of house building just mentioned.
21. So also in the causation of the various acts of the body, as
speech and all other works; which are effected by the accidental and
simultaneous union of the different organs of the body and mind,
without the waste or impairing of any of them.
22. Thus when the forgetfulness of death and sleep, are buried in
oblivion, and reminiscence is awakened upon revivification and waking,
the inactualities are again brought to the position of actuality
(_i.e._ the inaction is changed to action, by combination of mental
and bodily activities, which are again productive of their purposed
results).
23. In this manner that great devotee, went on with his cogitations for
many years, in that solitary cell of Vindhya mountain.
24. Freed from ignorance and afar from temptation, he remained there in
perfect felicity, and ever contemplating on the means of preventing the
metempsychosis of his soul.
25. Seeing the natures of things in their true light, he avoided all
that presented a false appearance; and for fear of being misled by
appearances, he resorted to the shelter of meditation (of the intrinsic
natures and properties of things).
26. Having his option of choosing what he liked from whatever he
disliked, he was indifferent to both of them, and his apathetic mind
was elevated from all that is desirable or detestable in life.
27. And having renounced the world, and all its connections and the
society of mankind; and setting himself beyond the bonds of repeated
births and actions of life, he became one with the incorporeal unity,
and drank the ambrosial draughts of spiritual delight.
28. He seemed to sit in his lonely abstraction, in the golden grotto
of the Sahya mountain; and looked on the entangled paths of the world
below, without any desire of walking in it, or mixing in its perfidious
society.
29. Then sitting in his erect posture, he said to himself; “Be
passionless, O my impassioned heart, and rest at peace my intolerant
spirit.”
30. I bid you farewell, O ye enjoyments of the world, that have
tempted me to taste your bitter pleasures in innumerable births and
transmigrations.
31. Ye pleasures that have deluded me so long like the indulgences of
boys; behold me now placed above your reach, by the absence of desire
in my state of holy and heaven-born _nirvána anaesthesia_.
32. I hail thee, O spiritual delight, that madest me forget my past
pleasures; and I thank you ye pains! that have led me to the inquiry of
the soul with so much ardour.
33. It is by thee, O sour misery! that this blissful state is revealed
to me; and thou art to be thanked for bringing me under the cooling
umbrage of heavenly delight.
34. I thank thee Adversity! that hast revealed to me the felicity of my
soul; and I bless thee, my friend! for thy making the vanity of worldly
life known unto me.
35. O my body! that art so intimately united with myself, I see thy
union to be but a temporary one; and like the short lived amity of
interested men, who forsake their beneficient friends in a moment.
36. Thus am I forsaken by all my bodies, in my various by gone births;
and so hath my soul, forsaken them all, in its repeated transmigrations
in different forms of living bodies.
37. Even in my present state, my body brings its own ruin on itself;
by its being slighted by the soul, upon its advancement in spiritual
knowledge. (Spiritualism is deteriorative of physical powers).
38. It is no fault of mine, that the body is discontented at my
contentment; or that it should be impaired by my abstinence, and
broken down by my indigence. (_i.e._ The practice of austerities is a
preventive of bodily growth).
39. Grieve not my churlish avarice, that I have grown averse to gain;
and you must pardon me, O my fond desires, that I have become so
devoid of my wishes, and betaken myself to the virtue of _Vairágya_ or
_insouciance_.
40. I have now betaken myself to my indifference, and want to thrive
therein; and pray of thee, O thou restless concupiscence! to have no
more any concern with me.
41. And I bid my last farewell to thee, O thou deity of piety and pious
deeds! that I may no more engage myself to the performance of acts
(because acts are attended with temporary and no lasting resultants).
42. I am lifted from the pit of hell and placed in heaven, and bid
adieu to the arbour of pleasures, growing in the soil of wicked acts,
and bearing as its fruits the torments of hell.
43. I bid farewell to the tree of sin, bearing the flowers of our
punishment, whereby I was doomed to repeated transmigrations in lower
births. (Does the passage allude to the forbidden tree, which brought
death on earth, and its sequence of repeated births in endless misery?)
44. I bow down to that unseen form of delusion, which uttered the
sweet voice of a sounding bamboo, and covered itself with a garment
of leaves. (Does it mean the deluded Adam hiding his nudity under the
leaves of trees?)
45. I bow to thee my holy cell, that art my associate in this devout
devotion; and art the only refuge of this weak body of mine, after its
weary journey in the rugged paths of the world.
46. Thou wast my kind companion, and remover of all my desires; and
hast been my only shelter, after I fled from all the dangers and
difficulties of the world.
47. And thou my pilgrim’s staff, that wast the support of my aged
body and arm; I have found my best friend in thee, for thy relieving
my fatigue, and guiding my footsteps in this dangerous and cavernous
retreat.
48. I thank thee also, O my aged body! that art the prop of my life,
even in this old age of thine; when thou art reduced to thy ribs,
covering thy bloodless entrails, and thy shrivelled veins and arteries.
49. Depart now my dilapilated body, with the pith and marrow that there
yet remain in thee; and away ye excrements that were in need of my
repeated ablutions and purifications.
50. I bid adieu to all my acts and dealings in the world, which
had been the destined causes and my connate companions, in all my
transmigrations in this world. (Human actions being causes of their
repeated births, for the sake of reaping their proper retributions).
51. I next bid you farewell, O my vital airs! who kept company with me
through all my various births, and from whom I (_i.e._ my soul) will
soon fly away.
52. How oft have I passed with you to foreign parts, and reposed in the
dales and groves of mountainous tracts; how long have we sported about
the cities, and how often have we dwelt in mountain retreats. (_i.e._
The soul with its subtile body, is sempiternal and ubiquious).
53. How many times have we run to different directions, and were
engaged in various avocations of life. In fact there was no time and
place in the space of the universe, when and where we did not live
together.
54. In truth I have never done nor seen, nor given nor taken anything
apart from you; and now I bid you adieu my friend, as I must soon part
from you.
55. All things in the world have their growth and decay, and are
destined to rise and fall by turns; and so also are the union and
separation of things, the unavoidable course of nature.
56. Let this light which is visible to sight, reenter in the sun whence
it proceeds, and let these sweet scents which come to my smelling, mix
with the flowers from which they are breathed and blown.
57. Let my vital breath and oscillation, join with the etherial air;
and let all the sounds I hear, return from my ears to the vacuous
sphere. (Lit. Let me lose my audibility in vacuity which is receptacle
of sounds).
58. Let my taste or sapidity, revert to the orb of the moon whence it
has sprung; and let me be as quiet as the sea after its churning by
the Mandara mount; and as the cool hour of the evening after the sun
has set. (Gustation or flavour—_rasa_ comes from the moon. Sruti.
_Dinánta-ramya_ the cooling evening. Kalidása).
59. Let me be as silent as the dumb cloud in autumn, and as still as
the creation, after the great deluge at the end of a _Kalpa_; let me
remain thoughtless, as when the mind is concentrated in the dot of _om_
or _on_, and when my soul rests in supreme soul. Let me be as cold as
when the fire is reduced to ashes, and as extinct as the extinguished
and oilless lamp.
60. Here I sit devoid of all actions, and removed from the sight of all
living beings; I am freed from the thoughts of worldly things, and am
resting in the peace of my soul, which is seated in my cranium.
CHAPTER LXXXVII.
TERM. THE _one_ IN VARIOUS TERM.
Argument. The manner in which the sage obtained his Bodiless
Liberation after his Death.
Vasishtha continued:—Then repeating aloud the sacred syllable _Om_,
and reflecting on the Universe contained in it; the sage obtained his
internal peace, after he had got rid of his thoughts and was freed from
his desires. (The meditation of _Om_ or _on_ presented all existence
to his mind, and it is shown in the definition of that word in the
Introduction of this book).
2. He cogitated on the several _mátrás_ or moments, which compose
the utterance of that mystic syllable; but leaving aside all its
attributes, he meditated only on the reality of the pure and
imperishable One.
3. He abstracted his mind from his internal and external organs, as
also from his grosser and finer feelings and the sensibilities of his
heart and body. He dismissed of whatever there is in the three worlds
and converted all his desires to indifference.
4. He remained unmoved in his body, and as the thoughtful Platonic
(chintámani), rapt in his abstraction; He was full in himself as the
full moon, and as still as the mount Mandara after its churning was
over.
5. He was as the motionless wheel of the potter’s mill, and as the calm
ocean undisturbed by waves and winds.
6. His mind was as the clear firmament, without its sun shine and
darkness; and his heart was bright, without the light of the sun, moon
and stars. His intellect was unclouded by the fumes, dust and cloud of
ignorance, and his soul was as clear as the autumnal sky. (The gloss
points out the combination of many figures in this tetrastich sloka).
7. Then raising his voice from the ventricle, to the topmost _pranava_
in the cranium of his head; his mind transcended the region of the
sensations, as the wind oversteps the area of fragrance (which remains
below.)
8. His mental darkness then fled from his mind, as the gloom of night
is dispelled by the dawning light of morn, and as the percipience of
sapience, puts down and extinguishes the sparks of anger in the bosom.
9. He then beheld the reflexion of a flood of light within himself,
which he found to be ceaseless in its brightness; and unlike the light
of the luminaries, which is repeatedly succeeded by darkness.
10. Having attained to that state of ineffable light, and
inextinguishable effulgence; he found his mental powers to be quickly
burnt down by its glare as the straws are consumed by the touch of fire.
11. In a short time he lost his consciousness of that light, as a new
born child loses in no time, its knowledge of whatever it perceives by
any of its sensible organs.
12. It was in a twinkling or half of that time, that this sedate sage
stopped the course of his thought, as the current wind stops its motion
in a moment.
13. He then remained as fixed as a rock, with his inattentive and
mute gaze on what passed before him; and retained his vitality like a
motionless dreamer in his sleep. (Pasyanti in the text means a patient
spectator).
14. He was next lost in his _Susupta_-hypnotism, as in the
insensibility of his profound sleep; and thereby attained his ultimate
felicity of _turíya_, in the retention of his absolute felicity only.
15. He was joyous in his joylessness, and was alive without his
liveliness; he remained as something in his nothingness, and was
blazing amidst obscurity. (His soul shone forth amidst the gloom of his
mind).
16. He was intelligent in his spirit, without the intelligence of the
senses; and was as the Sruti says, neither this nor that nor the one or
the other. He therefore became that which no words can express.
17. He became that transparent substance, which is transcendentally
pure and purifying; and was that all pervasive something, which is
corporate with nothing.
18. He was the vacuum of Vacuists, and the Brahma of the Brahmists; he
was the Knowledge of gnostics, and omniscience of scientists.
19. He became like the Purusha or spirit of the Sánkhya materialists,
and the Íswara of Yoga philosophers; he was alike the Siva of the
Sivites, bearing the mark of the crescent moon on their foreheads, and
as the Time of Timeists.
20. He was the same with the soul of souls of the Psychologists, and as
no soul of Physicists; he was similar to the Midst or Midmost of the
Mádhyamikas (_i.e._ having no beginning nor end), and the All of the
even-minded Pantheists.
21. He was identified with the main Truth of every religion, and the
essence of all creeds; and was self-same with the All essential and
Universal Reality.
22. He was identic with the pre-eminent and unimpaired light, which is
seen in all lightsome bodies; and was one with the inward light, which
he perceived to be glowing within himself.
23. He became the very thing which is one and many, and which is all
yet nothing. Which is simple and combined with all, and which is that
which is _Tat Sat—Al Ast_. (Or I am that which I am).
24. In short he remained as the one undecaying and without its
beginning, which is one and many, and simple without its parts. Which
is purer than the pure ether, and which is the Lord God of all.
CHAPTER LXXXVIII.
A DISCOURSE ON YOGA MEDITATION.
Argument. The Liberated Sage’s suspension of breathing in his
breast, the emaciation of his body and absorption of his senses.
Vasishtha Continued:—After Vítahavya had passed beyond the bounds of
nature, and crossed over this ocean of misery; he pacified also the
fluctuations of his mind (after he had restrained the actions of his
bodily actions).
2. Being thus becalmed, and brought to the state of perfect inertness;
he was absorbed in his ultimate supineness, as a drop of rain water and
the particles of waves, mix in the main ocean.
3. Sitting continually in his torpid state; his body became thin and
lean, without its food and functions, and it decayed fastly like the
fading lotus in winter, without the supply of its proper moisture of
water.
4. His vital breaths fled from the tree of his body (_i.e._ from his
lungs and arteries), and entered into the cavity of the heart, like
birds let loose from the net, and flying to their nests (concentration
of vital airs into the heart).
5. His corporeal body which was composed of flesh and bones and the
organs of sense, remained of course beneath the shady branches of
the woodland retreat; but his spirit roved beyond the bounds of the
elemental worlds above.
6. His individual intellect was absorbed in the ocean of the Universal
Intellect; as the particles of metallic substances are fused together
in the same metal. So the soul of the sage found its rest in its
intrinsic nature of the supreme soul.
7. Thus have I related to you, O Ráma! regarding the rest of the sage
in his torpid quietism; all this is full of instruction, and you must
consider well the hidden meaning which is contained therein. (The Gloss
speaks a good deal about the mysticisms of yoga and the mysterious
meanings of the words tanmaya and kaivalya, which are too long to be
given in this place).
8. And know, O Ráma, that by your good gifts of these things, and
perfections, you will be able to attain to that state of beatitude.
9. Consider well, O Ráma! all that I have told you already, and what I
will at present and in future expound to you.
10. As I have myself known and well considered all these things in
my long life, and by my experience of the past, and my knowledge of
present and future events, so will you be also. (_i.e._ As he was a sage
by his long experience, and a seer by his prescience).
11. Therefore have the clear sight or _clair-voyance_ of the sage, as I
have shown to you, and know that it is by means of your transcendental
knowledge alone, that you can have your emancipation in both worlds.
(_i.e._ Perfect liberation in the present life, ensures the freedom
of the next; and bondage in this state, leads to perpetual bondage in
future).
12. The light of knowledge dispels the darkness of ignorance, and
destroys the mist of false fears and woes; and knowledge alone is the
cause of that consummation, which nothing else can bring about.
13. See how the sage Vítahavya destroyed all his desires, by means of
his knowledge; and how he cleared the mountain of his mind, from all
its poisonous plants of worldliness.
14. Again his conscious knowledge or _clair-voyance_ of other spheres,
led the seer to penetrate into the solar orb of his desire on the
wings of his rays; and thence return (by his reminiscence) to redeem
his buried body from cave of earth. (So the soul of Jesus ascended
to heaven after his crucifixion, and returned to redeem his dead and
buried body from the grave after three days. It is also recorded
of many Yogis to revivify their bodies, as it is predicted in the
holy writ, of the resurrection of all dead bodies on the last day of
judgment or _Quiámat_, when the rotten bones will stand up (quama), at
the sound of the last trumpet of the Angel. This sort of resurrection
is analogous to the daily resuscitation (jágara or waking) of animal
bodies, after their _susupta_ and _swapna_ or sleeping and waking
states of every body. But the relinquishment and reanimation of the
body, was a voluntary act of the Yogi and entirely dependant on his
free will and option. Hence the modern Yogis and Jugis, are known to
bury their dead bodies, and not to burn them like Hindus. And all this
depends on the knowledge of yoga philosophy as it is said here in the
text).
15. This sage was the personification of the mind, and it is the mind
which is personified in the sensible or visible forms of I, thou, he
and this other. (Because the mind being the essential part of man makes
his personality, and not the body which is but an appendage to the
mind). The mind is also this world which consists in it, and without
which it is not known to subsist. (The mind makes the world and is
identified with it, wherefore Brahmá the mind of God, is represented as
the maker and identic with the world).
16. By knowing this transcendent truth, and being freed from the
faults of passions and feelings, and far removed from the foibles and
frailties of the world; the silent sage followed the dictates of his
mind, and attained thereby the endless blissfulness of his soul:—the
_summum bonum_ of human life.
CHAPTER LXXXIX.
A LECTURE ON RATIONALISTIC MEDITATION.
Argument. On Freedom from Desires and Delusions, and _Aerial
flights_ of yogis, and the Indestructibleness of their bodies.
Vasishtha said:—Ráma! you must have to imitate this sage, in order
to know the nature of the soul, and all that is knowable and worth
knowing. And in order to know these things, you must be passionless,
and without the emotions of fear and perturbation of your spirit at all
times.
2. As this sage seemed to pass the course of many millions of years,
in his cheerful meditation; so you shall have to habituate yourself to
your silent contemplation, without the discontentedness of your mind.
3. There have been many more sages of great minds in their times and
places, who have had their perfection in the same way; and who are
worthy of your imitation for the consummation of your object.
4. Knowing the soul to be inaccessible by pain and pleasure at all
times, and as everlasting and ubiquitous in all places; no one, O
mighty prince! has any cause to be sorry for it (or mourn for the loss
of what is immortal in its nature).
5. There are many persons living in this world, who are well acquainted
about the nature of the soul; but no body is so sorry for the misery of
human souls like yourself (as it is related in the beginning of this
work).
6. Remain quiet and in good cheer, with the magnanimity and equanimity
of thy mind; and know thyself to be imperishable, and without any
change or regeneration.
7. No living liberated man like yourself, is ever subject to sorrow or
mirth at the vicissitudes of life; as the brave lion is never moved
from his sedateness like the changeful peacock (at the change of
seasons like the weather-cock).
8. Ráma said:—Sir, this discourse of yours, gives rise to a doubt in
me, which I want you to disperse like an autumnal cloud. (The doubt is
resembled to a thick rainy cloud, and its form is likened to that of a
flimsy mist in autumn).
9. Tell me Sir, that art best acquainted with spiritual knowledge, why
the bodies of living liberated persons, are not to be seen to mount to
the skies.
10. Vasishtha replied:—Know Ráma, the powers of mounting to the sky
and flying in the air, belong naturally to volant bodies (as the fowls
and flies of the air). (And the mounting to the sky is the property of
igneous and etherial beings, as those of the flame of fire and aerial
spirits).
11. All the various motions that are seen to act in different
directions, are according to the natural tendencies of bodies, and are
never desired by the spiritualist (who would derive no good or benefit
whatever by his bodily movements).
12. Volitation is no way desirable to the living liberated soul, when
the volant power is easily acquired by the unspiritual and unliberated
ignorant people, by many physical and artificial powers, derived by
application of proper means, mantras and other practices. (Such as, the
flight of winged ants before the rains, the aerostatics of balloons and
pyrotechnics, the aerostation of magical mantras, and the volant power
acquired by some practical Yogis, who practise the swinging of their
bodies in air, by means of the suppression of their breath).
13. Volitation or flying is no business of the spiritualist, who is
concerned with his knowledge of the soul only; he is content with his
spiritual knowledge and union with the Supreme soul, and does not
meddle with the practices of the ignorant practitioners of false _yoga_.
14. Know all earthly contrivances to be the offspring of worldliness,
and the progeny of spiritual ignorance. Say then what spiritualist
is there, that will be so foolish as to plunge himself in this gross
ignorance.
15. He who pursues the path of spiritual ignorance, by his meditations
and contrivances for his temporal welfare; must be blind to the future
welfare of his soul, against the course of the holy sage and saint.
16. It is possible for the wise as well as the unwise, to acquire the
power of his flying in the air, by the continued practice of _yoga_, or
some other of the aforesaid arts and expedients of mantras and the like.
17. But the spiritual man remains quite aloof and afar from these, and
has no desire for any such thing; he is content with himself, and finds
his rest in the supreme soul, beside which he has nothing in view.
18. He has neither the aerial journey, nor any supernatural power or
worldly enjoyment for his object; and neither is earthly glory or
honour in his view, nor does he desire to live nor fear to die.
19. He is ever content and quiet in his soul, and is devoid of desires
and affections in his mind; he is of the form of empty air, and remains
with his spiritual knowledge as the idol of his soul.
20. He is unapprehensive of adversity or calamity, and unaffected by
feelings of pleasure and pain; he has full satiety in his privation of
everything, and is unconcerned about his life and death, by remaining
himself as the living dead.
21. He remains unmoved at all evens and odds, as the Ocean is at a
stand still with all the outpourings of the rivers; and he continues to
meditate on, and adore the divine spirit in his own spirit.
22. He has no need of acquiring or amassing any wealth for himself, nor
is he in need of asking anything of any body for his supportance.
23. The unspiritual man who aims at the acquisition of supernatural
powers, must sacrifice the means of his consummation to the acquirement
of such powers. (_i.e._ He must give up the seeking of his perfection in
pursuit of those powers. Or, he who wants to wax rich and great, may
become so at the loss of his peace and content and honesty).
24. All things are accomplished by application of their proper means,
and what is thus ordained to take place, can not be undone even by the
three-eyed God Siva himself. (It is believed that some mantras and
gems are possessed of the power, of lifting living bodies in the air).
25. Thus volitation depends on the application of proper means, and not
on one’s volition only; and nothing can alter the nature of things, as
that of the coolness of moon-beams.
26. Whether one is all-knowing or much-knowing, and all-powerful
or much powerful as a Hari or Hara; yet there is no body that has
the power of setting aside the destined law of nature (as for the
terrestrials to fly in air, and the celestials to walk on the earth).
27. Thus it depends on the nature of things, Ráma! and the combination
of times and circumstances, as also the application of proper means and
mantras, that causes a mortal to fly in the air, and an immortal to
descend on earth.
28. So it is the property of some drugs, gems and mantras, to destroy
the destructive power of poison; and of wine to intoxicate the
wine-bibber; and so of emetics to cause vomiting.
29. Thus all things have naturally the power of producing some effect,
according to its proper application and the mode and manner of it.
30. Hence no one that is unacquainted with these things, is able to
effect his flight in the air; and he that is fraught with his spiritual
knowledge, has no need of these practices.
31. All knowledge relating to the properties of things, and their
application in proper mode and manner for the bringing on of certain
ends, is of no good to the spiritualist for his attaining to
spirituality.
32. He who wishes to have supernatural powers, may gain them by his
long practice; but what need has the theosophist of these practices or
powers for himself?
33. It is after his freedom from the net of his desires, that the
spiritualist attains to his spiritual state; how then can he entertain
any desire which is opposed to it?
34. Every one endeavours to present in the course, to which he is led
by the desires rising in his heart; and whether he is learned or not,
he reaps the reward of his endeavours in due time.
35. Vítahavya never endeavoured to acquire any supernatural power; all
his endeavours aspired to the gaining of spiritual perfection, which he
obtained by his devotion in the forest.
36. It is not impossible or hard, to effect the acquisition of
supernatural powers; should one persist in the course of practicing and
applying the proper means to those ends.
37. The success which attends on any body in the consummation of his
object, is entirely owing to his personal exertion, and may be called
the fruit of the tree of his own labour.
38. But these successes and consummations, are of no use to those great
minded men, who have known the Knowable One in himself: and who have
made an end of their worldly desires.
39. Ráma said: Sir I have yet another question for your explanation and
it is this, why did not the ravenous beasts of the desert, devour the
deadlike body of the devoted sage, and why did it not moulder under the
earth, by which it was covered?
40. And again how the bodiless and liberated soul of the sage, which
was absorbed in the sunlight, return to resume its dilapidated body,
which was buried in the mountain cave.
41. Vasishtha replied:—The conscious soul that believes itself to be
embodied with its mortal body, and beset by the coils of its desires
and the bonds of its affections, is here subjected both to the feeling
of pleasure and the pangs of pain.
42. But the intelligent soul which relies on its pure consciousness,
and is freed from the net of its desires, remains only with its subtile
spiritual body (which no beast or bird can devour, nor any dust or rust
can destroy). So says the Gítá:—It is indivisible and unconsumable,
and neither does it moulder nor dry up at any time.
43. Hear now, Ráma, the reason why the body of the Yogi, is not subject
to the accidents of disjunction or corruption for many hundreds of
years (under the influence of heat and cold and other casualties).
44. Whenever the mind is occupied with the thought of any thing, it is
immediately assimilated into the nature of that object, and assumes the
same form on itself.
45. Thus upon seeing or thinking of an enemy, the mind turns to enmity,
at the very sight or thought of its foe; as it assumes the nature of
friendliness, on the visit and remembrance of a friend.
46. So on seeing a hill or tree or passenger, that bears no enmity or
friendship to it, the mind remains equally indifferent towards the
same, and without any change in its disposition as it is perceived by
us.
47. Again the mind is sweetened (pleased) on relishing the sweets, and
embittered by tasting the bitter. It becomes fond of the sweet, and
averse to whatever is sour and bitter and unpalatable.
48. So when a ravenous beast comes in the sight of a dispassionate
Yogi, its envious nature is changed to dispassionateness, and it
desists from doing him any injury. (So says Patanjali, “Good company
turns the wicked to goodness”).
49. The malicious being freed from his malice, in the company of the
even minded stoic, desists from the doing of any harm, to any one;
as the indifferent wayfarer has no business to break the straggling
branches and trees growing on the way side, which the rude rustics are
apt to lop off and cut down (for the making of their fuel).
50. But the savage beast being removed from the side of the Yogi,
resumes its ravenous nature again, in the company of the rapacious and
wild beasts of the forest.
51. Hence it was that the envious beasts of the forest, the tigers,
lions and bears; as also the reptiles and creeping insects of earth,
did not molest the sedate body of the sage, so long as they lurked and
crept about it.
52. The reason why the body was not reduced to the dust of the earth
is, because the silent conscience that there dwells in common, in all
existent bodies of animals, vegetables and minerals, and abides in them
as in the person of a dumb creature; would not allow them to injure the
innocent body of the sage lying flat on the ground.
53. The spiritualised body of the Yogi, is seen to move about on
earth, like the shadow of something floating on the water.
54. Therefore the spiritual body of the sage, which was rarefied above
the elemental bodies by virtue of his spiritual knowledge, became quite
incorruptible in its nature.
55. Hear me tell you another reason, Ráma! that it is the want of
oscillation which is the cause of destruction, as it is the vibration
or breathing of the heart which is the cause of life.
56. It is the breathing of vital breaths, which causes the vibration of
the arteries, and this being stopped, the body becomes as still as a
stone.
57. He who has lost the pulsations of his heart and vital breaths, has
lost also both his vitality and mortality, and become as stones (which
are neither dead nor alive).
58. When the internal and external pulsations of the body are at a
stop, know, O well-informed Ráma! the intestinal parts are not liable
to any change.
59. The motion of the body being stopped, and the action of the heart
having ceased; the humours of the body become as stiff and inert, as
the solid mountain of Meru.
60. So the want of fluctuation, is seen to cause the steadiness of all
things in the world; and hence the bodies of sages are known to be as
quiet, as the blocks of wood and stone.
61. The bodies of Yogis therefore, remain entire for thousands of
years; and like clouds in the sky and stones underneath the water, are
neither soiled nor rotten at any time.
62. It was in this manner that this sage, who knew the truth, and was
best acquainted with the knowledge of the knowable, left his earthy
body, in order to find the rest of his soul in the Supreme Spirit.
63. Those men of great minds who are dispassionate, and know what is
chiefly to be known above all others; pass beyond the bounds of this
earth and even of their bodies, to assume an independent form of their
own.
64. They are then perfect masters of themselves, whose minds are well
governed by their right understanding; and are not affected by the
influence of their destiny or the acts of their past lives, nor moved
by their desires of any kind.
65. The minds of consummate Yogis, are of the nature of destiny;
because they can easily effect whatever they think upon, as if they
were the acts of chance as in _Kákatálíya Sanyoga_.
66. So it was with this sage, who no sooner thought of the renovation
of his body, than he found it presented before his sight, as if it were
an act of chance (or the _kákatálic_ accident).
67. When the soul forsakes its earthly frame, after the fruition of
the fruits of its passed actions is over; it assumes a spiritual form,
which is the state of its disembodied liberation, and when it enjoys
its perfect liberty in its independent state.
68. The mind being freed from its desires, is released from all its
bonds, and assumes the spiritual form of the pure soul; it then effects
instantly all that it wishes to do, and becomes all-powerful as the
great Lord of all.
CHAPTER LXXXX.
ADMONITION ON THE MIND AND ITS YOGA MEDITATION.
Argument. The Two ways of subduing selfishness; by Universal
Benevolence and want of Personality.
Vasishtha said:—After the sage Vítahavya, had subdued his heart and
mind by his rationality, there arose in him the qualities of universal
benevolence and philanthropy (for want of his selfishness).
2. Ráma asked:—How do you say, Sir, that the quality of benevolence
sprang in the mind of the sage, after it had been wholly absorbed in
itself by its rationality? (since the total insensibility of one if
himself, cannot have any regard for others).
3. Tell me Sir, that art the best of speakers, how can the feelings of
universal love and friendliness, arise in the heart which is wholly
cold and quiet, or in the mind which is entranced in the divine spirit?
4. Vasishtha replied:—There are two kinds of mental numbness, the one
being its coma in the living body; and the other its deadliness after
the material body is dead and gone. (The one is _swarúpa_ and the other
_arúpa_; the first having its formal existence, and the other being a
formless one).
5. The possession of the mind is the cause of woe, and its extinction
is the spring of happiness; therefore one should practise the abrasion
of the essence of his mind (or personality), in order to arrive to its
utter extinction.
6. The mind that is beset by the net of the vain desires of the world,
is subject to repeated births, which are the sources of endless woes.
(The world is a vale of tears, and worldlimindedness is the spring of
misery).
7. He is reckoned as a miserable being, who thinks much of his person,
and esteems his body, as the product of the good deserts of his past
lives; and who accounts his foolish and blinded mind as a great gift to
him. (Human life is usually esteemed as the best of all living beings;
and the Sástra says “the human body is the best gain after millions of
transmigrations in other forms”).
8. How can we expect the decrease of our distress, as long as the mind
is the mistress of the body? It is upon the setting down of the mind,
that the world appears to disappear before us. (As the setting sun
hides the world from our sight).
9. Know the mind to be the root of all the miseries of life, and its
desires as the sprouts of the forest of our calamities.
10. Ráma asked:—Who is it, Sir, whose mind is extinct, and what is the
manner of this extinction; say also how its extinction is brought on,
and what is the nature of its annihilation?
11. Vasishtha replied:—O support of Raghu’s race! I have told you
before of the nature of the mind; and you will hear now, O best of
inquirers! the manner of extinguishing its impulses.
12. Know that mind to be paralysed and dead, which is unmoved from
its steadiness by pleasure and pain; and remains unshaken as a rock
at the gentle breath of our breathing. (_i.e._ the man that lives and
breathes, but moves not from his purposes).
13. Know also that mind, to be as dull as dead, which is devoid of the
sense of its individuality from others; and which is not degraded from
the loftiness of its universality, to the meanness of its personality.
14. Know that mind also, to be dead and cold, which is not moved by
difficulties and dangers; nor excited by pride and giddiness, nor
elated by festivity nor depressed by poverty and penury; and in short
which does not lose its serene temperament at any reverse of fortune.
15. Know, gentle Ráma! this is what is meant by the death of the mind,
and the numbness of the heart; and this is the inseparable property of
living liberation (of those that are liberated in their lifetime).
16. Know mindfulness to be foolishness, and unmindedness is true
wisdom; and it is upon the extinction of mental affections, that the
pure essence of the mind appears to light.
17. This display of the intrinsic quality of the mind, after the
extinction of its emotions; and this temperament of the mind of the
living liberated persons, is said by some to be the true nature of the
mind.
18. The mind that is fraught with the benevolent qualities, has its
best wishes for all living beings in nature; it is freed from the pains
of repeated births in this world of woe, and is called the living
liberated mind (_Jívan-mukta manas_).
19. The nature of the living liberated mind is said to be its intrinsic
essence, which is replete with its holy wishes, and exempted from the
doom of transmigration.
20. The _Swarúpa_ or personal mind, is what has the notion of its
personality as distinct from its body; and this is the nature of the
mind of those, that are liberated in their lifetime. (This is the
nature of the individual and unembodied mind).
21. But when the living liberated person loses the individuality of his
mind; and becomes as gladsome as moonbeams within himself, by virtue of
his universal benevolence; it then becomes as expanded and extended, as
it appears to be present everywhere at all times.
22. The living liberated person being mindless of himself, becomes as
cold hearted as a plant growing in a frigid climate, where it blooms
with its mild virtues, likening the blossoms of the winter plant.
23. The _Arúpa_ or impersonal mind of what I have told you before, is
the coolness of the disembodied soul, that is altogether liberated from
the consciousness of its personality.
24. All the excellent virtues and qualities, which reside in the
embodied soul, are utterly lost and drowned in the disembodied soul,
upon its liberation from the knowledge of its personality.
25. In the case of disembodied liberation, the consciousness of self
personality being lost, the mind also loses its formal existence in
_Virúpa_ or formlessness, when there remains nothing of it.
26. There remains no more any merit or demerit of it, nor its beauty
or deformity; it neither shines nor sets any more, nor is there any
consciousness of pain or pleasure in it.
27. It has no sense of light or darkness, nor the perception of day and
night; it has no knowledge of space and sky, nor of the sides, altitude
or depth of the firmament.
28. Its desires and efforts are lost with its essence, and there
remains no trace of its entity or nullity whatever.
29. It is neither dark nor lightsome, nor transparent as the sky;
it does not twinkle as a star, nor shines forth as the solar and
lunar lights. And there is nothing to which it may resemble in its
transparency.
30. Those minds that have freed themselves from all worldly cares, and
got rid from the province of their thoughts also; are the minds that
rove in this state of freedom, as the winds wander freely in the region
of vacuum.
31. The intelligent souls that are numb and sleepy, and are set in
perfect bliss beyond the trouble of _rajas_ and _tamas_; and which have
assumed the forms of vacuous bodies, find their rest in the supreme
felicity, in which they are dissolved in the unity of the Deity.
CHAPTER LXXXXI.
ON THE ORIGIN OF THE HUMAN BODY AND CONSCIOUSNESS.
Argument. Of Desire and Breathing as the two seeds, producing the
Plant of Human Body, bearing the fruits of Worldliness.
Ráma said:—I see the stupendous rock (Brahma) filling the infinite
vault of vacuum, and bearing the countless worlds as its vast forests,
with the starry frame for its flowers and the gods and demigods for its
birds and fowls.
2. The flashing of lightnings are its blooming blossoms, and the azure
clouds are the leaves of the forest trees; the seasons and the sun and
moon fructify these arbors with good looking fruits.
3. The seven seas are the aqueducts at the foot of this forest, and the
flowing rivers are its channels; and the fourteen worlds are so many
regions of it, peopled with various kinds of beings.
4. This wilderness of the world, is beset by the wide spreading net of
cupidity; which has overspread on the minds of people, as the creeping
vine fills the vineyard ground.
5. Disease and death form the two branches of the arbor of the world
(_Sansára Mahíruha_), yielding plentifully the fruits of our weal and
woe; while our ignorance serves to water and nourish this tree to its
full growth.
6. Now tell me, sir, what is seed that produced this tree, and what is
the seed of that seed also. Thus tell me what is the original seed of
the production of the mundane tree.
7. Explain to me all this in short, for the edification of my
understanding; and also for my acquirement of the true knowledge with
which you are best acquainted.
8. Vasishtha answered:—Know Ráma! the corporeal body to be the seed
or cause of this arbour of the world. This seed is the desire which is
concealed in the heart of the body, and shoots forth luxuriantly, in
the sprouts of good and bad acts and deeds.
9. It is full of boughs and branches, and luxuriant in the growth of
its fruits and flowers; and it thrives as thickly and fastly, as the
paddy fields flourish in autumn.
10. The mind which is the seed of the body, is subject to and slave of
all its desires. Its treasure house consists of alternate plenty and
poverty, and its casket contains the gems of pleasure and pain.
11. It is the mind which spreads this net-work of reality and unreality;
as it stretches the fretwork of truth and falsehood in dreams and
visions.
12. As the dying man sees in his imagination, the messengers of death
appearing before him; so doth the mind, present the figure of the
unreal body as a reality.
13. All these forms and figures, which appear to our view in these
worlds, are the formations of the mind, as the pots and toys are the
works of clay. (The mind being the same with Brahmá; is the formal
cause of all existences).
14. There are two kinds of seeds again which give rise to the arbor
of the mind, which is entwined by the creepers of its faculties; one
kind of these is the breathing of the vital breath, and the other
is thinking or the train of its thoughts. (The text has the words
_dridha-bhávana_ or the certainty of the knowledge of its reality).
15. When the vital air vibrates through the lungs and arteries, the
mind then has the consciousness of its existence.
16. When the vital breath ceases to circulate through the lungs
and wind pipes, there ensues the insensibility of the mind and the
circulation of the heart-blood is put to a stop.
17. It is by means of the vibrations of breath and the action of the
heart, that the mind perceives the existence of the world which is as
false as the appearance of the blue sky, in the empty space of vacuum.
18. But when these vibrations and actions fail to rouse the sleeping
mind, it is then said to enjoy its peace and quiet; otherwise they
merely move the body and mind, as the wires move the dolls in the
puppet show.
19. When the body has its sensibility, caused by the breathing of the
vital air, it begins to move about like a doll dancing in its giddy
circle in the Court yard, by artifice of the puppet player.
20. The vibrations of breath awaken also our self-consciousness, which
is minuter than the minutest atom; and yet all pervasive in its nature,
as the fragrance of flowers, which is blown afar in the air by the
breath of the wind.
21. It is of great good, O Ráma! to confine one’s consciousness in
one’s self (as it is to shut the fragrance of the flower in its seed
vessel; and it is effected by stopping the breathing by means of the
practice of _pránáyáma_ or suppression of breath; as the diffusion of
odours is prevented by shutting out the current air).
22. By restraining our self-consciousness we in ourselves succeed
to refrain from our consciousness of all other things because the
knowledge of endless objects (particulars), is attended with infinite
trouble to the mind. (All knowledge is the vexation of the spirit.
Solomon’s Proverbs).
23. When the mind comes to understand itself, after it is roused from
its dormancy of self-forgetfulness (by being addicted to the thoughts
of external objects); it gains what is known to be the best of gains,
and the purest and the holiest state of life.
24. If with the vacillation of your vital breaths, and the
fluctuation of your wishes, you do not disturb the even tenor of your
consciousness, like the giddy part of mankind, then you are likened to
the great Brahmá himself (who lives and does what he likes, without any
disturbance of his inward intuition).
25. The mind without its self-consciousness or conscience, is a barren
waste; and the life of man with its knowledge of truth, is as a mazy
path, beset with traps and snares of errors and dangers.
26. The meditative Yogi is practised to the suppression of his breath
for the peace of his mind, and conducts his _pránáyáma_ or restraint of
respiration, and his _dhyána_ or intense meditation, according to the
directions of his spiritual guide and the precepts of the sástras.
27. Restraint of breath is accompanied by the peace of mind, causing
the evenness of its temperament; and it is attended with health and
prosperity and capacity of cogitation to its practiser.
28. Learn Ráma, another cause of the activity of the mind, which is
considered by the wise as the source of its perpetual restlessness; and
this is its restless and insatiable concupiscence.
29. Now this concupiscence is defined as the fixed desire of the mind,
for the possession of something, without consideration of its prior
and ultimate conditions. (_i.e._ Whether it is worth having or not, and
whether its gain will be productive of the desired object in view).
30. It is the intensity of one’s thought of getting something that
produces it before him; in utter disregard of the other objects of
its remembrance. (The gloss gives a mystic sense of this passage;
that reminiscence which is the cause of the reproduction of prior
impressions, is upset by the intensity of the present thought in the
mind).
31. The man being infatuated by his present desire, believes himself
as it depicts him to be; and takes his present form for real, by his
forgetfulness of the past and absent reality. (The present unreal
appears as real, and the past reality passes away as an unreality, as
in the case of prince Lava’s believing himself a chandála during his
dream, and so it is with us to take ourselves as we think us to be).
32. It is the current of our desire, that carries us away from the
reality; as the drunkard sees everything whirling about him in his
intoxication.
33. Men of imperfect knowledge, are led to like errors by their
desires, as a man is driven to madness by the impulse of passions.
34. Such is the nature of the mind, that it leads to the imperfect
knowledge of things, so as to view the unreal as real, and the
unspiritual as spiritual.
35. It is the eager expectation of getting a thing, which is fixed and
rooted in the heart, that impels the restless mind to seek its desired
object, in repeated births and transmigrations.
36. When the mind has nothing desirable or disgusting to seek or shun,
and remains apart from both, it is no more bound to regeneration in any
form of existence.
37. When the mind is thoughtless about anything, owing to its want
of desire of the same; it enjoys its perfect composure, owing to its
unmindfulness of it and all other things.
38. When there is no shadow of anything, covering the clear face of
consciousness, like a cloud obscuring the face of the sky; it is then
that the mind is said to be extinct in a person, and is lost like a
lotus-flower, which is never seen to grow in the expanse of the sky.
39. The mind can have no field for its action, when the sphere of the
intellect is drained and devoided of all its notions of worldly objects.
40. Thus far have I related to you, Ráma, about the form and features
of the mind; that it is only the entertaining of the thought of
something with fond desire of the heart. (Here the mind is identified
with the fond thought or wish of a man).
41. There can be no action of the mind, when the sphere of the
intellect is as clear as the empty sky, and without the thought of any
imaginary or visible object moving before it as the speck of a cloud.
42. It is called unmindedness also, when the mind is practised to
its Yoga, or thoughtlessness of all external objects, and remains
transfixed in its vision of the sole essence of God.
43. When the mind has renounced the thought of everything within
itself, and remains in its perfect coolness of cold-heartedness (_sang
froid_) of Yogis; such a mind, though exercising its powers and
faculties, it is said to be nil and extinct.
44. He whose want of desires, has chilled his ardour for anything, and
made him impassionate, is said to have become extinct, and reduced like
a rag to ashes (leaving the form without its substance).
45. He who has no desire of gain to cause his repeated birth and death,
is called the living liberated; though he should move about in his busy
career like a potter’s wheel (which is insensible of its motion).
46. They are also styled the living liberated, who do not taste the
pleasure of desire; but remain like fried seeds, without regerminating
into the sprouts of new and repeated births.
47. Men attaining to spiritual knowledge in their earthly lives, are
said to have become mindless in this world, and to be reduced to
vacuity (the _summum bonum_ of vacuists) in the next.
48. There are, O Ráma! two other seeds or sources of the mind, namely,
the vital breath and desire; and though they are of different natures,
yet the death of either occasions the extinction of both.
49. Both of these are causes of the regeneration of the mind, as the
pond and the pot (or pipes), are the joint causes of water supply.
(Wherein the want of the one, is tantamount to the loss of the other
also).
50. The gross desires of men are the causes of their repeated births,
as the seeds are causes of the repeated growth of trees; and the germ
of regeneration is contained in the desire, as the future plant is
contained in the seed, and the oily juice is inbred in the sesamum seed.
51. The conscious mind is the cause of all things in the course of
time, and the source of all its pleasure and pain, which rise and fall
in itself, and never grow without it. (Avindbhavin).
52. As the union of the breath of life with the organs, produces the
sensations; so these being united with desire, are productive of the
mind. (Hence the living and sensitive plants which are devoid of
desire, are devoid of mind also).
53. As the flower and its fragrance, and the sesamum seed and its oil
are united together; so is animal life inseparably connected with its
desire. (Hence extinction of desire is tantamount to living death).
54. The desire being the active principle of man, and subversive of
his passive consciousness; it tends to unfold the seed of the mind, as
moisture serves to expand the sprouts of vegetable seeds.
55. The pulsation of the vital breath, awakens the senses to their
action, and the vibrations of sensation touching the heart strings,
move the mind to its perception of them.
56. The infant mind being thus produced by the fluctuating desires,
and the fluctuations of vital breaths, becomes conscious of itself, as
separate and independent of its causes.
57. But the extinction of either of these two sources of the mind, is
attended with the dissolution of the mind; and also of its pains and
pleasures, which resemble the two fruits of the tree of the mind.
58. The body resembles a branching tree, beset by the creepers of
its acts; our avarice is as a huge serpent coiling about it, and our
passions and diseases are as birds nestling in it.
59. It is beset by our erroneous senses, resembling the ignorant birds
setting upon it; and our desires are the cankers, that are continually
corroding our breasts and minds.
60. The shafts of death are felling down the trees of our minds and
bodies; as the blasts of wind toss the fruits of trees upon the ground;
and the flying dusts of our desires have filled all sides, and obscured
the sights of things from our view.
61. The loose and thick clouds of ignorance overhang on our heads, and
the pillars of our bodies, are wrapped around by the flying straws of
our loose desires.
62. The small bark of our body, gliding slowly along in quest of
pleasure, falls into the eddy of despair; and so every body falls into
utter gloom, without looking to the bright light that shines within
himself.
63. As the flying dust is allayed by the setting down of the winds, so
doth the dust of the mind subside, by subsidence of the force of our
vital airs and desires. (The two moving forces of the mind).
64. Again it is intelligence or _Samvedya_, which is the seed or root
of both of these; and there being this intelligence within us, we have
both our vitality and our desires also. (The word _Samvedya_ in the
text is explained as _Chaitanya_, which is the same with intelligence).
65. This intelligence springs from _Samvid_ or consciousness; by
forsaking its universality, and retaining its individuality; and then
it becomes the seed both of vitality and velleity. (_Samvid_ the
consciousness of the impersonal self, being vitiated to the knowledge
of one’s personality, produces the mind and its selfish desires).
66. Know then your intelligence as the same with your consciousness,
and resembles the seed of the mind and its desires, both of which
quickly die away with their root, like a rootless or uprooted plant and
tree.
67. The intelligence never exists without consciousness, and is ever
accompanied with it, as the mustard seed and its oil. (Or rather, as
the oil is contained in the mustard seed).
68. The wakeful conscience gets its intelligence from its desire, as
the waking consciousness of men, views their death and departure to
distant lands in dream, from their thoughts of the same.
69. It is owing to our curiosity only, that our consciousness has its
intelligence of the intelligible (God); as it is the desire of knowing
any thing, that leads the conscious soul to the knowledge of it. (It
means simply that, understanding combined with the desire of knowing a
thing, becomes the knowledge itself. Here is a play of the paronyms,
_Samvid_, _Samitti_, _Samvedya_, _Samvedana_ and the like).
70. This world is no more than a net work of our imagination, as the
boys imagine a goblin to be hidden in the dark. (So Bacon: Men fear
death, as children fear to go in the dark (for fear of demons)).
71. It is as the stump of a tree, appearing as a man in the dark; and
like the streaks and particles of sunbeams and moonlight, issuing
through the chink of a window or wall, appear as fire: and so are all
the cognizables of our cognition (but deceptions of our senses).
72. The objects of our knowledge are as deceptive, as the appearance of
a moving mountain, to a passenger in a boat. All appearances are the
presentations of our error or ignorance, and disappear at the sight of
right knowledge.
73. As the fallacy of the snake in the rope, and the appearance of two
moons in the sky, vanish before the keen sightedness of the observer;
so the representation of the triple world, disappears in like manner,
from before the penetrating understanding.
74. The inward certitude of the illusion of the world, is what is
called the perfection of knowledge by the wise; and the knowledge of
all things whether seen before or not, is equally a delusion of the
mind.
75. It is therefore right, to rub out the impressions of consciousness
with diligence; because the preservation of those vestiges, is the
cause of our bondage in the world.
76. The erasure of these marks from the mind, is tantamount to our
liberation; because the consciousness of these impressions, is the sore
cause of repeated transmigrations in this world of woe.
77. The uninert consciousness, which is unconscious of the outward
world, but preserves the consciousness of the self, is attended both
with present felicity, and want of future regeneration also. Be
therefore unconscious of the externals, and conscious of the internal
bliss of your soul; because the wakeful soul that is insensible of the
externals, is blessed with the sensibility of its inward blissfulness.
78. Ráma asked:—How is it possible sir, to be both unconscious and yet
uninert; and how can unconsciousness be freed from and get rid of its
unavoidable supineness?
79. Vasishtha replied:—That is called the unsluggish or sensible
unconsciousness, which having its existence, dwells on nothing beside
itself; and which though it is living, is insensible of everything else
(and yet quite sensible of its own existence).
80. He is called both the unconscious and yet uninert, who has no
visible object in his consciousness; and who discharges his duties and
all the affairs of his life, without attaching his mind to them.
81. He is said to be unslumbering and yet unconscious, whose mind
is insensible of the sensible objects of perception; but yet clear
with the impressions of the knowable objects of intellectuality: and
such a person is said to be the living liberated also (who is removed
from the material to the spiritual world, has his _ajadá asamvid_ or
unslumbering unconsciousness).
82. When the indifferent soul thinks of nothing in itself, but remains
with its calm and quiet composure, like a young child or a deaf and
dumb person, in possession of his internal consciousness:—
83. It becomes then possest of its wisdom, and rests in full knowledge
of itself without its dullness; and is no more liable to the turmoils
of this life, nor to the doom of future births.
84. When the adept rests in his state of sedate hybernation, by
forsaking all his desires; he perceives a calm delight to pervade his
inmost soul, as the blueness overspreading the sky.
85. The unconscious Yogi remains with the consciousness of his unity
with that Spirit; which has no beginning nor end; and in which he finds
himself to be utterly absorbed and lost.
86. Whether moving or sitting, or feeling or smelling, he seems
to abide always, and do everything in the Holy spirit; and with
his self-consciousness and unconsciousness of aught besides, he is
dissolved in his internal delight.
87. Shut out these worldly sights from your mind, with your utmost
endeavours and painstaking; and go across this world of woes,
resembling a perilous ocean, on the firm bark of your virtues.
88. As a minute seed produces a large tree, stretching wide in the sky;
so doth the minute mind produce these ideal worlds, which fill the
empty space of the universe, and appear as real ones to sight.
(The word _sankalpa_ in the text, is used in the triple sense of
imagination, reminiscence and hope, all of which are causes of the
production of things appearing both as real and unreal).
89. When the conscious soul entertains the idea of some figure in
itself, by its imagination, reminiscence or hope; the same becomes the
seed of its reproduction, or its being born in the very form which the
soul has in its view.
90. So the soul brings forth itself, and falls into its deception by
its own choice; and thus loses the consciousness of its freedom, by the
subjection to the bondage of life.
91. Whatever form it dotes upon with fondness, the same form it assumes
to itself; and cannot get rid of it, as long it cherishes its affection
for the same; nor return to its original purity, until it is freed from
its impure passions.
92. The soul is no god or demigod, nor either a Yaksha nor Raksha, nor
even a Nara—man or Kinnara—manikin; it is by reason of its original
delusion—_máyá_, that it plays the part of a player on the stage of
the world.
93. As the player represents himself in various shapes, and then
resumes and returns to his original form; and as the silkworm binds
itself in the cocoon of its own making, and then breaks out of it by
itself; so doth the soul resume its primal purity, by virtue of its
self-consciousness.
94. Our consciousness is as the water in the great deep of the
universe, encompassing all the four quarters of the world, and the huge
mountains within it. (As the sea hides the rocks under it).
95. The universal ocean of consciousness, teems with the heaven and
earth, the air and the sky, the hills and mountains and the seas and
rivers, and all things encompassed by the sides of the compass; as its
surges, waves and billows and eddies.
96. It is our consciousness that comprises the world, which is no other
beside itself; because the all comprehensive consciousness comprehends
all things in itself (in its conscious ideas of them).
97. When our consciousness has its slight pulsation and not its quick
vibration, it is then said to rest in itself; and is not moved by the
action of outward objects upon it.
98. The seed or source of our consciousness, is the Divine Spirit,
which is the inbeing of all beings; and which produces our
consciousness, as the solar heat produces the light, and as the fire
emits its sparks.
99. This Inbeing in us exhibits itself in two forms within ourselves;
the one is our self-consciousness, and the other is our consciousness
of many things lying without us: the former is uniform and the latter
is of mutable form.
100. This two fold division of the one and same soul, is as the
difference of _ghata_ and _pata_ or of the pot and painting, and like
that of I and thou, which are essentially the same thing, and have no
difference in their in-being.
101. Now do away with this difference, and know the true entity to be
a pure unity, which is the positive reality remaining in common with
all objects.
102. Forsake the particulars only, and seek the universal one which
is the same and in common with all existence. Know this Unity as the
totality of beings, and the only adorable One.
103. The variety of external forms, does not indicate any variation
in the internal substance; change of outward form, makes a thing
unknowable to us as to its former state; but outward and formal
differences, make no difference in the real essence.
104. Whatever preserves its uniform and invariable appearance at all
times, know that to be the true and everlasting inner essence of the
thing (and not its changeful external appearance).
105. Ráma! Renounce the doctrines which maintain the eternal
subsistence of time and space, of atoms and generalities and the like
categories; and rely in the universal category of the one Being in
which all others are reducible. (All varieties blend into the Unity of
Brahma).
106. Though the endless duration of time, approximates to the nature of
the Infinite Existence; yet its divisions into the present, past and
future, makes it an ununiform and unreal entity.
107. That which admits of divisibility, and presents its various
divisions; and what is seen to diverge to many, cannot be the uniform
cause of all (hence time being ever changeful and fleeting, cannot be
the unchanging cause of all).
108. Think all bodies as appertaining to one common essence, and enjoy
thy full bliss by thinking thyself as the same, and filling all space.
109. He who is the ultimate pause or end of all existence in common,
know, O wise Ráma! that Being to be the source and seed of the whole
universe, which has sprung from Him.
110. He who is the utmost limit of all things in common, and is beyond
description and imagination; He is the first and beginning of all,
without any beginning of his own, and having no source or seed of
himself.
111. He in whom all finite existences are dissolved, and who remains
without any change in himself; knowing Him in one’s self, no man is
subjected to trouble, but enjoys his full bliss in Him.
112. He is the cause of all, without any cause of his own; He is the
optimum or best of all, without having anything better than himself.
113. All things are seen in the mirror of his intellect, as the shadow
of the trees on the border of a river, is reflected in the limpid
stream below.
114. All beings relish their delight in him, as in a reservoir of sweet
water; and anything delicious which the tongue doth taste, is supplied
from that pure fountain.
115. The intellectual sphere of the mind, which is clearer than the
mundane sphere, has its existence from his essence; which abounds with
the purest delight, than all dulcet things in the world can afford.
116. All these creatures in the world, rise and live in him; they are
nourished and supported by him, and they die and are dissolved in him.
117. He is the heaviest of the heavy and the lightest of all light
bodies. He is the most ponderous of all bulky things, and the minutest
of the most minute.
118. He is the remotest of the most remote, and the nearest of whatever
is most propinqueous to us; He is the eldest of the oldest and the
youngest of the most young.
119. He is brighter far than the brightest, and obscurer than the
darkest things; He is the _substratum_ of all substances, and farthest
from all the sides of the compass.
120. That being is some thing as nothing, and exists as if he were
non-existent. He is manifest in all, yet invisible to view; and that is
what I am, and yet as I am not the same.
121. Ráma! Try your best to get your rest, in that supreme state of
felicity; than which there is no higher state for man to desire.
122. It is the knowledge of that holy and unchangeable Spirit, which
brings rest and peace to the mind; know then that all-pervasive soul,
and be identified with the pure Intellect, for your liberation from all
restraint.
(And the way to this state of perfect liberation, is to destroy by
degrees the seeds of our restraints to the same. Namely:—To be
regardless of the body, which is the seed of worldliness; and then
to subdue the mind, which is the seed of the body; and at last to
restrain the breathings and desires, which are the roots of sensations
and earthly possessions; and thus to destroy the other seeds also,
until one can arrive to his intellectual, and finally to his spiritual
state).
CHAPTER LXXXXII.
MEANS OF OBTAINING THE DIVINE PRESENCE.
Argument. Divine knowledge and want of desires and feelings,
forming the Trivium of salvation.
Ráma said:—Of all, the seeds which you have spoken, say sir, which of
these is the most essential one to lead us to the attainment of the
supreme Brahma.
2. Vasishtha replied:—It is by the gradual demolition of the seeds and
sources of woe, which I have mentioned one after the other, that one is
enabled to attain his consummation in a short time.
3. You can relinquish by your manly fortitude, your desire for temporal
objects; and endeavour to seek that which is the first and best of
beings:—
4. And if you remain in your exclusive and intense meditation on the
Supreme Being, you are sure to see that very moment the Divine light,
shining in full blaze in and before you.
5. If it is possible for you to think of all things in general, in your
well developed understanding; you can have no difficulty to elevate
your mind a little higher, to think of the universal Soul of all.
6. O sinless Ráma! If you can remain quietly with meditating on your
conscious soul, you can find no difficulty in the contemplation of the
Supreme soul, by a little more exertion of your intellect.
7. It is not possible, O Ráma! to know the knowable Spirit at once
in your understanding, unless you think of it continually in your
consciousness. (The Divine Spirit is knowable in our spirits and
consciousness and by own intuition only).
8. Whatever thou thinkest and wherever thou goest and dost remain, is
all known to thee in thy consciousness; and so it is the conscious soul
which is the seat of God, and wherein He is to be sought and seen. (So
says Maulana Rumi:—I sought him everywhere and found him nowhere; I
looked within myself and found him there).
9. If you will but strive, Ráma, to renounce your earthly appetites;
you will get yourself loosened from all its bonds and diseases and
dangers.
10. Of all others which have been said before, it is the most difficult
task to get rid of one’s earthly desires; and it is impossible to root
them out of the mind, as it is to uproot the mount Meru from its basis.
11. As long as you do not subdue the mind, you cannot get rid of your
desires; and unless you suppress your desires, you can not control your
restless mind. (They are so interwoven together).
12. Until you know the truth, you cannot have the peace of your mind;
and so long as you are a stranger to your mental tranquility, you are
barred from knowing the truth.
13. As long you do not shun your desires, you cannot come to the light
of truth; nor can you come to know the truth, unless you disown your
earthly desires.
14. Hence the knowledge of truth, subjection of the mind, and
abandonment of desires, are the joint causes of spiritual bliss; which
is otherwise unattainable by the practice of any one of them singly.
15. Therefore, O Ráma! the wise man should betake himself, to the
practice of all these triple virtues at once; and abandon his desire
of worldly enjoyments, with the utmost of his manly efforts. (Because
it is weakness to be a dupe to pleasure, and true bravery consists in
contemning them).
16. Unless you become a complete adept, in the practice of this
triplicate morality; it is impossible for you to attain to the state
of divine perfection, by your mere devotion during a whole century.
(Because the mendicant Yogis, that are devoid both of their divine
knowledge and disinterestedness, are never blessed with their spiritual
rapture).
17. Know ye, O highminded _Muni_! that it is the simultaneous
attainment of divine knowledge, in combination with the subjection of
the mind and its desires, that is attended with the efficacy of Divine
presence.
18. The practice of any one of these, in disjunction from the others,
is as fruitless as imprecations of one’s death or derangement of
understanding (_i.e._ no one’s curse, can effect any evil on another).
19. Though the adept may be long inured in the practice of these
virtues; yet none of them will help him singly to approach to the
Supreme; as no single soldier or regiment can dare advance before the
adverse host. (Here is pun of the word, _param_ signifying both the
Supreme and the enemy).
20. These virtues being brought under the practice of the wiseman, by
his undivided attention and vigilance; will break down every obstacle
on his way, like the current of a confluence of three streams, carrying
away a rock from the coast.
21. Accustom yourself with diligence, to destroy the force of your
mind and its desires and feelings; and habituate your intellect to the
acquisition of knowledge with equal ardour, and you will escape from
every evil and error of the world.
22. Having mastered these triple virtues; you will cut asunder your
heart strings of worldly affections; as the breaking of the lotus-stalk
severs its interior fibres.
23. The reminiscence of worldliness, which is inherited and
strengthened in the long course of a hundred lives (or transmigrations
of the soul), is hard to be removed with the assiduous practice of
these triple virtues.
24. Continue to practice these at all times of your life; whether when
you sit quiet or move about; or talk or listen to another or when you
are awake or asleep; and it will redound to your greatest good.
25. The restraining of respirations also, is tantamount to the
restraint put upon your desires; then you must practise this likewise,
according to the directions of the wise.
26. By renunciation of desire, the mind is reduced to an insensible and
dead block; but by restraining your breathing, you can do whatever you
like. By the practice of the _pránáyáma_, the yogi identifies himself
with the Supreme, and can do all things as the Deity.
27. By the protracted practice of restraining the breathing, according
to the directions given by the _guru_; and by keeping the erect
posture, and observing the rules of diet &c. one must restrain his
respiration.
28. By right observation of the nature of things, we can have no
desires for any thing (which is so frail and false); and there is
nothing which is the same or remains unchanged from first to last,
except the unchangeable nature of the Deity, which must be the only
desirable object.
29. It is the sight and knowledge of God, that serve to weaken our
worldly desires; and so will our avoidance of society and worldly
thoughts (will put an end to our earthly desires).
30. Seeing the dissolution of human bodies, we cease to desire our
worldly goods; and so also the loss of desired objects, puts a check to
our desiring them any more.
31. As the flying dust is set on the ground, after the gust of the
wind is over; so the flying thoughts of the mind are stopped, when our
breathings are put to a stop: they being the one and the same thing.
(Swedenborg saw the intimate connection between thought and vital life.
He says “thought commences and corresponds with vital respiration. A
long thought draws a long breath, and a quick one is attended with
rapid vibrations of breath”).
32. From this correspondence of the motion of thoughts with the
vibrations of breath, there is heaved a large mass of worldly thoughts
resembling heaps of dust on earth. Let therefore the intelligent
men try their utmost to suppress their breath (in order to stop the
assemblage of their thoughts also).
33. Or do away with this process of the Hatha Yogis (if it be hard for
you to suppress your breath), and sit quietly to suppress your fleeting
thoughts only at all times.
34. If you want to keep your control over the mind, you will be able
to do so in the course of a long time; because it is not possible to
subdue the mind without the discipline of strict reason.
35. As it is impossible to restrain the infuriate elephant without its
goading; so it is not possible for you to curb your indomitable mind,
without the help of spiritual knowledge, and association with the wise
and good.
36. The abandonment of desires and suppression of breathing, in the
manner as hereinafter inculcated, are the most efficient means of
subduing the mind.
(The mind dwells in the brain which shares the various fortunes of
breathing; therefore the suppression of breath tends also to the
subjection of the mind. Swedenborg).
37. There are milder means of pacifying the mind, as the cooling
showers of rain set down the dust of the earth; and yet the Hatha-Yoga,
attempts to restrain it by stopping the breath, as it were to prevent
the rising of dust, by means of a breathless calm.
38. Ignorant men who want to subdue the mind, by prescriptions of the
Hatha-Yoga or bodily restraints; are like those silly folks, who want
to dispel the darkness by black ink instead of a lighted lamp. (Painful
bodily practice, is no part of Rája or spiritual Yoga).
39. Those who attempt to subdue the mind by bodily contortions, strive
as vainly as they, who wish to bind the mad elephant with a rope of
grass or straws.
40. Those rules which prescribe bodily practices, instead of mental
reasoning and precepts, are known as the patterns of Hatha-Yoga, and
misleading men to dangers and difficulties. (Because the mind alone
governs the mind, and bodily austerities have ruined many bodies and
killed many men also; and the correspondence between the states of the
mind and lungs, has not been admitted in science).
41. Wretched men like beasts have no rest from their labour, but wander
in dales and woods, in quest of herbs and fruits for their food.
42. Ignorant men who are infatuated in their understandings, are timid
cowards like timorous stags; and are both dull-headed and weak-bodied,
and languid in their limbs (by incessant toil).
43. They have no place of confidence anywhere, but stagger as the
distrustful deer in the village; their minds are ever wavering between
hopes and fears, as the sea water rising and falling in waves.
44. They are borne away like leaves fallen from a tree, by the current
of the cascade gliding below a water-fall; and pass their time in the
errors of sacrificial rites and religious gifts and austerities, and in
pilgrimages and adoration of idols.
45. They are subject to continued fears, like the timid deer in the
forest, and there are few among them, who happen by chance to come to
the knowledge of the soul. (Most men are betaken by the exoteric faith).
46. Being broiled by outward misery and internal passions, they are
rarely sensible of their real state; and are subjected to repeated
births and deaths, and their temporary habitation in heaven or hell.
(There is no everlasting reward or punishment, adjudged to the temporal
merit and demerit of human actions).
47. They are tossed up and down like play balls in this world, some
rising up to heaven, and others falling to hell-torments while they are
even here. (The gloss represents higher births as heaven, and the lower
ones as hell-torments; and since the Hindu idea of bliss is idleness,
he deems the idle life of the great his heaven. _Otia cumdignitate_).
48. These men roll on like the incessant waves of the sea; therefore
leave off the exterior view of the exoteric, and sink deep into
the spiritual knowledge for your everlasting rest. (The Hatha-Yoga
is deemed like the other modes of public worship, to belong to the
exoteric faith).
49. Remain quiet and sedate, with your firm faith in your inward
consciousness; and know that knowledge is power, and the knowing man is
the strongest being on earth; therefore be wise in all respects.
50. Ráma! renounce the cognizance of the knowable objects, and
depend on the abstract knowledge of all things in thy subjective
consciousness; remain firm in full possession of thy inner soul, and
think thyself as no actor of thy acts. Then forsaking all inventions of
men as falsehoods (_kalaná_ and _kalpaná_), shine with the effulgence
of thy spiritual light.
CHAPTER LXXXXIII.
UNIVERSAL INDIFFERENCE OR INSOUCIANCE.
Argument. Cultivation of understanding and Reason.
Vasishtha continued:—Ráma! He who is possessed of little reason, and
tries to subdue his mind as well as he can; succeeds to reap the fruit
(object) of his life (salvation).
(Neither is much learning required for divine knowledge, nor is much
purity necessary for salvation; nor is the entire want of either,
attended by its main object).
2. The small particle of reason that is implanted in the mind, becomes
by culture a big tree in time, projecting into a hundred branches in
all departments of knowledge.
3. A little development of reason, serves to destroy the unruly
passions of the human breast, and then fill it with the good and pure
virtues; as the roes of a fish fill the tank with fishes. (The seed of
reason germinates in all good qualities).
4. The rational man who becomes wise, by his vast observation of the
past and present, is never tempted by the influence of the ignorant,
who value their wealth above their knowledge.
5. Of what good are great possessions and worldly honours to him, and
of what evil are the diseases and difficulties unto the man, who looks
upon them with an indifferent eye.
6. As it is impossible to stop the impetuous hurricane, or to grasp the
flashing lightning, or hold the rolling clouds in the hand:—
7. As it is impossible to put the moon like a brilliant moonstone, in
a box of jewels; and as it is not possible for a _belle_ to wear the
crescent of the moon like a moon flower on her forehead.
8. As it is impossible also for the buzzing gnats, to put to flight the
infuriate elephant, with the swarm of bees sucking his frontal ichor,
and the lotus bushes gracing his fore-head:—
9. As it is impossible too for a herd of timid stags, to withstand in
fighting the brave lion, gory with the frontal pearls of slaughtered
elephants in his bloody chase:—
10. As it is impossible likewise for a young frog, to devour a huge and
hungry snake, which like the poisonous tree, attracts other animals to
it by its poison, and then swallows them entire:—
11. So it is impossible for the robbers of outward senses, to overpower
upon the man of reason, who is acquainted with the grounds of
Knowledge, and knows the knowable Brahma.
12. But the sensible objects and the organs of sense, destroy the
imperfect reason; as the violence of the wind, breaks off the stalks of
tender plants.
13. Yet the wicked passions and desires, have no power to destroy
the perfected understanding; as the lesser gales of minor deluges,
are not strong enough to remove the mountain. (The great deluge is
the _mahákalpánta_, and the partial ones are called the _Khanda_ or
_yuga-pralayas_).
14. Unless the flowery arbor of reason, takes its deep root in the
ground of the human mind, it is liable to be shaken at every blast
of the conflicting thoughts; because the unstable soul can have no
stability; nor the uncertain mind can have any certainty.
15. He whose mind does not stick to strict reasoning, either when he is
sitting or walking, or waking or sleeping; is said to be dead to reason.
16. Therefore think always within yourself, and in the society of good
people, about what is all this, what is this world, and what is this
body in a spiritual light. (_i.e._ Spiritually considered, the material
universe will disappear from view).
17. Reason displays the darkness of ignorance, and shows the state of
the Supreme as clearly, as when the light of the lamp shows everything
clearly in the room. (Hence reason is said to be the light of the soul).
18. The light of knowledge dispels the gloom of sorrow, as the solar
light puts to flight the shadow of night. (Knowledge is the sunlight of
the soul).
19. Upon appearance of the light of knowledge, the knowable comes to
appear of itself; as the appearance of sunlight in the sky, shows every
object on earth below.
20. That science which brings to the knowledge of Divine Truth, the
same knowledge is known as self-same with the knowable Truth itself.
21. Spiritual knowledge is the result of reason, and is reckoned as
the only true knowledge by the wise; it includes the knowledge of the
knowable soul, as the water contains its sweetness within itself.
22. The man knowing all knowledge, becomes full of knowledge; as the
strong dramdrinker turns a tippler himself. (Fullness of spiritual
knowledge is compared with hard drinking, in the mystic poetry of
orientals, to denote the inward rapture which is caused by both).
23. They then come to know the knowable, supreme spirit as immaculate
as their own souls; and it is only through the knowledge of the supreme
spirit, that this rapture imparts its grace to the soul.
24. The man fraught with perfect knowledge, is full of his unfailing
rapture within himself, and is liberated in his life; and being freed
from all connections, reigns supreme in the empire of his mind. (This
refers equally to a savant in all knowledge, to a deep philosopher, as
also to a holy man; a yogi and the like).
25. The sapient man remains indifferent to the sweet sound of songs,
and to the music of the lute and flute; he is not humored by the
songstresses, and by the allurement of their persons and the enticement
of their foul association.
26. He sits unaffected amidst the hum of buzzing bees, fluttering
joyfully over the vernal flowers; and amidst the blooming blossoms of
the rainy weather, and under the growling noise of the roaring clouds.
27. He remains unexcited by the loud screams of the peacock, and the
joyous shrill of storks at the sight of fragments of dark clouds; and
by the rolling and rumbling of the gloomy clouds in humid sky.
28. He is not elated by the sound of musical instruments, as that of
the jarring cymbal or ringing bell held in the hands; and the deep
rebellowing drum beaten by the rod; nor the wind, wired or skinned
instruments can act upon his mind.
29. He turns his mind to nothing that is sweet or bitter to taste, but
delights in his own thoughts; as the moon sheds her light upon the
spreading lotus-bud in the lake.
30. The wise man is indifferent to the attractions of beauties and
celestial nymphs; who are as graceful in their stature and attire, like
the young shoot of the plantain tree with its spreading foliage.
31. His mind is attached to nothing that is even his own, but remains
indifferent to everything; as a swan exposed to a barren spot. (The
world to the wise is a barren desert).
32. The wise have no taste in delicious fruits, nor do they hunger
after dainty food of any kind. (Here follows the names of some sweet
fruits and meats which are left out).
33. He does not thirst after delicious drinks, as milk, curd, butter,
ghee and honey; nor does he like to taste the sweet liquors at all.
He is not fond of wines and liquors of any kind, nor of beverages and
drinks of any sort, such as milk, curds, butter &c., for his sensual
delight. (But he hungers and thirsts for eternal life &c., see the
Sermon on the Mount).
34. He is not fond of the four kinds of food, which are either chewed
or licked or sucked or drunk; nor of the six flavours as sweet, sour,
bitter, pungent &c., to sharpen his appetite. He longs for no sort of
vegetable or meat food; (because none of these can give him satiety).
35. Quite content in his countenance, and unattached to every thing
in his mind, the wise Vipra does not bind his heart either to the
pleasures of taste, or tending to the gracefulness of his person.
36. The sapient is not observant of the adoration paid to Yama, sun,
moon, Indra, and Rudras and Marutas (in the Vedas); nor does he observe
the sanctity of the Meru, Mandara and Kailása Mountains, and of the
table lands of the Sahya and Dardura hills (the early habitations of
Indian Áryans).
37. He takes no delight in the bright moon-beams, which mantles the
earth as with a silken vesture; nor does he like to rove about the
groves of the Kalpa arbours, for refreshment of his body and mind.
38. He does not resort to houses rich with jewels and gold, and with
the splendour of gems and pearls; nor does he dote upon beauties with
their fairy forms of celestials nymphs, as an Urvasí, Menaka, Rambhá
and a Tilottamá.
39. His graceful person and unenticed mind, does not pine or pant for
whatever is pleasant to sight; but remain about everything with his
indifference, and the sense of his satisfaction and the fulness of his
mind, and with his stern taciturnity and inflexibility even among his
enemies.
40. His cold mind is not attracted by the beauty and fragrance of the
fine flowers of lotuses, and lilies and the rose and jasmine (the
favourite themes of lyric poets).
41. He is not tempted by the relish of the luscious fruits, as apples
and mango, jamb &c., nor by the sight of the _asoka_ and _Kinsuka_
flowers.
42. He is not drawn over by the fragrance of the sweet scenting
sandal-wood, agulochum, camphor, and of the clove and cardamom trees.
43. Preserving an even tenor of his mind, he does not incline his heart
to any thing; he holds the perfumes in hatred, as a Bráhman holds
the wine in abhorrence; and his even mindedness is neither moved by
pleasure nor shaken by any fear or pain.
44. His mind is not agitated by fear, at hearing the hoarse sound of
the sounding main, or the tremendous thunder-clap in the sky, or the
uproaring clouds on mountain tops; and the roaring lions below, do not
intimidate his dauntless soul.
45. He is not terrified at the loud trumpet of warfare, nor the deep
drum of the battle-field; the clattering arms of the warriors and the
cracking cudgels of the combatants, bear no terror to his mind; and the
most terrific of all that is terrible, _i.e._ God, is familiar to his
soul. So the Sruti:—“bhayánám bhayam, bhishanam bhishanánám”, &c.
46. He does not tremble at the stride of the infuriate elephant, nor
at the clamour of Vetála goblins; his heart does not thrill at the hue
and cry of Pisácha cannibals, nor at the alarm of Yakshas and Rakshas.
47. The meditative mind is not moved by the loud thunder clap or the
cracking of rocks and mountains; and the clangor of Indra and Airávana,
can not stir the Yogi from his intense reverie.
48. The rigid sage does not slide from his self-possession, at the
harsh noise of the crashing saw and the clanking of the burnished sword
striking upon one another. He is not shaken by the twanging of the bow,
or the flying and falling of deadly arrows around.
49. He does not rejoice in pleasant groves, nor pines in parched
deserts; because the fleeting joys and sorrows of life, find no place
in his inevitable mind.
50. He is neither intolerant of the burning sands of the sandy desert,
resembling the cinders of living fire; nor is he charmed in shady
woodlands, fraught with flowery and cooling arbours.
51. His mind is unchanged, whether when he is exposed on a bed of
thorns, or reposing in a bed of flowers; and whether he is lifted on
the pinnacle of a mount, or flung into the bottom of a fount; his mind
is always meek (as those of persecuted saints and martyrs).
52. It is all the same with himself, whether he roves on rough and
rugged rocks, or moves under the hot sunbeams of the south, or walks in
a temperate or mild atmosphere. He remains unchanged in prosperity and
adversity, and alike both under the favour and frown of fortune.
53. He is neither sad nor sorrow in his wanderings over the world, nor
joyous and of good cheer in his rest and quiet. He joys on doing his
duty with the lightness of his heart, like a porter bearing his light
burthen with an unberthened mind.
54. Whether his body is grated upon the guillotine or broken under the
wheel; whether impaled in the charnel ground, or exiled in a desert
land; or whether pierced by a spear or battered by a cudgel, the
believer in the true God remain inflexible (as the Moslem Shahids and
Christian martyrs, under the bitterest persecution).
55. He is neither afraid at any fright nor humiliates himself nor loses
his usual composure in any wise; but remains with his even temper and
well composed mind as firm as a fixed rock.
56. He has no aversion to impure food, but takes the unpalatable and
dirty and rotten food with zest; and digests the poisonous substances
as it were his pure and clean diet. (It is the beast of Aghori to gulp
unwholesome and nasty articles, as their dainty food, and thus their
stoicism degrades them to beastliness).
57. The deadly henbane and hellebore, is tasted with as good a zest by
the impassive Yogi, as any milky and saccharine food, and the juice of
hemlock is as harmless to him as the juice of the sugarcane.
58. Whether you give him the sparkling goblet of liquor or the red hot
bowl of blood; or whether you serve him with a dish of flesh or dry
bones; he is neither pleased with the one nor annoyed at the other.
59. He is equally complacent at the sight of his deadly enemy, as also
of his benevolent benefactor. (The foe and friend are alike to him).
60. He is neither gladdened nor saddened at the sight of any lasting or
perishable thing; nor is he pleased or displeased at any pleasant or
unpleasant thing, that is offered to his apathetic nature.
61. By his knowledge of the knowable, and by the dispassionateness of
his mind, as also by the unconcerned nature of his soul, and by his
knowledge of the unreliableness of mortal things, he does not confide
on the stability of the world.
62. The wise man never fixes his eye on any object of his sight, seeing
them to be momentary sights and perishable in their nature. (The
passing scene of the world, is not relied upon by the wise).
63. But the restless people, who are blind to truth and ignorant of
their souls, are incessantly pressed upon by their sensual appetites,
as the leaves of trees are devoured by the deer.
64. They are tossed about in the ocean of the world, by the dashing
waves of their desires; and are swallowed by the sharks of their sense,
with the loss of their lives and souls.
65. The growing desires and fleeting fancies of the mind, can not
overpower upon the reasonable soul, and the orderly and mannerly man;
that have found their security in peace and tranquility, as the great
body of torrents has no power to overflow upon the mountain.
66. Those who have passed the circuit of their longings, and found
their rest in the supreme Being; have really come to the knowledge of
their true selves, and look upon the mountain as it were a mite.
67. The vast world seems as a bit of straw to the wise; and the deadly
poison is taken for ambrosia, and a millennium is passed as a moment,
by the man of an even and expanded mind. (The fixed thought of a sedate
mind, perceives no variation of things and times).
68. Knowing the world to consist in consciousness, the mind of the
wise is enrapt with the thought of his universality; and the wise man
roves freely everywhere with his consciousness, of the great cosmos in
himself. (The cosmologist is in reality a cosmopolitan also).
69. Thus the whole world appearing in its full light in the cosmical
consciousness within one’s self, there is nothing which a man may
choose for or reject from his all including mind.
70. Know thy consciousness to be all in all, and reject everything as
false which appears to be otherwise. Again as everything is embodied in
thy consciousness, there is nothing for thee to own or disown as thine
and not thine.
71. Just as the ground grows the shoots of plants and their leaves and
branches, so it is in the same manner, that our consciousness brings
forth the shoots of all predicables (tatwas) which are inherent in it.
(This means the eternal ideas which are innate in the mind, and become
manifest before it by its reminiscence).
72. That which is a nonentity at first and last, is so also even at
present; and it is by an error of our consciousness that we become
conscious of its existence at any time. (This means the erroneous
conception of all things, which are really _nil_ at all times).
73. Knowing this for certain, abandon your knowledge of reality and
unreality; transcend over the knowledge of existence, and transform
thyself to the nature of thy consciousness (to know thyself only); and
then remain unconcerned with everything besides. (The transcendentalism
of the subjective over objective knowledge).
74. The man who is employed in his business with his body and mind, or
sits idle with himself and his limbs, he is not stained by anything, if
this soul is unattached to any object.
75. He is not stained by the action which he does with an unconcerned
mind; nor he also who is neither elated nor dejected at the
vicissitudes of his fortune, and the success or failure of his
undertakings.
76. He whose mind is heedless of the actions of his body, is never
stained with the taint of joy or grief, at the changes of his fortune,
or the speed or defeat of his attempts.
77. The heedless mind takes no notice of a thing that is set before
the eyes of the beholder; but being intent on some other object within
itself, is absent from the object present before its sight. This case
of the absence of mind is known even to boys (and all man).
78. The absent minded man does not see the objects he actually sees,
nor hears what he hears, nor feels what he touches. (So the sruti. “Who
thinks of that, sees naught before him, nor hears aught that he hears”).
79. So is he who watches over a thing as if he winks at it; and smells
a thing as if he has no smell of the same; and while his senses are
engaged with their respective objects, his soul and mind are quite
aloof from them.
80. This absence of mind is well known to persons sitting at their
homes, and thinking of their lodging in another land; and this case of
the wandering attention, is known even to boys and to ignorant people
also.
81. It is attention which is the cause of the perception of sensible
objects, and it is the attachment of the mind which is the cause of
human society; it is mental concern that causes our desires, and it is
this concernedness of ours about other things, that is the cause of all
our woe.
82. It is the abandonment of connections, which is called liberation,
and it is the forsaking of earthly attachments, which releases us from
being reborn in it; but it is freedom from worldly thoughts, that makes
us emancipate in this life. (Freedom in this state, makes us free in
the next).
83. Ráma said:—Tell me briefly my lord, that dost like a gale blow
away the mist of my doubts; what are these connections that we are to
get rid of, in order to be freed both in this life and in the next.
84. Vasishtha answered:—that impure desire of the pure soul, for
the presence or absence of something which tends to our pleasure or
pain, is called our attachment to the same. (The desire of having the
desirable and avoiding the contrary, is the cause of our attachment to
the one, and our unconnection with the other).
85. Those who are liberated in their lifetime, foster the pure desire
which is unattended by joy or grief; and is not followed by future
regeneration (or metempsychosis of the soul).
86. Thus the pure desire being unconnected with any worldly object,
is styled unworldly and is apart from the world; it continues through
life, and whatever actions are done by it, they do not tend to the
bondage of the soul, nor lead it to future transmigrations.
87. The ignorant men that are not liberated, in their present state
of existence in this world, entertain impure desires causing their
pleasure and pain in this life, and conducing to their bondage to
repeated transmigrations in future.
88. This impure desire is expressed also by the term attachment, which
leads its captive soul to repeated births; and whatsoever actions are
done by it, they tend to the faster bondage of the miserable soul.
89. Abandon therefore thy desire for, and thy attachment to anything
of this kind, which is at best but to the trouble of the soul; and thy
freedom from them will keep thy mind pure, although thou mayst continue
to discharge thy duties of life, with a willing mind and unenslaved
soul.
90. If thou canst remain unaffected by joy or grief, or pleasure or
pain, and unsubjected by passions, and unsubdued by fear and anger;
thou becomest impassible and indifferent.
91. If you do not pine in your pain, or exult in your joy, and if
you are not elated by hope, nor depressed by despair; you are truly
unconcerned about them.
92. If you conduct your affairs with equanimity, both in your
prosperity and adversity; and do not lose your temper in any
circumstance of life, you are truly insensible and regardless of them.
93. When you can know the soul, and by knowing it you can see the same
in yourself; and manage yourself with evenness, under any circumstance
as it may happen to thee; you are then unconscious of them.
94. Rely Ráma, in your easily obtainable _insouciance_ and stick firmly
to your liberation in this life; be passionless and even tempered, and
rest in your peace for ever.
95. That man is honourable, who is free from the feverish passions of
pride, giddiness and envy in his mind; and possessing his liberation,
taciturnity and full mastery over his organs of sense.
96. So is he who retains his equanimity and meekness of mind, in all
things which are presented before him; and never deviates from the
connate duties of his caste, to do others which bear no relation with
him.
97. One who attends to his hereditary duties, which are co-natural
with him, and discharges them with a mind freed from all concern and
expectation, is truly happy in himself.
98. Whether under the trial of troubles and tribulations, or under the
temptations of rank and prosperity; the great minded man, does not
transgress his intrinsic nature, as the Milky ocean does not tarnish
its whiteness, though perturbed under the charming Mandara mountain.
99. Whether gaining the sovereignty of the earth, or elevated to the
dignity of the lord of gods; or degraded to grovel upon the earth, or
lowered to a creeping worm underneath the ground; the great minded man
remains unchanged at his rise and fall, as the bright sun remains the
same, both in his elevation and culmination.
100. Freed from tumults and differences of faith, and exempted from
pursuits for different results, employ your great mind, O Ráma! to the
highest duty of investigation into the nature of the soul, and securing
your ultimate liberation by it.
101. Live by the clear and purpling stream of your investigation, and
you will come to rely in the undecaying and unsullied state of the pure
soul; and then by coming to the knowledge and sight of the Supreme
Spirit, by the light of your understanding; you will no more be bound
to the bonds of future births upon this earth.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Perfection of knowledge, is the Omniscience of God, and leads the
knower, to the belief of his Omnipresence. But imperfect knowledge,
leads to the belief of the Ego and the Jíva or Living God, as distinct
from the quiescent Brahma.
[2] Samádhi is described as the continual concentration of thought, by
means of which all external objects, and even one’s own individuality
is forgotten, and the mind is fixed completely and immovably on the one
Being.
[3] Note to 24. This is an allegory of the revivification of the torpid
body, by means of the solar gleams and heat.