Search

(2) He whose heart is not distressed in calamities, from whom all longing for pleasures has departed, who is free from attachment, fear and wrath, he is called a sage, a man of steady knowledge.

(2) He attains peace, who, self-controlled, approaches objects with senses devoid of love and hatred and brought under his own control.

(2) Restraining them all, a man should remain steadfast, intent on Me. His knowledge is steady whose senses are under control.

(6) 'But he who has understanding and whose mind is always firmly held, his senses are under control, like good horses of a charioteer.'

(5) He that is able, while still here, to withstand, before liberation from the body, the impulse of desire and anger, he is a Yogin, he is a happy man.

(2) That wise man whom, verily, these afflict not, O chief of men, to whom pleasure and pain are same, he for immortality is fit.

(9) Surrounded by the troop of the Passions, a man should become a thousand times prouder, and be as unconquerable to their hordes as a lion to flocks of deer. Even in great stress the eye is unconscious of the sense of taste; and so, into whatever straits he may come, he will not fall into the power of the Passions. He will utterly give himself over to whatever task arrives, greedy for the work, insatiate of spirit, like one who lusts for the delight issuing from his sport. Every work is done for the sake of happiness, whether the happiness come or no; but how can he whose happiness is work itself be happy in doing no work? Desires, like honey on the edge of a razor's blade, bring no contentment in life; but what satiety can there be from the divine draughts of righteous deeds, that are blessed and sweet in their issue? Then when one work is brought to an end, he will plunge into another, as the elephant, vexed by the heat of midday, plunges straightway into the lake that he finds.

(4) Free from desire, with the mind and the self controlled, having relinquished all possessions, doing mere bodily action, he incurs no sin.

(12) But despite its fall, the whole earth cannot satisfy the lust of the flesh; who can do its will? To him who longs for the impossible come guilt and bafflement of desire; but he who is utterly without desire has a happiness that ages not. Then give no room for the lust of the flesh to swell; blessed indeed is the thing that is not imagined for the sake of its pleasant- ness. The body is a motionless thing stirred by something without, and ending in ashes, a loathsome frame of foulness; why do I cling to it? What have I to do with this machine, alive or dead? What distinguishes it from such things as clods of earth? Alas, O thought of self, thou wilt not die! Through complicity with the flesh I win sorrow, all to no purpose; it is no better than a thing of wood, and what should avail its hatred or its kindness? It feels no love when I guard it, no hate when vultures devour it; then why do I love it? I am angered when it is treated with scorn, delighted when it is honoured; but if it has no knowledge, to what end is my toil? My friends, forsooth, are they who wish well to this body; but all men wish well to their own flesh, and why are not they also my friends? So I have surrendered my body indifferently for the weal of the world; it is but as an instrument of work that I still bear it, with all its guilt. Enough then of worldly ways! I follow in the path of the Wise, remembering the Discourse upon Heedfulness and putting away sloth. To overcome the power of darkness I concentre my thought, drawing the spirit away from vain paths and fixing it straightly upon its stay.

(6) Serene-minded, fearless, firm in the vow of godly life, having restrained the mind, thinking on Me, and balanced, let him sit, looking up to Me as the Supreme.

(2) Therefore, O mighty-armed, his knowledge is steady whose senses have been entirely restrained from sense-objects.

(14) He to whom pain and pleasure are alike, who dwells in the Self, to whom a clod of earth and stone and gold are alike, to whom the dear and the undear are alike, who is a man of wisdom, to whom censure and praise are same;

(2) That man attains peace, who, abandoning all desires, moves about without attachment, without selfishness, without vanity.

(6) To him whose food and recreation are moderate, whose exertion in actions is moderate, whose sleep and waking are moderate, to him accrues Yoga which is destructive of pain.

(6) The self-controlled and serene man's Supreme Self is steadfast in cold and heat, in pleasure and pain, as also in honour and disgrace.

(6) The Yogin whose self is satisfied with knowledge and wisdom, who remains unshaken, who has conquered the senses, he is said to be a saint, — for whom a lump of earth, a stone and gold are equal.

(5) He who is equipped with Yoga, whose mind is quite pure, by whom the self has been conquered, whose senses have been subdued, whose Self has become the Self of all beings, — though doing, he is not tainted.

(1) Now he who is patient will seek for strength, for in strength lies Enlightenment. Without strength there is no righteous work, as without the wind there is no motion. And what is strength? Vigour hi well-doing. What is its contrary called? Faintness, clinging to base things, despair, self-contempt. From inaction, delight in pleasure, slumber, and eagerness for repose springs a spirit that feels no horror at the miseries of life, and from this arises faintness. Pursued by the Passions, those fishers, thou hast come into the net of Birth, and knowest thou not that this selfsame day thou hast fallen into the jaws of Death? Seest thou not thy comrades smitten down one after the other? and withal thou fallest into slumber like a bullock in the butcher's hands. Watched by the Death-god, thy ways hemmed in on every side, how canst thou find delight in food, how canst thou sleep and love? Wait a little while, until Death shall have gathered his instruments, and he will come swiftly upon thee; then it will be an ill time for thee to cast off thy faintness, and what wilt thou do? " This work untouched, this begun, this standing half-done — and lo! Death has suddenly fallen upon me! Alas, I am undone! " Such will be thy thoughts, whilst thou lookest upon thy despairing kinsmen with their eyes swollen and red with tears in the passion of their grief, and upon the faces of the Death-god's messengers, whilst thou liest racked by the memory of thy sins, hearing the noises of hell, altogether overwhelmed— and oh, what wilt thou do?

(14) He who, seated as a neutral, is not moved by gunas; who, thinking that gunas act, is firm and moves not;

(3) The thought thus must be kept ever under watch; I must always be as if without carnal sense, like a thing of wood. The eyes must never glance around without object; their gaze should always be downward, as if in meditation. But sometimes, to rest his gaze, one may look around him; he sees [strangers] as mere phantoms, but will turn his eyes upon them to bid them welcome. On the road, and other such places, he will look from time to time to the four quarters of space, to take note of danger; he will rest and turn round to look about him. He will go forward or backward with heed, and in all conditions do what he has to do with understanding. In every act that he undertakes he will consider the due posture of his body, and from time to time will look to see how it is. He will watch with great heed the wild elephant of his thought, so that it remain bound to the stout stake of holy meditation and become not loosed. He will watch to see where his mind is moving, so that it may not even for an instant cast off the yoke of rapt devotion....