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214
THE INDIAN ANTIQUARY.
[AUGUST, 1897.
The Bhagavad Gita says that there are four classes of men who seek refuge in God: the oppressed, those who seek truth, such as are impelled by good and the wise. Of these, it says, the wise man who in uninterrupted devotion consecrates himself wholly to the One, is the best, for he loves God above everything, and God loves him. So here, the man who by atmasanyama yôga, poepa mach as Plotinus hath it, has found the vanity of this passing world, gives up wealth and earthly enjoyment for the deep, quiet gladness of a soul set free in God. With the great poet of the Middle Age he feels
La sua voluntade e nostra pace,
Cio ch'ella cria e che natura face ! His will having become one with the supreme Will, he discovers the Divine in all his fellows and can never again look with contempt upon any member of the human race. Indeed, to the true yôgin it must ever be a matter of profound sorrow, that any of God's creatures should so put out the light that is in them, as to be fit for nothing but those depths of sunless gloom where dwell those of whom Dante used to say: non ragioniam di lor, ma guarda e passa!
And so the seer passes from Parusha to Prâna, from Skambha to Ucchishta until the goal is reached - Isa, Lord of all, in whom he lives and moves and has his being. He discovers the meaning of Creation and sees how, from the foundation of the world, the All-Father has been assigning to His children their stations and duties.
But the materialists, who see nothing in the dawn upon Himála peaks, in the brooding blue of the star-strewn sky bot a chance. concatenation of a congeries of atoms; who can behold, unmoved, the abundance of Nature in the tropical forest at noonday, who can watch the flight of a swallow, the play of the breeze in the summer-grass or the dainty dance of a shiring sea and still proclaim: No God!' are of all most men miserable. We can almost hear the Rishi weep as he utters these sorrowful álókas ! And, indeed, if this were the last word of Indian wisdom we tou might shed the tear for Aryavarta. But it is not. As in the Kabbala the devout Hebrew finds Ant to be the secret name of God, so here the Rishi rests at last in the great Aham, and the Upanishad ends with the exquisite thonght of the unfolding of the infinite Spirit Om, Kham, Brahma - whose face is hidden in the golden veil of Truth!
By Om protected may we be ;
'Mid all our study, till it cease, Be softly chanted : peace ! peace ! peace ! Illumined in serenity!
O dweller 'neath these nether skies,
To see how all things in accord
Proclaim: the world is in the Lord' Abandon wealth and lift thine eyes! For life, if thine a hundred years,
Must be naught else but faithful deed
Without a thought of praise or meed, Escaping penitential tears! To sunless regions 'neath the ground,
Where dark and lonesome spirits hide, Go slayers of the soul, who slide From depth to depth without a sound! More hidden, more soul-piercing far
Than sight or hearing, taste or touch
Is He, the great first Spirit, such As only sages know, fixed as the primal Star!
