← Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna, Vol. II

CHAPTER IV.

THE DAKSHINESWAR TEMPLE,—DECEMBER, 1882

I.

On Thursday, the 14th of December 1882, corresponding to the bright fortnight of the month of Agrahayana, Sj. Bijoy Krishna Goswami, with a few Brahmo friends, has come to visit the Master in the Daskhineswar Temple. They have reached here in a boat from Calcutta with Sj. Balaram. The Sundays are generally crowded with numerous visitors; whoever, therefore, desires private conversation with the Master, thinks it advisable to come here on week-days.

It is noon. The Master is just taking his midday rest, and is sitting on his cot. Bijoy, Balaram, M. and others are squatting on the matting and the bare floor, facing to the west towards the Master. As they sit there, the placid, limpid waters of the holy Ganga greet their eye through the western door, from beyond the semi-circular portico, flower garden and the terrace, flowing as if in joyful murmur at the supreme felicity of bathing the pedestal of the house of God.

It is the winter season and everybody is well wrapped with warm clothing. Bijoy suffers from chronic colic pain and has therefore brought his medicine in a bottle to take at the proper hour. He is still employed as a preacher in the Brahmo Samaj, though, of late, he is having differences of opinion with the Samaj authorities, but being in their payment, he has no help but to submit. He comes of a very holy family of Shantipur, the well-renowned family of Adwaita Goswami who was a great Jnani, that meditated on the Formless God, and was withal a great Bhakta, that embodied the very highest expression of devotion. One of the chief associates of Sri Chaitanya—Adwaita would dance in the intoxication of Divine Love, and in his ecstacy, he would not even know when his clothes slipped off. Such is the glorious ancestry of Bijoy! He has joined the Brahmo Samaj and consequently meditates on the formless aspect of the Lord. But the blood of his great forefather, surcharged with Bhakti, flows in his veins, and the 'seeds' of this devotion are abiding in him eager for their appointed hour to sprout forth. Hence it is that, attracted by the love-intoxication of Sri Ramakrishna, he sits enchanted for hours before him like a snake charmed and lulled into a poise by the magic incantations of the snake-charmer, drinking in the manna of Divine Wisdom that drops from his hallowed lips, and losing himself in the ecstacy of his presence. And that is why when the Master dances child-like in his rapture, Bijoy also joins him and dances. . . . . .

There was a boy by the name of Vishnu, living at Ariadah, who recently committed suicide by cutting his throat with a razor. The talk first turns on him.

Sri Ramakrishna: You see, the news of the boy's death has much aggrieved my mind. He used to come here and was a school boy. But he told me he was sick of the world. He lived for some time with relations in the western provinces; there in solitude, in the fields, forests and hills, he would constantly meditate on God. He told me he had visions of various Divine Forms.

"This perhaps was his last birth. Much of his work had been done in previous incarnations; the little that was left undone has perhaps been finished in this life.

"You must admit that we inherit tendencies from previous births. The story is told that a certain person while practising Shavasadhana^* in a deep forest for the realisation of the Mother, was frightened by horrible visions and taken away by a tiger. Now another man was hiding there in a neighbouring tree for fear of the beast. He saw all these preparations for the Mother's worship; and having got down and purified himself, sat on the corpse and began to repeat the mantram. In a short while the Mother appeared before him and said, 'I am pleased with thee; ask thy boons.' He prostrated himself at Her lotus-feet and said, 'O Mother, I want to know one thing: I am filled with astonishment at Thy action. The other man laboured so hard to collect all these necessaries, and strove so long to gain Thy favour, yet Thou wert so unkind to him. While lo! I know nothing, I have done nothing, I am quite devoid of devotion and knowledge, and yet Thou art so gracious to me.' 'My child,' replied the Mother, smiling, 'thou rememberest not thy former lives, when thou didst work and strive hard for Me. It is the merit of those austerities that has offered thee this opportunity and has brought thee My divine vision. Now ask thou thy boon.'"

^* It is a Tantrik practice in which the Sadhaka uses a shava i.e., a corpse, for his seat.

A Devotee: It is fearful to hear of suicide.

Sri Ramakrishna: It is a great sin to die by one's own hand. And one committing suicide has to be born again and again; and again and again he suffers the sorrows and tribulations of the world.

Self-immolation of the Liberated Ones.

"But it is no sin, nor can it be called suicide, to leave the body after one has found the Lord. Some prefer to dispense with it when they obtain enlightenment: verily the mould of clay is no longer necessary after the image of gold has been cast.

"It is many years since a boy from Baranagore, about twenty years old, used to visit me. Whenever he came here, he went into such a deep trance that Hride had to hold him that he might not fall down and break his limbs. He told me one day, 'I may no longer visit you; so adieu.' Some days after, I learnt that he had given up his body.

II.

"Men are said to be of four classes: (1) Bound, (2) Struggling, (3) Liberated and (4) Ever-perfect.

Four classes of men

"This world is like unto the net, the jivas are the fish, and God is the fisherman. When fishes are caught in a net, some of them try to escape by tearing through it; that is to say, they want to be liberated. These are of the 'struggling' type. But not all of them that thus strive can succeed; only a few of them leap out of the net with a splash and men cry out, 'Ah! what an escape!' These few are the 'liberated' ones. Some fish, however, are so alert and wary that they never fall into the net; Narada and other 'ever-perfect' sages are never entangled in the meshes of the world. But most fish are trapped in the net, yet they are not conscious of the danger and their imminent death; they rush headlong, net and all, into the mud to hide, with no attempt at freedom, entangling themselves in the slime instead. And there, though still within the net, they think they are secure. These verily are the 'bound' ones, strongly attached to the world, that is, to Kamini and Kanchana; sunk low in the depths of degradation, yet feeling quite happy! But to those who are seeking liberation, or have attained it, the world, verily looks like a hell. It sickens them. Therefore, after having attained knowledge and realised God, some of them give up their body. But such self-destruction, is of course, very rare.

"The fettered ones—the worldlings—are never awakened. Sorrows may assail them, frauds deceive them and dangers threaten them, yet they do not 'wake up'; even as the camel, so fond of the prickly bush and the nettle, does not cease browsing on them, though they make its mouth bleed. The man of the world suffers so much, yet in a few days he forgets everything. Perhaps his wife has died or has proved faithless. Lo! He has married again. Or perhaps his child has died; he weeps, but in a short while, everything has slipped out of his memory. And the mother of the child, who has been so much overwhelmed with grief, is again looking to her toilet and wearing ornaments and jewels. Parents are impoverished by their daughters' marriages and yet annually children are born to them. And those men, who have ruined themselves by law-suits, will still go to law. They have not the wherewithal to provide well for their children, yet they will beget more children every year!

The ways of the worldling.

"It is sometimes like the snake which has caught hold of a mole, which it can neither swallow nor eject. The worldly man perchance has come to see that there is nothing substantial in the world, that every thing is skin and stone like the Amda (hog-plum). Yet he cannot forego it and set his heart upon God.

"I know of a relation of Keshab Sen who was fifty years old; yet he was playing cards, as if it were not already high time for him to take the name of the Lord.

"There is another sign by which you can know a bound one. If you remove him from the world and place him within holy surroundings, he will lose heart and despond and pine away, even as a worm that lives and thrives on filth will die, if you put it in a pot of rice."

An intense solemnity prevails in the room.

III.

Bijoy: What must be the condition of a bound one's mind before he can aspire to Liberation?

Intense Vairagya.

Sri Ramakrishna: If, by the grace of God, he can acquire intense Vairagya^*, then only can he be released from the attachment to Kamini-Kanchana. And what is this intense Vairagya—this vehement desirelessness? 'By and by I shall realise God, but now I shall only take the name of the Lord,'—this is the attitude of feeble dispassion. But he, whose dispassion is acute and strong, longs and pants for God, even as the mother's heart yearns for her child. He never seeks anything but God, and to him the world appears as a veritable well wherein he fears he may be drowned at any moment.

^* Dispassion for the things of the world.

"His relations then seem to him like so many venomous serpents from whom he is prompted to fly away, and he does fly, too. Such is the strength of his impulse and determination that he never thinks of first settling his domestic affairs before seeking the Lord.

"Let me tell you a story. In a certain land there was once a very severe drought; therefore the husbandmen had to dig long channels to take water into their fields. Now one of them was of a very resolute temper, and he vowed one day that he would not stop digging till he had brought water into his field and connected it with the river. So he set to work, and when the time came for him to go to his bath, his daughter came with oil from her mother and said, 'Father, it is time for you to rub oil and take your bath.' But he replied, 'Go you now, I have yet much to do,' and till one o'clock in the afternoon he worked and worked and never thought of his bath. Then, his wife herself came into the field, and said, 'How is it you have not yet bathed? The dinner is getting cold. You always go to extremes. Why, you can finish your work to-morrow, or after you have had your meal.' At that the farmer abused her furiously and turned upon her with his spade, exclaiming, 'Are you an idiot? There is no rain and the crops are perishing; how will our children eat? Don't you see, you will all have to starve? I have vowed first to bring water into the field: then, only shall I think of bath and meal.' Frightened, the wife ran away, and the man digged and digged all day long till the field was connected with the river. And as he sat aside and watched the river water flow into his field with a murmuring sound, his heart was filled with a great satisfaction and joy. Then he went home, called his wife and said, 'Now give me oil and prepare a smoke'; and he bathed and ate and went to bed with a light and joyous heart.

"Such vehement determination is of the very essence of intense Vairagya.

"Now there was another husbandman who also was digging to get water into his plot of land. But when his wife went and told him to come away, as it was very late, and as he should not overdo himself, he did not demur; instantly, he laid down his spade and said, 'As you say, let us go.' [Laughter] And that man never took water into his field. Such is the nature of feeble Vairagya. Just as without strong determination the farmer could not bring water into his field, likewise, without strong determination one cannot realise God."

IV.

Sri Ramakrishna: (to Bijoy) Why do you not come here as often as before?

Bijoy: I very much wish to, but I am not free; I have accepted service in the Samaj.

'Woman' and servitude.

Sri Ramakrishna: Verily, Kamini-Kanchana deludes man and takes away his freedom. It is 'woman' that causes the need of 'gold,' and hence comes servitude. You lose your freedom and can no longer do whatever you choose.

"The priests of Govindji at Jaipore were all celibates at first and then they were firm and high-spirited; so much so, that, when one day the king of Jaipore sent for them, they refused to go, and replied that if the king had any need he might go to them. So the king and his people made all of them marry, and thereafter he had no need to send for them; for they themselves came to him, saying, 'O great king, we have come to bless you. Here are blessed flowers that have been offered to the Lord; may your majesty accept them.' And they could not help coming to him every day; they now wanted one thing or another—a dwelling house or money for rice-ceremony of their children or for their education.

"Do you know the story of the twelve hundred Nerhas^* and the thirteen hundred Nerhis? Veerabhadra, son of Nityananda Goswami, had thirteen hundred Nerhas, i.e., monk disciples. When they realised God, Veerabhadra became alarmed, and he thought, 'Now that they are Siddhas, whatever they say will come to pass and they will be a regular menace wherever they go, for if any man even unknowingly commits any wrong to them, he will surely come to grief.' So he called them and said, 'Go, finish your meditations in the Ganges and come to me.'

"These monk disciples were so mighty in spirit that, as they sat in meditation, they went into Samadhi; and the tides came and flowed over them and went, yet their Samadhi did not break. One hundred of these disciples, however, had divined the motive of their Guru, and in order to avoid disobedience to him fled away without seeing him. When the remaining twelve hundred went to him, he said to them, 'These thirteen hundred Nerhis will serve you; I ask you to marry them.' 'As you please, sire,' they replied, 'but one hundred of us are missing.' Henceforth these twelve hundred had their respective mistresses with them, and they lost all their previous puissance and spirituality. It was because of the company of women that they could not retain their spirituality; for to live with a woman is to lose one's freedom. (To Bijoy) You yourself feel how low you have sunk in servitude. And you see how these learned men, with all their vast scholarship in English, have to serve the Englishmen and be daily trampled under their boots. At the bottom of all this is 'woman'. They have married and set up a gay fair, as it were, with their wife and children, and they cannot now break it, fain though they would do it. And thus they suffer from all these insults and humiliations of servitude.

^* Nerha, of which the feminine is Nerhi, literally means "shaven-head." They were so called from their practice of shaving the head, being, as they were, monks and nuns.

"If one can invoke intense Vairagya and realise the Lord, one is no longer in danger of being attached to women. And even if he be a householder, he lives free from their attraction and has no more to fear from them. Of two unequal pieces of magnet, which will attract the iron? It is the greater one that will draw it; and God verily is the Greater Magnet, and compared to It, the magnet of woman is very, very small. What can woman do?"

A devotee: Sir, should we then hate woman?

Woman, the Mother Herself.

Sri Ramakrishna: He who has seen God does not see woman with a different eye; consequently he will not fear her. He sees clearly that women are so many parts of Brahmamayee, and so he worships them as Mother Herself. (To Bijoy) Come here, now and then,—I want very much to see you.

V.

Bijoy: The various engagements I have in the Samaj do not allow me to come here very often. But of course, I shall see you so whenever I find time.

Sri Ramakrishna: The task of a preacher is very difficult indeed. Unless you have authority from God, you cannot teach men. If you try without it, nobody will even heed you, and your words will have no power in them. Therefore by Sadhana or otherwise, first realise God. And when you have been ordained by Him, deliver lectures.

The Teacher with or without authority.

"There is a tank in those parts; they call it 'Haldarpukur.' Its banks were polluted every night and every morning the neighbours, when they came to the tank, loudly abused those unknown offenders. But nobody heeded this abuse, and the next morning the place was found dirtier still. So at last a man from the Government came and stuck up a notice saying, 'Commit no nuisance: any one doing it shall be punished.' Henceforth nobody ever polluted the place. [Laughter]

"So I say, when you have received authority from the Lord, you may become a preacher wherever you like and deliver lectures. For if He ordains you, He also endows you with power, and then it becomes possible for you to accomplish the difficult task of a teacher of men.

"A small tenant once sued a powerful Zamindar in the Court. Every one then guessed that there must be some man of power behind him, perhaps another big Zamindar, who was conducting the case. Man, poor insignificant thing! he can never teach mankind, unless he is endowed with the power of God."

Bijoy: Sir, do not sermons of the Brahmo Samaj bring salvation to man?

Sri Ramakrishna: What is man that he can hope to liberate others from the bondage of the world? He, the Creator of the illusion that bewitches the universe, He alone can grant us freedom from this Maya. He the Satchidananda, the Supreme Guide, is ou only refuge. And what man can dare hope to procure for other men freedom from this world unless he has found the Lord and received ordination direct from Him and has been empowered with His commission?

Satchidnanda, Guru and Mukti.

"As I was once passing across the Panchavati, I heard the croakings of a frog, and I thought it had been seized by a serpent. But when I was returning, long afterwards, I heard the same croakings. So I looked for it and found that it was a water-snake that had caught the frog, which it could neither swallow nor eject, and it only prolonged its agonies. And I thought, 'Oh! if a cobra had seized the frog, it would have been silenced after three croakings. But it is only a water-snake, and by seizing the frog, it has not only lengthened the sufferings of the frog, but has created its own miseries as well.

"And, indeed, if there is an efficient teacher, he destroys the egoism of his disciple at once. But if the guide, the teacher, be inefficient, it means suffering both to the teacher and the disciple: the egoism of the disciple is never destroyed, nor are his worldly ties sundered. And being as he is, in the hands of an incompetent teacher, he never attains Liberation."

VI.

Bijoy: Sir, why are we bound like this? Why do we not see God?

Sri Ramakrishna: Man's ego itself is Maya! And this Ego has hidden everything like a veil. 'Verily, with the death of 'I', all trouble ceaseth!' For if, by the grace of God, a man can once gain the knowledge that 'he is not the doer,' he assuredly becomes a Jivanmukta—('living-free') and transcends all fear.

"This Maya, that is to say, the Ego, is like unto a cloud which, though comparatively small, still veils the sun. The sun shines forth as soon as the cloud is removed: so if the Guru, in his infinite mercy, destroys our egoism, God becomes at once revealed.

"Only a few feet ahead was Rama, who is God Himself. But since Sita, that is to say, Maya, stood between, Lakshmana, the individual soul, could not see God.

"Just behold how I hide my face with this kerchief; now you no longer see me, even though I am so very near you. And verily God is nearer than the nearest; yet you do not see Him, because the veil of Maya hides Him.

"The real self of man is Satchidananda,—Existence-Knowledge-Bliss Absolute. But the Maya of the ego has imposed upon him various upadhis^*, and he has forgotten the true nature of his Self.

"The nature of man changes with each Upadhi. When a man wears a black-bordered muslin, the love songs of Nidhu Babu come naturally to his lips and he begins to play cards and flourishes a stick when he goes out for a walk. Even though a man be thin, if he wears English boots he immediately begins to whistle; and if he has to ascend a flight of stairs, he leaps up from one step to another like a Sahib. If a man holds a pen in his hand, he will go on scribbling on any paper he can get hold of.

^* "Attributes."

"Money, also, is a great Upadhi. When a man becomes rich, his nature undergoes a change, and he is no longer the same man. There was once a Brahmin who used to come here often and was very polite in his behaviour. One day, Hride and myself happened to go to Konnagore in a boat. As we landed we found a Brahmin sitting by the river, evidently enjoying the breeze. On seeing us, he said, Hallo, Thakur! How do you do?' At this tone of his address, I remarked to Hride, 'Hride! This man must have amassed wealth to address me in this fashion.' Hride had to laugh.

"A certain frog possessed a rupee which it stored in its hole. One day an elephant was going over its hole. At that the frog became so angry that it came out and acted like kicking at the elephant and said, 'How darest thou to go over my head?' Money makes one so proud.

"Egoism can be got rid of if enlightenment comes. For then one enters into Samadhi, and only in Samadhi is the 'I' obliterated. But such enlightenment it is very hard to attain.

The seven planes of the mind.

"The Vedas declare that a man can attain Samadhi—the Samadhi that destroys the ego—only when his mind has risen to the seventh plane. Where does the mind dwell ordinarily? In the first three planes. These are the sexual organ, the anus, and the navel, through which the mind is strongly attached to the world—to Kamini-Kanchana. When the mind abides in the heart, the man sees the Light of God, and cries out, 'Ah! What is this? what is this?' Next comes the plane of the throat, and when the mind dwells in it, the man longs to speak and listen only to words about God. When the mind reaches the plane of the forehead between the eyebrows, he sees the form of Satchidananda, and wants to touch and embrace It, but he cannot; even as one who sees the flame within a lantern, but cannot touch it, however much one may wish to do so. And when the mind has risen to the seventh plane, the ego is no more, the self is plunged into Samadhi!"

Bijoy: When man rises to the seventh plane and attains the Knowledge of Brahman, what does he behold?

Sri Ramakrishna: Our lips cannot express what happens when the mind reaches this seventh plane. The ship, if it once enters the 'black waters' of the sea, never returns; none can say what happens to it. How can the ship then tell the story of the sea?

"A salt doll went to measure the depth of the sea, but the moment it went into the water, it melted. Who was there who would say how deep the sea was? That which could say became one with it. In the seventh plane the mind is annihilated and man enters into Samadhi and words verily can never speak of that experience.

"The 'I' that drags you into the world and binds you to Kamini-Kanchana, that 'I' is the 'I' of great evil. It is this 'I' which intervenes and causes the feeling of otherness between the Individual and the Universal Soul.

The wicked 'I'

"If you place a stick upon the surface of an expanse of water, it will seem to divide it into two parts. But the water really is one entity, yet, because of the stick, it appears as two. The 'I' indeed is that stick. Take it off, and there remains the same one 'water' as before.

"What is this wicked 'I'? It is that which says, 'Don't they know me? I own so many millions. Who is greater than I?' If a thief steals only ten rupees from him, he first wrings it out of the man, then belabours him heartily; and, not yet satisfied, hands him over to the police and has him put in chains. "What!", exclaims the wicked 'I,' "to steal ten rupees from my pocket! How dare he?'".

Bijoy: If, till we get rid of the 'I,' we cannot be released from the ties of the world and attain to Samadhi, then it is better to take to the path of Brahma-jnana, that we may realise Samadhi. And as Bhakti Yoga is possible only with the existence of the 'I' is not Jnana Yoga preferable?

Sri Ramakrishna: Few only realise Samadhi, and transcend the Ego, but more often, it cannot be transcended. However hard you reason, it still persists in remaining, even as the peepul tree which you cut down to-day, sprouts again the next morning.

"If the 'I' must remain, let it remain as the 'servant I'. 'O God, Thou art my Lord and I am Thy servant'—live like that. And verily the 'I' of the servant and devotee of the Lord is not an evil. Too much of sweets brings on acidity, but sugar-candy is not of that kind. Jnana Yoga, the path of knowledge is very difficult,—you cannot obtain Knowledge till the body-idea is completely gone. In this Kali Yuga our mind is extremely attached to material things; we therefore cannot overcome the idea of the body or the ego. The path of Devotion is easier to follow: with sincere earnestness, sing His name and praise, and pray to Him; without doubt, you will realise Him.

"Just as a line drawn on the surface of water only appears to divide it into two parts and quickly vanishes, even so the 'servant I,' or 'the devotee I,' or 'the child I,' is only a semblance of the Ego and not real."

VII.

Bijoy: So you advise us to give up the 'wicked I'; you say there is no harm in the 'servant I'.

Sri Ramakrishna: Yes, there is nothing wrong in the 'servant I,'—in the proud feeling that 'I am His servant and devotee.' It will rather hasten your progress towards God.

Bijoy: Well, Sir, what becomes of lust, anger and the other passions of those whose 'I' is only the 'servant I'?

Sri Ramakrishna: If this disposition of theirs is sincere and real, then their passions survive as mere forms. The 'servant I' or the 'devotee I' that remains after God-realisation cannot harm any one. When the contact of the touchstone transforms a sword into gold, the sword no doubt retains its original shape, but it can no longer cut.

"When the dry branch of a cocoanut palm drops down, it leaves behind only a mark on the trunk, which indicates the spot where it once grew. Likewise the ego of a man who has realised God lives only as a mark, and his passions become empty forms and he becomes quite like a child. Sattwa, Rajas or Tamas—none of these Gunas can bind the child permanently, and its attachment for a thing is as quick as its detachment. You can cajole a five rupees worth of cloth from him in exchange for a half anna toy, though he would perhaps at first say to you, 'No, I won't, papa bought it for me.' To him everybody is the same; he cannot distinguish between who is great and who is small. He is therefore quite innocent of caste distinction. Perhaps his mother has told him to look upon somebody as his elder brother and he will readily eat from, the same dish with him though the man might be a carpenter. The child does not know hate, or what is holy or unholy.

"Some, even after Samadhi, continue to live as the 'I' of the servant or the devotee. The Bhakta, indeed, has this egoism—'I am Thy servant, Thou art my Lord. Thou art Bhagavan, I am Thy devotee'; and he retains a little of it even after he has realised God. His 'I' is not completely annihilated. On the other hand, by constantly cultivating this kind of egoistic feeling, one realises God; and this is what is known as Bhakti Yoga.

"If you tread the path of Bhakti, you may attain to the knowledge of Brahman as well. He, the Lord, is Omnipotent, and if He so wills, He can grant you even Brahma-jnana^*. But the devotees, as a rule, do not seek the knowledge of the self; they want to retain the consciousness of a servant of the Lord or that of a child of the Divine Mother."

Bijoy: Do not they who reason according to the Vedanta philosophy find him as well?

Sri Ramakrishna: Yes, one can find Him along the path of reason as well. This is called Jnana Yoga. The path of reason is extremely difficult. I have told you of the seventh plane where the mind loses itself in Samadhi. This Samadhi, this annihilation of the mind, is possible only when one fully realises that 'God alone is true, and the world is false.' But in this Kali Yuga, man's life being engrossed in the physical world how can he feel the reality of God and the unreality of the universe? This perception is possible only when the physical consciousness is overcome. Indeed it is a scarcely feasible task in the Kali Yuga to realise that 'I am neither body nor mind nor the twenty-four principles,—that I am beyond both happiness and misery and that I am unaffected by disease, grief, old age or death. However hard you may persevere in reasoning it away, your 'body-idea' invariably reasserts itself, just as a peepul tree, which you think you have cut down to its roots, sends out a new shoot the next morning. Verily the consciousness of the body cannot be killed. Hence in this age, the path of Bhakti is the easiest and the best.

^* The distinction between Brahma-jnana—Knowledge of Brahman or the Self—and the ideal of Bhakti, is that in the former, the Sadhaka realises himself as 'one with God,' whereas in the latter, he looks upon himself as seemingly separate from God, as His servant, or son, or friend, etc.

"And 'I like not to become sugar, I want to taste it.' I never wish to declare that 'I am Brahman.' I say, 'Thou art my Lord, I am Thy servant.' It is better to be plying the boat between the fifth and the sixth planes. I do not desire to cross the sixth plane and remain long in the seventh; for I have the longing to chant His holy name and sing His praise. The relation of a servant to the Lord is very good. And you know, it is the waves that belong to the Ganges; none ever say that the Ganges belongs to the waves.

"'I am He'—this is not a wholesome attitude. If any one entertains this idea before he has overcome the consciousness of the physical self, great harm comes to him, his progress is retarded and by and by he is dragged down. He deceives others and deceives himself as well, in utter ignorance of his woeful plight.

Raga-bhakti and Vaidhi-bhakti.

"But Bhakti of any sort will not do to realise God. Unless you have the Devotion of Love, Prema-bhakti, you cannot find Him. This Prema-bhakti is otherwise known as Raga-bhakti. Without love and attachment, none can attain to God. Until we have learnt to love Him, we cannot attain to him.

"There is another kind of Bhakti, called Vaidhi-bhakti—ceremonial devotion. You will have to recite His name so many times, you will have to fast and visit holy places, you will have to worship the Deity with such and such offerings and make so many sacrifices—such is Vaidhi-bhakti. And by repeated practice of these ceremonials, you at last acquire Raga-bhakti. But you must know that so long as you do not realise Raga-bhakti, you cannot realise God. You must love Him. Worldly ideas must totally vanish from your mind and your whole soul must go towards Him; only then will you reach Him.

"But some there are, who get this Devotion of Love directly: it is innate in them. They have it from their childhood, and even from their childhood they weep for the Lord. What is the ceremonial devotion like? It is like fanning to create a breeze. The breeze is what you want, fanning is only a means to that end: it is even so with the object of realising the love of God that you repeat His name, practise penance and observe fast. But if the southern breeze begins to blow of itself, you throw off the fan: likewise, when attachment for the Lord, and love for Him comes to you of itself, japam^*, penance and other rituals go away of themselves. Who indeed will perform the rites and ceremonies, now that you are intoxicated with the love of God?

"So long as your devotion does not grow into 'love' for him, it is only a raw or 'green' devotion. But when it has grown into love, it becomes the 'ripe' devotion.

"He whose devotion is green cannot retain the words of God or spiritual instructions; only the man of ripe devotion can do it. Only a piece of glass coated with silver solution can retain the impress of the image that falls upon it. But a bare piece of glass cannot retain it; even if a thousand exposures of the object be given to it, it remains the same glass as ever. Verily, no spiritual instruction will avail anything, unless there be love of God already."

Bijoy: Is Bhakti alone sufficient for finding and seeing the Lord?

Sri Ramakrishna: Yes, Bhakti alone brings His vision. But it must be ripe devotion, the Devotion of Love and Attachment, the Prema-bhakti. When you have attained this devotion, you begin to love Him in the same way as the child loves its mother, or the mother loves her child, or as the wife loves her husband.

^* 'Repetition of the Lord's name.'

How to see Him.

"When you realise this love of God, this Raga-bhakti, your old illusive connections with wife, children or relations cease to exist; only your kindness to everybody survives. When you realise this love, the world appears as a foreign land where you seem to live only to work out your Karma, just as a man whose house is in the country may have his place of business in Calcutta and he lives there in a hired house to carry on his occupation. Indeed, when you learn to love God, your attachment for the world and your worldly wisdom leave you for good.

"So long as the slightest trace of worldliness remains, you cannot see God. The damp match-sticks will not strike fire however hard you may rub them; it will be a sheer waste of sticks. A mind polluted with worldliness is verily like a damp match-stick.

"When Srimati^* said, 'I see Krishna everywhere,' her friends replied, 'How is it? We do not see him. Are you delirious?' Then she said, 'Dear friends, paint your eyes with the collyrium of love and you will see him.'

^* One of the names of Sri Radha.

"It is said in your Brahmo Samaj song,

'Who can know Thee O Lord, through rites and ceremonies, unless his heart has learnt to love Thee?

"Yea, if you can once succeed in getting this attachment, this love, this ripe devotion, you will certainly see Him both with form and without form."

Bijoy: How can we see God?

The Grace of God

Sri Ramakrishna: You cannot see Him until your mind has become pure. The mind is polluted with Kamini- Kanchana; it is covered with dirt. The magnet does not draw a needle if it is coated with mud; when the mud has been washed off, then the magnet draws the needle. Verily, the pollution of the mind can be washed away with the tears of our eyes. If, with tears of repentance, a man prays to God, 'O Lord, I shall never more sin again,' then the stains of his mind are washed off. Then God, the Magnet, attracts his mind, which is like the needle, and he is plunged into Samadhi and attains to God-vision.

"But do what you will, nothing can be achieved without the grace of God.

"And does His grace come easily to a man? You must, once for all, banish your egoism. He cannot be seen so long as you feel that you are the 'doer.' Suppose some one is in charge of the store-room; if anybody, then asks the master to give him something from the store, he says, 'there is a man in charge, why should I go there?' And, indeed, God rarely appears in the heart of a man who assumes that he is 'the doer.'

"It is only through His grace that one can see Him. He is the sun of knowledge. One single ray from Him has lighted the world with knowledge; and hence it is that we know each other and acquire varied wisdom of the world. If only He turns His light upon His face, we can have His vision.

"The sergeant goes his rounds with a dark lantern in his hand. None of the passers-by can see his face; but he, in the light of his lantern, sees all of them and they also see each other's face. If, however, any one wishes to see the sergeant's face he has to request him saying, 'Please turn the light on your own face, that I may see you.'

"Even so we have to pray to God 'O Lord, turn Thou the light of Thy knowledge on Thy own Self that I may behold Thee.'

"A house without a light betokens poverty. Hence the heart has to be illumined with the Light of Knowledge. 'Light ye, therefore the Lamp of Knowledge in your hearts, that ye may behold the face of Brahmamayee^*!"

It is time for Bijoy to take his medicine, and as he requires water to dilute it, the Master orders it to be brought to him. Bijoy cannot afford to pay for his conveyance to the Temple. Our Master, in his infinite mercy, still wants him to come to him and sends other devotees to bring him in their carriage or boat. It is Balaram who was sent to him this time, and it is he who will pay the boat-hire.

^* 'The Divine Mother.'

The day is ended. Bijoy, Navakumar, and his other Brahmo friends are returning to Calcutta with M. in Balaram's boat. By the time the boat lands at the Baghbazar Ghaut, the crecent moon, only four nights old, has risen, faintly illumining the earth with her pale rays. It is winter; the cold is setting in. And as the devotees return home, the sweet words of the Master still echo in their heart's chords and the image of his blissful countenance brightens the recesses of their soul.