The sacred guest, Agni, is present in the household, his very being woven into the fabric of the ritual. His hairs are the Sāman hymns, his heart is said to be the Yajus, and the kindling that covers him is his garment. When the lord of the house, the master of guests, gazes upon those who come as guests, he beholds the very dwelling-place of the gods. In this sacred encounter, when the host speaks, undertakes consecration, asks for water, or leads forth the waters, these acts are not mere hospitality—they are echoes of the divine rites. The waters brought forth for the guest are the very waters of sacrifice; every offering made, and every Agniṣomīya animal slain, is a reflection of the sacred act itself. When the host prepares places for his guests to sit, he is preparing the very seats and offering-holders of the ritual. The sacred grass spread for the guests is the same grass spread for the gods; the upper covering brought forth is a means to secure the heavenly world. The cushions offered to guests are like the enclosing sticks of the fire altar, and the anointing given is the clarified butter of sacrifice. Even the small acts of hospitality—what is brought before the meal for tasting—are the puroḍāśa offerings, and when the meal is called for, it is as if the offerings themselves are summoned. The rice and barley measured out for the guests are the ritual portions; the mortars and pestles used are the pressing stones of the Soma sacrifice. The winnowing basket is the purifier, the husks are the embers, and the sieves are the waters—every household implement transforms into a sacred tool. The ladle, spoon, vessel for seeing, strainer, troughs, jars, and wind-related vessels are the black antelope skin, sanctified by use. When the host looks at the food to be served, wishing for abundance, he honors the guest as he would the sacrificer or priest. By saying, “Bring more,” he increases the vital breath, drawing nearer the offerings and making them pleasing. Among those present, it is the guest who offers on his own behalf, with ladle in hand, with the vital breath, at the sacrificial post, using the sacrificial implement, and uttering “vaṣaṭ.” The priests, whether dear or not, lead the guest toward the heavenly world. Therefore, one who understands this should not eat in hatred, nor eat the food of someone who hates, or of someone unexamined or examining. All the sin of eating falls upon the one whose food is eaten; none falls upon him whose food is not eaten. Always, with the pressing stone ready, the moist purifier, and the extended sacrifice, the offering is brought for the one who has prepared the sacrifice. The sacrifice of the one who brings the offering extends from Prajāpati himself, and such a one follows in the footsteps of Prajāpati. The fire for the guest is the Āhavanīya; the household fire is the Gārhapatya; and the fire in which food is cooked is the Dakṣiṇāgni. If anyone eats before the guest, he takes for himself both the merit of sacrifice and charitable works, the milk and the essence, nourishment and abundance, offspring and cattle, fame and renown, prosperity and understanding. The guest, especially the learned Brahmin, is truly Agni; thus, one must not eat before him. Only after the guest has eaten should one partake of the meal, for this preserves the sacrifice’s essence and unbroken continuity; such is the rule. Whatever is especially delicious—be it curds, milk, or meat—should never be eaten before the guest. One who, knowing this, offers milk with the oblation, gains all the prosperity of the Agniṣṭoma sacrifice; one who offers clarified butter in the same way attains the prosperity of the Atirātra sacrifice. Such is the sacred law of honoring the guest, wherein every act of hospitality becomes the very act of sacrifice itself.