Krishna, the beloved of Vraja, spoke with wisdom and compassion to the assembled cowherds. He instructed them to give gifts as appropriate to all, including horse-keepers, outcastes, and those who had fallen from the path. He directed that barley be offered to the cows, and then, with reverence, that an offering be made to the mountain itself. Once everyone was adorned, having eaten, anointed, and dressed in fine garments, Krishna advised that they circumambulate the cows, the brāhmaṇas, the sacred fires, and the mountain, showing their respect and gratitude. “This,” Krishna said, “is my opinion, dear one. Let it be done if it pleases you. This sacrifice is dear to the cows, the brāhmaṇas, the mountain, and to me.” Śuka narrated that, hearing these words spoken by the Lord—who, as Time itself, wished to humble Indra’s pride—Nanda and the others accepted his counsel as proper. They proceeded to do everything as Madhusūdana had said, inviting the brāhmaṇas to recite blessings and employing the prescribed materials for offerings to the mountain and the brāhmaṇas. Having properly given all gifts, respectfully offering barley to the cows, and placing the herds at the forefront, the cowherds circumambulated the mountain. The women, mounting their well-decorated carts yoked with oxen, sang of Krishna’s exploits and received the blessings of the virtuous brāhmaṇas. To inspire confidence among the cowherds, Krishna took on another form, declaring, “I am the mountain.” In this great form, he accepted the abundant offerings given by the people. Together with the people of Vraja, Krishna offered obeisance as the Self to the Self, saying, “Behold, this mountain has appeared in form and has granted us his favor.” They acknowledged that the mountain, taking on forms at will, dwells in the forest and destroys those mortals who disrespect him. Therefore, they bowed to him for the protection of themselves and their cows. Thus, prompted by Vāsudeva, the cowherds, along with Krishna, performed the prescribed rites for the mountain, the cows, the brāhmaṇas, and the sacrifice. When all was done, they returned to Vraja. Thus ends the twenty-fourth chapter of the first half of the tenth book in the Śrīmad Bhāgavata Mahāpurāṇa, the collection for the paramahaṃsas. Then, Krishna spoke further: “By perceiving me—the Self, the self-luminous one, who dwells in the hearts of all beings—within yourself by your own self, you will attain freedom from sorrow and fear. Mother, I will impart to you spiritual knowledge, which brings peace to all actions. By this, you will cross over fear.” Maitreya said: Thus addressed by Kapila, the lord of creatures, she was pleased, circumambulated him to the right, and went to the forest. She undertook a vow of silence, relying solely on the Self, wandering unattached over the earth, without fire and without a fixed dwelling. Absorbing her mind in Brahman—beyond both the manifest and unmanifest, appearing as the qualities yet itself without qualities—she realized it through single-minded devotion. Free from ego and possessiveness, beyond dualities, seeing equally and seeing her own Self, inwardly peaceful and steady in mind, she was like a calm ocean without waves. In Vāsudeva, the all-knowing Lord, the inner Self, through supreme devotion, she realized her own Self and became free from bondage. She saw the Lord present in all beings as her own Self, and also saw all beings in the Lord within herself. Freed from desire and aversion, with an even mind toward all, endowed with devotion to the Lord, she attained the state of a devotee of the Lord. Radiant with a crown, bracelets, necklace, anklets, and girdle; adorned with conch, discus, mace, lotus, garland, and the finest jewels, full of supreme splendor; bearing the Kaustubha gem on his auspicious neck, with shoulders like a lion’s, shining with unfailing glory, his form illuminated like a flawless touchstone; his abdomen marked by three lines, moving with the rhythm of inhalation and exhalation, as if the universe itself is being drawn in and released by the deep whirl of his navel; wearing a brilliant yellow garment with a golden belt over his dark hips, his thighs, knees, and shins perfectly formed and beautiful to behold; with feet shining like autumn lotuses and petals, their nails radiating light, dispelling inner darkness—the Teacher reveals his own feet, the path for those who seek to cross the darkness of ignorance. This form is to be meditated upon by those who desire purification of the self; devotion to it grants fearlessness to those who perform their own duty. The Lord is attainable by the devoted, though difficult to reach for all embodied beings; even the sovereignty of the self is considered inferior to the ultimate state of self-realization gained through exclusive devotion. Having worshipped Him, who is difficult to approach—even for the virtuous and hard to attain—through exclusive devotion, who would desire anything outside His feet? Where death, the ender of life, does not approach those who are indifferent to it, even as he destroys the universe with his might and the fierce arching of his brows. Not even heaven or liberation can be weighed against even half a moment of association with the Lord’s devotees for mortals—what then of other blessings? Therefore, O sinless one, may we have the association of those whose character is pure and compassionate toward all beings, whose sins are washed away by bathing within and without in the sacredness of Your fame—this alone is Your grace to us. He whose mind is not distracted by external objects, nor enters the dark cave of ignorance, whose mind is purified by the favor of devotion and yoga—such a sage surely perceives Your path. That in which this universe appears, and by which the universe is illumined—that reality, the supreme Brahman, the highest light, is vast like space. He who, by His own power of illusion, created this world of many forms, sustains it, and again dissolves it, remaining unchanged; the perception of difference is due to the instability of the mind—O Lord, we recognize You as self-dependent. With faith, yogis worship You alone through various rituals for the attainment of perfection; You are perceived in all beings, senses, and the mind—thus, those skilled in the Veda and Tantra know You. You alone are the primeval Person, whose power lies dormant; by that power, the modes of passion, goodness, and darkness are differentiated; from You arise the great ego, space, air, fire, water, earth, the gods, sages, and all beings. Having entered this creation by Your own power, You dwell within the fourfold body as a portion of the self; thus, the wise know that Person who, abiding within, enjoys the essence of the senses like honey. You, who are the swift chariot of time, drag all worlds with irresistible force; the elements, whose nature is inferred, are like masses of clouds, and You are like the wind—unbearable. While people, intoxicated and distracted by thoughts of action, greedily long for sense objects, You, ever alert, suddenly seize them like a snake licking up a mouse, O Death. Thus, the teachings were imparted, the sacrifices performed, and the wisdom revealed, guiding all toward the realization of the Self, the Lord who dwells within all, the ultimate refuge and source of fearlessness.