Just as a man leaves behind his sleeping, breathing body, yet continues to experience the results of his actions—whether with that body or another—so does the soul journey onward, reaping the fruits of deeds from life to life. Whatever a person identifies with, thinking, “I am this,” and whatever he grasps with his mind, he inevitably attains the results of those actions, which lead to rebirth. The existence of the mind itself is inferred from the activities of the senses, both those of knowledge and those of action. In the same manner, the movements and tendencies of the mind reveal the actions performed in previous bodies. There are times, with this very body, when one has neither experienced nor seen nor heard a particular thing, yet that form or impression may arise within, as it is hidden deep inside oneself. Therefore, O King, the embodied soul comes to possess a form that arises from the body, yet the true meaning of that form—never directly experienced—cannot be wholly grasped by the mind. It is the mind alone that reveals to a person the forms he has taken before, the forms he will assume, and even those he will never become—may you be blessed with this understanding. Sometimes, things never seen or heard before appear suddenly in the mind. Thus, one should infer, according to place, time, and action, the existence of previous experiences. All objects accessible to the mind and senses come and go in a repeated sequence, and this is the shared experience of all living beings. But when the mind is fixed solely in sattva—pure goodness—resting near the Lord, then, just as the shadow on the moon is dispelled by light, all darkness is driven away and everything is illumined. The sense of “I” and “mine” is interrupted in a person only when the arrangement of intellect, mind, senses, and qualities—which is without beginning—ceases to function. In sleep, fainting, and suffering—when the breath is disrupted—the awareness “I am” does not arise, not even in the burning pain of death. In the womb and in childhood, due to immaturity, the subtle body with its eleven faculties is not manifest, just as the moon is hidden in its new phase. Even when the object of thought is absent, the cycle of mental activity does not cease. As one contemplates objects, misfortune may arise in dreams, though dreams are unreal. Thus, the subtle body, composed of five elements and expanded into three and sixteen divisions, when joined with consciousness, is known as the living being. By means of this subtle body, a person takes up and abandons physical forms, and through it experiences joy and sorrow, fear and pain, happiness and distress. Just as a leech clings to grass and water, neither fully departing nor fully remaining, so too does a person not abandon identification with the body, even at the moment of death. The unseen subtle self does not perish like the visible body, but exists in another way, like a dream. Past, present, and future—all these sleep within, day and night. When one continually contemplates actions performed by the senses, as long as ignorance persists in action, bondage arises for the soul that is not truly the self. Therefore, to be liberated from this bondage, worship Lord Hari with all your being, seeing the universe as His own form—from whom arise creation, maintenance, and dissolution. Maitreya continued: The foremost devotee, the sage Nārada, having shown the path of the swans and bidding farewell to the sons of King Prācīnabarhī, then departed for Siddhaloka. King Prācīnabarhī, the royal sage, having instructed his sons in their duties toward creation, went to the hermitage of Kapila to perform austerities. There, with a mind fixed in one-pointed concentration, he worshipped the lotus feet of Govinda. Freed from all attachment, he attained likeness with the Lord through unwavering devotion. O sinless one, this teaching on the transcendental Self was sung by the divine sage; whoever recites or hears it is liberated from the bonds of material existence. This purifying glory of Mukunda, which sanctifies the world, has flowed from the lips of the greatest sage, embodying the purity of the Self. Whoever hears it recited attains the supreme state and, freed from all bondage, no longer wanders in this world. This wondrous, transcendental teaching, which I have now received, resolves all doubts about the duties of women and men, both in this world and the next. Śuka then said: When the Lord suddenly disappeared from their sight, the women of Vraja were overcome with torment, just like she-elephants separated from their leader. Absorbed in memories of His movements, affectionate words, smiles, playful glances, charming speech, and delightful pastimes, the gopīs, whose minds were captivated by the Lord of Lakṣmī, began to imitate His actions, each identifying herself with Him. In their walking, smiling, glancing, speaking, and every playful gesture, the beloveds of the Beloved, embodying His very form, imitated Kṛṣṇa’s ways, each one saying, “I am He,” and convinced of it in her heart. Gathered together, they sang of Him loudly and wandered from forest to forest, like those possessed, searching for Him. They questioned the trees—who, though standing apart, hold the Supreme Person within them—as if calling out to the sky. “O Aśvattha, Plakṣa, Nyagrodha trees! Have you seen the son of Nanda pass this way, stealing our hearts with His loving glances and radiant smiles? “O Kurabaka, Aśoka, Nāga, Punnāga, Campaka trees! Has Rāma’s younger brother, whose smile humbles the proud, passed this way among the haughty maidens? “O blessed Tulasī, dear to Govinda’s feet and surrounded by bees, have you seen the beloved Acyuta pass by, adorned with you? “O Mālatī, Mallikā, Jāti, Yūthikā! Have you seen Mādhava pass by, delighting you with His touch? “O Cūta, Priyāla, Panasa, Āsana, Kovida, Jambu, Arka, Bilva, Bakula, Āmra, Kadamba, Nīpa, and all other trees on the banks of Yamunā, please reveal to us—whose hearts are empty—the path Kṛṣṇa has taken. “O Earth, what austerity have you performed, that you shine so gloriously, your hairs standing on end with joy from the festival of Keśava’s feet touching you? Is it from the touch of His feet, His mighty deeds, or the embrace of His Boar form? “Or has Acyuta come here to His beloved, O friend, delighting her senses with His body and gaze? The fragrance of the garland on the chief of the clan, stained with the kuṅkuma from His beloved’s breasts, is wafting here. “With His lotus hand placed on the shoulder of His beloved, Rāma’s younger brother, followed by intoxicated bees and Tulasī, is wandering here. Do the trees bow to Him as He passes, glancing at them with affection? “Ask these creepers, who embrace the trees with their arms; surely, touched by His hand, they display horripilation in delight.” Thus, speaking in their madness, the gopīs, distressed in their search for Kṛṣṇa, imitated His playful acts, each one absorbed in thoughts of Him. One, imitating Pūtanā, approached and offered her breast for Kṛṣṇa to suckle; another, pretending to be a crying child, was comforted; yet another, acting as the cart-demon, was struck by a foot. In this way, their hearts and minds wholly devoted to Kṛṣṇa, the gopīs wandered through the forests of Vraja, their every thought, word, and deed echoing their beloved Lord.