He who comes to that sacred place will be blessed with wealth, wisdom, and courage, and his family will flourish with sons and grandsons. There, by offering rice-balls and other gifts to the ancestors, they are liberated, and by bathing in those holy waters, a person is freed from sins of mind, speech, and body. At that time, following the words of Yama, the god of fire addressed the two birds present. He declared, “Those who, with disciplined vows, recite my hymn on the southern bank—I grant them health, wealth, good fortune, and beauty. Even if this hymn is merely written and kept in one’s house, or recited anywhere, there will be no fear from fire. Whoever, pure in body, bathes and gives gifts at the fire’s bank attains the fruit of the Agniṣṭoma sacrifice, without doubt.” From that time onward, that holy place became known as Yāmyam and Āgneyam. The wise recognize the pigeon and the owl, and the fierce owl as well, in connection with these sacred grounds. There are three thousand, and just as many hundreds, plus ninety holy places there—each one a vessel of liberation. By bathing and giving there, even departed spirits are purified, gaining heaven, and being blessed with sons and wealth. This place is renowned as Tapas Tīrtha, the great holy site that increases austerity, grants all desires, brings merit, and enhances the satisfaction of the ancestors. Now, listen to what happened at this sin-destroying place: the conversation between the waters and the fire, and the mutual discussion among the sages. Some among them considered the waters to be the greatest, while others claimed fire was superior. Thus, the sages debated, each discussing the merits of fire and water. “Where would life be without fire?” some asked. “For fire is the very essence of life; all things are born from fire, which is both the self and the recipient of all offerings. The world is sustained by fire; fire is the light of the universe. Therefore, there is no purifier, no great deity, superior to fire. That very one is called the inner light; he alone is the supreme light. Without fire, nothing exists whose radiance encompasses the three worlds. Thus, there is nothing greater than fire, the foremost among beings. Just as a seed is placed by a man in the field of a woman, so is fire’s role. Its power, beginning with the body, belongs only to fire and not otherwise. Fire is indeed the mouth of the gods; nothing is known beyond this.” But others, learned in the Vedas, asserted that water is preeminent. “Food is produced by water, and purity is born from water. Everything is indeed sustained by water; waters are remembered as mothers. Those who know ancient lore say that water is the life of the three worlds. Immortality has arisen from water, and from them comes the origin of plants. Some declare fire to be the eldest, while others say water is most ancient.” Thus, these seers, learned and holding opposing views, approached me and asked, “Tell us, O lord of the three worlds, whether fire or water is superior.” To all the assembled sages, steadfast in their vows, I replied, “Both are most worthy of reverence in the world; from both, the universe arises. From both are born offerings to the gods and ancestors, as well as immortality itself. From both come life in the world and the support of the body. There is no distinction between the two; therefore, their preeminence is considered equal. By my words, preeminence belongs to neither.” Yet, the eminent sages remained unsatisfied, each still believing preeminence belonged to one or the other. So, those ascetics went to Vāyu, the wind-god, and asked, “Whose preeminence is it, O Vāyu? Life-breath, the truth abides in you.” Vāyu answered, “Fire is the eldest; everything is established in fire.” Still not content, the seers went to the earth and asked, “O Earth, speak the truth: whose preeminence is it? You are the support of all that moves and does not move.” The earth, with humility, replied, “Even I have the eternal goddesses, the waters, as my support. Everything is born from water; preeminence is established in water.” Still seeking the ultimate answer, the sages departed and praised the One who lies upon the Ocean of Milk, the bearer of the conch, discus, and mace, with various hymns. They sought out him who knows all the worlds, what is to come, what is being born, who dwells hidden within, who entered at the end all the three worlds of wondrous and diverse forms—the imperishable, eternal, immeasurable One, whom the Vedas declare to be known, by resorting to whom the seers attain their desired goal. They proclaimed, “That true reality, that refuge, we seek. You are the source of all, the great elements, and the world-principle—your form as Viṣṇu is not found even by yogis. To speak of that, we have come—speak the truth, O abode of the universe. You are the inner self of all embodied beings; you alone are everything, and all is in you, O Lord. Yet, no one anywhere truly knows you, O wondrous one, because of the power of your own nature.” Then, the divine, bodiless speech—mother of the world—spoke to them: “Whichever of the two is first attained through austerity, devotion, and discipline—that one is said to be the elder and foremost.” Hearing this, all the revered sages accepted her words, saying, “So be it.” Weary and inwardly exhausted, they embraced supreme detachment and departed. They all went to Gautamī, the sole mother of all worlds, purifier of the three realms, intent on performing austerities with self-restraint. Then, prepared to worship both the deity of water and the deity of fire, those who were devoted to Agni and those who were devoted to water gathered there. At that time, the divine speech, Sarasvatī, mother of the Vedas, addressed them all.