When the Daityas, the mighty race of asuras, began to flourish greatly, Indra—also called Maghavan—was seized by anger. In his wrath, he struck down Vishvarupa, severing his heads with the force of his thunderbolt. This act, however, revealed a flaw in the ritual that had been performed, a flaw rooted in the character of the one who conducted it. For if mere anger and power were enough, even the king of Panchala, acting in rage, would have succeeded in his own sacrifices. Consider, for example, the birth of Dhrishtadyumna and Draupadi. They were born from the sacred altar itself: Dhrishtadyumna, destined to destroy Drona, and Draupadi, radiant and virtuous. Likewise, when King Dasharatha, though childless, performed the great sacrifice for progeny, four sons were born to him—proof that a properly conducted ritual brings sure success. Thus, O noble king, it is clear: when a sacrifice is performed correctly, it yields the desired fruit; but if there is any defect, the results turn contrary. This was seen even in the Pandavas’ own sacrifice. Because of some imperfection, the outcome was reversed, and they suffered defeat in the deceitful game of dice. Yudhishthira, son of Dharma, was ever truthful; Draupadi was virtuous; and all his brothers were noble and righteous. Yet, some impurity in the materials, a flaw in the ritual, or perhaps pride in its performance, brought about their misfortune. Know, O King, that the sāttvika sacrifice—pure, serene, and luminous—is exceedingly rare. The Vaikhānasa sages prescribe it as the highest form of sacrifice. Those ascetics who partake only of sāttvika food—gathered lawfully, from the forest, or received from sages, and always well-prepared—who are devoted to pure offerings, who perform all rites with the proper mantras, and who possess unwavering faith—these are the ones whose sacrifices shine with the highest purity. In contrast, the rājasic sacrifices—rich in material offerings, marked by tall yūpa posts and elaborate arrangements—are performed by kṣatriyas and householders. These rituals are often tainted by pride and ostentation. The tāmasic sacrifices, belonging to the dānavas, are even darker: performed in anger, fostering intoxication and cruelty, and marked by violence, as the great sages have declared. Yet, for those sages who seek liberation, who are detached and of noble soul, the supreme sacrifice is mental—a sacrifice performed entirely within the mind, endowed with all means and free from external flaws. In all other sacrifices, even when conducted by brāhmaṇas, there may be some defect—whether in the materials, faith, or actions. Because of differences in place, time, and resources, no external sacrifice is ever truly complete. Only the mental sacrifice is perfect. To begin such a sacrifice, the mind must first be purified, freed from all qualities and distractions. When the mind is pure, the body too becomes pure—there is no doubt of this. Only then does one become qualified to perform the supreme mental sacrifice, having abandoned all attachment to sense objects. With a pure mind, one should mentally construct a vast sacrificial pavilion, stretching over many yojanas, with great and smooth pillars fashioned from sacred trees. Within this imagined space, one should arrange a clear altar and establish the ritual fires according to tradition—all within the mind’s eye. The best of brāhmaṇas are to be mentally chosen and appointed to their roles: Brahmā, Adhvaryu, Hotṛ, Prastotṛ, Udgātṛ, Pratihartṛ, and all the other officiants, each honored as prescribed. The five vital fires—prāṇa, apāna, vyāna, samāna, and udāna—are to be established upon the altar. Prāṇa becomes the gārhapatya fire, apāna the āhavanīya, vyāna the dakṣiṇāgni, samāna the āvasathya, and udāna the fire of the assembly. These five are supremely powerful. The oblation, too, is to be conceived as formless, supreme, and pure. In this mental sacrifice, the mind itself is both the Hotṛ and the sacrificer, while the deity of the sacrifice is Brahman—formless and eternal. The fruit-giving, attribute-less Power, ever bestowing detachment and auspiciousness, is the very foundation of all knowledge of Brahman, pervading everywhere. With this intention, the twice-born should offer the oblation into the fires of the vital breaths, and, having made the mind free from all support, even offer the vital breaths themselves. Through the path of the Kundalini, one should offer into the eternal Brahman, by direct experience, the great Goddess who is one’s own Self. By samadhi alone, through the discipline of yoga, let the aspirant meditate with an undisturbed mind on the Self abiding in all beings and all beings abiding in the Self. When he perceives the Self in all beings, then he truly sees the auspicious One. Having seen her, he becomes a knower of Brahman, embodying existence, consciousness, and bliss. At that point, O King, all things born of Maya are burned away; only the karma already begun remains, lasting as long as the body endures. Such a one is liberated while living and, upon death, attains final liberation. He is one who has fulfilled his purpose, having worshiped the Mother of the universe. Therefore, O King, with all effort, one should meditate upon, listen to, and reflect on the glorious Lady of the world, in accordance with the teachings of the Guru. A sacrifice performed in this way grants liberation without doubt; all other sacrifices, being motivated by desire, are subject to decline. One may perform the Agniṣṭoma sacrifice as prescribed, desiring heaven—so the Vedas instruct, and the wise declare. Yet, when the accrued merit is exhausted, one must return to the world of death according to one’s tendencies. Thus, the mental sacrifice is superior and imperishable. Such a sacrifice is not suitable for a king seeking victory; the serpent sacrifice you performed earlier was tainted by darkness. The enmity of the wicked Takṣaka has been fulfilled, O King, and for his sake, countless other serpents were consumed by the fire of your ritual. Now, O best of kings, perform the Devi-sacrifice, properly established and in accordance with the sacred rules, just as Vishnu himself did at the beginning of creation.