In ancient times among the Brahmins, those who dwelled in the forest and those who lived as householders continued their respective ways of life side by side, each fulfilling their purposes with clarity and wisdom. Among these noble ones were the illustrious Agastya and the Seven Sages, as well as Madhucchandas, Gaveshana, Samkriti, Sadiva, Bhandiryavapra, and Atharvana. Alongside them were Ahovirya, Kamya, Sthanu, Medhatithi, Budha, Manovaka, Shinivaka, Shunyapala, and Kritavrana—each a sage devoted to duty. These wise souls, steadfast in their practices, attained the heavens through their adherence to the direct path of dharma, just as did the wandering ascetics who followed the same way. Having worshipped the Lord of the gods, these Brahmins—who had retreated to the forests, who could perceive the subtlest truths of dharma, and who possessed intense austerity—shed all illusion and attachments. Free of confusion, they departed this world in groups, shining in their renunciation. When old age and illness overtook them, they left behind their previous ashrama and entered the fourth stage, that of the forest-dweller, embracing a life of detachment. Among them, the one who performed the Sadyaska rite—offering all the Vedas with proper gifts—became a sacrificer to the self, gentle of mind, delighting in the inner spirit, and seeking refuge within. Having established the sacred fire within, renouncing all possessions, the Sadyaska performed the inner sacrifice, making offerings in the fire of his own being. For those who were perpetual sacrificers, the worship of the self arose from their sacrifices. Ultimately, they abandoned the three external fires, merging them instantly into the fire of the self. Whatever came to them, they accepted and consumed without disdain. Living as forest-dwellers, they cast off hair, body hair, and nails, embracing simplicity. Purified by their actions, these twice-born ones moved from one ashrama to the next. Having given fearlessness to all beings and renounced all, they attained liberation. Their worlds shone with light, and after death, they reached the infinite. Pure in conduct, free from stain, they no longer desired to act, neither here nor hereafter. Free from anger and delusion, having abandoned all disputes, they remained indifferent, contemplating the self. Whether among friends or foes, they felt no distress, nor was their heart disturbed by lack of scripture. Such a sacrificer to the self attained whatever state he desired, without doubt, remaining devoted to dharma and self-control. Established in excellent virtues, he surpassed the three ashramas and reached the fourth, which is declared the supreme stage—the highest and ultimate refuge. Only after fulfilling the rites of the previous ashramas does one come to this highest state. Now, listen to the true action that leads to the Supreme Self. Having donned ochre robes, one should remain in the three stages of renunciation. He who seeks the highest state—the unsurpassed path of the wandering ascetic—renounces worldly conduct with that intention. Hear, therefore, of the way of life of such a one. Alone, without companions, he practices righteousness for the sake of perfection. Wandering by himself, seeing things as they are, he neither abandons nor falls away from his path. Without a sacred fire, without a fixed dwelling, the sage seeks alms in the village and does not arrange for a bed, his heart filled with the spirit of renunciation. Eating little, with regulated food, he partakes of a single meal; his only possessions are a bowl, the roots of trees, a worn cloth, and solitude. Indifference toward all beings marks the true mendicant; to him, words spoken are as if fallen into a well, dead and gone. Words do not return to the speaker—he dwells in the hermitage of liberation, neither seeing nor hearing anything improper from anyone. Especially among Brahmins, this should never occur; only what is agreeable to a Brahmin should be spoken. When reviled, he sits in silence, applying remedies to himself. As if alone, he fills the sky at all times. By him, the empty is filled, and the gods know such a one as a Brahmin. Whoever endures harm from others, eats whatever is given by anyone, or sleeps wherever he may—him the gods know as a Brahmin. One who, like a snake, is feared by people; like a friend, is shunned as if from hell; like a wretch, is avoided by women—him the gods know as a Brahmin. He neither rejoices nor grieves, whether honored or dishonored, and gives fearlessness to all beings—him the gods know as a Brahmin. He does not delight in death nor in life; he simply observes time, as a farmer awaits the proper season. With mind unshaken, self-controlled, and intellect undisturbed, freed from all sins, such a man ascends to heaven. He who gives fearlessness to all beings, and from whom no being has fear—when his body is cast off, he has nothing to fear from anywhere. Just as all the footprints of walking creatures are contained within the elephant’s footprint, so are all forms of knowledge gathered in the mind. In non-violence, all righteousness and purpose are exalted; but he who resorts to violence is as if dead, though living. The one who is non-violent, steadfast, self-controlled, and a refuge for all beings attains the highest state. For the wise, content in knowledge and fearless, death holds no power; such a one attains immortality. The sage who is free from all attachments, abiding like space itself, dear to Viṣṇu and ever peaceful, is recognized by the gods as a true brāhmaṇa. He whose life is devoted to righteousness, who delights only in dharma, who spends day and night seeking merit—the gods recognize him as a brāhmaṇa. He who has restrained all undertakings, who neither bows nor praises, whose actions are exhausted though his body endures—the gods recognize him as a brāhmaṇa. All beings experience happiness, and all suffer greatly; understanding the pain of their birth and arising, the faithful should act accordingly, with compassion, wisdom, and restraint.