In the sacred narrative, the ideal mendicant is described: he eats little, with regulated food, partaking of a single meal each day. His companions are simple—a bowl, the roots of trees, a worn cloth, and solitude. Indifference toward all beings marks his way; words spoken to him are as if fallen into a well, dead and gone, never returning to the speaker. Such a one dwells in the hermitage of liberation, seeing and hearing nothing improper from anyone, especially among Brahmins. Only what is agreeable to a Brahmin should be spoken. When reviled, he sits in silence, applying a remedy to himself, as if alone beneath the sky, filling the emptiness within. The gods recognize as a Brahmin the one who fills the empty, who accepts whatever is given, sleeps wherever he may, and endures whatever comes. Like a snake, he is feared; like a friend shunned as from hell; like a wretch, avoided by women—such is the Brahmin known to the gods. He does not rejoice nor grieve, whether honored or dishonored, and gives fearlessness to all beings. He neither delights in death nor in life, but simply observes time, as a farmer awaits the proper season. With mind unshaken, self-controlled, intellect undisturbed, and freed from all sins, he attains heaven. The one who gives fearlessness to all beings, from whom beings have no fear, when his body is cast off, has no fear from anywhere. All knowledge is gathered in the mind, just as all footprints are contained within the elephant's footprint. In non-violence, all righteousness and purpose are exalted; those who resort to violence are as if dead, though living. The non-violent, steadfast, self-controlled, and refuge for all beings attains the highest state. For the wise, content in knowledge and fearless, death has no power; immortality is attained. The sage, free from attachments, abiding like space, dear to Viṣṇu, and peaceful, is recognized by the gods as a brāhmaṇa. He whose life is devoted to righteousness, who delights only in dharma, and spends day and night for merit, is recognized as a brāhmaṇa. He who has restrained all undertakings, who neither bows nor praises, whose actions are exhausted though his body endures, is recognized as a brāhmaṇa. All beings experience happiness and suffering; understanding the pain of birth and arising, the faithful act accordingly. The gift of fearlessness is the highest charity; among all gifts, it stands supreme. He who first offers his own body in sacrifice attains endless fearlessness for all creatures. He who offers oblations with upturned face attains endless, firm establishment, and through his bodily connection, the Vaiśvānara fire is received by the world. When one offers, with the breath, in the heart the size of a thumb, the self as sacrifice, then in his agnihotra, the offering abides in himself and in all worlds, always. Those who know the god—the creator, triple-formed, golden, highest reality—are honored among beings and attain immortality. He who knows all the Vedas, what is to be known, all ritual, etymology, and the highest reality, perceiving all in the embodied self, finds all gods moving in accord. He who knows what is established in the earth, immeasurable in the sky, golden, at the end of the circle, moving to the right in the southern mid-region, whose rays shine within himself, understands the wheel of time—six spokes, twelve rims, triple-jointed, whose mouth protects the universe—set within the cave. By whose grace the body of the world and all realms are attained, he who satisfies the gods therein becomes ever liberated. He who is radiant, eternal, ancient, and out of fear of whom the world exists; from whom beings do not fear and who never causes fear—he is recognized by the gods. He who neither censures nor is censured, sees the highest self, freed from delusion and sin, seeking no gain here or hereafter. Free from anger and delusion, regarding clod and gold alike, freed from sorrow, without conflict or alliance, beyond praise or blame, moving among the pleasant and unpleasant, the mendicant wanders indifferent, like a witness. At this point, Bhīṣma turns to the Brāhmaṇa and speaks: "O Brāhmaṇa, you have described the supreme glory of this holy place—the tīrtha that arose on earth by the fall of the lotus. O tiger among sages, recount in detail all that was done there by the blessed Viṣṇu and Śaṅkara. How was the sacrifice performed by the divine Lord? Who were the officiating priests and Brahmins who assembled? What were the portions of that sacrifice, what materials were used, and what was the sacrificial fee? What altar and measurements did Virinchi establish there? Who was the recipient of the sacrifice, praised everywhere in the Vedas as the object of worship for all the gods? Which desire did the Creator contemplate when he performed the sacrifice? Just as the Lord of gods is immortal and unaging, so too is his heaven imperishable. For the other gods as well, the great-souled one granted heaven; for the sake of the agnihotra, the Vedas and herbs also arose. All other animals on earth were created by the blessed one for the purpose of sacrifice; this is the Vedic tradition. Bhīṣma concludes, "I am curious to hear from you what desire was considered, what result and intention were involved, as you have spoken.