Let us contemplate the nature of Lord Shiva, the supreme giver of commands, who bestows his favor upon all beings. His independence is absolute; when Shiva accepts a purpose, he is never dependent on another. Favor, in its truest sense, does not rely on the one receiving it; thus, independence means complete freedom from dependence. If, however, the recipient of favor is dependent on something else, then it is accepted as such; but apart from Shiva’s grace, there can be no connection to either enjoyment or liberation for that being. Even for those who possess embodied forms, favor may be withdrawn by Shiva’s command. In this world, nothing exists that is not established by the knowledge of Śambhu. Through the forms we perceive, we glimpse the formless, for Shiva’s essence is form—this is why we speak of the Shaiva form. Yet, the formless Shiva, the supreme cause, cannot be directly perceived by anyone through a manifest form. It is only for the sake of being accessible to valid means of knowledge and to explain his nature that such designations are made; otherwise, there is neither neglect nor intermediate indication. Truly, only a form that is directly comparable to oneself can be called a form; Shiva’s form, whose essence is form, is a mark of his transcendence. Just as fire is not perceived in wood before it is kindled, so too Shiva is not manifest in the form-essence before he arises therein—such is the state. When one says, “Bring fire,” it is not brought except from burning wood; likewise, Shiva is to be worshipped in the form-essence. Therefore, at the beginning of worship, we conceptualize the form-essence; whatever is done to the form-essence is indeed done directly to Shiva. Even in the liṅga and other images, and especially in worship, Shiva is approached through that particular form-essence. As the form-essence is favored by the Supreme Lord, so too are we creatures favored by Shiva, who is established in the form-essence. For the welfare of the worlds, all—from Sadāśiva onward—are always established by the Supreme Lord Shiva, even in the form-essence. For the sake of enjoyment and especially for liberation of souls, Shiva’s connection with the form-essence exists in both realities and non-realities. Enjoyment is understood as the result of karma, consisting of pleasure and pain; but since Shiva has no karma, what kind of enjoyment could he have? Shiva grants everything and withholds nothing; those who withhold, faults arise, but such faults cannot exist in Shiva. Whatever acts of restraint are shown in Brahma and others, those too are done by Shiva in the form of Śrīkaṇṭha, only for the good of the world. There is no doubt that lordship of the universe belongs to Śrīkaṇṭha; Shiva presides over the playful form known as Śrīkaṇṭha. The gods and others who are restrained are indeed those with faults, as described; thus, they become purified of sin, and the people too are freed from distress. Even restraint, by its very nature, is not to be despised by the wise; for this reason, punishment of the punishable is praised among kings. That accomplishment which, as Lord, is the complete function of all works—if Shiva did not exercise lordship over the world, how could he be its Lord? The will of the Lord is creative power; the command of the Creator is supreme. His order is: “This must be done, this must not be done”—that is the rule. To act in accordance with that rule is the mark of virtue; acting contrary is not so. Yet, not all conduct is seen to be thus. If something is virtuous, it should be protected; if not, it should be turned away. When persuasion fails, punishment is the means. This discipline, ending in punishment, is defined by the aim of benefit; whatever is contrary to this is called harmful. Those who are always established in what is beneficial are an example of the Lord. How, then, can the virtuous be blamed, when they restrain only the wicked? In the world, those who act improperly and without discernment are to be censured; whatever disturbs people is called improper. All restraint in the world is not born of hatred; for a father does not hate his son when he restrains and teaches him. Even one who is neutral must restrain others when necessary; yet, in doing so, some degree of harshness inevitably follows. Otherwise, he does not harm others, even if they are at fault; but if, out of ignorance, he practices neutrality, he does harm. Therefore, one who inflicts suffering without compassion—some declare this is always forbidden, while others say it is not. When a physician, knowing the cause, harms a patient in treatment, there is no cruelty at all; it is compassion that motivates him. Even compassion is not always a virtue toward those who are harmful; in such cases, one who is compassionate by mistake becomes, in effect, unfeeling. Neglect is also a fault when one has the power to protect; by neglecting, the one who should be protected is immediately endangered. If, seeing a snake approaching, someone neglects to protect, considering only apparent faults, he too is unfeeling in the outcome. Therefore, compassion is not always a virtue; only what achieves the desired aim is accepted, all else is not. Even in embodied beings, faults like passion truly exist; yet, these belong only to them, never to Śiva in any way—just as copper, even when placed in fire, remains distinct for a time. Thus, fire is not defiled by contact with copper; it is copper that takes on impurity from contact with what is impure, not fire. Yet, by union with fire, even what is impure becomes pure; so too, by contact with the pure self, Śiva can never become impure.