O king, understand that all beings you see—ministers and their attendants, the gods, animals, and even the countless multitudes of insects—are pervaded by Viṣṇu. Nothing exists apart from Him; His presence fills all forms. Therefore, one should cultivate unwavering contemplation that Hari is everywhere, all-pervading. There is none like Him; He alone is worthy of worship, and this understanding should guide your devotion. This, O king, is the true nature of knowledge: to remember Nārāyaṇa, Hari, with wholehearted devotion. Remember Him as your teacher, offering flowers and incense, satisfying the Brāhmaṇas, and practicing steady meditation. In this way, the Supreme Lord is quickly attained. At this point, Aśvaśirā addressed the assembly, saying, “You both are capable of dispelling a doubt that troubles me. If you can remove it, I may be freed from the bonds of worldly existence.” When the king had spoken thus, the great sage Kapila, foremost among yogis and righteous in soul, addressed him, recognizing the king as the best among those who perform sacrifices. Kapila said, “What is your doubt, O supremely righteous king? Speak what is in your heart; when I hear it, I will resolve it.” The king replied, “O sage, is liberation attained by action, or by knowledge? If you are pleased with me, please remove this doubt of mine.” Kapila responded, “This very question was once asked by Raibhya, son of Brahmā, and by King Vasu, of Bṛhaspati, the preceptor of the gods. Vasu, a learned and generous king of old, increased the lineage of Brahmā during the time of Cākṣuṣa Manu. Out of a desire to see Brahmā, he traveled to Brahmā’s abode. On his way, he encountered Citraratha, the foremost of the Vidyadharas, and affectionately inquired about the opportunity to meet Brahmā. Citraratha replied that a gathering of the gods was taking place at Brahmā’s abode. Hearing this, Vasu waited at the door, and as he waited, the great ascetic Raibhya arrived. King Vasu, delighted and content, honored Raibhya and spoke first: ‘Where are you coming from, O sage?’ Raibhya replied, ‘I have just come from the side of Bṛhaspati, O great king. I wish to ask the priest of the gods about a certain matter.’ As Raibhya was speaking, the great assembly of Brahmā, along with the hosts of gods, rose from their seats and departed. Then, Bṛhaspati, after conferring with Raibhya, went to his own seat, having been honored by Vasu. Raibhya, descendant of Angiras, and King Vasu sat down together. When they were seated, Bṛhaspati, the guru of the gods, turned to Raibhya and said, ‘What can I do for you, O greatly fortunate one, master of the Vedas and Vedangas?’ Raibhya said, ‘O Bṛhaspati, is liberation attained by action, or by knowledge? Please tell me, for I am troubled by this doubt.’ Bṛhaspati replied, ‘Whatever action a person performs, whether good or bad, if he offers all to Nārāyaṇa and acts in this spirit, he is not tainted by those actions.’ He continued, ‘It is also said that there was once a dialogue between two who held opposing views: a certain Brahmin named Atreya, devoted to Vedic study, and a man named Samyamana, who, on one occasion, went to bathe in the blessed and auspicious Bhagirathi river in the forest of Dharma. There, a keen-sighted hunter named Nishthuraka, fierce as death and armed with his bow, came upon a great herd of deer resting. He prepared to kill them, fitting an arrow to his bow. Seeing this, the Brahmin Samyamana tried to stop him: “Do not, good man, commit this act of taking life.” The hunter, hearing these words, smiled slightly and replied, “I do not harm a separate soul, O best of twice-born. The Supreme Self, the Blessed Lord, Himself plays with beings; just as oxen and clay are fashioned by Him, so too is everything else. There is no doubt in this.” He continued, “O Brahmin, this notion of doership and separateness arises from ignorance, which belongs to those seeking liberation. All this world is set in motion by the journey of life-breath. The sense of ‘I’ in this context does not bring about goodness.” Hearing this, the Brahmin Samyamana, amazed, spoke to the hunter: “What is this that you say, O blessed one? Your words are direct and reasoned.” The hunter, who knew righteousness, then asked the Brahmin, “Why did you place an iron net and fire beneath it?” Having kindled the fire, the hunter said to the Brahmin, “Let the pile of wood be set ablaze.” The Brahmin, using his mouth, ignited the fire and then ceased. When the fire blazed, the Brahmin separated thousands of iron nets, each with its own mesh, even though the fire was in one place. Then the hunter said, “O great sage, take one flame, by which I will destroy the rest here.” Having said this, he quickly threw a water-filled pot onto the sacrificial fire, and suddenly, the fire was extinguished as before. Then the hunter said to the ascetic Brahmin, “O revered one, give me that flame which you took from the fire, so that I may go and cook the meat I have brought.” Thus addressed, the Brahmin looked at the iron net, but there was no fire there; it had perished at the root and was gone. The Brahmin, steadfast in his vows, stood there silently, feeling embarrassed, while the hunter spoke these words: “In this fire, O noble one, many branches blaze forth; when the root is destroyed, the fire is extinguished. Tell me, O Brahmin, is this not so?” The hunter continued, “The Self, abiding in its own nature, is the refuge of all beings. From that Self, this creation arises, and in that Self, the world exists.” He concluded, “By the rule of accepting alms, whatever vow is prescribed, if one unites that with the Self and performs it, one does not fall.” As the hunter spoke thus to the Brahmin, O best of kings, a shower of flowers fell from the sky upon him, honoring his wisdom and insight.