There is a sacred place known as the gathering place of all that is dear, for everything beloved and cherished converges there. Whoever understands this truth attracts all that is dear to themselves; all that is precious comes to one who knows in this way. Such a person becomes the gatherer of all that is dear, guiding and leading all that is precious. This gathering and guidance belong to the knower. Further, he is the radiant one, shining forth in all the worlds. His brilliance illuminates every realm; wherever he knows this, he shines there. In the course of ritual, whatever offerings are made—whether with flame or without—they ultimately reach the flame. From the flame, they proceed to the day; from the day to the waxing fortnight; from the waxing fortnight to the months; from the months to the year; from the year to the sun; from the sun to the moon; from the moon to lightning. At that point, a person, not of human kind, leads them onward. This guide brings them to Brahman, following the path of the gods, the path that leads directly to Brahman. Those who journey by this path do not return to the human cycle—they do not come back. This, indeed, is the purified sacrifice, which purifies all things. Because it purifies everything, it alone is the true sacrifice. Its two guiding rails are mind and speech. Of these, one is prepared with mind—the Brahman priest; the other with speech—the Hotṛ, Adhvaryu, and Udgātṛ. When, at the morning recitation before the enclosing sticks are placed, the Brahman priest gives the signal, only one guiding rail is prepared; the other is lacking. The sacrifice then wobbles, just as a chariot with only one wheel wobbles along, and the sacrificer, following an unstable sacrifice, fares worse after the offering. But if, at the morning recitation, before the enclosing sticks are placed, the Brahman priest does not give the signal, both guiding rails are prepared; neither is lacking. The sacrifice stands firm, just as a chariot with both wheels stands steady, and the sacrificer, following a stable sacrifice, becomes better after the offering. Long ago, Prajāpati heated the worlds, and from that heating, he drew forth their essences: fire from the earth, air from the atmosphere, and the sun from the sky. He then heated these three deities, and from them, he extracted their essences: the Ṛg verses from fire, the Yajus formulas from air, and the Sāman chants from the sun. He heated this threefold knowledge and drew out its essence: 'Bhūḥ' from the Ṛg verses, 'Bhuvaḥ' from the Yajus formulas, and 'Svaḥ' from the Sāman chants. If there is a fault in the Ṛg, one should offer with 'Bhūḥ, Svāhā' in the Gārhapatya fire; thus, with the essence and power of the Ṛg, what was lost in the sacrifice is restored. If there is a fault in the Yajus, one should offer with 'Bhuvaḥ, Svāhā'; thus, with the essence and power of the Yajus, the loss is restored. If there is a fault in the Sāman, one should offer with 'Svaḥ, Svāhā'; thus, with the essence and power of the Sāman, the loss is restored. Just as salt restores gold, gold restores silver, silver restores tin, tin restores lead, lead restores iron, iron restores wood, and wood restores leather, so, by the power of these worlds, these deities, and this threefold knowledge, what was lost in the sacrifice is restored. This sacrifice is a remedy when there is a knowing Brahman priest. When such a priest is present, the sacrifice inclines towards water, the source of life. There is a verse about the Brahman priest: wherever he returns from, there he goes. Among the officiants, the Brahman priest alone protects the Kurus and their people. Such a knowing priest safeguards the sacrifice, the sacrificer, and all the officiants. Therefore, only a knowing Brahman priest should be appointed—not one who lacks this knowledge. Whoever knows what is eldest and best, becomes eldest and best; breath is truly both eldest and best. Whoever knows what is most excellent, becomes most excellent among his own; speech is truly most excellent. Whoever knows what is foundation, stands firm in this world and the next; the eye is truly the foundation. Whoever knows what is prosperity, to him come all desires, both divine and human; the ear is truly prosperity. Whoever knows what is abode, becomes the abode for his own; the mind is truly the abode. The breaths then arranged themselves, each claiming superiority: "I am superior, I am superior." They approached Prajapati, their father, and asked, "Sir, which of us is the best?" He replied, "The one whose departure makes the body appear most wretched—that one is the best among you." Speech departed for a year. Upon returning, she asked, "How did you live without me?" People were mute, not speaking, yet breathing, seeing, hearing, and thinking. Speech re-entered. The eye departed for a year. Upon returning, it asked, "How did you live without me?" People were blind, yet breathing, speaking, hearing, and thinking. The eye re-entered. The ear departed for a year. Upon returning, it asked, "How did you live without me?" People were deaf, yet breathing, speaking, seeing, and thinking. The ear re-entered. The mind departed for a year. Upon returning, it asked, "How did you live without me?" People were mindless, yet breathing, speaking, seeing, and hearing. The mind re-entered. Finally, breath prepared to depart. Just as a noble horse pulls up the pegs, breath pulled up the other breaths. They pleaded, "Revered one, stay! You are the best among us. Do not depart." Speech then said to breath, "That which makes me most excellent, you are that most excellent." The eye said, "That which makes me foundation, you are that foundation." The ear said, "That which makes me prosperity, you are that prosperity." The mind said, "That which makes me abode, you are that abode." Indeed, people do not refer to speech, eyes, ears, or mind alone; they speak only of breaths, for breath truly becomes all these. Breath then asked, "What will be my food?" The reply was, "Whatever is here, from dogs to birds." That is the food for breath. The name "mind" is directly perceived, and in such knowledge, nothing is without food. Breath asked, "What will be my clothing?" The reply was, "Water." Therefore, those who are hungry cover themselves with water, both in front and above; water is truly clothing, and one becomes unclothed without it. Satyakama Jabala spoke to Goshruti Vaigyrapadya, saying, "Even if one were to say this to a dried-up stump, the branches would sprout leaves." If one desires great achievement, after undertaking the vow on the new moon, during the night of the full moon, he churns together all medicinal herbs with curd and honey. After offering clarified butter in the fire with the invocation, "To the eldest, to the best, svāhā," he pours the residue of the churning into the fire. Then, with the invocation "To Vasiṣṭha, svāhā," he pours the residue into the fire; with "To Establishment, svāhā," he pours the residue; with "To Prosperity, svāhā," he pours the residue; and with "To Abode, svāhā," he pours the residue into the fire. Thus, the story unfolds, revealing the sacred connections between all that is dear, the radiance of knowledge, the purity of sacrifice, the essence of the worlds, and the supremacy of breath, guiding the seeker towards the highest achievement and understanding.