After carefully preparing himself, the seeker rinsed his hands and gathered the churned sacrificial mixture into his cupped palms. With reverence, he addressed the offering, saying: “O Amu, your very name is Amu, for all this creation belongs to you. You are the eldest, the best, the sovereign and king. Grant me, I pray, seniority, excellence, sovereignty, and rulership. May I alone attain all this.” With these words, he began to sip the sacred mixture, reciting at each sip: “We choose the radiance of Savitṛ.” He sipped, then continued, “We partake of the food of the deity.” He sipped again, then, “The best, the essence of all.” Another sip, and finally, “Quickly, may we possess the fortune,” and with that, he drank it all. After cleansing himself, he sat behind the fire, choosing either a wooden bowl, a skin, or the bare earth as his seat, and he observed silence, not uttering a word. If, during this time, he happened to see a woman, it was taken as a sign that the ritual had succeeded. It is said in verse: “When, in rituals for desire, women appear in dreams, and prosperity is seen, one should know that in that dream-vision, success has occurred.” Once, when he came to the assembly of the Pañcālas, Pravāhaṇa Jaivali, the king, questioned him: “Did your father instruct you as a student?” The seeker replied, “Yes, revered sir.” The king then asked, “Do you know where beings go from here?” “No, revered sir,” he replied. “Do you know how they return again?” “No, revered sir.” “Do you know the divergence of the paths—the path of the gods and the path of the ancestors?” “No, revered sir.” “Do you know why that world is never filled?” “No, revered sir.” “Do you know how, at the fifth offering, water assumes the form of a person?” “No, revered sir.” The king then asked, “After being instructed, what did you say?” The seeker responded, “How could one who does not know these things, even if instructed, speak about them?” Troubled, he returned to his father and said, “You did not instruct me, revered sir, though you said you had.” He explained, “A royal relative asked me five questions, and I could not answer even one.” His father replied, “Just as you could not answer, so I also do not know even one of them. If I had known, how could I have withheld them from you?” Determined, Gautama, the seeker, went to the king. Upon arrival, he was received with honor. In the morning, after sharing a meal, Udaya said to him, “Choose a boon of human wealth, Gautama.” But Gautama replied, “Let the human wealth remain with you, king. Only tell me what you spoke to the prince at the end.” The king became troubled and ordered, “Let him stay for a long time.” He added, “Just as you did not answer, Gautama, so I will not answer. Before you, this knowledge did not pass to the Brahmins; therefore, in all worlds, the rule belonged to the Kṣatriyas.” Yet, he then began to instruct him. The king said, “Gautama, that world is indeed fire; its fuel is the sun, its rays are smoke, the day is its flame, the moon its coals, and the stars its sparks. Into this fire, the gods offer faith; from that offering, King Soma is produced. Next, the rain-cloud is indeed fire; its fuel is the wind, the cloud is smoke, lightning is its flame, thunder is its coals, and the showers are its sparks. Into this fire, the gods offer King Soma; from that offering, rain is produced. Then, the earth is indeed fire; its fuel is the year, space is smoke, night is its flame, the directions are its coals, and the intermediate directions are its sparks. Into this fire, the gods offer rain; from that oblation, food arises. Likewise, man is a fire; his speech is the fuel, breath is the smoke, tongue is the flame, eyes are the coals, and ears are the sparks. Into this fire, the gods offer food; from that oblation, semen arises. Woman, too, is a fire; her womb is the fuel, what is spoken to her is the smoke, the vulva is the flame, what she does within is the coals, and pleasure is the sparks. Into this fire, the gods offer semen; from that oblation, the embryo arises. Thus, at the fifth offering, speech becomes a man; that embryo, wrapped in the membrane, having lain for ten or nine months, or as long as it may, is then born. Having been born, he lives as long as his lifespan allows; when he dies, destined, the fires carry him away from here, to where he originated. Those who know this, and those who, in the forest, practice faith and austerity, they attain the flame; from the flame, the day; from the day, the bright fortnight; from the bright fortnight, the months traversed northward; from the months, the year; from the year, the sun; from the sun, the moon; from the moon, lightning. There, a person, not human, leads them to Brahman. This is the path of the gods. But those who, in the village, perform sacrifice, charity, and such works, they attain the smoke; from the smoke, the night; from the night, the dark fortnight; from the dark fortnight, the months traversed southward; they do not reach the year. From there, they go to the world of the ancestors; from the world of the ancestors, to space; from space, to the moon. This is King Soma, the food of the gods; the gods eat him. Having dwelt there until their merit is exhausted, they return again by the same path; from space to air, becoming air, they become smoke; becoming smoke, they become cloud; becoming cloud, they become rain; becoming rain, they descend here as rice, barley, herbs, trees, sesame, and beans. Thus, it is difficult to escape; whoever eats food, whoever pours semen, becomes that again. Those here who act beautifully, it is likely that they attain a beautiful womb—be it Brahmin, Kshatriya, or Vaishya; but those who act basely, it is likely that they attain a base womb—be it dog, pig, or outcaste. There is no path for either; these small creatures, repeatedly returning, are born and die—this is the third place. Therefore, that world is not filled; thus, one should avoid it. A thief of gold, a drinker of liquor, one who sleeps with the teacher’s wife, a murderer of a Brahmin—these four fall; the fifth is one who associates with them. But whoever knows these five fires thus, even if he associates with them, is not stained by sin; pure and purified, he attains the world of merit—whoever knows thus, whoever knows thus.” Meanwhile, there were great householders and learned men—Prācīnaśāla Aupamanyava, Satyayajña Pauluṣa, Indradyumna Bhāllaveya, Jana Śārkarākṣya, and Buḍila Āśvatarāśvi—who gathered together and discussed among themselves: “Who indeed is the self? What is Brahman?” They decided, “Revered Uddalaka, son of Aruna, is here; he has approached the Vaiśvānara Self. Let us go to him.” So they went. Uddalaka, foreseeing their questions and doubting his ability to answer all, thought, “I will have someone else instruct them.” He told them, “Revered ones, this Aśvapati, the king of the Kekayas, has approached the Vaiśvānara Self. Let us go to him.” So they went to Aśvapati. When they arrived, Aśvapati had separate dwellings prepared for them. In the morning, as he was about to depart, he said, “In my realm, there is no thief, no miser, no drunkard, no one who neglects the sacred fire, no ignorant person, no adulterer, nor adulteress—how then could there be one who sacrifices improperly? Revered ones, as long as I give wealth to each officiating priest, so long will I give to you. Please stay, revered ones.” But they replied, “For the very purpose for which a man lives, let him speak in the same way. You have approached this Vaiśvānara Self; tell us about him alone.” He said, “At dawn, I will answer you.” So, with sacrificial fuel in hand, they approached him in the forenoon. Without any further introduction, he began to speak to them.