Just as a king in deep, dreamless sleep is untouched by all notions of the world, so too did the great Janaka rest, his mind utterly free from thoughts of all things. In him, all ideas and concepts had completely set, like the sun sinking beneath the horizon. He did not dwell on what was to come, nor did he brood over what had passed; instead, he abided in the present moment, laughing, content, and at ease. O Rama, lotus-eyed one, whatever was to be attained in this life, Janaka attained it through his own clear discernment alone, not through any other desire or longing. The mind reflects and inquires only up to the ultimate boundary of investigation; beyond that, there is nothing left to seek. Such a state is not bestowed by a teacher, nor is it found in the mere meanings of scriptures, nor is it gained by merit. It arises only from noble association and from a pure, thorough inquiry of one’s own mind. This sublime state, Rama, is reached solely by one’s own sincere, affectionate, and innate wisdom—not by any other name or outward action. For one whose flame of wisdom burns bright, who examines both past and future, the darkness of ignorance can never pursue him. The waves of sorrow and the calamities that are so difficult to cross are overcome by wisdom, just as a sturdy boat crosses turbulent waters. But for the foolish, who lack wisdom, even the smallest misfortune shakes them, just as a feeble gust of wind rattles a hollow reed. The wise, even without help, without scriptures or companions, cross the ocean of worldly existence like a boat gliding across a river. Even without assistance, the wise one completes his journey, while the unwise—even when they reach the very goal—lose it all. Therefore, one should first cultivate wisdom through the company of noble people and the study of scriptures, just as a gardener waters and protects a vine for the sake of its sweet fruit. The tree of noble action, rooted in the strength of wisdom, eventually bears the most delightful fruit, full and radiant, like the moon at its zenith. The same effort that people expend in chasing after external objects should be first devoted to the cultivation of wisdom. One must abandon the dullness of understanding, which is the very boundary of suffering, the storehouse of calamities, and the seed of the tree of worldly existence. O wise one, whatever is attained—whether from heaven, from the netherworld, or from sovereignty itself—all of it springs from the treasury of wisdom. It is wisdom—not rituals, not pilgrimages, nor austerities—that carries one across the dreadful ocean of worldly existence, O Raghava. Whatever divine prosperity is found on earth arises as the sweet fruit of the flowering vine of wisdom. By wisdom, even lions whose claws are cut and whose blood is drunk by jackals are conquered by those very jackals, just as deer are conquered by lions—such is the power of discernment. Even those of lowly birth have attained kingship through wisdom; here, only the wise are seen as fit for heaven or liberation. All who speak with discernment, delighting in their own contemplation, shine forth like the blessed ones—just as the sun outshines the roaring ocean. This discernment, abiding in the heart of the wise, is like a wish-fulfilling gem; it grants whatever is contemplated, just as the wish-fulfilling vine gives its fruit. The noble one crosses over saṃsāra by discernment, while the inferior is cast away; the instructed reach the far shore, while the uninstructed perish, just like a boat lost at sea. Rightly directed understanding leads one across the ocean of existence; wrongly directed, it brings misfortune—just as a boat can either carry one to safety or to disaster. Faults that arise in multitudes, like arrows, do not trouble the discerning, undeluded wise person, just as arrows cannot pierce one who is well-armored. O dear one, by discernment this entire world is truly seen; for one who sees rightly, neither misfortune nor fortune can approach. The dark covering of the inert self, spread like a cloud of ego, veils the supreme sun of truth; but this cloud is torn apart by the wind of discernment. For one seeking the incomparable state, the mind must first be carefully nurtured—just as a farmer prepares the earth before seeking the harvest. Thus, Rama, by reflecting upon the Self with the Self, as Janaka did, you too will soon attain the state known to the wise. In the royal lineages of the West, wise ones have attained the highest goal for themselves, just as Janaka did. One must strive again and again to conquer the enemies called the senses, until the Self finds satisfaction in itself by itself. When the all-pervading Lord, the Lord of gods, the Supreme Self, is pleased and reveals Himself, all sorrowful perceptions are destroyed. The seeds of delusion and the showers of various calamities, the false perceptions, all come to an end upon seeing That which is both the higher and the lower. Always, Rama, like Janaka, with a mind free from undertakings, perceiving the Self by wisdom, become prosperous and excellent. For one who is ever engaged in inquiry and observes the restless people of the world, as Janaka did, in time the Self becomes peaceful by itself. Neither fate, nor actions, nor wealth, nor relatives are a refuge for those who fear worldly existence; only their own effort is. Those who are devoted to fate, absorbed in the endless alternatives of action and the like—O dear one, their understanding is dull and should not be followed, for it leads to destruction. By firmly relying on discernment, perceiving the Self by the Self, one should cross the ocean of worldly existence with the intellect lifted by dispassion. This, O Rama, is what has been described: the attainment of knowledge, which brings happiness, falls like fruit from the sky and destroys the tree of ignorance. Just as in Janaka, who possessed noble understanding, so too in the wise person, this embodied being naturally unfolds, like a lotus blossoming at dawn.