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Work is more excellent than idleness;
The body’s life proceeds not, lacking work.
There is a task of holiness to do,
Unlike world-binding toil, which bindeth not The faithful soul; such earthly duty do
Free from desire, and thou shalt well perform Thy heavenly purpose. Spake Prajapati—
In the beginning, when all men were made, And, with mankind, the sacrifice— “Do this!
Work! sacrifice! Increase and multiply
With sacrifice! This shall be Kamaduk,
Your ‘Cow of Plenty,’ giving back her milk Of all abundance. Worship the gods thereby; The gods shall yield thee grace. Those meats ye crave The gods will grant to Labour, when it pays Tithes in the altar-flame. But if one eats Fruits of the earth, rendering to kindly Heaven No gift of toil, that thief steals from his world.”
Who eat of food after their sacrifice
Are quit of fault, but they that spread a feast All for themselves, eat sin and drink of sin.
By food the living live; food comes of rain, And rain comes by the pious sacrifice,
And sacrifice is paid with tithes of toil; Thus action is of Brahma, who is One,
The Only, All-pervading; at all times
Present in sacrifice. He that abstains
To help the rolling wheels of this great world, Glutting his idle sense, lives a lost life, Shameful and vain. Existing for himself, Self-concentrated, serving self alone,
No part hath he in aught; nothing achieved, Nought wrought or unwrought toucheth him; no hope Of help for all the living things of earth Depends from him.[FN#5] Therefore, thy task prescribed With spirit unattached gladly perform,
Since in performance of plain duty man
Mounts to his highest bliss. By works alone Janak and ancient saints reached blessedness!
Moreover, for the upholding of thy kind, Action thou should’st embrace. What the wise choose The unwise people take; what best men do The multitude will follow. Look on me,
Thou Son of Pritha! in the three wide worlds I am not bound to any toil, no height
Awaits to scale, no gift remains to gain, Yet I act here! and, if I acted not—
Earnest and watchful—those that look to me For guidance, sinking back to sloth again Because I slumbered, would decline from good, And I should break earth’s order and commit Her offspring unto ruin, Bharata!
Even as the unknowing toil, wedded to sense, So let the enlightened toil, sense-freed, but set To bring the world deliverance, and its bliss; Not sowing in those simple, busy hearts
Seed of despair. Yea! let each play his part In all he finds to do, with unyoked soul.
All things are everywhere by Nature wrought In interaction of the qualities.
The fool, cheated by self, thinks, “This I did”
And “That I wrought; “but—ah, thou strong-armed Prince!—
A better-lessoned mind, knowing the play Of visible things within the world of sense, And how the qualities must qualify,
Standeth aloof even from his acts. Th’ untaught Live mixed with them, knowing not Nature’s way, Of highest aims unwitting, slow and dull.
Those make thou not to stumble, having the light; But all thy dues discharging, for My sake, With meditation centred inwardly,
Seeking no profit, satisfied, serene,
Heedless of issue—fight! They who shall keep My ordinance thus, the wise and willing hearts, Have quittance from all issue of their acts; But those who disregard My ordinance,
Thinking they know, know nought, and fall to loss, Confused and foolish. ‘Sooth, the instructed one Doth of his kind, following what fits him most: And lower creatures of their kind; in vain Contending ‘gainst the law. Needs must it be The objects of the sense will stir the sense To like and dislike, yet th’ enlightened man Yields not to these, knowing them enemies.
Finally, this is better, that one do
His own task as he may, even though he fail, Than take tasks not his own, though they seem good.
To die performing duty is no ill;
But who seeks other roads shall wander still.
Arjuna.
Yet tell me, Teacher! by what force doth man Go to his ill, unwilling; as if one
Pushed him that evil path?
Krishna.
Kama it is!
Passion it is! born of the Darknesses,
Which pusheth him. Mighty of appetite,
Sinful, and strong is this!—man’s enemy!
As smoke blots the white fire, as clinging rust Mars the bright mirror, as the womb surrounds The babe unborn, so is the world of things Foiled, soiled, enclosed in this desire of flesh.
The wise fall, caught in it; the unresting foe It is of wisdom, wearing countless forms, Fair but deceitful, subtle as a flame.
Sense, mind, and reason—these, O Kunti’s Son!
Are booty for it; in its play with these It maddens man, beguiling, blinding him.
Therefore, thou noblest child of Bharata!
Govern thy heart! Constrain th’ entangled sense!
Resist the false, soft sinfulness which saps Knowledge and judgment! Yea, the world is strong, But what discerns it stronger, and the mind Strongest; and high o’er all the ruling Soul.
Wherefore, perceiving Him who reigns supreme, Put forth full force of Soul in thy own soul!
Fight! vanquish foes and doubts, dear Hero! slay What haunts thee in fond shapes, and would betray!
HERE ENDETH CHAPTER III. OF THE BHAGAVAD-GITA, Entitled “Karma-Yog,”
Or “The Book of Virtue in Work.”
Krishna.
This deathless Yoga, this deep union,
I taught Vivaswata,[FN#6] the Lord of Light; Vivaswata to Manu gave it; he
To Ikshwaku; so passed it down the line
Of all my royal Rishis. Then, with years, The truth grew dim and perished, noble Prince!
Now once again to thee it is declared—
This ancient lore, this mystery supreme—
Seeing I find thee votary and friend.
Arjuna.
Thy birth, dear Lord, was in these later days, And bright Vivaswata’s preceded time!
How shall I comprehend this thing thou sayest, “From the beginning it was I who taught?”
Krishna.
Manifold the renewals of my birth
Have been, Arjuna! and of thy births, too!
But mine I know, and thine thou knowest not, O Slayer of thy Foes! Albeit I be
Unborn, undying, indestructible,
The Lord of all things living; not the less—
By Maya, by my magic which I stamp
On floating Nature-forms, the primal vast—
I come, and go, and come. When Righteousness Declines, O Bharata! when Wickedness
Is strong, I rise, from age to age, and take Visible shape, and move a man with men,
Succouring the good, thrusting the evil back, And setting Virtue on her seat again.
Who knows the truth touching my births on earth And my divine work, when he quits the flesh Puts on its load no more, falls no more down To earthly birth: to Me he comes, dear Prince!
Many there be who come! from fear set free, From anger, from desire; keeping their hearts Fixed upon me—my Faithful—purified
By sacred flame of Knowledge. Such as these Mix with my being. Whoso worship me,
Them I exalt; but all men everywhere
Shall fall into my path; albeit, those souls Which seek reward for works, make sacrifice Now, to the lower gods. I say to thee
Here have they their reward. But I am He Made the Four Castes, and portioned them a place After their qualities and gifts. Yea, I
Created, the Reposeful; I that live
Immortally, made all those mortal births: For works soil not my essence, being works Wrought uninvolved.[FN#7] Who knows me acting thus Unchained by action, action binds not him; And, so perceiving, all those saints of old Worked, seeking for deliverance. Work thou As, in the days gone by, thy fathers did.
Thou sayst, perplexed, It hath been asked before By singers and by sages, “What is act,
And what inaction? “I will teach thee this, And, knowing, thou shalt learn which work doth save Needs must one rightly meditate those three—
Doing,—not doing,—and undoing. Here
Thorny and dark the path is! He who sees How action may be rest, rest action—he
Is wisest ‘mid his kind; he hath the truth!
He doeth well, acting or resting. Freed
In all his works from prickings of desire, Burned clean in act by the white fire of truth, The wise call that man wise; and such an one, Renouncing fruit of deeds, always content.
Always self-satisfying, if he works,
Doth nothing that shall stain his separate soul, Which—quit of fear and hope—subduing self—
Rejecting outward impulse—yielding up
To body’s need nothing save body, dwells Sinless amid all sin, with equal calm
Taking what may befall, by grief unmoved, Unmoved by joy, unenvyingly; the same
In good and evil fortunes; nowise bound
By bond of deeds. Nay, but of such an one, Whose crave is gone, whose soul is liberate, Whose heart is set on truth—of such an one What work he does is work of sacrifice,
Which passeth purely into ash and smoke
Consumed upon the altar! All’s then God!
The sacrifice is Brahm, the ghee and grain Are Brahm, the fire is Brahm, the flesh it eats Is Brahm, and unto Brahm attaineth he
Who, in such office, meditates on Brahm.
Some votaries there be who serve the gods With flesh and altar-smoke; but other some Who, lighting subtler fires, make purer rite With will of worship. Of the which be they Who, in white flame of continence, consume Joys of the sense, delights of eye and ear, Forgoing tender speech and sound of song: And they who, kindling fires with torch of Truth, Burn on a hidden altar-stone the bliss
Of youth and love, renouncing happiness: And they who lay for offering there their wealth, Their penance, meditation, piety,
Their steadfast reading of the scrolls, their lore Painfully gained with long austerities:
And they who, making silent sacrifice,
Draw in their breath to feed the flame of thought, And breathe it forth to waft the heart on high, Governing the ventage of each entering air Lest one sigh pass which helpeth not the soul: And they who, day by day denying needs,
Lay life itself upon the altar-flame,
Burning the body wan. Lo! all these keep The rite of offering, as if they slew
Victims; and all thereby efface much sin.
Yea! and who feed on the immortal food
Left of such sacrifice, to Brahma pass,
To The Unending. But for him that makes
No sacrifice, he hath nor part nor lot
Even in the present world. How should he share Another, O thou Glory of thy Line?
In sight of Brahma all these offerings
Are spread and are accepted! Comprehend
That all proceed by act; for knowing this, Thou shalt be quit of doubt. The sacrifice Which Knowledge pays is better than great gifts Offered by wealth, since gifts’ worth—O my Prince!
Lies in the mind which gives, the will that serves: And these are gained by reverence, by strong search, By humble heed of those who see the Truth And teach it. Knowing Truth, thy heart no more Will ache with error, for the Truth shall show All things subdued to thee, as thou to Me.
Moreover, Son of Pandu! wert thou worst
Of all wrong-doers, this fair ship of Truth Should bear thee safe and dry across the sea Of thy transgressions. As the kindled flame Feeds on the fuel till it sinks to ash,
So unto ash, Arjuna! unto nought
The flame of Knowledge wastes works’ dross away!
There is no purifier like thereto
In all this world, and he who seeketh it Shall find it—being grown perfect—in himself.
Believing, he receives it when the soul
Masters itself, and cleaves to Truth, and comes—
Possessing knowledge—to the higher peace, The uttermost repose. But those untaught, And those without full faith, and those who fear Are shent; no peace is here or other where, No hope, nor happiness for whoso doubts.
He that, being self-contained, hath vanquished doubt,
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