ahma_n_as, and more particularly in what is called the Upanishads,
or the Vedanta portion, these thoughts advance to perfect clearness
and definiteness. Here the development of religious thought, which
took its beginning in the hymns, attains to its fulfilment. The circle
becomes complete. Instead of comprehending the One by many names, the
many names are now comprehended to be the One. The old names are
openly discarded; even such titles as Pra_g_apati, lord of creatures,
Vi_s_vakarman, maker of all things, Dhat_ri_, creator, are put aside
as inadequate. The name now used is an expression of nothing but the
purest and highest subjectiveness--it is A t m a n, the Self, far more
abstract than our E g o--the Self of all things, the Self of all the old
mythological gods--for they were not _mere_ names, but names intended
for something--lastly, the Self in which each individual self must
find rest, must come to himself, must find his own true Self.

You may remember that I spoke to you in my first lecture of a boy who
insisted on being sacrificed by his father, and who, when he came to
Yama, the ruler of the departed, was granted three boons, and who then
requested, as his third boon, that Yama should tell him what became of
man after death. That dialogue forms part of one of the Upanishads, it
belongs to the Vedanta, the end of the Veda, the highest aim of the
Veda. I shall read you a few extracts from it.

Yama, the King of the Departed, says:

"Men who are fools, dwelling in ignorance, though wise in
their own sight, and puffed up with vain knowledge, go round
and round, staggering to and fro, like blind led by the
blind.

"The future never rises before the eyes of the careless
child, deluded by the delusions of wealth. _This_ is the
world, he thinks; there is no other; thus he falls again and
again under my sway (the sway of death).

"The wise, who by means of meditating on his _Self_,
recognizes the Old (the old man within) who is difficult to
see, who has entered into darkness, who is hidden in the
cave, who dwells in the abyss, as God, he indeed leaves joy
and sorrow far behind.

"That Self, the Knower, is not born, it dies not; it came
from nothing, it never became anything. The Old man is
unborn, from everlasting to everlasting; he is not killed,
though the body be killed.

"That Self is smaller than small, greater than great; hidden