nses, and with mind undividedly united by the aid of meditation (with
the Supreme Soul). He has no perception of sound through the ear; no
perception of touch through the skin; no perception of form through the
eye; no perception of taste through the tongue. He has no perception also
of scents through the organ of smell. Immersed in yoga, he would abandon
all things, rapt in meditation. Possessed of great energy of mind, he has
no desire for anything that excites the five senses. The wise man,
withdrawing his five senses into the mind, should then fix the unstable
mind with the five senses (into the Intellect). Possessed of patience,
the yogin should fix his mind which always wanders (among worldly
objects), so that his five gates (under the influence of training) may be
made stable in respect of things that are themselves unstable. He should,
in the firmament of the heart, fix his mind into the path of meditation,
making it independent of the body or any other refuge. I have spoken of
the path of meditation as the first, since the yogin has first to crush
his senses and the mind (and direct them to that path). The mind, which
constitutes the sixth, when thus restrained, seeks to flash out like the
capricious and flighty lightning moving in frolic among the clouds. As a
drop of water on a (lotus) leaf is unstable and moves about in all
directions, even so becomes the yogin's mind when first fixed on the path
of meditation. When fixed, for a while the mind stays in that path. When,
however, it strays again into the path of the wind, it becomes as flighty
as the wind. The person conversant with the ways of yoga-meditation,
undiscouraged by this, never regarding the loss of the toil undergone,
casting aside idleness and malice, should again direct his mind to
meditation. Observing the vow of silence, when one begins to set his mind
on yoga, then discrimination, knowledge, and power to avoid evil, are
gained by him.[619] Though feeling annoyed in consequence of the
flightiness of his mind, he should fix it (in meditation). The yogin
should never despair, but seek his own good. As a heap of dust or ashes,
or of burnt cow-dung, when drenched with water, does not seem to be
soaked, indeed, as it continues dry if drenched partially, and requires
incessant drenching before it becomes thoroughly soaked, even thus should
the yogin gradually control all his senses. He should gradually withdraw
them (from all objects). The man that act