other than of such answer, rise again and yet agaiu, like well
armed foes that are only stunned and slightly wounded and
not slain. This most helpful answer thou shalt find, 0 Rama !,
if thou thinkest deeply on the true nature of Time, and Space,
and Change.
"Thy question tacitly assumes the truth of these, as I
indicated even now.
^That one Being" should cast forth another or others from
Itself, and re-absorb these back into Itself—this Change
implies both Time and Space. If Time and Space were not,
such change and such succession could not be, nor would there
be the co-existence of the Many. If thou couldst see that the
Supreme works not in Time and Space, but that both these are
in Its Being, then would thy question have been answered
finally; then would the doubt vanish for evermore; then
shouldst thou see that all the Changeful Process of Samsara is
a Frozen Dream, a Changeless Vision in the Changelessness of
the Eternal; for, where there is No Change, there cannot be
question of Why and Whence, Whereto and How.
^<(! shall try to make this clear to thee. In the mean-
time, ponder a while on this. What happens when a great
playwright carries in his mind the whole of a great drama,
complete, from beginning to end, with all its acts and scenes
and hundred characters, each playing a different part, and
sensing, thinking, desiring, feeling, willing, acting countless
sensations, thoughts, desires, emotions, volitions, actions ?
Are they not all at once, there, in the dramatist's mind ? Is
there any time or space or motion in that state ? And are
these^ mental characters and acts and scenes different from
the playwright ? Are they not identical with his mind, his
consciousness, his very self ? Yet if the drama were enacted
on a stage, or even written out on paper, it would become
invested, at once, with time and space and motion, to the