But the delusion is temporary and far from complete. The longing, the search for something still wanting, is present all through that delusion—something unknown, but which he thinks he might know and recognize, if he once found it. But, alas, he does not! Poor Man! He does not know the secret of true happiness, the happiness which is complete in itself, which never ends, which, once secured, never falls short or vanishes, which flows from within the heart through all the channels of the body, out through the pores of it in a continual stream of ecstasy. He does not know that this thing, this unending happiness, is not to be found in material objects; that it cannot be secured by the means or by the instincts of the physical senses, which cognize only material objects. And why? Why is it that material objects fail to give us that true and absolute happiness, fail to satisfy the hunger of the yearning human heart for that unknown something which it feels somehow must exist, but which ever eludes its ken and quest, and which, alas! it does not realize that it once knew, that it once owned by right of heritage? The answer is simple, and ought to be convincing to every thoughtful mind. The answer is: Because material objects are changeful in their nature and principle; because, being nothing but forms of changefulness, they do not possess this permanent, this unchangeable happiness, to give it to those who seek to derive it from them. An object whose very principle is changefulness can afford nothing which is not changeful in its nature. All the pleasures, therefore, that we derive from material objects must necessarily be changeful, which means short-lived, pleasures of short duration, broken pleasure, distinguished by the Hindoos from unbroken pleasure, which, because of its unbrokenness and ecstatic taste, ceases to be called pleasure and assumes the name of Bliss.