He says: We have in it [in the _Rig Veda_] a period of the intellectual life of man to which there is no parallel in any other part of the world. In the hymns of the _Veda_ we see man left to himself to solve the riddle of this world.... He invokes the gods around him, he praises, he worships them. But still with all these gods ... beneath him, and above him, the early poet seems ill at rest within himself. There, too, in his own breast, he has discovered a power that is never mute when he prays, never absent when he fears and trembles. It seems to inspire his prayers and yet to listen to them; it seems to live in him, and yet to support him and all around him. The only name he can find for this mysterious power is “Brahman;” for brahman meant originally force, will, wish, and the propulsive power of creation. But this impersonal brahman too, as soon as it is named, grows into something strange and divine. It ends by being one of many gods, one of the great triad, worshipped to the present day. And still the thought within him has no real name; that power which is nothing but itself, which supports the gods, the heavens, and every living being, floats before his mind, conceived but not expressed. At last he calls it “Âtman,” for âtman, originally breath or spirit, comes to mean Self and Self alone, Self, whether divine or human; Self, whether creating or suffering; Self, whether One or All; but always Self, independent and free. “Who has seen the first‐born?” says the poet, “when he who had no bones (_i.e._, form) bore him that had bones? Where was the life, the blood, the Self of the world? Who went to ask this from any one who knew it? (_Rig Veda_, I, 164, 4.) This idea of a divine Self once expressed, everything else must acknowledge its supremacy; _Self_ is the Lord of all things; it is the King of all things; as all the spokes of a wheel are contained in the nave and circumference, all things are contained in this Self; all selves are contained in this _Self_.” (Brihadâranyaka, IV. v. 15).(506)