A History of Indian Literature v1.c8.s9.19

v1.c8.s9.19

'Fetch me a fruit from yonder fig-tree!' 'Here it is, venerable one.' 'Split it' 'It is split, venerable one' 'What dost thou see therein?' 'Very tiny grains, venerable one!' 'Split one of these!' 'It is split.' 'What seest thou therein?' 'Nothing, venerable one.' Then said the father to him: 'My dear one, it is as a result of that very quintessence which thou dost not perceive, that this big fig-tree stands here. Believe me, my dear one, it is this very minute thing which constitutes the being of the All, that is the truth, that is the Ātman, *that art thou*, O Śvetaketu!' 'Venerable one, instruct me yet further.' 'Very well, my dear one.'