Lecture II
SCHOOLS OF THOUGHT
In studying psychology anyone who is acquainted with the Sanskrit
tongue must know how valuable that language is for precise and
scientific dealing with the subject. The Sanskrit, or the well-made,
the constructed, the built-together, tongue, is one that lends itself
better than any other to the elucidation of psychological
difficulties. Over and over again, by the mere form of a word, a hint
is given, an explanation or relation is suggested. The language is
constructed in a fashion which enables a large number of meanings to
be connoted by a single word, so that you may trace all allied ideas,
,or truths, or facts, by this verbal connection, when you are speaking
or using Sanskrit. It has a limited number of important roots, and
then an immense number of words constructed on those roots.
Now the root of the word yoga is a word that means " to join," yuj,
and that root appears in many languages, such as the English--of
course, through the Latin, wherein you get jugare, jungere, "to
join"--and out of that a number of English words are derived and will
at once suggest themselves to you: junction, conjunction, disjunction,
and so on. The English word "yoke" again, is derived from this same
Sanskrit root so that all through the various words, or thoughts, or
facts connected with this one root, you are able to gather the meaning
of the word yoga and to see how much that word covers in the ordinary
processes of the mind and how suggestive many of the words connected
with it are, acting, so to speak, as sign-posts to direct you along
the road to the meaning. In other tongues, as in French, we have a
word like rapport, used constantly in English; " being en rapport," a
French expression, but so Anglicized that it is continually heard
amongst ourselves. And that term, in some ways, is the closest to the
meaning of the Sanskrit word yoga; "to be in relation to"; "to be
connected with"; "to enter into"; "to merge in"; and so on: all these
ideas are classified together under the one head of "Yoga". When you
find Sri Krishna saying that "Yoga is equilibrium," in the Sanskrit He
is saying a perfectly obvious thing, because Yoga implies balance,
yoking and the Sanskrit of equilibrium is "samvata--togetherness"; so
that it is a perfectly simple, straightforward statment, not connoting
anything very deep, but merely expressing one of the fundamental
meanings of the word He is using. And so with another word, a word
used in the commentary on the Sutra I quoted before, which conveys to
the Hindu a perfectly straightforward meaning: "Yoga is Samadhi." To
an only English-knowing person that does not convey any very definite
idea; each word needs explanation. To a Sanskrit-knowing man the two
words are obviously related to one another. For the word yoga, we have
seen, means "yoked together," and Samadhi derived from the root dha,
"to place," with the prepositions sam and a, meaning "completely
together". Samadhi, therefore, literally means " fully placing
together," and its etymological equivalent in English would be " to
compose " (com=sam; posita= place). Samadhi therefore means "composing
the mind," collecting it together, checking all distractions.
Thus by philological, as well as by practical, investigation the
two words yoga and samadhi are inseparably linked together. And when
Vyasa, the commentator, says: "Yoga is the composed mind," he is
conveying a clear and significant idea as to what is implied in Yoga.
Although Samadhi has come to mean, by a natural sequence of ideas, the
trance-state which results from perfect composure, its original
meaning should not be lost sight of. Thus, in explaining Yoga, one is
often at a loss for the English equivalent of the manifold meanings of
the Sanskrit tongue, and I earnestly advise those of you who can do
so, at least to acquaint yourselves sufficiently with this admirable
language, to make the literature of Yoga more intelligible to you than
it can be to a person who is completely ignorant of Sanskrit.
Its Relation to Indian Philosophies
Let me ask you to think for a while on the place of Yoga in its
relation to two of the great Hindu schools of philosophical thought,
for neither the Westerner nor the non-Sanskrit-knowing Indian can ever
really understand the translations of the chief Indian books, now
current here and in the West, and the force of all the allusions they
make, unless they acquaint themselves in some degree with the outlines
of these great schools of philosophy, they being the very foundation
on which these books are built up. Take the Bhagavad-Gita. Probably
there are many who know that book fairly well, who use it as the book
to help in the spiritual life, who are not familiar with most of its
precepts. But you must always be more or less in a fog in reading it,
unless you realise the fact that it is founded on a particular Indian
philosophy and that the meaning of nearly all the technical words in
it is practically limited by their meaning in philosophy known as the
Samkhya. There are certain phrases belonging rather to the Vedanta,
but the great majority are Samkhyan, and it is taken for granted that
the people reading or using the book are familiar with the outline of
the Samkhyan philosophy. I do not want to take you into details, but I
must give you the leading ideas of the philosophy. For if you grasp
these, you will not only read your Bhagavad-Gita with much more
intelligence than before, but you will be able to use it practically
for yogic purposes in a way that, without this knowledge, is almost
impossible.
Alike in the Bhagavad-Gita and in the Yoga-sutras of Patanjali the
terms are Samkhyan, and historically Yoga is based on the Samkhya, so
far as its philosophy is concerned. Samkhya does not concern itself
with, the existence of Deity, but only with the becoming of a
universe, the order of evolution. Hence it is often called Nir-isvara
Samkhya, the Samkhya without God. But so closely is it bound up with
the Yoga system, that the latter is called Sesvara Samkhya, with God.
For its understanding, therefore, I must outline part of the Samkhya
philosophy, that part which deals with the relation of Spirit and
matter; note the difference from this of the Vedantic conception of
Self and Not-Self, and then find the reconciliation in the Theosophic
statement of the facts in nature. The directions which fall from the
lips of the Lord of Yoga in the Gita may sometimes seem to you opposed
to each other and contradictory, because they sometimes are phrased in
the Samkhyan and sometimes in the Vedantic terms, starting from
different standpoints, one looking at the world from the standpoint of
matter, the other from the standpoint of Spirit. If you are a student
of Theosophy, then the knowledge of the facts will enable you to
translate the different phrases. That reconciliation and understanding
of these apparently contradictory phrases is the object to which I
would ask your attention now.
The Samkhyan School starts with the statement that the universe
consists of two factors, the first pair of opposites, Spirit and
Matter, or more accurately Spirits and Matter. The Spirit is called
Purusha--the Man; and each Spirit is an individual. Purusha is a unit,
a unit of consciousness; they are all of the same nature, but distinct
everlastingly the one from the other. Of these units there are many;
countless Purushas are to be found in the world of men. But while they
are countless in number they are identical in nature, they are
homogeneous. Every Purusha has three characteristics, and these three
are alike in all. One characteristic is awareness; it will become
cognition. The second of the characteristics is life or prana; it will
become activity. The third characteristic is immutability, the essence
of eternity; it will become will. Eternity is not, as some mistakenly
think, everlasting time. Everlasting time has nothing to do with
eternity. Time and eternity are two altogether different things.
Eternity is changeless, immutable, simultaneous. No succession in
time, albeit everlasting--if such could be--could give eternity. The
fact that Purusha has this attribute of immutability tells us that He
is eternal; for changelessness is a mark of the eternal.
Such are the three attributes of Purusha, according to the Samkhya.
Though these are not the same in nomenclature as the Vedantic Sat,
Chit, Ananda, yet they are practically identical. Awareness or
cognition is Chit; life or force is Sat; and immutability, the essence
of eternity, is Ananda.
Over against these Purushas, homogeneous units, countless in
number, stands Prakriti, Matter, the second in the Samkhyan duality.
Prakriti is one; Purushas are many. Prakriti is a continuum; Purushas
are discontinuous, being innumerable, homogeneous units. Continuity is
the mark of Prakriti. Pause for a moment on the name Prakriti. Let us
investigate its root meaning. The name indicates its essence. Pra
means "forth," and kri is the root "make". Prakriti thus means
"forth-making ". Matter is that which enables the essence of Being to
become. That which is Being--is-tence, becomes ex-is-tence--outbeing,
by Matter, and to describe Matter as "forth-making" is to give its
essence in a single word. Only by Prakriti can Spirit, or Purusha,
"forth-make" or "manifest" himself. Without the presence of Prakriti,
Purusha is helpless, a mere abstraction. Only by the presence of, and
in Prakriti, can Purusha make manifest his powers. Prakriti has also
three characteristics, the well-known gunas--attributes or qualities.
These are rhythm, mobility and inertia. Rhythm enables awareness to
become cognition. Mobility enables life to become activity. Inertia
enables immutability to become will.
Now the conception as to the relation of Spirit to Matter is a very
peculiar one, and confused ideas about it give rise to many
misconceptions. If you grasp it, the Bhagavad-Gita becomes
illuminated, and all the phrases about action and actor, and the
mistake of saying "I act," become easy to understand, as implying
technical Samkhyan ideas.
The three qualities of Prakriti, when Prakriti is thought of as
away from Purusha, are in equilibrium, motionless, poised the one
against the other, counter-balancing and neutralizing each other, so
that Matter is called jada, unconscious, "dead". But in the presence
of Purusha all is changed. When Purusha is in propinquity to Matter,
then there is a change in Matter--not outside, but in it.
Purusha acts on Prakriti by propinquity, says Vyasa. It comes near
Prakriti, and Prakriti begins to live. The "coming near" is a figure
of speech, an adaptation to our ideas of time and space, for we cannot
posit "nearness" of that which is timeless and spaceless--Spirit. By
the word propinquity is indicated an influence exerted by Purusha on
Prakriti, and this, where material objects are concerned, would be
brought about by their propinquity. If a magnet be brought near to a
piece of soft iron or an electrified body be brought near to a neutral
one, certain changes are wrought in the soft iron or in the neutral
body by that bringing near. The propinquity of the magnet makes the
soft iron a magnet; the qualities of the magnet are produced in it, it
manifests poles, it attracts steel, it attracts or repels the end of
an electric needle. In the presence of a postively electrified body
the electricity in a neutral body is re-arranged, and the positive
retreats while the negative gathers near the electrified body. An
internal change has occurred in both cases from the propinquity of
another object. So with Purusha and Prakriti. Purusha does nothing,
but from Purusha there comes out an influence, as in the case of the
magnetic influence. The three gunas, under this influence of Purusha,
undergo a marvellous change. I do not know what words to use, in order
not to make a mistake in putting it. You cannot say that Prakriti
absorbs the influence. You can hardly say that it reflects the Purusha.
But the presence of Purusha brings about certain internal changes,
causes a difference in the equilibrium of the three gunas in Prakriti.
The three gunas were in a state of equilibrium. No guna was manifest.
One guna was balanced against another. What happens when Purusha
influences Prakriti? The quality of awareness in Purusha is taken up
by, or reflected in, the guna called Sattva-- rhythm, and it becomes
cognition in Prakriti. The quality that we call life in Purusha is
taken up by, or reflected, in the guna called Rajas--mobility, and it
becomes force, energy, activity, in Prakriti. The quality that we call
immutability in Purusha is taken up by, or reflected, in the guna
called Tamas--inertia, and shows itself out as will or desire in
Prakriti. So that, in that balanced equilibrium of Prakriti, a change
has taken place by the mere propinquity of, or presence of, the
Purusha. The Purusha has lost nothing, but at the same time a change
has taken place in matter. Cognition has appeared in it. Activity,
force, has appeared in it. Will or desire has appeared in it. With
this change in Prakriti another change occurs. The three attributes of
Purusha cannot be separated from each other, nor can the three
attributes of Prakriti be separated each from each. Hence rhythm,
while appropriating awareness, is under the influence of the whole
three-in-one Purusha and cannot but also take up subordinately life
and immutability as activity and will. And so with mobility and
inertia. In combinations one quality or another may predominate, and
we may have combinations which show preponderantly awareness-rhythm,
or life- mobility, or immutability-inertia. The combinations in which
awareness-rhythm or cognition predominates become "mind in nature,"
the subject or subjective half of nature. Combinations in which either
of the other two predominates become the object or objective half of
nature, the " force and matter " of the western scientist.[FN#7: A
friend notes that the first is the Suddha Sattva of the Ramanuja
School, and the second and third the Prakriti, or spirit-matter, in
the lower sense of the same.]
We have thus nature divided into two, the subject and the object.
We have now in nature everything that is wanted for the manifestation
of activity, for the production of forms and for the expression of
consciousness. We have mind, and we have force and matter. Purusha has
nothing more to do, for he has infused all powers into Prakriti and
sits apart, contemplating their interplay, himself remaining
unchanged. The drama of existence is played out within Matter, and all
that Spirit does is to look at it. Purusha is the spectator before
whom the drama is played. He is not the actor, but only a spectator.
The actor is the subjective part of nature, the mind, which is the
reflection of awareness in rhythmic matter. That with which it
works--objective nature, is the reflection of the other qualities of
Purusha--life and immutability--in the gunas, Rajas and Tamas. Thus we
have in nature everything that is wanted for the production of the
universe. The Putusha only looks on when the drama is played before
him. He is spectator, not actor. This is the predominant note of the
Bhagavad-Gita. Nature does everything. The gunas bring about the
universe. The man who says: "I act," is mistaken and confused; the
gunas act, not he. He is only the spectator and looks on. Most of the
Gita teaching is built upon this conception of the Samkhya, and unless
that is clear in our minds we can never discriminate the meaning under
the phrases of a particular philosophy.
Let us now turn to the Vedantic idea. According to the Vedantic
view the Self is one, omnipresent, all-permeating, the one reality.
Nothing exists except the Self--that is the starting-point in Vedanta.
All permeating, all-controlling, all-inspiring, the Self is everywhere
present. As the ether permeates all matter, so does the One Self
permeate, restrain, support, vivify all. It is written in the Gita
that as the air goes everywhere, so is the Self everywhere in the
infinite diversity of objects. As we try to follow the outline of
Vedantic thought, as we try to grasp this idea of the one universal
Self, who is existence, consciousness, bliss, Sat-Chit-Ananda, we find
that we are carried into a loftier region of philosophy than that
occupied by the Samkhya. The Self is One. The Self is everywhere
conscious, the Self is everywhere existent, the Self is everywhere
blissful. There is no division between these qualities of the Self.
Everywhere, all-embracing, these qualities are found at every point,
in every place. There is no spot on which you can put your finger and
say "The Self is not here." Where the Self is--and He is
everywhere--there is existence, there is consciousness, and there is
bliss. The Self, being consciousness, imagines limitation, division.
From that imagination of limitation arises form, diversity, manyness.
From that thought of the Self, from that thought of limitation, all
diversity of the many is born. Matter is the limitation imposed upon
the Self by His own will to limit Himself. "Eko'ham, bahu syam," "I am
one; I will to he many"; "let me be many," is the thought of the One;
and in that thought, the manifold universe comes into existence. In
that limitation, Self-created, He exists, He is conscious, He is
happy. In Him arises the thought that He is Self-existence, and
behold! all existence becomes possible. Because in Him is the will to
manifest, all manifestation at once comes into existence. Because in
Him is all bliss, therefore is the law of life the seeking for
happiness, the essential characteristic of every sentient creature.
The universe appears by the Self-limitation in thought of the Self.
The moment the Self ceases to think it, the universe is not, it
vanishes as a dream. That is the fundamental idea of the Vedanta. Then
it accepts the spirits of the Samkhya-- the Purushas; but it says that
these spirits are only reflections of the one Self, emanated by the
activity of the Self and that they all reproduce Him in miniature,
with the limitations which the universal Self has imposed upon them,
which are apparently portions of the universe, but are really
identical with Him. It is the play of the Supreme Self that makes the
limitations, and thus reproduces within limitations the qualities of
the Self; the consciousness of the Self, of the Supreme Self; becomes,
in the particularised Self, cognition, the power to know; and the
existence of the Self becomes activity, the power to manifest; and the
bliss of the Self becomes will, the deepest part of all, the longing
for happiness, for bliss; the resolve to obtain it is what we call
will. And so in the limited, the power to know, and the power to act,
and the power to will, these are the reflections in the particular
Self of the essential qualities of the universal Self. Otherwise put:
that which was universal awareness becomes now cognition in the
separated Self; that which in the universal Self was awareness of
itself becomes in the limited Self awareness of others; the awareness
of the whole becomes the cognition of the individual. So with the
existence of the Self: the Self-existence of the universal Self
becomes, in the limited Self, activity, preservation of existence. So
does the bliss of the universal Self, in the limited expression of the
individual Self, become the will that seeks for happiness, the
Self-determination of the Self, the seeking for Self-realisation, that
deepest essence of human life.
The difference comes with limitation, with the narrowing of the
universal qualities into the specific qualities of the limited Self;
both are the same in essence, though seeming different in
manifestation. We have the power to know, the power to will, and the
power to act. These are the three great powers of the Self that show
themselves in the separated Self in every diversity of forms, from the
minutes" organism to the loftiest Logos.
Then just as in the Samkhya, if the Purusha, the particular Self,
should identify himself with the matter in which he is reflected, then
there is delusion and bondage, so in the Vedanta, if the Self,
eternally free, imagines himself to be bound by matter, identifying
himself with his limitations, he is deluded, he is under the domain of
Maya; for Maya is the self-identification of the Self with his
limitations. The eternally free can never be bound by matter; the
eternally pure can never be tainted by matter; the eternally knowing
can never be deluded by matter; the eternally Self-determined can
never be ruled by matter, save by his own ignorance. His own foolish
fancy limits his inherent powers; he is bound, because he imagines
himself bound; he is impure, because he imagines himself impure; he is
ignorant, because he imagines himself ignorant. With the vanishing of
delusion he finds that he is eternally pure, eternally wise.
Here is the great difference between the Samkhya and the Vedanta.
According to the Samkhya, Purusha is the spectator and never the
actor. According to Vedanta the Self is the only actor, all else is
maya: there is no one else who acts but the Self, according to the
Vedanta teaching. As says the Upanishad: the Self willed to see, and
there were eyes; the Self willed to hear, and there were ears; the
Self willed to think, and there was mind. The eyes, the ears, the mind
exist, because the Self has willed them into existence. The Self
appropriates matter, in order that He may manifest His powers through
it. There is the distinction between the Samkhya and the Vedanta: in
the Samkhya the propinquity of the Purusha brings out in matter or
Prakriti all these characteristics, the Prakriti acts and not the
Purusha; in the Vedanta, Self alone exists and Self alone acts; He
imagines limitation and matter appears; He appropriates that matter in
order that He may manifest His own capacity.
The Samkhya is the view of the universe of the scientist: the
Vedanta is the view of the universe of the metaphysician. Haeckel
unconsciously expounded the Samkhyan philosophy almost perfectly. So
close to the Samkhyan is his exposition, that another idea would make
it purely Samkhyan; he has not yet supplied that propinquity of
consciousness which the Samkhya postulates in its ultimate duality. He
has Force and Matter, he has Mind in Matter, but he has no Purusha.
His last book, criticised by Sir Oliver Lodge, is thoroughly
intelligible from the Hindu standpoint as an almost accurate
representation of Samkhyan philosophy. It is the view of the
scientist, indifferent to the "why" of the facts which he records. The
Vedanta, as I said, is the view of the metaphysician he seeks the
unity in which all diversities are rooted and into which they are
resolved.
Now, what light does Theosophy throw on both these systems?
Theosophy enables every thinker to reconcile the partial statements
which are apparently so contradictory. Theosophy, with the Vedanta,
proclaims the universal Self. All that the Vedanta says of the
universal Self and the Self- limitation, Theosophy repeats. We call
these Self-limited selves Monads, and we say, as the Vedantin says,
that these Monads reproduce the nature of the universal Self whose
portions they are. And hence you find in them the three qualities
which you find in the Supreme. They are units' and these represent the
Purushas of the Samkhya; but with a very great difference, for they
are not passive watchers, but active agents in the drama of the
universe, although, being above the fivefold universe, they are as
spectators who pull the strings of the players of the stage. The Monad
takes to himself from the universe of matter atoms which show out the
qualities corresponding to his three qualities, and in these he
thinks, and wills and acts. He takes to himself rhythmic combinations,
and shows his quality of cognition. He takes to himself combinations
that are mobile; through those he shows out his activity. He takes the
combinations that are inert, and shows out his quality of bliss, as
the will to be happy. Now notice the difference of phrase and thought.
In the Samkhya, Matter changed to reflect the Spirit; in fact, the
Spirit appropriates portions of Matter, and through those expresses
his own characteristics--an enormous difference. He creates an actor
for Self-expression, and this actor is the "spiritual man" of the
Theosophical teaching, the spiritual Triad, the Atma-buddhi-manas, to
whom we shall return in a moment.
The Monad remains ever beyond the fivefold universe, and in that
sense is a spectator. He dwells beyond the five planes of matter.
Beyond the Atmic, or Akasic; beyond the Buddhic plane, the plane of
Vayu; beyond the mental plane, the plane of Agni; beyond the astral
plane, the plane of Varuna; beyond the physical plane, the plane of
Kubera. Beyond all these planes the Monad, the Self, stands
Self-conscious and Self-determined. He reigns in changeless peace and
lives in eternity. But as said above, he appropriates matter. He takes
to himself an atom of the Atmic plane, and in that he, as it were,
incorporates his will, and that becomes Atma. He appropriates an atom
of the Buddhic plane, and reflects in that his aspect of cognition,
and that becomes buddhi. He appropriates an atom of the manasic plane
and embodies, as it were, his activity in it, and it becomes Manas.
Thus we get Atma, plus Buddhi, plus Manas. That triad is the
reflection in the fivefold universe of the Monad beyond the fivefold
universe. The terms of Theosophy can be easily identified with those
of other schools. The Monad of Theosophy is the Jivatma of Indian
philosophy, the Purusha of the Samkhya, the particularised Self of the
Vedanta. The threefold manifestation, Atma-buddhi-manas, is the result
of the Purusha's propinquity to Prakriti, the subject of the Samkhyan
philosophy, the Self embodied in the highest sheaths, according to the
Vedantic teaching. In the one you have this Self and His sheaths, and
in the other the Subject, a reflection in matter of Purusha. Thus you
can readily see that you are dealing with the same concepts but they
are looked at from different standpoints. We are nearer to the Vedanta
than to the Samkhya, but if you know the principles you can put the
statements of the two philosophies in their own niches and will not be
confused. Learn the principles and you can explain all the theories.
That is the value of the Theosophical teaching; it gives you the
principles and leaves you to study the philosophies, and you study
them with a torch in your hand instead of in the dark.
Now when we understand the nature of the spiritual man, or Triad,
what do we find with regard to all the manifestations of
consciousness? That they are duads, Spirit-Matter everywhere, on every
plane of our fivefold universe. If you are a scientist, you will call
it spiritualised Matter; if you are a metaphysician you will call it
materialised Spirit. Either phrase is equally true, so long as you
remember that both are always present in every manifestation, that
what you see is not the play of matter alone, but the play of
Spirit-Matter, inseparable through the period of manifestation. Then,
when you come, in reading an ancient book, to the statement "mind is
material," you will not be confused; you will know that the writer is
only speaking on the Samkhyan line, which speaks of Matter everywhere
but always implies that the Spirit is looking on, and that this
presence makes the work of Matter possible. You will not, when reading
the constant statement in Indian philosophies that "mind is material,"
confuse this with the opposite view of the materialist which says that
"mind is the product of matter"--a very different thing. Although the
Samkhyan may use materialistic terms, he always posits the vivifying
influence of Spirit, while the materialist makes Spirit the product of
Matter. Really a gulf divides them, although the language they use may
often be the same..
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