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BRAHMAJIJNASA
OR
An Inquiry into fclie Philosophical Basis of Theism
BY THE SAME AUTHOR
1. The Vedanta and its Eelation to Modern
Thought : Twelve lectures on the religion and philo- sophy of the L'panishads and the Vedanta Sutras. Rs. 2-4.
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j^*" To be had of the author at 210/3/2, Comwallis Street, Calcutta. For other works please see the end.
BRAHMAJIJNASA
OR
An Inquiry into the Philosophical Basis of Theism
f Translated from the original Bengali, with
supplementary chapters
BY
SITANATH TATTVABHUSHAN
Headmaster, Kesav Academy ; Sometime Lecturer in Philosophy, City College, Calcutta
Rs. 1-8 or 2s.
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KUNTALINE PRESS
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PREFACE
Bvahmajijndsd in Bengali was first published m 1888. A revised edition, in which many- additions and alterations were made, but the central doctrine remained unchanged, came out
Errata — On p. ii, 1. 19, read ' authors ' tor ' author s,' and 01 p. iii, 1. 21, read " first and second "' for " second and third.'
whom he is proud to count Raja Venkatakumar Mahipati Surya Rao of Pithapuram and the worthy Principal of the Pithapuram Raja's College at Cocanada, Rao Bahadur Venkata- ratnam, m.a., l.t. According to the repeatedly expressed wishes of the latter and through the generous pecuniary support of the former, Brahma- jijndsd was translated by the author in 191 2- 13 and now comes out in its new dress with three
PREFACE
Brahma jijndsd in Bengali was first published in 1888. A revised edition, in which many additions and alterations were made, but the central doctrine remained unchanged, came out in igii. The theory defended and expounded in the book underlies every work written by the author since its first publication. It has therefore been a matter of regret to him that while most of his works are in English, the book containing a detailed exposition of the philosophical views presupposed in them should remain in a pro- vincial language unknown to his non-Bengali readers. This regret was shared by some of the readers and admirers of his English works, among whom he is proud to count Raja Venkatakumar Mahipati Surya Rao of Pithapuram and the worthy Principal of the Pithapuram Raja's College at Cocanada, Rao Bahadur Venkata- ratnam, m.a., l.t. According to the repeatedly expressed wishes of the latter and through the generous pecuniary support of the former, Brahma- jijndsd was translated by the author in 191 2- 13 and now comes out in its new dress with three
11
supplementary chapters recently written. The author's debt of gratitude to the Raja Saheb for the liberal support given to all his later literary efforts was already immense, and is now immeasur- ably enhanced by this last act of kindness, which has enabled him to give a much needed com- pletion to the little system of Theistic Theology contained in his works. Of that system the present book gives the metaphysical basis, the Philosophy of Brahma ism shows the doctrinal, ethical and social development, Brahmasddhan indicates the sddhans or spiritual exercises, and the Vedanta and its Relation to Modern Thought and Krishna and the Gitd define the relation to the elder Theism of the country as presented in the Prasthdnatrayam, the three Vedantic institutes.
The author's intellectual debt will be some- what evident from the names of books and author's given in the foot-notes. The central doctrine will be found to be, in its essence, the Theism of the Upanishads, and in its method, the Neo-Hegelianism of British Idealists. But both in the exposition and elaboration of the doctrine the author will be found to have departed largely from the Vedantists of both the chief schools — those of Sankara and Ramanuja, — as well as from the British Neo-Hegelians. This departure
Ill
will be found chiefly in the third and fourth chapters. The Idealists, though recognising an •element of difference in the fundamental Unity, make little of it, while the Vedantists of Sankara's school ignore it altogether, and the followers of Ramanuja do little more than assert it dogmati- cally on the authority of the scriptures. The author of this book has tried to put the proper emphasis on it and to show its bearing on the doctrine of an ever-active God of love essential to all true Theism.
The Natural Theology of the West recognises three arguments for Theism, (i) the Cosmological or Causal, (2) the Teleological, and (3) the Ontolo- gical. Some theologians recognise a fourth, the Moral. The first three chapters of the book will be found to be one long exposition of the third argument, which, according to Hegel, is the only real argument, and the fourth chapter is devoted to an exposition of the fourth argument. The second and third arguments, as not strictly philosophical, find no place in the original Brahma jijndsd. But as popular arguments, help- ful to the unphilosophical mind, and as steps leading to the Ontological Argument, they are given in the supplementary chapter on the " Theistic Presuppositions of Science." The two
IV
other supplementary chapters give brief accounts of some of the chief systems of British and American thought that have appeared or become prominent since the book was first published. They were written as articles for a weekly paper and were not intended to form parts of a book on Philosophy. But it is hoped that they will not fail to prove suggestive and lead to more serious studies on the subjects touched upon in them.
Though deeply conscious of its defects and imperfections, the author yet humbly commends Brahmajijndsd to students of Philosophy with the hope that it may, under divine blessing, introduce them to higher and deeper studies in Metaphysics and Theology and awaken in them an aspiration after communion with the God who loves and lives in all.
Calcutta, August, 1916.
CONTENTS
Chapters and Sections Page Chapter I : The Self and the Not-self ... i — 89 Section i — Self-consciousness and object-con- sciousness ... ... I — 18
Section 2 — Mind and Matter ... ... 18 — 57
Section 3 — Refutation of Naturalism ... 58 — 75
Section 4 — Knowledge and the Senses ... 76 — 81
Section 5 — The Self — Universal and Individual 82 — 89
Chapter II : The Temporal axd the Eternal 90 — 145 Section i — Sensationalism and Subjective
Idealism ... ... 90 — 100
Section 2 — Knowledge a Unity-in-difference 100 — 107 Section 3 — Knowledge and Will ... 108 — 112
Section 4 — Time and Events ... ... 112 — 121
Section 5 — Knowledge and Time ... 121 — 129
Section 6 — The Omniscience of God ... 129 — 140
Section 7 — The Mystery of Creation ... 140 — 145
Chapter III: Unity and Difference .,. 146 — 167
Section i — The Unity and Infinitude of God 146 — 150 Section 2 — Unity-in-difference ... ... 150 — 157
Section 3 — Dualism, Monism and the Doc- trine of Unity-in-difference ... 157 — 167
Chapter IV : The Perfect and the Imperfect 168 — 198 Section i — The Divine Love and Holiness ... 168 — 180 Section 2 — God's Love to Individuals ... 180 — 188
Section 3 — The Mystery of Evil ... 188 — 198
11
Chapter A : Theistic Presupppositions of
Science ... ... igg — 231
Chapter B : Mr. Bradley on the Divine Person- ality ... ... ... 232 — 239
Chapter C : Monism, Pluralism and their Re- conciliation ... ... 240 — 256
#
CHAPTER I THE SELF AND THE NOT-SELF
Section i — Self-consciousness and object- consciousness
At the very commencement of our discussion I beg the reader to retire to a solitary place and meditate on the self. Let him draw away his mind, so far as he can, from external objects, and stop the activity of his senses — cease to see, hear and touch. Let all thoughts of external objects also cease and let the mind be quiet and at rest. Perhaps, even when all other objects have moved away from the mind, one will still remain — darkness or the thought of darkness. That how- ever will not make much difference. Now, in this dark, quiet, and lonely place, — in this calm, unruffled state, — let the reader try to realise his
2 SELF-CONSCIOUS\ESS & OBJECT-CONSCIOUSXESS CHAP.
self. Let him now have a close vision of that which he is apt to forget almost totally in his absorption in external objects. Let him see by introspection that though all external lights are put out, the light of the self is not put out. The self is shining by its own light and lighting the darkness too. The self is conscious of itself as the subject, the knower, and of the darkness as the object, the known ; the self reveals itself as consciousness. Let the reader closely attend to this characteristic of the self, — its consciousness. It has other characteristics also, but they all depend upon this — they all shine in its light.* Consciousness is the very life of the self, it is consciousness itself. Hence- forth we shall often speak of the self as only consciousness. However, let the reader see now, that in this fundamental characteristic of the self, — consciousness, — there is a sort of distinction or difference — a difference, as it were, of the root and the branch, of the support and the sup- ported. That the self knows itself — its self-cons- ciousness— is the fundamental fact, while its know- ledge of the object, darkness, depends on its self-
* ' Tasya bhdsd sarvam idam vibhdti ' — Miindaka Upa- nishad, II. 2. 10.
SELF-COXSCIOUSXESS FUNDAMENTAL
consciousness. The self cannot know darkness without knowing itself. Not that the self knows itself first and the next moment knows darkness. The fact is that the self knows itself and darkness at once, by the same undivided act of knowing. Nevertheless self-consciousness is the essential * condition and ground of the consciousness of darkness. To be conscious of darkness, one must necessarily be conscious of one's self : dark- ness cannot be known without the knowledge of the self. It is not possible to know mere dark- ness. In the knowledge of darkness the whole content of knowledge involved is / know darkness. Darkness cannot be known without the knowing "I." If the reader doubts this, he may try if he can think of darkness without thinking of his self. If he says, "Yes, I perceived darkness with- out knowing my self ; when I perceived darkness, I did not know my self," then I shall put two questions to him. You say that when you perceived darkness you did not know your own self, did not know the knower, — the fact 'I know' was not included in the content of your know- ledge. All right ; let me take this for granted. But I ask you — What is the proof of your having perceived darkness ? You will say that the proof is remembrance, — that it lies in the fact that. you
4 SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS & OBJECT-CONSCIOUSNESS CHAP.
remember to have perceived darkness. Well, then the content of your remembrance is this — ' I then knew darkness,' that is, ' I knew ' + ' dark- ness ' are the two indivisible contents of your remembrance. You must admit that nothing can be remembered that was not once known, that it is only things known that can be remem-' bered. What is remembered must once have been known. Therefore, as you remember ' I knew,' this fact must have been known to you, that is, at the time of knowing darkness, 'I know' must have formed a content of your knowledge. And yet you said a moment before that you per- ceived mere darkness, — that at the time you per- ceived darkness you had no knowledge of your self — that ' I know ' formed no content of your know- ledge. The reader sees then that to think that darkness can be known without knowing the self is only the result of inadvertence. To know darkness, one must necessarily know the self ; self-consciousness is the condition and support of the consciousness of darkness, — the knowledge of darkness is absolutely impossible without the knowledge of the self.
Let us now proceed a little further. Let the reader open his eyes and look at some object. Suppose he sees a piece of paper, the white colour
ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE TRUTH
of which has taken the place of darkness. It may seem that immediately on opening the eyes, immediately on looking at the paper, he has reached the external world and gone entirely out of the inner world, the world of the self. But ^the fact is not so : he has not gone an inch out of the impassable limits of self-consciousness. Whatever we have said of the knowledge of darkness, is true also of this knowledge of colour. He will see that in knowing this colour too, he must necessarily know the self that knows it. As self-consciousness is the necessary support of the consciousness of darkness, so is it of the consciousness of colour ; the latter is not a bit more independent than the former. The know- ledge of colour is impossible without the know- ledge of the self. In the knowledge of colour, the whole content involved is " I know colour." If the reader has any doubt of the matter, he has only to apply the test already proposed, and he will see that to suppose that the knowledge of colour is possible without the knowledge of self, is an inadvertence.
The reader may replace this knowledge of colour by the knowledge of any other object he pleases, but he will see that whatever the object may be, the consciousness of it is invariably
6 SELF-CONSCIOUSXESS & OBJECT-CONSCIOUSNESS CHAP.
accompanied with self-consciousness, forming its support and making it possible. Self-conscious- ness is the universal principle that remains constant in the midst of the changes of object- consciousness : nothing can enter into conscious- ness without being conditioned by it. We cannot know anything else without knowing " I know ; " we cannot remember anything without remembering " I knew ; " and we cannot antici- pate any future knowledge without thinking " I shall know." All knowledge is winded, as it were, with the thread of self-knowledge ; the whole structure of knowledge stands on the ground-work of self-knowledge. The truth of this principle is not confined to the particular examples of it we have given. It is not a parti- cular truth confined to particular cases : it is a universal and necessary truth. As the properties of all circles are evident from particular circles, as those of all triangles are exemplified by parti- cular triangles, so is the common characteristic of all forms of knowledge revealed in particular forms. As every circle requires a centre, as a circle without a centre is impossible, so is a piece of knowledge impossible without self-knowledge. The reader may now open all the gates of knowledge, — all his senses — and perceive various
I SELF-CONSCIOUSKESS UNIVERSAL AND NECESSARY 7
objects in nature. In doing this, he will see that all objects are full of the light of the self. He will see that the light of self-knowledge is on all forms of knowledge — that it is that light by which all objects are revealed. With all the objects he sees is involved the truth " I see ; " with all he hears, " I hear ; " with all he touches, " I touch ; " in a word, with all that he knows, he knows the fundamental truth, " I know." Let the reader clearly realise this truth. It may now seem to be trivial, but he will see by and by that it is really the basis of our knowledge of God.
As a self-evident truth, we merely state and expound it ; we make no attempt to prove it. As the basis and proof of all other truths, it is really above proof. We have seen how, by attempting to deny this self-evident truth, we are involved in inconsistencies and self-contradictions — how, by denying something for a moment, we are obliged to admit it in a manner the next moment. It is needless to say anything more on the sub- ject. To say that we know something, but do not know ourselves as knowers, is to say that we acquire a piece of knowledge, but do not know it as ours. One who says this may be asked, — if in acquiring the piece of knowledge he does not know it as his, why does he believe it as his the
8 SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS & OBJECT-CONSCIOUSNESS CHAP.
next moment ? And why does he attempt to get it recognised as such ? Whence comes this un- shaken belief in a matter which he did not know directly and of which he does not possess, — what is not possible — any indirect proof ? If we were to say to the objector that whatever knowledge he is said to have acquired without self-knowledge is not really his, what could he answer? We could indeed very well say so, for the objector himself says that in acquiring that knowledge he did not know it as his, and he cannot say that he remembers it as his, for what was not known at all, cannot be remembered, — what was never eaten cannot be ruminated. That we claim our knowledge as ours, depends upon the invulnerable proof that in acquiring every piece of knowledge we have known it to be ours, that we have acquired not a bit of knowledge without self- knowledge and do not consider such unconscious acquisition of knowledge as possible.*
The reader may ask, ' If it be really true that self-consciousness accompanies every other form of consciousness, that so long as we are conscious we are also self-conscious, how is it that the very
* See Ferrier's Institutes of Metaphysic, Prop. I, and Sankara's Commentary on the Brahmasutras, II. 3.7.
I INTUITIVE & REFLECTIVE KNOWLEDGE DISTINGUISHED 9
Opposite of this seems to be true ? How is it that we seem to forget the self in our absorption in the knowledge of some particular object ? The source of the error is this. To know something and to think that we know it, — to understand that we know it,— are two very different things. Knowing is often a matter of direct perception, insight or introspection, while understanding is always the result of reflection, of observation. We have shown that no ki. iwledge is possible without the knowledge of the self as the knower, — without the knowledge of the piece of knowledge as one's own. This self-consciousness, which lies at the root of all consciousness of objects, is direct knowledge. But to understand this truth clearly is not the result of direct knowledge ; it is the result of thought, — of reflective introspec- tion, which is a difficult process, one which many are quite incapable of going through. To make the mind calm and quiet, to concentrate the attention on the contents of knowledge, to analyse them closely and describe them — is quite impossible with many. And even those who are capable of doing all this, do not do it always. Even the most thoughtful philosopher has not always the microscope of mental analysis ready in hand. So it happens that though self-con-
lO SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS & OBJECT-CONSCIOUSNESS CHAP
sciousness (dtmajndna), which is direct know- ledge, is involved in all forms of consciousness, self-realisation (atmopalabdhi) or the reflective knowledge of self, is not always possible. If the reader understands this difference between self-consciousness and self-realisation, he will see why the truth under discussion does not always seem to be true. Self-consciousness is fundament- al, intuitive, spontaneous and universal ; it is possessed by the thoughtful and the thoughtless alike, and is present at all moments, reflective and unreflective. But self-realisation is the result of reflection, of self-examination ; it is possible only to the thoughtful, and attainable only in reflective moments. We spend most part of our life without reflection, without self-examination ; and so it seems to us that for most part of our life we remain without self-knowledge — without self-consciousness— and absorbed in the consciousness of objects. But the fact is that at such times though we are without self-realisa- tion, we are not without self-consciousness. We could not know anything without knowing " I know," " the knowledge is mine."
We now proceed to expound another funda- mental principle of knowledge and crave the reader's close attention to it. He must have seen
I OBJ-CONSCIOUSNESS INVOLVED IN SUBJ-CONSCIOUSNESS II
that when he was trying to free the mind from the knowledge and thought of objects, he did not quite succeed in doing so. All objects of sense must have moved away from his sphere of know- ledge, the activity of all his senses must have ceased, the thought of all external objects must have stopped and the mind must have ceased to be swayed by various feelings and become calm and tranquil. Nevertheless, the thought of objects cannot have been quite excluded. When the thought of all other things had passed away from the mind, darkness remained to keep com- pany with the self. This darkness may not be called a material object, but it is nevertheless an object. Whether it is an external or an inter- nal object, a material or a mental property, — we at present say nothing as to that. It may here- after be seen to be nothing independent of the self, — nothing that can exist apart from the self ; but what we say at present is only this, that it is an object, not the subject, not the self, — that there is a distinction, — a sort of duality — between it and the self. In knowing darkness, the self knows something which it can distinguish from itself, and so it says that it knows itself and darkness. If there were no distinction between the self and darkness, the consciousness of self
12 SELF-CONSCrOUSKESS & OBJECT-CONSCIOUSNESS CHAP.
would pass away with the disappearance of the consciousness of darkness, and it would be impos- sible for the self to perceive the white colour and other objects referred to by us. This proves that though self-consciousness was manifested in con- nection with the consciousness of objects when the latter appeared, it is not one with it, — that there is a difference between the two. So we said that though darkness is not a material object, it is nevertheless an object, and as such distinguish- able from the subject. What we have to say now is that however the self may try to free itself from the consciousness of objects, to isolate itself, it is impossible for it to do so : some cons- ciousness or thought of objects must necessarily accompany its consciousness of itself. As we have seen that self-consciousness is the necessary condition of object-consciousness, that no cons- ciousness of objects is possible without it, so is it true that self-consciousness cannot manifest itself without being accompanied with some consciousness of objects — that the consciousness of self is impossible without some object-conscious- ness. The self cannot know itself without distin- guishing itself from some object or other. The difference between these two fundamental truths is, that while self- consciousness is the invariable
I THE TWO FUNDAMENTAL TRUTHS DISTINGUISHED I3
condition and acconripaniment of all conscious- ness of objects, — the self being known with the knowledge of every object, — no particular object- consciousness accompanies self-consciousness. It is not necessary that any particular object or num- ber of objects must be known with the self. The fact is that the self cannot be known unless soTiie object or other, whatever it may be, is known with it. Perhaps, some reader will say that in realising his self, in the way he is invited to do, he can free himself from the consciousness of darkness, — that darkness does not remain as an object of his knowledge in that state of self- realisation. Now, there is nothing surprising in this. A man born blind has perhaps no idea of darkness ; but perhaps he has a feeling of touch instead of a feeling of darkness. Perhaps he feels the touch of the seat he occupies, or the memory of some touched or heard object sticks to his mind. As to a man with eyes the absence of light remains as an object of conscious- ness in such a condition, so to a blind man the absence of sound or touch perhaps remains as the accompaninent of his lonely thought. The truth is that whether it be something positive or nega- tive, some external object or some feeling or state of the mind, the thought of some action or
14 SELF-CONSCIOUSXESS & OBJECT-CONSCIOUSNESS CHAP
inaction — whatever has any distinction or differ- ence from the self — must invariably accompany the consciousness of self. Why the self cannot know itself in isolation, the reader will under- stand on a little reflection. What does the self know itself to be ? It knows itself to be a knower. Whatever object the self may know, it knows itself with it as its knower. With whatever object-consciousness its self- consciousness may be manifested, the form of this self-consciousness is — ' I am the knower.' It is only as a knower that the self knows itself. But the term ' knower ' is relative ; it implies an object of knowledge. A knower who knows nothing is unmeaning. But cannot the self, it may be asked, know itself? Yes, it can, we reply, but in knowing itself it must know itself as possessing some characteris- tic. It is not possible that it should know itself and yet not know itself as so and so. But under whatever characteristic it may know itself, it will be seen that every one of these characteristics is related to some object or other, — that unless some object or other is known or thought of, that characteristic cannot be known or thought of. If the self thinks of itself as unextended, as space- less, such thought is possible only in relation to the thought of extended objects. If it thinks
I SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS RELATIVE 15
of itself as permane-nt, unchangeable, such thought is possible only in relation to transient, change- able objects. If it thinks of itself as one, such thought is possible only in relation to the thought of many objects. The reader, therefore, sees that ' self-consciousness is impossible without object-consciousness,' is also a fundamental truth. As in trying to deny our first fundamental truth we involve ourselves in self-contradiction, so is it the case with this our second fundamental truth. If any reader says that in a particular moment he knew only his self, and not anything else, then we ask him as before, What proof of this do you offer ? Its only proof can be memory. The reader remembers that in that particular moment he knew only his self, and nothing else, so that the whole content of his knowledge at that moment was—' I know only myself + 1 know nothing else.' The reader sees that the second part of this piece of knowledge is involved in the first ; we put it separately only to make it explicit. That this piece of knowledge is not mere self- consciousness, that the consciousness of an object is involved in it, is also clear. That object is — the feeling of the absence of anything else but the self. This feeling itself is a form of object- consciousness and as such is distinguishable from
l6 SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS & OBJECT-CONSCIOUSNESS CHAP.
self-consciousness. The reader therefore sees that what he thought a moment before, namely that he sometimes knows his self in isolation from objects, is something absurd. The very absence of objects cannot be felt without thinking of some object or other. In thinking, ' I perceive no object,' the self necessarily thinks of something or other as representing the world of objects. The sky, the earth, a tree, a piece of paper, a pen, joy, sorrow — something or other like these must be thought of, so that the thought ' I perceive no object ' may be possible. We see, then, that the knowledge or thought of some object is an invariable and necessary condition of self-con- sciousness, that the self cannot realise itself without distinguishing itself from some object or other.
We have explained two fundamental laws of knowledge. We have discussed as much of Epistemology or the science of knowing as is necessary for our present purpose. We shall now take up Ontology or the science of being. Before we take up this discussion, it seems necessary to say a word or two on the relation of faith and knowledge. Faith is of two kinds, — rational faith and blind faith. Rational faith is faith derived from knowledge, whatever may be the method in which the latter may be acquired.
FAITH — BLIND AND RATIONAL 17
Such faith alone is real faith. It is the necessary result of knowledge. It naturally follows know- ledge and does not require the practice of any austerities or any other spiritual exercise than the acquisition of knowledge. There is another ^kind of faith which is not real faith, but only its shadow or adumbration. It does not wait for knowledge or understanding, but is the result of tradition or sentiment. Far from depending on knowledge or understanding, this blind faith sticks even to suCh false things as cannot either be known or thought of, and the thought of which involves inconsistency and self-contradic- tion. What cannot be known or thought of cannot indeed be an object of real faith, and so we have said that such faith is not real faith, but only its shadow— only a make-belief. Such blind faith perhaps exists in all persons more or less, but a seeker after knowledge can never be con- tented with it. If there is, among the readers of this book, any one who is contented with such faith, he may put down the book immediately, for it is not intended for him. It is impossible for such an one to acquire true knowledge. Even if he proceeds to acquire knowledge, blind faith will mislead him at every step. In whatever disguise he may come, Mahiravana, the prince
l8 MIND AND MATTER CHAP.
of the nether regions, is a deadly enemy of Rama and Lakshmana.* So, blind faith, whether it calls itself common sense or spiritual ex- perience, is a deadly enemy of all kinds of pure knowledge, and therefore of the knowledge of God. Let the reader who is prepared to accept the witness of knowledge, and is satisfied with knowledge alone, accompany us while we proceed to seek the witness of God in our self- consciousness and consciousness of objects.
Section 2 — Mind and Matter
Let us discuss the relation of the external world to mind in the light of the truths ex- plained in our first section. The reader has already seen that every object of knowledge is full of the light of the self and is really revealed by that light. Let him now try to realise this truth fully. What I have before me, — paper, ink, inkpot, pen, table &c. — are all objects of my
* Mahiravana was a son of Ravana, King of Lanka, [n the Ramayana by Ki'rtivasa he is represented as having successively taken various disguises — those of Dasaratha and Kausalya among others — in order to get entrance into the room in which the princes were, in order to carry them off to his regions. He at last succeeded in his attempt under the form of Vibhishana, the princes' chief friend and protector.
I RELATIVITY OF SUBJECT AND OBJFXT I9
sight, related to that form of knowledge which is called visual perception. The pen, paper and inkpot touched by me are related to my tactual sense, — are objects of my sense of touch. In the same manner, whatever I perceive by the other senses I know to be closely related to conscious- ness— to the conscious self. Even when I do not perceive them, I can think of them, I can imagine them, as existing only in relation to conscious- ness. Thought or imagination can deal only with materials supplied by perception. Imagina- tion can variously manipulate the materials supplied by perception— can combine or permute them in various ways, but cannot create new materials. The common characteristic of all that we know of material objects — of their forms, qualities, states, — is that they are known — objects of the conscious self. Consequently, imagination too can contemplate them only as objects of the conscious self. If imagination could create new materials, such materials also would be nothing but objects imagined, — objects of the imagining self, and not things unrelated to the self — things independent of it. The reader there- fore sees that things that we call material cannot be known or thought of as unrelated to or independent of the conscious self. Things known
20 MIND AND MATTER
can be distinguished, but not separated, from the knower. The distinction is within, not without, knowledge. The knowledge of what we call matter is a relation of which one term is the self as subject, and the other matter as object. But this distinction or difference of subject and object is a difference within knowledge and has no place out of knowledge. Matter cannot either be known or conceived out of this relation — knowledge. It cannot be known or conceived except as appearing to the self as the object of its knowledge. Now, the conclusion from all this is that what we cannot know and cannot even conceive, is not worthy of being believed in, and cannot really be believed in ; but neverthe- less people think that they can and do believe in it. The fact is that they do not believe in it, but only think that they believe. Matter can neither be known nor conceived as independent of knowledge, — it is indissolubly related to the self in knowledge and conception ; and yet people think that in existence it is independent of knowledge, — that it can exist without being the object of any knowledge. Such thinking is mere fancy ; mere senseless talk. How it originated we shall explain later on. Let the reader only understand now that it is a meaningless talk, a
CONTRADICTIONS IN POPULAR THINKING
groundless erroneous belief. We have already shown how in entertaining it we involve our- selves in inconsistency — in an actual contradic- tion. However different material things may be from one another, they have all this common characteristic, that they are all known things. What do I know of the pen in my hand ? I know that it is something having colour, extension, hardness, smoothness &c. But all these qualities are dependent on knowledge. Colour is some- thing that is seen and we can think of it only as something seen. Similarly hardness and smooth- ness are also known objects, — objects of touch, and can be thought of only as such. In the same manner, extension too is something known by vision and touch and can be conceived only as such an object of knowledge. Therefore, if we were to believe something having these charac- teristics as existing independently of knowledge — existing without being known by me or any other conscious being, we should have to believe in this absurd and senseless proposition that a seen thing exists unseen or that a touched thing exists untouched. Popular thinking is involved in such a net of error tiiat it accepts even such absurd and contradictory propositions as credible. The fact is that even when this pen
22 MIND AND MATTER
is absent from sense, people really think of it as seen and touched, thought being impossible under any other conditions. But because, apart from the momentary sensuous knowledge of things, they have no clear notion of an eternal know- ledge, they are obliged to think that though the pen exists, it is not the object of any knowledge — not dependent on any conscious self. If the reader takes a few examples like the one we have used, and thinks a little on the subject, he will see that the proposition, " A material thing exists without being the object of any knowledge, — independently of any knowing self " — is an ex- tremely absurd and meaningless one. For a material object, to exist is to be known, — its existence consists in being known. To exist in any other form, — to exist independently of a knowing self — is for it impossible.
We shall take up one by one each quality of matter and by a detailed discussion of them and of the material 'substance' imagined by some philosophers, we shall show that matter is not anything independent of mind — that mind is the support of matter. Before, however, we take up that discussion, we shall show the cause of the popular error about matter. The chief cause of this error is a false notion of the nature of
I POPULAR XOTIOX OF THE SOUL 23
mind or the soul. To the uneducated and the unreflective, the soul means the body : in speaking of their soul, they think of their body. Those who know that the soul is formless and immaterial, are indeed partly free from error, but many of them are not quite freed from the fundamental mistake. People of this class have no clear notion of formlessness and immateriality. Though speaking of the soul as formless and im- material, they in a manner attribute form and materiality to it. They think of the soul as a subtle thing confined to a particular part of space. As, according to this view, the soul is a small thing confined to a small portion of space, whatever is external to that portion of space, whatever lies outside of it, appears to be external to the soul. To say that such things are indissolubly connected with the soul — are dependent on the soul— seems to be so much metaphysical raving. By thus mistaking matter to be the soul, and attributing the material qualities of extension and size to the soul, people become blind to the deeper truths of the spiritual world, mistake their own ignorance and thought- less notions for ' common sense,' and failing to realise the truths revealed to the keen insight of the wise, set them down as so much senseless
MIND AND MATTER
talk. People of this class do not see that if the soul is to be believed as something confined to a portion of space, it must be regarded also as having a particular size, and that if it has a particular size, its formlessness and immateriality are gone, and it has become something material. The fact is that the soul is essentially conscious, it is consciousness itself, shining by its own light and revealing thereby matter, which depends for existence on its support. This consciousness is the fundamental characteristic of the self. It involves no idea of length, breadth or size. Con- sciousness is neither long nor short, neither broad nor narrow, neither deep nor shallow ; it has no such quality. It is therefore a great error to regard the conscious self as something having size or as confined to such a thing. The self has no space relations with matter ; its relation to it is one of knowledge. The self is the knower, the subject, and matter is the known, the object. To say therefore that the self is in a certain portion of space, is true only in the sense that the former knows the latter. In this sense the self may be said to be in everything it knows. It cannot be confined to any one of the things it knows. If it were confined to any one of them, it could not know the others. I see my
I THE SOUL NOT IN' SPACE 25
hand, this pen and this piece of paper. These things are external to one another. Now, people think that just as these three things are external to and independent of one another, so is the self a fourth thing occupying, like the other three, a distinct portion of space and looking at them from there. It is because of this false notion of the self that people believe matter to be some- thing independent of consciousness. The fact is that consciousness, the self, is equally present to all these three things, and is not confined to any one of them ; nor does it occupy any portion of space beyond them. The self is consciousness, and whatever is an object of consciousness is within its sphere. It is the common support of all objects of knowledge. However, we shall discuss more closely later on the relation of space to consciousness.
Another cause which makes people think of material objects as independent of consciousness is that by consciousness people usually under- stand their own individual consciousness, the limited consciousness of finite beings. We know that our knowledge is confined to very small limits. We know that at a time, by one glance or a momentary act of touch, we can apprehend very little of the material world — how little, we
26 MIND AND MATTER CHAP.
shall show hereafter. And the little we thus know does not always remain in our conscious- ness. But we believe— and this belief is not groundless— that the material world continues to exist even when it leaves the sphere of our individual consciousness. When, by conscious- ness, people understand only the individual cons- ciousness, it is nothing surprising that they should think of the world as existing independently of consciousness when it is out of the sphere of our individual knowledge. But by saying that the world cannot exist independently of conscious- ness, we do not mean that it cannot exist in- dependently of any individual consciousness. We do not say that when we do not know the material world it ceases to exist. What we really say is that even when we do not know it, it exists in consciousness. How the individual consciousness is related to that in which it then exists, the reader will see by and by. The reader will indeed admit that the nature of the world revealed to individual consciousness is its true nature. There is really no other means of learn- ing the true nature of the world than what we call the individual consciousness. But what do we learn by our individual consciousness about the nature of matter ? Is it not this, that it is some-
1 COXSCIOUSNESS— INDIVIDUAL AND UNIVERSAL 27
thing essentially related to consciousness ? Really it is impossible to learn anything else. Things known can be known only as related to, as dependent on, consciousness. When, by our individual intelligence, we learn that the world is, by its very nature, something dependent on consciousness, we must believe that even when we do not know it, it still exists in some cons- ciousness ; otherwise it cannot exist at all. We state this truth in the current language of common sense, which may be interpreted as meaning that when we do not know the world it exists in some consciousness quite distinct or separated from our consciousness ; but really it is not so. We shall show gradually- — the reader is not expected to understand it clearly at this stage of our discussion— that it is not a fact that the world is continually passing from one conscious- ness to another like a ball tossed from one person's hand to another's. What we call the individual consciousness is not merely individual. Though its manifestation in individual life is limited, it is not essentially limited. The consciousness which is manifested in our individual life, which shines as the light and support of all that we know, remains ever-waking and manifest to itself in the midst of our individual ignorance.
28 MIND AND MATTER
oblivion and sleep, and supports the world. However, we shall explain these truths at length in the proper place.
We shall now discuss each quality of matter and show that it is not anything independent of consciousness — that it cannot exist except in relation to it. This section of our book is most useful in correcting the popular error in regard to matter ; the reader will therefore do well to pay particular attention to it.
Extension is the common characteristic of all material objects : ever}' material object has exten- sion or spatiality. Qualities like colour, smell, warmth, and coldness may not be possessed by parti- cular objects, but every material object has exten- sion. That this extension or spatiality is dependent on consciousness,that it is not anything independent of mind, — we have already explained in a general way. We shall now explain it particularly. Let us take as example the piece of paper before us. So long as we merely look at this piece of paper, and do not touch it, we perceive only two of its qualities — its extension and its white colour. Instead of white, it may be coloured blue, yellow or green. It may have, and may be conceived as having, any colour. No particular colour is absolutely necessary for it. But the reader will
I PKRCEPTIOM OF EXTEXSION IMPLIED IN' SENSATIONS 29
see that whatever colour it may have or may be conceived to have, it is absolutely necessary that there should be extension with it. It is only with extension — as extended — that colour appears or can be conceived : extension is I absolutely necessary for colour. But on the other hand, colour is not absolutely necessary for extension. We have seen that in the absence of white, extension may exist with blue, and in the absence of blue with green and so forth, no particular colour being necessary for the percep- tion of extension. Nay, extension may be perceived even without any colour at all. The blind have no sense of colour, but they perceive extension. Extension appears to them with sensations of touch. Not only to the blind, but to those also who have eyes, extension may and does appear with tactual sensations. In the case of these sensations also, it is found that the perception of space is absolutely necessary for them — for the sensations of warmth and cold, smoothness and roughness, hardness and softness. It is impossible for these sensations to be felt or imagined without a perception of extension, but the perception of space is not necessarily accompanied with these sensations. In the absence of heat, space may be perceived with cold ; in
30 MIND AXD MATTER
the absence of cold, with smoothness or rough- ness and so forth — none of these sensations being absolutely necessary for the perception of space. Nay, in the absence of all tactual sensations, extension may be perceived with colour. There- fore, as we saw before that space is not dependent on colour, but is independent of it, so we see now that it is not dependent on touch, but is in- dependent of it.
We therefore see that of the qualities with which space is perceived, it is dependent on none, — none being absolutely necessary for it, but that it is indispensably necessary for perceiving them. Nay more. Visual sensations like white, blue and green, and tactual sensa- tions like heat and cold, may be conceived as absent, as non-existent ; but the non- existence of space cannot be conceived. We may imagine that the colour, smoothness, soft- ness &c., of this piece of paper are destroyed ; but we cannot imagine that the portion of space it occupies is destroyed. The existence of the former qualities is not necessary for thought, but the existence of space is necessary for thought. But it must be seen that though no particular visual or tactual sensation is necessary for space, it can be perceived or imagined only as a con-
SPACE A FORM OF PERCEPTION"
dition of perceiving such qualities. Otherwise — as anything unrelated to them — it can neither be perceived nor imagined. It is necessary only as conditioning the perception of the qualities named. Now, two conclusions follow from the ,above discussion : — ^(i) Space is not anything independent of consciousness. A reality inde- pendent of mind, an alien to mind, cannot be so indissolubly related to it that it cannot perceive certain things without perceiving it, and cannot even conceive its non-existence. Some- thing independent of consciousness cannot be indispensable for it ; it must be such that consci- ousness may or may not apprehend it. But space is indispensable to perception — to the perception of visual and tactual sensations. What is so closely, so indissolubly, related to knowledge cannot be independent of it. Besides, of that which is independent of consciousness, which is an alien to consciousness, even though it be known, nothing absolutely true can be said, for what it is today it may not be to-morrow ; what it is this moment may be changed in the next. And as to making any statement in anticipation of actual knowledge — that is quite impossible in regard to it. But in regard to space we possess both necessary truths and anticipa-
32 MIND AXD MATTER CHAP.
tions. In the first place, it is absolutely certain that in whatever other way matter may be changed, it must be extended — extension is necessary for matter. Other qualities may come and go, but extension must remain permanent. This is true even of things which have not come within the sphere of our individual consciousness. It is sure also of all visual and tactual sensations which we may have in future that they will all be conditioned by space. In the second place, we know that the three dimensions, — length, breadth and depth, — which space as perceived by us possesses, must be possessed also by the space beyond our sphere of individual knowledge. We can make this assertion even without perceiv- ing that space. Now, the fact is that it is only because space is dependent on knowledge, some- thing which is its own, that it can make these assertions and anticipations regarding its nature. They would be impossible if it were something independent of it.* (2) Though space is depend- ent on Imowledge, it is not an object by itself, but
* The necessary truths of Mathematics all imply the dependence of space on mind. They would not be neces- sary if space were anything independent of mind. As the subject is not likely to be intelligible to the general reader, we avoid a lengthy discussion on it.
I INFINITE DIVISIBILITY OF SPACE 33
only a necessary form of perception, for, as we have already seen, it can be perceived or imagined only as the necessary condition of sensations and never as anything independent of them. Colour, touch &c., are, as it were, the matter of perception, • but as these sensations cannot be perceived with- out space, as the mind cannot perceive them except as in space, except in the form of extension, we have called it a necessary form of perception.*
We do not know how far the reader unfamiliar with Philosophy has followed the above exposi- tion. We hope that what has seemed abstruse and unsatisfactory at the first reading, will seem clear and convincing if he reads it with close attention a nurnber of times. However, we are going to explain in another way the dependence of space on mind, and hope that this exposition will appear to some readers more intelligible and convincing than what has just been given.
Let us divide the piece of paper before us into a number of parts with real or imaginary lines. The portion of space occupied by it can be divided
* See Kant's Critique of Pure Reason : Transcendental Aesthetic; and Prof. E. Caird's Critical Philosophy of Kant, Book I., Chapter II. See also the relative sections of Prof. T. H. Green's Introduction to Humes Works and pp. 228 — 251 of the second volume of Green's Works.
34 MIND AND MATTER
into such parts. It really consists of such parts. Space is essentially divisible into infinite parts — it is a sum of such parts. However small space may be, it must have parts. No space can be so small as to be indivisible — to have no parts. There can indeed be such a small portion of space that it is not in the power of man or any other creature to divide it any more. But we do not speak at present of the power of the creature. What a created being cannot divide still has parts. The nature of space is such that however small it may be, it must have parts, or in other words, must be divisible. Space cannot be indivisible or without parts. But cannot a portion of space be divided into parts so small that they are mere points and have no magni- tude ? The reply is that such points, even if imaginable, would not really be parts of space. Real parts of space, parts which taken together make space, must have magnitude. Not even millions of points having no parts and magnitude could make real space having magni- tude. Space, however small it may be, must have some magnitude, and must therefore have infinite parts — must be infinitely divisible. Now, let us think of the relation with mind of the portion of space we have taken for our example
1 , UNITING FUiXCTION OF M!.\U 35
and of its parts, which are all external to and yet connected with one another. The reader has understood in a general way that whatever appears to the mind as its object is essentially related to it — has the mind as its support. He » has also seen in a general way that extended objects, though they are external to one another, are all within the sphere of knowledge and depend on knowledge. We wish now to show particularly that the connection subsisting be- tween the parts of this portion of space — the connection which makes its existence possible, has consciousness for its necessary condition. It is by the unifying power of the understanding that they are united. The connection of distinct objects imply something which, though one and indivisible, is in all of them, binding them together and bringing unity into their discreteness. There can be no union without something to unite. What is that uniting principle in the present case ? In the present, and in all such cases, that uniting" principle is consciousness — the conscious self. If consciousness were confined to some one of these parts, they could not be united, and in the absence of union the space in question would be impossible. The conscious self, though one and indivisible, is in each of them, and hence their
36 MIKD AND MATTER CHAP,
union. It is their common support and unifier. We do not mean to say that these parts were separate before and consciousness afterwards brought them together. We do not speak of that artificial union which is effected by bringing together different things existing independently of one another. We speak of that union or synthesis which is the very nature of space, with- out which space would be impossible. This piece of paper may be torn into pieces unconnected with one another ; but the space occupied by it cannot be so divided. Its existence consists in the synthesis of distinct parts. Each of these parts again consists of smaller parts. Space means just this synthesis of infinite parts, and it is of this synthesis that we speak. This synthesis is not an event in time. It is not something that once was not, but took place at a particular time. It is, as Prof. T. H. Green says, " a timeless act." If any one objects to call it an act, we may call it a condition. Whatever it may be called, it is doubtless dependent on consciousness. If it be called an act, consciousness is its necessary cause. If it is a condition, consciousness is its necessary support or presupposition. It may be objected that a synthesis of distinct objects implies that the objects themselves are essentially disparate
I SPACE AN INFIXITE SYNTHESIS 37
and can exist without being synthesised and therefore independently of a synthesiser, and that an object which has its origin in a synthesis alone depends on it. When space is said to be a synthesis of distinct parts, is it not admitted that ' the components of the synthesis are independent of consciousness and the synthesis alone is depend- ent on it ? This objection has in a manner been already answered. It doubtless applies to a mecha- nical synthesis. The agent of such a synthesis has really no essential relation to the components of the synthesis. In such a case the objects united may exist independently of one another and there- fore independently of a unifier. But this does not apply to space. Space is something the very exist- ence of which depends on synthesis. It is an infinite synthesis. As the synthesis of the parts of a particular portion of space depends on conscious- ness, so each part depends on the synthesis of its own component parts. It is in this infinite syn- thesis of parts that space consists. It is not that the components first existed unconnected, and then came the synthesis. The components really have no existence apart from the synthesis ; with- out it they are unthinkable and meaningless.*
* See Green's Pvolegomena to Ethics, Book I, Chap. I, Sees. 28, 29.
38 MIND AND MATTER
We have thus shown that space, the form in which matter is perceived, depends on conscious- ness. We shall now show that the matter of perception — colour, hardness, smell &c., which are supposed to be things or qualities of things independent of mind, are not so, but are also dependent on consciousness. We shall show that they are mental states, sensations or ideas. We shall show that they are what the English psychologists call ' feelings ' or ' sensations,' and the Buddhist philosophers vijndnas (ideas). Sensations are things dependent on consciousness, their existence being impossible without conscious- ness. Before we enter fully into the discussion, let us discuss a little the relation of a sensation to the mind. Let the reader imagine that he feels a pain. A pain is a sensation. Leaving aside the question how, under what circumstances, the sensation arises, let us confine ourselves to thinking of its relation to the conscious self, which is its essential condition or support. We see on the one hand that there is a sort of difference, of duality, between the pain and the self. The pain is not the self nor is the self the pain. But on the other hand, the pain is a sensation or idea of the self and is nothing without relation to it. When its relation to the self ceases, it ceases too.
1 RELATION OF FEELINGS TO CONSCIOUSNESS 39
A pain, a feeling, which a mind does not feel, is an absurdity, a nonsense. Really the term ' feeling ' does not stand for a distinct, independ- ent reality. We use it only for convenience' sake. There is no such thing as ' a mere feeling,' the concrete reality being ' I feel.' ' A feeling ' = 'I feel once.' 'Two feelings ' = ' I feel twice.' ' A series of feelings ' = ' I feel continually.' There is therefore no reality corresponding to the term ' feeling ' or ' a series of feelings,' — a feeling or series of feelings being nothing apart from the conscious self.
We shall now show that just a^ a pain is a sensation or idea which cannot exist independ- ently of the self, so colour, touch, smell &c., which we call qualities of matter, are also sensations and cannot exist independently of the conscious self. Let us first take up colour. Colour is something seen. It is as something seen that it appears to the mind, and even when we do not see it, we can think of it only as seen by some person or other. We have already seen how we involve ourselves in a self-contradiction if we try to believe that what we know only as seen and can think of only as such can exist unseen. However, we shall now explain at some length the truth that colour is nothing independ-
40 MIND AND MATTER CHAP.
ent of consciousness, that it is only a sensation. One circumstance which leads people to think that it is not merely a sensation, but is something independent of mind, is that colour appears in association with space, — that it seems to be one with space, to be an extended thing. That an extended object should be a mere sensation, seems absurd. But we have shown that space is not one with colour — that it is independent of colour. It has also been shown that space, though it is not a sensation, is yet not anything independent of mind, — that it is a form of per- ception— a form of perceiving visual and tactual sensations. Therefore, the doubt about the dependence of colour on mind which arises from the fact of its association with space is ground- less. Colour is what we see, what we feel with our visual organ. But that what is seen exists independently of sight is absurd. To the blind, colour is nothing. There would be no such thing as colour if there were no seer and no power of seeing.
Another cause that prevents people from seeing that colour is a sensation, is this : To people not accustomed to philosophical reflec- tion it seems as if the same visual form can be and becomes visible to different persons. Sensa-
1 ILLUSIONS REGARDING VISION 4I
tion is an individual affair : every one directly perceives only his own sensation ; the same sensation cannot be perceived by more than one person. Your pain can be felt only by you ; I can only indirectly take notice of it ; it is ' impossible for me to feel it. What I feel is only my own pain. When, therefore, the same visual form can be perceived at the same time by many persons, how can it be called a mere sensation, a mere mental state ? This argument works in people's mind. Really, however, it is not a fact that the same visual form is seen by many persons. Every seer really has a distinct form presented to him, there being as many forms or images as seers. The forms are indeed similar to one another, but they are not numeri- cally identical. Nay, we really have two distinct but similar images presented to our two eyes — images which coalesce in actual vision. We shall show the truth of our statement by one or two examples. Let the reader look at an object, say a book before him, in the company of a friend. It seems to you that both of you see the same form, but you will soon find out the mistake of thinking so. Let one of you shut one of his eyes and look at the object with only the other eye. Then let him, with a finger put
42 MIND AND MATTER CHAP.
on the lower lid of the eye, move the eye-ball. He will see that the form seen by him will move with the eye while the form seen by his friend will remain unmoved. The reader will now see whether the forms seen by him and his friend are identical or not. He will further see that when the eye is unmoved, the form seen is also unmoved, and when the eye moves, the form also moves. This will show him whether the form seen is anything independent of sight or only an image depending" upon it. The proof that we see two coalescing images with the two eyes, the reader may find ready at hand. In the natural state the two eyes are in the same straight line with each other. Let the reader somewhat disturb this natural condition as before by a finger put on one of the eye-lids. Let him somewhat lift up or bring down one of his eye-balls, and he will find that he sees two images with the two eyes. The reader who thinks that the forms seen by us are things in- dependent of sight, may now be asked to say which of these two distinct forms seen with the two eyes is the real thing and which is a mere shadow, and also whence the shadow comes. If he says that the form seen with the unmoved eye is the real thing, he will see, on moving
[ VISIBLE AND TANGIBLE OBJECTS DISTINCT 43
that eye, that the form seen by it has also begun to move. If both the ej^es are moved simul- taneously, both the forms will move. The fact is that there can be no question in the case which is the real thing and which the unreal. What we see is real to the eye, and to the eye alone. Whatever things are seen are of the same nature, whether you call them realities or forms, images or representations. What we see is only an image dependent on sight and is therefore liable to change with the change of the visual organ and the conditions of vision. What we see is real to sight, to the eye, but not to the other senses. \Vhat is seen is only seen ; it cannot be touched, tasted or felt in any other way.
Another cause leading to errors about the object of vision is the mistaken notion that the objects of vision and touch are the same, — that what we see we also touch, and what we touch we also see. The same thing is supposed to be the object of touch to different people and so the same form of the thing is supposed to be the object of vision to different people. Whether the same thing can be the object of touch to different people, we shall see by and by. But it is certain that what is touched can only be
44 MIND AND MATTER
touched and cannot be seen. The objects of touch are heat, cold, smoothness, roughness, softness, hardness and so forth. The objects of sight are white, yellow, blue, red and other colours. Heat, hardness, roughness &c., cannot be objects of sight ; neither can white, yellow, blue &c., be objects of touch. The objects of sight and touch are indeed connected by the laws of causation. For instance the colour of an orange seen before may indicate the proximity of its cold touch and sweet taste ; but objects of sight and touch, — visual and tactual sensations — are quite dijfferent from one another.
There are many popular errors regarding visual objects, errors which prevent people from understanding the true nature of these objects. We have, however, no space to point out these errors at length. We shall speak only of two such errors. Those who wish to investigate the matter fully will better read some large work on Psychology. The error we shall first point out here is this : People think that the forms seen by them can exist and do exist at a distance from their eyes, — that distance is an object of direct vision. But it is not really so. What each one of us sees is only a picture on our retina. That a form seen seems to be at a distance is the result
DISTANXE IKVISIBLE 45
of experience and association. To a person without visual experience all forms seen appear to be immediately close to his eyes. Scientific experiment has proved that when a man born blind regains his eye -sight through a surgical operation, everything he sees seems to be touch- ing his eyes. Perhaps the first visual impressions of children are similar to this, as appears from their stretching their hands to get hold of the moon. It is easy to understand why it is impossible for us to see distance. Distance is a straight line extending forward in the same straight line with the eye. That it is impossible to see the length of such a straight line, the reader can easily understand by holding a stick before him in the same way. It is only one of the ends of such a line — namely that one which is in touch with the eye — that we can see. It is therefore impossible for us to see distance in the line of sight and consequently a distant form. We often find that to touch the tangible object causally connected with the image seen by us— for instance the tangible pillar before me indicat- ed by the pillar-image seen by me — we have to go to some distance, more or less, and that the colour and size of the image seen vary according to the amount of this distance. From this
46 MIND AND MATTER CHAP.
variation and by other means we acquire a knowledge of the distance of the tangible object. By constant habit this mediate knowledge acquired from experience comes to be thought of as immediate and intuitive knowledge. How- ever, what we know to be distant is not visible, but only tangible. What we see is not distant, but in touch with the eye — in fact in the retina.
Another popular error relating to vision is that we see very large objects by mere sight. The fact is that each time, by each glance, we see only a very small object — something not larger than the eye. This will be somewhat evident from what we have said above. Since what we see is nothing but an image in the retina, how can it be larger than the eye ? We cannot see anything larger than the organ of sight. How- ever, we shall prove this truth in another way. Let the reader roll the fingers of his hand into something like a pipe, and holding it before one of his eyes, look at some object. If he attends ■only to the object seen and not to the circum- ference of the improvised pipe, the form seen will appear much larger than the latter ; but if he at- tends to both, he will find that the image seen is confined within the circumference of the pipe, so that the former is not larger than the latter.
I COLOUR CHANGES BY CHANGE OF VISION 47
From this we understand that what we see at one sight is a very small object. That it appears larger is the result of experience. By habit the knowledge acquired from experience appears to be intuitive. We have learnt by long experience that the object causally related to the image seen by us, — for instance the real or tangible house indicated by the image-house seen by us — is a very large object, so that by constant association the idea of the image at once suggests the idea of the large tangible object, and we mistake this sug- gestion as immediate knowledge or common sense. We hope that a consideration of such facts will somewhat moderate the enthusiasm of some of our readers about 'common sense,' which, in many cases, is only another name for nonsense.
In the above discussion on colour, we did not confine ourselves to mere colour, — the extension implied in colour having inextricably been mixed up with with our treatment of it. But this did not effect the validity of our conclusions. We shall, however, now say a few words on colour only, so far as it is possible. If colour were any- thing independent of sight, it would surely not be changed with changes in the seer or the way or instrument of sight. What is independent of knowledge and of the knov/er cannot be changed
iMIND AND MATTER CHAP.
with him or the medium of his knowledge. If the object known changes with every such change, it at once shows itself to be dependent on knowledge — to be nothing but a sensation of the knower. We are going to show that colour, smell, taste, sound and touch are all liable to change with such changes. The colour that we see in an object when we look at it with our bare eyes, is changed when it is seen with a telescope. The colour seen from a distance varies on near vision. Brilliant light shows one colour and faint light another. A keen and a dull sight see different colours. What seems white to healthy eyes appears yellowish to those affected with jaundice. Now, which of these two sets of colours is real ? Which one of them is independ- ent of sight and which is unreal — only relative to the eye ? And what sort of a thing is the unreal colour ? W^hence does it come ? The reader will see that the essential character of both is the same — being seen or known. Both of them being objects of knowlege, one of them cannot be pronounced to be merely relative to knowledge with any reason not applicable to the other. The difference lies only in the medium of sight ; but this difference cannot make one dependent on sight and another independent of
SMELL A SENSATION 49
it. When change in the medium of sight changes the object seen, it is proved that the latter is not independent of sight, independent of knowledge, but that it is only a sensation of the seer.*
We have given so much space to the discussion of colour because it seems to be particularly difificult for a reader unfamiliar with Metaphysics to understand that it is only a sensation and nothing independent of knowledge. As to the other so called qualities of matter, — smell, taste, sound and touch — it is not so very difficult to understand that they are only sensations. Of these, it is comparatively more difficult to under- stand the dependence of touch on knowledge. After discussing smell, taste and sound briefly, we shall at the end treat of touch at some length.
Smell. — Before we feel smell, particles of the smelling object must enter our nostrils and produce a certain action on the olfactory nerves, and that action must be carried to the brain. From this the reader will see that the object of smelling cannot be the same to all, though it may be similar, — that each one of us has a similar
* See Locke's Essay on the Human Understanding, Book II, Chaps. IV — VIII, and Berkeley's Dialogues between Hylas and Philonus.
50 MIND AND MATTER
though distinct smell. He will also see that it is most absurd to suppose that what we smell existed or can exist unsmelt. Apart from the smeller and the power of smelling, smell is nothing. That smell can exist unsmelt, is a meaningless proposition. It can only be said that even when smell is not felt, the cause of smell remains, just as even in the absence of a pain its cause may remain. By and by it will be seen that even what is called the cause of smell is something dependent on consciousness. Then, as colour changes with change in the seer and the medium of sight, so smell too is changed with change in the smeller and the medium of smelling. Every one knows that what smells most foul and unpleasant to us is eaten with relish by some animals. Not only between man and the lower animals, but even between man and man, there is much difference in this respect. What the gentler classes shun as hateful smell, is most acceptable to some people of the lower classes. Many of our readers perhaps know the story of the fish-woman who, having become a guest one night in a flower- woman's house, could not sleep on account of the perfume of the flowers, and who had at last to try to get sleep by soaking her dried up fish-basket in water
TASTE AND SOUND
51
and taking in its 'sweet smell.' If smell were anything independent of consciousness, the same object would not smell differently to different beings. That it does so, proves that smell is only a sensation differing according to different conditions.
Taste. — Every word of what has been said of smell applies to taste. The taste felt by one person cannot be the object of another's taste. The object of different persons' taste may be similar, but not the same. Even similarity is not found everywhere. What is agreeable to my taste is disagreeable to another. What is sweet in good health is bitter in ill-health. Taste also then differs according to different temperaments and other conditions. Who will say then that it is anything independent of feeling ?
Sound. — The sound heard by different hearers may be similar, but cannot be numerically the same. W^e do not hear until an aerial undu- lation strikes against the trumpet of our ears and the nervous shock produced by it is communicated to the brain. The aerial undulation and the nervous shock are not objects of hearing ; they therefore are not sound ; sound is the sensation produced by them. The sound heard by different
52 MIND AND MATTER
persons may be similar, but cannot be the same, and like smell and taste it differs according to different conditions. What is a loud sound to me is a low one to a person half-deaf. One standing near a cannon and hearing a loud sound thinks that the low sound I hear from a distance is only a faint form of the same sound that he hears. Is it so ? How can loud and low be descriptions of the same thing? Can a large mango-tree and a small one be the same ? The fact is that what he has heard has not been heard by me, — that we have experienced two different but somewhat similar sensations. The identity lies only in their cause, which we shall discuss later on.
Touch. — By touch we experience two kinds of objects, — (i) what can be known by simple touch, and (2) what we know by pressure com- bined with touch. Heat, cold and the state intermediate to these two belong to the first class, and roughness, smoothness, hardness, soft- ness and resistance to the second. That the first-mentioned qualities are mere sensations and different to different minds, the reader will have no difficulty in understanding. The coldness I experience in touching the table before me is my sensation, and what the reader does in the same
TACTUAL SENSATIONS 53
manner is his. Our sensations may be similar, but cannot be numerically the same. What has been said about coldness applies also to heat and warmth. The heat felt by me on account of my nearness to a fire — is it in me or out of me ? The reader will perhaps say that heat, being an etherial vibration, cannot be in me. But is the etherial vibration an object of direct experience ? The fact is that the etherial vibration which scientists call heat is only the inferred cause of the heat or warmth felt by us, and is not the object of our present discussion. About this it would now suffice to say that this vibration is conceived in the form of things seen and touched. If we can show that what we see and touch is dependent on consciousness, it must then be admitted that this inferred vibration is also similarly conditioned. Though not ex- perienced by us on account of the limitations of our mental powers, it must undoubtedly be the object of some higher consciousness. Either it is that, or it is merely an imaginary and not a real object.* The subject of our present dis-
* The same remark appHes to light, the etherial vibration which scientists conceive as the cause of colour. Either it is something dependent on experience or it is nothing.
54 MIND AND MATTER CHAP.
cussion is the warmth or heat we feel. Unless the etherial vibration spoken of above is com- municated to our nerves, we do not feel this warmth or heat. The heat or warmth thus produced is evidently a sensation and different to different persons. The heat felt by two or more persons may be similar, but cannot be the same. And even the similarity is not constant. What is cold to one person may be warm to another differently conditioned. Nay, even if the same person has one of his hands warm and the other cold, the same object will seem cold when touched with the warm hand, and warm when touched with the cold hand. If the object of feeling were the same and independent of feeling, this would not be the case. The fact is that the mind, under varying conditions, experiences various sensations. What is experienced is dependent on experience and not anything independent of it.
The reader will see that as in the case of sight it is only an object in contact with our eyes that we see, and what we see is not larger than the organ of sight, so in the case of touch it is only something in contact with our body that we can touch, and that what we touch, that is the extension that we perceive along with our feeling of touch, is not larger than the part of
MUSCULAR SENSATIONS 55
the body used in touching. For instance, what we touch with the hand is not larger than the hand, and what we touch with the foot is not larger than the foot. But if we continue to have tactual feelings while moving the limb where- with we touch, we learn that the object touched, — that is the extension perceived along with the tactual feelings, — is larger than the limb used in touching. But we have already seen that the extension or space thus perceived is also an object dependent on experience.
We shall now discuss the tactual sensations of the second class. These sensations are so different from tactual sensations of the first class, that they are called tactual only for convenience' sake. They are closely connected with tactual sensations, and cannot be experienced without the latter, but they are not themselves tactual sensa- tions. The sensation that we experience in moving our hands over a rough place or when the motion of our hands is stopped on their coming into contact with a wall or a table, or when we press a table with one of our limbs, in a word, when the motion of a limb is opposed — is, in the language of Psychology, called resist- ance or muscular sensation. In current phraseo- logy it is called, in some cases, roughness, in
56 MIND AND MATTER CHAP.
some hardness. Whether, when this sensation occurs, it is reasonable to infer a cause of it in- dependent of experience, we shall discuss later on. Let the reader first try to understand that the direct object of our experience in such a case is only a sensation. If he takes into considera- tion the fact that this object appears to every one separately through the instrumentality of his own muscles, and differs according to differences of body and mind, he will see at once that it is not anything independent of experience, but only a sensation dependent on consciousness. That something is hard, means that its contact gives rise to a great deal of muscular sensation. The "something" spoken of is itself, it will be seen on examination, nothing independent of conscious- ness, but is really dependent on it — constituted by extension, tactual sensations and such other properties as can exist only in relation to experi- ence. However, this muscular sensation too, like other sensations, differs according to different conditions. What is hard to an infant is soft to a grown-up boy and softer to a youngman. What is hard to the weak is soft to the strong and vice versa. The seat, bed or clothing which the rich and the luxurious reject as rough, is smooth and acceptable to the poor. These
1 END OF THE DISCUSSION 57
objects of sense are evidently relative to con- sciousness and different to differently constituted persons. What is common and invariable in them is due to the general similarity in the physical and mental constitution of men. As this similarity is not perfect, so their sensations also are not perfectly similar. However, if hard- ness, softness and the like are various according to individual variations, where is their independ- ence ? Like other qualities of matter (as they are called) they too are mere sensations dependent on consciousness and are nothing apart from it.
Here ends our discussion of the so-called qualities of matter. The reader sees that what people regard as properties independent of mind are really sensations dependent on consciousness. In perceiving what we call the material world, therefore, we do not really go out of the mind, out of the spiritual world, but know only spirit and objects related to it. But this conclusion will not be quite clear till we have discussed certain questions which we have reserved for another section.
REFUTATION OF NATURALISM CHAP.
Section 3 — Refutation of Naturalism Those of my readers who are unacquainted with philosophical literature will perhaps be quite satisfied with the above exposition and will see the error of the popular belief that matter is independent of mind. But perhaps those who have studied Philosophy more or less are not yet quite free from doubts. They have heard from a class of philosophers, — and have perhaps believed what they have heard — that besides what is popularly called matter, there is a matter which is not perceived, but which nevertheless exists. As that matter is not an object of perception, the arguments adduced in favour of the relativity (dependence on mind) of the matter that we perceive, are not sufficient to disprove the inde- pendence of the former. For the sake of those of our readers who accept this philosophical doctrine, we proceed to a brief exposition and refutation of it. The philosophers referred to teach that though what we call the qualities of matter are really mere sensations, there is an unconscious object beyond the sphere of direct perception which is their substance and cause. This doctrine is called Naturalism. Those who hold it think that unless matter is believed to be independent of mind, its reality is not acknow-
I MATTER AS SUBSTANCE AND CAUSE 59
ledged. As they acknowledge the independence of matter, and in this sense its reality, they call themselves Realists. As holding the duality or mutual independence of matter and mind, they are also called Dualists. This philoso- phical Naturalism is — as the reader must see — very different from popular Naturalism, which takes sensible qualities as independent of mind. However, we shall show the error of this philoso- phical doctrine and make way for Idealism, the doctrine we are seeking to establish.
As to the matter conceived by Naturalists being the substance of what we call material qualities, it is perhaps enough to say that since these qualities are acknowledged as sensations, it is extremely absurd to imagine an unconscious object as their substance or support. Mind alone can be the support of sensations or feelings. Matter, which is conceived as without conscious- ness, can never be the substance or support of objects depending on consciousness. In fact the idea of a material or unconscious substance is suggested only when colour, sound &c., are thought of as the qualities of an external object. But we have already seen that these are not such qualities, but only sensations in the mind.
Let us now see if this ' matter ' can be
6o REFUTATION OF NATURALISM CHAP.
accepted as a cause of sensations. We shall give a little more detailed exposition of Naturalism before we proceed to its examination. Let us take the table before us as our example. The table is endowed with the qualities of extension, colour, smoothness, hardness &c. We have seen that the latter are all sensations, that extension or space is a form of perception, and that all these depend upon consciousness. Modem Natu- ralists admit all this, but they say that each of these objects of perception has an unperceived cause behind it, that these causes are the real qualities or constituents of matter and the sum of these qualities or constituents is the real material substance. That is to say, though the extension we perceive by our senses of vision and touch is a mere appearance and depends on consciousness, there is an unperceived extension which is its cause. Similarly, there is an unperceived or unseen colour which is the cause of the colour we see, an unfelt hardness which causes the hard- ness we feel, and a super-sensuous material sub- stance which is the sum of these properties. We already begin to see what an absurd doctrine Naturalism is. Can the reader form any idea of such things as an unperceived extension, an unseen colour, and an unfelt hardness ? And it
I UNKNOWABLENESS OF MATTER 6l
may be asked, If these material qualities are beyond sense, where lies their difference ? Why do they bear different names ? Colour is seen, but not smelt. Hardness is felt, not seen. So colour and hardness are distinct things or facts. But where is the distinction between the colour which is not seen and the hardness which is not felt ? And why should such colour and such hardness be called by different names ? The difference lies only in their effects and it has reference to the different senses of the mind in relation to which they are produced. The cause may be the same, as different actions may be done by the same personal agent. It is enough for Naturalism, therefore, to postulate only a single material cause of sensations, and this cause may be said to be endowed with various qualities only in the sense that it is capable of producing various sensations. That this cause is called matter, should not lead the reader to think that it possesses the variety of colour, smell, touch &c., which is presented by the matter which forms the object of our perception. We have shown just now that what is unperceived — unseen, unfelt — cannot possess this variety, for this variety can be conceived only with reference to our senses. It is called matter only in the
•62 REFUTATION OF NATURALISM CHAP.
sense that it is conceived as unconscious. The only thing, therefore, which the Naturalist knows, or rather thinks that he knows, about this material cause, is that it is on the one hand unconscious and on the other endowed with power, — power to produce sensations. With the exception of these two characteristics nothing is known, nothing can be known, of it. In other respects it is unknowable. It is from this unknow- ableness of the material cause that many Natura- lists call themselves Agnostics. We need hardly say that the above characterisation of matter is not imaginary, but is approved by prominent Naturalists.*
Now, on this Naturalism we have to make the following remarks : —
I. We can infer only that, or something similar to that, which we have known by direct knowledge. What we have seen, heard, felt or known by self-consciousness, or something similar to that, can, when absent from direct knowledge,
* See Spencer's Principles of Psychology, Part VII (Vol. II) and Green's criticism of this part in the fust volume of his works. See also the essay on " Science, Nescience and Faith " in Martineau's Essays — Philosophical and Theological Vol. 1, and the essay on " Agnostic Incon- sistency " in my Roots of Faith.
LIMITS OF IMAGINATION 63
be known on the testimony of others or by infer- ence. When we have known our own self by self-consciousness, we can conceive other selves or know them by inference, though they are not objects of direct knowledge. When once we have perceived colour, taste, smell, sound, touch, &c., they may, even in case they are not directly perceived, be conceived as objects of our future perception or that of other persons. When scientists, having perceived the vibration of things seen or felt, imagine the vibration of a thing (ether) so subtle that it is neither visible nor tangible, even then they do not go beyond reason, for this inferred vibration is conceived in the likeness of visible or tangible vibration. Though not perceptible to our gross senses, it is per- ceptible to a person endowed with subtler powers of perception. But what has never been perceived and never can be, what, by its very nature, is entirely different from objects of direct know- ledge, what is neither a knower nor anything known, neither a subject nor an object, such a thing can never be the object of indirect know- ledge or inference, and the existence of such a thing, therefore, cannot be believed. The matter imagined by Naturalists belongs to this category, and its existence therefore is quite incredible.
D4 REFUTATION" OF NATURALISM CHAP,
It is a wonder that while not believing in gods, sprites, giants and devils — things whose existence is conceivable though not provable, and while doubting the existence even of the Supreme Spirit, men yet believe in this metaphysical devil. Is not such a belief in 'the wise,' more absurd than the most baseless superstitions of the ignorant ?
2. If Naturalists represented their un- knowable matter as quite unknowable, it would be difficult, perhaps impossible, to make people believe in it. But instead of this they pronounce it, in the same breath, to be both knowable and unknowable. As they say, it is unknowable and at the same time the cause of sensations. What causes sensations has evidently at least one quality, and cannot therefore be un- knowable. However, that a cause of sensations is necessary, admits of no doubt. Every effect must have a cause, and as the rise of sensations is an effect, it must undoubtedly have a cause. And the cause must be permanent. Reason is not satisfied without a permanent cause of impermanent effects. When, therefore, the Natura- list refers sensations to a permanent supersensuous cause, he readily secures people's assent. But why go far in search of a cause when one is near at hand ? Is not the mind itself the cause of sensations ?
I SELF THE CAUSE OF SENSATIONS 65
The fact to be explained is that the mind or self experiences various sensations. Why imagine a not-self, unknowable and inconceivable, to explain this simple fact? The conditions necessary for the rise of sensations are (i) a sensi- tive or feeling self, (2) something which remains permanent in the midst of sensuous changes, the succession of one sensation to another, and (3) something to produce the sensation. Now are not all these conditions to be found in the self? It is the self that feels sensations, it is the self that remains unchanged as an witness when sensa- tions change and follow one another, and it is the self that produces sensations, — becomes sen- sient by its own activity. It is the idea that in sensation the self is purely passive* which makes people imagine a not-self as causing sensations in it. But such an idea — ^that of the self's passivity — is purely arbitrary, and the result of a false analogy — that of a piece of wax acted on by a stamp and producing impressions on it. Such an analogy may represent — but even that only imper- fectly,— the action of a material body on the body or sense-organs, but is quite out of place in representing the rise of sensations in the self.
* An idea common to the Indian Sankhya and the Western Dualist.
66 REFUTATION OF NATURALISM CHAP.
Sensation being purely mental — a form of con- sciousness,— it bears no impress, and furnishes no proof, of anything extramental — any not-self. It implies only the self's spontaneity or activity — its capability of assuming various sensuous forms. But our opponent may object, 'We do not pro- duce sensations by our will, how then can the self be said to be the cause of sensations ?' Does he admit, then, that causality or agency — the power of producing changes — implies will ? If he admits this, his Naturalism, his Agnosticism, is gone. If the cause of sensations is a Being endowed with will, he is neither unknowable nor unconscious matter, he is a knowable and know- ing Person. If it be admitted that causality or agency does not imply will, why not ascribe the causality of sensations to the self instead of an unknowable and inconceivable not-self. We shall see later on that causality does indeed imply will ; but we do not mean to assert that our individual volitions are the causes of sensations. Evidently it is not our individual will that causes the sensations we feel. But this does not prove that that the self we call our own is not the cause of sensations. Our individual volitions do not exhaust our selfhood. There are many things in the self which do not depend upon our volitions. The
I MATTER EXPLAINS NOTHING 67
consciousness that forms its very essence is not dependent on, but is rather the cause of, our voli- tions. This consciousness, irrespectively of our personal volitions, manifests itself in the forms of sensations, memory, understanding and emotions, and thus makes our individual lives. Leaving the discussion of the subject in greater detail for a future chapter, we would this moment only ask the reader to realise that for the origination of sensations and other mental facts it is not necessary to imagine an extramental cause, a not- self. The characteristics required by the Natu- ralist for such a cause are all to be found in the conscious self which forms the basis of our lives. He wants that the cause of sensations should be permanent and that it should be independent of our personal volitions. As the consciousness forming the basis of our lives possesses both these characteristics, it is needless to refer sensations to an unknowable and unconscious something instead of referring them to the conscious self.
3. Not only is it needless to imagine such an unconscious power, but it is extremely un- reasonable. This imaginary power gives no explanation of the origination of sensations. That only is a real cause which reasonably explains the effect. What cannot explain an
68 REFUTATION' OF NATURALISM CHAP..
ejffect cannot be called its cause. We shall try to show that the material cause supposed by Naturalists gives no explanation of sensations. Naturalism, though it admits that sensations are mental, imagines them as, in a manner, distinct from the self, and therefore tries to explain their origin by something other than the self. But we have already seen that sensations are nothing apart from the self. Sensation or feeling = I feel. It is nothing apart from the self. There is no such thing as a 'mere feeling or sensation', and therefore there cannot be any cause of 'mere feeling', — anything that explains 'mere feeling.' That alone can explain feeling which can explain the self, and as, according to Naturalists them- selves, the material power conceived by them is incompetent to explain the self (which requires no explanation), it is incompetent to explain feeling, and can therefore never be the cause of feeling.
4. That alone can explain feeling which is closely connected with mind. That alone can produce feeling in the mind which is either in the mind or in which the mind is — under whose control the mind is. But according to Natu- ralists themselves, the matter conceived by them is external to the mind. To be something in
3 DIFFERENT MEANINGS OF 'CAUSe' 69
the mind, it would have to be either a knowing subject or some object dependent on the subject ; consequently Naturalists take care to keep it outside the mind. But nothing can be more unreasonable than the idea that what, by its very nature, exists out of the mind should produce feelings in it from outside, — should make it feel various sensations. What is external should be incompetent to act internally, and what acts so cannot be anything external. That an absolutely external thing should act inter- nally, is a palpable self-contradiction. That such absurd and self-contradictory propositions are presented as philosophical truths and received as words of profound wisdom, is apt to take away one's patience and lead one to call the teachers of such doctrines wise in their own conceits, 'blind leaders of the blind.'
5. It is because the Naturalist totally forgets the meaning of 'cause" that he ascribes causality to an unknown something. It is a relation between known things that we call causality. We observe the relation in the knowable world. But the Naturalist, having learnt causality in the world of knowable things, gradually forgets its meaning and gives the name to a fancied relation between known things on the one hand
70 REFUTATION OF NATURALISM CHAP.
and something unknowable on the other. Let us explain this fully. The scientific meaning of ' cause ' is what the effect invariably follows, or more briefly, (though somewhat incorrectly), an invariable antecedent. Contact with fire is invariably followed by burning ; it is therefore the scientific cause of burning. The contact of the organ of vision with light is invariably followed by the sensation of colour ; light there- fore is the cause of the sensation of colour. The contact of the organ of touch with the etherial vibration called heat is invariably followed by the sensation of warmth ; heat therefore is the cause of the sensation of warmth. The contact of the organ of smell with particles of flow^er- pollen and other things is invariably followed by the sensation of smell ; such particles therefore are the cause of smell. The combination of oxygen and hydrogen is invariably followed by the production of water ; such combination therefore is the cause of water. This is one meaning of 'cause'. According to this scientific theory of causation, the cause of an effect is itself an effect. An effect or number of effects is the cause of another effect, and all such effects are sensations. We do not know and cannot con- ceive of any effect or event which is not a sensa-
SCIENTIFIC CAUSE 7 1
tion. A sensation or series of sensations forming; the cause of an effect may not be the object of our individual knowledge, but to believe in the actual existence of such a sensation or series of sensations, it must be believed that it is the object of a superhuman consciousness. The flower-pollen or such other things which form the cause of smell are, though not objects of our individual consciousness, nothing but visible or tangible objects ; to believe in their existence therefore is to believe in a superhuman spirit as their support. Similarly, the particles of food which cause taste, and the vibration of air which causes sound, are visible or tangible objects, though not objects of our individual conscious- ness, and are therefore dependent on some super- human consciousness. It will be seen therefore that this scientific theory of causation does not carry us beyond the knowable world. The causes of sensation assigned by it are themselves sensa- tions, and are therefore objects of knowledge. Scientific causality is a relation that can exist only between sensible objects — between objects of knowledge. It is nothing but a relation of fixed antecedence and sequence. An event that follows another event or series of events is the effect of the latter, and an event or series of
72 REFUTATION" OF NATURALISM CHAP.
events which is followed by another event is the cause of the latter. If ' cause ' means this, not unknown, unknowable and inconceivable thing can be the cause of sensation.
We find another kind of causality in the knowable world, one which is called metaphysi- cal causality. This causality also cannot carry us out of the sphere of knowledge, for it too can exist only between known realities. We fmd that the self, as a subject conscious of itself, is experiencing various sensations, connecting them by its uniting power and organising them into various ideas, and is willing various ends. In this case the self and its actions are related as cause and effect. The self is the cause of these effects, cause in the sense that its existence is the necessary condition of the production of these effects. But here also the relation of causa- lity exists between known things, the causes and effects being both known or knowable. Here too causality does not carry us beyond the knowable world and gives us no inkling of any unknowable reality. On the contrary, the cause here is consciousness itself, — the conscious self — the condition of all knowledge, something without knowing which nothing else can be known and all actions of which are based on knowledge.
METAPHYSICAL CAUSE 73
Whatever the self does, — whether it feels sensations like colour and taste, or draws an inference, or puts forth a volition — it does every- thing consciously, and because it is conscious. If it were not conscious, it could not do all this ; its activity depends upon its consciousness. If we try to understand 'activity', we find that it necessarily depends on consciousness, that it is unmeaning and impossible without the latter. What is unconscious, therefore, can never be active. We see clearly, then, the error of Naturalism and Agnosticism. The unconscious and unknowable something that Naturalism con- ceives as the cause of sensations can by no means have causality. It cannot be a cause in the sense of an invariable antecedent, for such a cause is within the realm of knowledge, and itself requires another cause. And it cannot be a cause in the sense in which the self is the cause of mental phenomena, for such causality depends on consciousness. Therefore, the un- knowable cause conceived by Naturalism is not a cause in any sense. It is a cause without causality, an unknowable known thing, a self- contradictory expression, a mere jumble of words — it is nothing.
The reader must have grasped the conclusion
74 REFUTATinx OF NATURALISM CHAP.
we have so far arrived at by our discussion on the self and the not-self. To what does knowledge — which is our guide to belief — bear witness? Not to any unconscious and unknown reality, but to knowledge itself, to consciousness, — to a conscious self. This consciousness has two sides or aspects. In one aspect it is a knower and known as such, and in another it is only known. The first is called subject, and the second object. These two aspects can be distinguished, but not divided or separated. People try to separate the object from the subject — to conceive the one as apart from the other ; but we have seen that the subject is the necessary support of the object — that nothing remains of the object if we attempt to conceive it out of relation to the subject. \Ve have tried to show that what we call matter is conditioned by mind— that the one cannot exist except in relation to, except as supported by, the other. Of these two aspects of consciousness one may be called the self, and the other the not-self ; but it must always be remembered that the self and the not-self are both inseparable aspects of one indivisible reality, — consciousness. The one concrete reality is consciousness, which we have often called merely the self. The term 'self seems to be sufficiently
CONXLUSION 75
expressive, for it implies both subjectivity and objectivity. The self both knows and is known. It is to this self, this conscious reality, that knowledge bears witness. Whatever we perceive by direct knowledge is included in this reality. What we do not perceive by direct knowledge, but know by inference, must also be believed as included in knowledge, as object of •the conscious self. If the reader believes that there is an endless world in endless space, that the world exists independently of our individual acts of knowing, he must then believe that there is a supernatural Mind supporting the world. That the same Consciousness, the same supreme Self, supports all time and space, all objects of this diversified world, and at the same time manifests itself as our life,— that even during the sleep, oblivion and ignorance of our individual lives the world exists in one eternal infinite and ever-waking Self — all this we shall prove by and by. Up to this point we have come only to the conclusion that knowledge or conciousness is the support and cause of the world, — that nothing can exist apart from consciousness.
76 KNOWLEDGE AND THE SENSES CHAP.
Section 4 — Knowledge and the Senses There is perhaps in the mind of some of my readers a lingering doubt as to the conclusion we have just arrived at, and I shall try in this sec- tion to remove it. They may say, — We take it as proved that all objects known through the senses, — colour, smell, warmth, hardness and the rest — depend on consciousness, are nothing but sensations. But are not the senses themselves, through which w^e perceive these objects, independ- ent of consciousness ? Do not sensations imply the senses ? If so, we must conclude that the senses existed before sensation as one of its factors, and as such are not dependent on consci- ousness. Now, in meeting this point, we must first ask, ' \\' hat are the senses ? ' When this question is properly answered, all difficulties vanish. The term ' senses ' bears two meanings. In whichever of these meanings it may be un- derstood, the senses are found to be objects depend- ent on consciousness. It must always be remem- bered that it is not the senses that perceive, the real percipient being the self. To the unreflective it is the eyes that see, the ears that hear, the tongue that tastes, and the hands that touch. Every thoughtful person knows that these notions are erroneous. A lifeless bod}' neither sees nor
I THE SENSES A? POWERS AND ORGANS 77
hears, neither tastes nor touches, though it has eyes and ears, a tongue and hands. It is the self that sees and hears, tastes and touches. But it is through the senses that the self does all this. Now let us see what this through points to. Seeing, hearing, tasting and touching are all actions of the self. Now, the fact that the self can see, — its power to see, — may be called its sense of sight. But this power or sense is nothing independent of the self, it is identical with it. Similarly, the self's power or sense of hearing and its power or sense of touching are identical with it. The knower and the power of knowing are not different things, but the same. If this is the meaning of ' the senses,' the proposition that the self per- ceives through the senses, that is, through its own power of perceiving, does not imply the existence of any extramental object ; it is only a somewhat roundabout way of expressing the simple truth that the self perceives. Now, this power of knowing, which is identical with the self, evidently does not depend on any other reality. On the contrary it is that on which all other things depend. As we have already seen, the consciousness of self is the support and condition of the consciousness of other things, and the existence of all other things is conditioned by the existence of the self.
78 KNOWLEDGE AND THE SENSES CHAP.
By 'the senses', we mean, in the second place, the bodily organs like the eyes and the ears. Whether we consider the external or the internal formation of these organs, they are in every respect things physical — parts of the objective world, and as such included in the sphere of knowledge. The self illumines or reveals them, as it does other physical objects ; and as other objects exist in relation to the knowing self, so do they. The eyes, the ears, the nose, the tongue, the skin, the nerves, the muscles, are things either seen or visible, touched or tangible. Whatever we have said, therefore, of things visible and tangible, applies to them. They cannot exist except in relation to consciousness. If so, if these objects are really dependent on the conscious self, how then can we say that the self knows through these objects, experiences sensations through them ? How can knowledge, apart from which the senses cannot exist, be itself dependent on the senses ? We do not in- deed mean to say that the eyes, the ears, and the other organs are dependent on our individual perceptions, our acts of knowing,— that they originated in the course of the growth or manifest- ation of our individual knowledge. That they are not so dependent, that they existed before the
I MIND ITSELF BEYOND SENSE 79
manifestation of our individual perceptions, is in- deed beyond doubt. But our individual perceptions, as we shall see by and by, are the revelation of an objective and universal Consciousness on which everything depends and which cannot depend on the senses. Because the senses are in- dependent of our individual perceptions, it does not follow, therefore, that they are independent of all knowledge, and the condition of all know- ledge. In fact not only the senses, but all that we perceive through them, are independent of our individual perceptions. They all existed before the individual manisfestation of consciousness which we call our life. But as other objects, though independent of our individual perceptions, are yet dependent on a superhuman Conscious- ness revealed by our perceptions, so are our senses dependent thereon. When the senses possess all the characteristics of material objects, they must be held as dependent on consciousness on the same ground on which other objects are held to be so dependent. They too exist in relation to the same superhuman Mind to which other objects owe their existence. The senses can have no speciality to that Mind. It is absurd to think that that Mind knows through the senses. As mind is the necessary condition of the existence of
8o KNOWLEDGE AND THE SENSES CHAP.
the senses, how can mind itself be dependent on the senses ? If it be said that there is no proof of the existence of a superhuman Mind, we can at present say only this in reply that if so, neither is there any proof of the existence of the sense- organs before they became objects of our in- dividual knowledge, or after they cease to be its objects. The appearance of the sense-organs and other material objects to our individual consciousness is the only basis of our inferences about them. It is from this basis that we infer that these objects existed even before this appear- ance took place. Now if this our individual perception is a valid ground for the the inference referred to, it is a valid ground for another in- ference, however little it may occur to the ordinary or even the scientific understanding, namely that the consciousness in relation to which these objects appear is not itself anything new, anything that occurs now, but that its individual form only is new, whereas it existed even before it assumed this form. However, we shall discuss this point at length in its proper place. We have shown only this much at present that the same evidence that proves that our sense-organs ex- isted before they appeared to our individual consciousness, also proves that they existed in
I INDIVIDUAL KNOWLEDGE DEPENDENT ON SENSE 81
relation to a consciousness — the same conscious- ness in essence, as we shall see, in relation to which they now appear. As these organs are dependent on that consciousness, it cannot depend on them. That it knows through these organs, that is, through objects dependent on it, is an absurdity.
But though consciousness itself cannot be de- pendent on the sense-organs, it is evident that its manifestation m our individual lives is, in a sense, dependent thereon. It is superfluous to point out that without the action of our eyes, ears, nerves, &c. we do not have the sensations of colour, sound, touch and the rest. That the action of the sense-organs is the scientific cause, the invariable antecedent, of sensation, is beyond doubt. But the scientific cause of an event is not its sole cause, not a cause that satisfies reason. Scientific causes are themselves effects and call for other causes. The ultimate cause of all effects — their metaphysical cause — is the self. That the sense-organs which are the scientific cause of our individual perceptions are not independent, that they too, like other objects, are dependent on the self, is, we hope, now evident to the reader.
82 THE SELF — UNIVERSAL AND INDIVIDUAL CHAP.
Section 5 — The self — universal & individual From what the reader has read of this book it may seem to him that we deny the unity and permanence of the world and reduce it to different selves and their transient sensations. It is not surprising that this should seem to be the purport of what we have so far said, but in reality it is not so. When the reader will have gone through our second and third chapters, he will see that as to ordinary belief, so to philosophical knowledge, the world is one and permanent. In this matter the difference between current belief and philosophical knowledge is that while to the former the world is independ- ent, to the latter it is dependent on the conscious self. However, we shall give here some idea of this truth — of the unity and permanence of the world — without keeping the reader waiting for the lengthy exposition of our second and third chapters. We have proved in this chapter that there is no independent not- self, what appears to be so being really dependent on the self. In every act of perception we know an undivided reality of which the one side is the knowing subject and the other the known object. If the reader has comprehended the truth that the known object cannot exist independently of the
I PERCEPTION- REVEALS A UNIVERSAL SELF 83
knowing subject, and that the latter is unmean- ing without reference to the former, then the object of our first chapter has been gained.
The question now is. Is the self we know in every act of perception individual or universal ? In showing that colour, taste, smell, sound and touch are dependent on consciousness we have repeatedly said that they are different sensations of different selves. But here and there we have also said that what we call our own self is not merely individual, but is essentially universal, all-comprehending, eternal and infinite, its in- dividual manifestation alone being finite and transient. This truth is implied in the explana- tion we have given of the material world. The current belief is that the material world exists independently of the self, and that in our acts of perception it comes into relation with the latter, the relation ceasing with the cessation of perception. If the reader has followed our explanation, he must have seen that this is not a correct description of perception. The true interpretation of perception is that in it an indivisible consciousness, a subject-object, is manifested in a finite form. In that reality sub- jectivity and objectivity are indissolubly related. It is not true that a subject and an object.
84 THE SELF — UNIVERSAL AND INDIVIDUAL CHAP.
essentiall}' unrelated to each other, comes into relation for a time : it is an indivisible reality containing the two moments of subject and object in unity and difference with each other that is manifested in every act of perception. Thus it will be seen that our self has not really that independence of or separation from the world of objects which is implied in calling it individual. Since in knowing every object we know the self as indissolubly related to it, where is its separation from the world of objects? It is because the true character of perception is not comprehended that the self and the world seem to be independent of each other. When this — the true character of perception — is comprehended, it is seen that in knowing an object we necessarily know the self on which it is dependent — that it is impossible to know an object without know- ing the self on which its existence depends. And the self we know is no other than the self we call our own. It is the self I call my own which is manifested as the support of everything I perceive. It is the self I call my own that, in my perception of my body, is manifested as that which sees, touches and understands it — as the subject and support of the object, the body. In perceiving the table before me, — in seeing,
I TWO ASPECTS OF THE SELF 85
touching and understanding it, I know my own self as its support. Whatever object I perceive, I know my own self along with it as its support. It is true that in every act of perception the self manifests itself as finite, that is, as the knovver and support of a definite number of objects, but that it is essentially infinite, and not finite, is evident at every step. That what was un- known to me a moment before is now known to me, that every day what was unknown before becomes known, shows that what I call my indivi- dual and finite self is not essentially individual and finite, but is in essence universal and infinite. If the reader considers all this, he will see that the self we call our own has two aspects, individual and universal, finite and infinite. That the self is essentially one, that the Supreme Self is the self of all cresitui'es—Sarvabhutdntardtmd, as the U panishads call him— the reader will see by and by. We shall expound this truth at length in our third chapter. For the present, let the reader try to apprehend the truth that in every act of perception we know the same self — the self we call our own — as an individual self — 'vijndndtma in the language of the Vedanta — and as the universal Self — the self of the world (visvdtmd). When the objects perceived by me
86 THE SELF — UNIVERSAL AND INDIVIDUAL CHAP.
cease to be the objects of my individual percep- tion, they seem to be severed from my self. It seems that in that condition they, though they may form the objects of some other self, are surely not the objects of my self. But the reader vi^ill see that we necessarily conceive of their existence in that condition as dependent on knowledge — the knowledge of our own self. Unless we conceive of them as such, no conception of them, no belief about them, is possible. As the table before me, when per- ceived through the senses, is presented as the object of my self, so must it be thought of in its absence from my senses as the object of my own self. Unless it is conceived as such, no conception of it, no belief about it, is possible. And it is evident that such a conception and belief is necessary. If, in our acts of percep- tion, we perceived any object independent of knowledge, we might, even on the cessation of perception, think of and believe that object as independent of knowledge. But in per- ception we do not come across any such object. What is manifested in perception is what we call our own self, with the colours, tastes, touches &c., which are indissolubly connected with it. If, therefore, we must conceive of and believe in
I THE TWO ASPECTS INSEPARABLE 87
the existence of the object of perception even on the cessation and in the absence of the percep- tive act, we can think of and believe in it only in the form in which we perceive it, namely as our own self and its objects. Thus a close inquiry into the nature of knowledge and belief discloses the fact that in conceiving and believing the universe to be permanent, connected and one, we really conceive our own self as permanent, as the connecting principle, and as one. The truth that the world is permanent, connected and one, means this, and nothing else, that the selves which at first right appear to be many and independent of one another and of the world, are essentially one, indivisible and the support of the world. As we have already said, the self we call our own, has two aspects, finite and infinite, indivi- dual and universal. In our perception of nature, we specially realise its universal aspect. We then see that it is the self, the support, of the universe. When, on the other hand, we abstract as much as we can from our knowledge of nature and attend specially to self-consciousness, we realise specially that it is a finite or individual self. But these two aspects are inseparable, though distinguishable, from each other. The reader will realise this truth more and more
o8 THE SELF — UNIVERSAL AND INDIVIDUAL CHAP.
clearly as he proceeds. He will see by and by that though the finite selves appear to be in- dependent of one another and of nature, there is nevertheless an essential unity behind this discreteness. We have already stated the fundamental principle of this exposition. Though different minds feel different sensations, these different sensations are knowable to all, — there is a connecting link in them. The reader will see that the Universal Self is the connecting link and that it is because the Universal Self is the inner self of each one of us, that it is possible for us to know the different feelings of different minds. We have said, moreover, that all space is connected, and the self is the connecting principle. Each one of us directly perceives by his senses only a small portion of space, namely the sentient parts of our bodies. We also know objects external to the body when they touch it, but such knowledge is not direct, but mediated by inference. However, our knowledge of space, be it mediate or immediate, involves in it the ideas of unity and infinity. We know each por- tion of space as included in one infinite space. And in this knowledge of one infinite space is implied the knowledge of the unity and infinity of the self. We could not know one infinite
ANTICIPATION OF THE THIRD CHAPTER
space if we were not essentially one with the one, indivisible, infinite Supreme Self. We shall try to make this truth as clear as we can in our chapter on " Unity-m difference."
CHAPTER II
THE TEMPORAL AND THE ETERNAL
Section i — Sensationalism and Subjective Idealism
In this second chapter it is our purpose to establish the eternality of knowledge. We pro- pose to show in it that the consciousness which manifests itself as the light and support of all that we know, which is the only consciousness of which we are directly aware, which is not subject to our individual will, but is the cause and con- dition of that will, which, though not manifest in our hours of individual ignorance, oblivion and sleep, re-manifests itself independently of our individual will and dispels our ignorance, oblivion and sleep— is not merely our individual conscious- ness, but is ultimately an all-knowing and ever- waking Self in which the world eternally exists.
At the very beginning of the present chapter, we shall give an exposition of two philosophical
II EXPOSITION OF SENSATIONALISM QI
theories which are opposed to the truth stated above, and then refute them by explaining at some length the eternality of knowledge. They are called Sensationalism and Subjective Idealism. The former contends that as our sensuous know- ledge,— the only kind of knowledge it recognises — consists only of sensations, there is no such thing as a permanent world. We are not directly aware of any other consciousness than our own and all that we perceive depend on that con- sciousness. But as our individual/ consciousness is subject to ignorance, oblivion and sleep, and as the objects known by us are continually pass- ing out of our consciousness, these objects cannot be called permanent. These objects are only transient states of our mind and the world is nothing but a series of flowing, impermanent sensations. What is now is no more next moment, and what comes next moment is fresh sensation. If it be said that there is a permanent self which supports sensations, the reply is that this self is nothing but the memory — an aggregate of recollec- tions, of faint images— of past sensations. We know this self only as the percipient and re- collector of sensations, and as nothing else. When therefore it falls asleep or otherwise becomes unconscious, when it is no more either
92 SENSATIONALISM AND SUBJECTIVE IDEALISM CHAP.
a percipient or recollector of sensations, it cannot, in any intelligible sense, be said to exist. As its very existence means the perception of sen- sations, how can it exist in an insentient state ? That the self and the world seem to be permanent, is the result of the association of ideas and ex- pectation consequent upon it. Let us take for example the table before us and explain the Sen- sationalist theory of the world. It is only when I see the table, touch it, and press it with my hand or any other limb, that it exists actually ; for it is nothing but an aggregate of sensations. When I cease to feel these sensations, there is no proof that they actually exist. And if they do exist, they can do so only in relation to another mind, — to me they are actually nothing. But to me they exist as possibilities, though not as actualities. When I simply see the table, and do not touch it or feel my hands over it or press it, its colour only is actually present to me ; but the other qualities, though not actually present, are present as possibilities. The recollections of the sensations of colour, coldness, smoothness, hardness, &c., which I experienced by seeing and touching it, and by pressing it and feeling my hands over it, exist in my mind in an associated form, so that when one of such sensations is ex-
II EXPOSITION OF SEN'SATIONALISM 93
perienced, an expectation of experiencing the others rises in the mind. When I only see the table and perceive only its colour, — its coldness, smoothness and hardness exist as possibilities, though not actualities, that is, there exists the possibility of their being experienced on the necessary conditions being fulfilled. We have learnt by experience that on putting our hand in a certain place, we shall feel its coldness, and that by feeling it over and pressing it with our hands we shall experience its smoothness and hardness. It is this expectation of experiencing the sensations, this their possible existence, that we describe in practical life as their actual or real existence. What we mean by saying that the table is cold, smooth and hard, that the table has coldness, smoothness and hardness, even without actually experiencing these sensations, is simply the fact that the needful conditions being fulfilled, there is a possibility of our ex- periencing these sensations. In the same manner when, by simply touching the table and even without seeing it, we say, ' it is brown,' 'it has a brown colour,' we mean only that when it comes in sight, there is a possibility of our ex- periencing the sensation of brown colour. Even when the table is quite unperceived, when we
94 SENSATIONALISM AND SUBJECTIVE IDEALISM CHAP.
neither see it nor touch it nor have any other sensations of it, we say 'it is' and 'it is brown, told, smooth and hard,' and this only means that the proper conditions being fulfilled, there is a possibility of these sensations being- experienced. i\nd this possibility is permanent. Long experience has generated in us a firm faith in the permanence and uniformity of the laws of nature. We believe that on the occurrence of the scientific causes of sensations, sensations must arise. Even when that aggregate of sensations we call a table is unperceived, we know that on the necessary conditions being fulfilled, the sensations which constitute it will be experienced. These sensations exist, not as barely but as permanently possible ; so that when unfelt by us, they may be called permanently possible sensations or "per- manent possibilities of sensation."* In the same manner all natural objects, when unperceived, are nothing but permanently possible sensations. The existence of the world means its existence as an aggregate of possible sensations. As the world cannot exist except in mind, and as there is no proof of a superhuman mind, and as the
* J. S. Mill. See his Examination of Hamilton, Chap. XI : Psychological Theory of the Belief in an External World.
II SENSATIONALIST THEORY OF THE SELF 95
mind of man and other animals is subject to to ignorance, oblivion and sleep, the actual existence of the world is not permanent ; it can be called permanent only as an aggregate of permanently possible sensations.
This in brief is the Sensationalist theory of the material world. It is also the theory approved by Subjective Idealism. To both the objective world is nothing but a series of transient sensa- tions. But the two schools differ a good deal in their theories of the self. To Sensationalism the self is as much a series of sensations as the world. Sometimes it is found that the self can exist even without experiencing sensations like colour and touch. But even at such times there are in it faint copies or representations of such sensations. At such times it is nothing but an aggregate of recollections. The remembered sensations are only comparatively faint copies of actual sensa- tions, and the self, when in the state of recollec- tion, is only an aggregate of these faint copies. In a state of utter oblivion and dreamless sleep, there is no proof of the existence of the self, and in fact there is no meaning in such existence. It can very well be siid that in waking the self is re-formed by the re-appearance of past recollec- tions. However, we have not found any Sensa-
g6 SEN'SATIONALISM AND SUBJECTIVE IDEALISM CHAP.
tionalist setting forth this theory without hesita- tion and inconsistency. David Hume himself, the father of Western Sensationalism, has partly admitted its inconsistency.* He acknowledges his failure to explain how a series of transient sensations persists as memory, — how such a lapsed series returns, as it seems to do. John Stuart Mill, partially a follower of Hume, having tried hard to establish this theory, at length admits that there is an insurmountable difficulty in establish- ing, it. In the third edition of his bookf al- ready referred to, he abandoned Sensational- ism and accepted Subjective Idealism. The insurmountable difficulty referred to by Mill is this : — Sensations are transient and passing. A sensation that passes away, passes for ever and cannot return. What succeeds is fresh sensation, whether vivid or faint. Now, memory tells us that the same T who experienced a past sensation experience also the present, — that though the past sensation is gone, I am not gone with it. Now, if the self were nothing but a series of
* See Hume's Treatise on Human Nature, Part IV. Sec. VI. and its Appendix. See also Green's Introduction to Humes Works.
I Examination of Hamilton, Chap. XII and the follow- ing Appendix.
II WHERE THE THEORIES DIFFER 97
sensations, this verdict of memory would have no meaning. A flow of transient sensations can by no means know themselves as a permanent 'I.' The self therefore is a permanent reality. It is strange that Mill acknowledges this truth so late, and that he ignored it when he was trying to build everything in earth and heaven with 'expec- tation' and 'association of ideas', which can have no meaning unless the permanence of the self is acknowledged.* It is indeed impossible to make any assertion except on the supposition of its permanence. "j" However, the difference between Sensationalism and Subjective Idealism is here, — the latter's admission of the permanence of the self. But though acknowleding the permanence of the self, this theory does not acknowledge the permanence of knowledge. It does not admit that the self is always knowing or conscious, always sopddhika or saguna, in the language of of Indian philosophy. Certain species of Subjective Idealism, such as that of Sankara, teaches that the self is ever-conscious of itself, whether in the waking or dreaming state or in dreamless sleep.
* See a short but nice criticism of Mill's "'Psychological Theory " in Masson's Recent British Philosophy.
t " A consistent Sensationalism must be speechless," — Green.
go SENSATIONALISM AND SUBJECTIVE IDEALISM CHAP.
But they do not admit that the consciousness of objects is inseparable from the consciousness of the self, and that the self is always as conscious of objects as it is of itself. Let us give a some- what full statement of the theory.
The main contention of Subjective Idealism is this : — So long as the senses work the self undergoes modifications, but that this modified or sopddhika state is not the essential nature of the self, is easily seen. The objects of sense are transient. The visible world exists only so long as we keep our eyes open ; it disappears as soon as they are closed. In the same manner tangible objects exist only so long as we touch. Objects of sense are transient — passing in the ever-flowing current of time. The sensible world is nowhere when the senses cease to work. It is only the eternal, unmodified, nirupddhika self that exists then. It may be objected that even when the senses cease to work, the world exists as the object of the self's memory — as the object of pure non-sensuous knowledge. But where is the proof for this statement ? Memory too, like per- ception, is only a transient state of the self. We do not remember always all that we perceive. Like sensuous knowledge the knowledge furnished by memory too passes away. And then, as
II ARGUMENT FOR SUBJECTIVE IDEALISM 99
to the state of sleep, though some conscious- ness of objects persists in dreams, it entirely ceases in dreamless sleep. In that state the self is conscious only of itself and not of any object. If you contend that self-con- sciousness cannot exist without object-conscious- ness, let us admit that a bit of object-conscious- ness persists till then. But this does not prove the permanence of this diversified world of ob- jects. If it be said that though the individual self forgets the world, the Universal Self does not, and that his knowledge is always differenced, the reply is that there is no proof of the existence of such a Supreme Self, with a differentiated content of knowledge. Self-knowledge is the only basis of the knowledge of Brahman, and our self- knowledge bears witness only of an eternal un- differentiated Self without objects. It is this undifferented Self that is the seed of the world. It is this self that becomes differentiated through its Maya and appears as the world, but this differentiation is not its permanent or essential nature. In essence it is pure consciousness without differences, without the giinas and without objects. It is not a knower, not a subject or agent of knowledge, but knowledge itself.
This argument in favour of Subjective Idealism
lOO KNOWLEDGE A UNITY-IN-DIFFERENCE CHAP.
seems apparently unanswerable, but on a some- what close examination it is found to be extremely fallacious inspite of its apparent validity. Self- knowledge is indeed the basis of the knowledge of God, but the Mayavadin, the Subjective Idealist, does not really understand the import of self- knowledge, which bears witness, not of an un- differentiated self without objects, but of an Objec- tive Self, a World-soul, with an infinitely differen- tiated content of knowledge. We proceed to explain our view as clearly as we can.
Section 2 — Knowledge a Unity-in-difference
We draw the reader's attention again to the second of the two principles expounded in the first section of our first chapter. We have shewn therein that as the self cannot know anything without knowing itself, so it cannot know itself without knowing some object or other. As self- knowledge is the support of the knowledge of objects, so the knowledge of objects is the constant accompaniment of self-knowledge. The self can know itself only as a knower, and to know itself as a knower, it must know something which it can distinguish from itself. We have seen that what the self knows, what forms its object, is really within knowledge and
FALLACY OF SUBJECTIVE IDEALISM lOI
cannot exist independently of the self, — that between it and the self there is only a distinction, but no division. Nevertheless this distinction is necessary for knowledge, knowledge being impossible without it. The self cannot know itself unless it knows something which it can distinguish from itself. Knowledge is the synthesis of two distinct but inseparable ele- ments,— the knowledge of self and the knowledge of objects. In the absence of any of these two elements knowledge is impossible. In fact they are two aspects of the same reality. It is the same indivisible reality that wonderfully com- prises this unity and difference.
It must now be seen that as we can neither know nor conceive a self-knowledge without a knowledge of objects, as, besides, it is something absurd and self-contradictory, the existence of such a thing is incredible. And it cannot be that what is unknowable and inconceivable is really believed by any one. It must therefore be of the nature of those absurdities, accepted by popular belief and philosophical theories, some of which we have already dealt with. We thus see clearly the fallacy of Subjective Idealism. The 'object- less knowledge', the 'subject without a knowledge of objects' which it speaks of, belongs to the same
KNOWLEDGE A UN'ITY-IN-DIFFEREN-CE
class of things as the Naturalist's 'unknown object of knowledge', 'unfelt feeling', 'unknowable cause', that is, 'unknowable object of knowledge'. A mere object or a mere subject, a mere knower or a mere knowable is not a reality. The only reality is a conscious self which is a subject-object, a unity-in-difference.*
In whatever way we may look upon the sub- ject, it is found to be distinct yet related to the object. The subject is one, the object manifold ; but the 'one' unrelated to the 'many', is meaning- less : 'one' means 'one in many'. The self is permanent, unchangeable ; but the permanent, the unchangeable, unrelated to the transient, the changeable, is meaningless ; 'permanent' means 'permanent among the transient', and 'unchange- able' means 'unchangeable in the midst of a flow of change.' The self is out of space ; it is the support of things in space, but is not itself ex- tended. But unless it knows itself as distinct from and yet related to things extended, it can- not know itself as out of space. 'Out of space' is meaningless except with reference to things in space. A subject without objects, self-conscious-
* See Ferrier's Institutes of Mctaphysic, Section III : Ontology, and Caircl's Hegel, Chaps. VII and VIII.
II ABSURDITY OF 'AN UNCONSCIOUS SELF' IO3
ness without a consciousness of objects, is there- fore meaningless and impossible.
So far we see the error of the Subjective Ideal- ism or Mdydvdda which believes in an objectless- consciousness. We now proceed to show the error — which can be easily done — of that form of the theory which teaches the doctrine of a purely unconscious self — a self which can and does be- come wholly unconscious at times, losing both its consciousness of itself and that of objects. The first thing to be said against this theory is, that as the self manifests itself as knowledge and knowledge alone, as it is a conscious reality that we know as self and call and understand by the name, an unconscious self, that is an unconscious consciousness, is nothing but a self-contradiction, a meaningless phrase. It is nothing more real or possible than the self-contradictory and absurd things we have already dealt with. Something that manifests itself as consciousness, is known as consciousness, is called a self only because it is conscious, whose selfhood consists in cons- ciousness, whose very existence depends on cons- ciousness— what remains of it when bereft of consciousness ? What proof is there that it then continues to exist ? How can a thing exist without its attributes ? How can a conscious
I04 KNOWLEDGE A UNITY-IN-DIFFERENCE CHAP.
thing exist without consciousness ? For it to be without consciousness is to cease to exist. Secondly, if it be admitted for a moment that even when bereft of consciousness, something of the self yet remains, that an attributeless subs- tance still persists, the Mayavadin, the subjective Idealist, would gain nothing by this admission. He may be asked. Why call this substance a self and not matter ? How does a self without cons- ciousness differ from matter ? The M^y^v^din thinks that this attributeless substance can and does become conscious again, and hence he calls it a self rather than matter. But that is im- possible. What has once become unconscious, has lost all its knowledge, can never again re- cover its lost knowledge. The M^y^v^din will perhaps say, you characterise as impossible what is happening in our daily experience. We see every day how in sleep we lose all our know- ledge— our knowledge of self and knowledge of objects — and in rewaking recover it. What can be a clearer proof than this of the fact that the self, having once lost its consciousness, can regain it, — that having once become nirguna or attributeless it can again become saguna, possessed of attributes ? This is the Mayavadin's argument. We proceed to show
II KNOWLEDGE NEVER LOST IO5
its error. We shall show how little the Maya- vadin understands the meaning of experi- ence, to which he appeals. Let us suppose that I lose my knowledge of the inkstand, the pen, the paper and the table before me, and with that the knowledge of my own self that constantly accompanies it, and fall asleep. These ideas are all gone, for, when the self becomes unconscious where else can ideas exist ? My self, the essence of my life, is left as an empty receptacle. In due course I awake and regain my knowledge of the inkstand, the pen, the paper and the table, and that of my own self. I remember that I knew these things before I fell asleep and that the same self that knew them before knows them now. The question now is. How could the knowledge that was utterly lost, that had, as it were dried up and left its receptacle empty, come back again ? To the M^y^v^din, knowledge is not permanent, it is only a transient flow of sensa- tions or ideas. Now, past knowledge, that is, the past flow of sensations, died away in sleep and cannot come back. What comes now must be fresh sensation or sensations. That a number of fresh sensations are being experienced now, is indeed a fact, but it is also a fact that with these fresh sensations have come certain old ideas.
I06 KNOWLEDGE A UKITY-IN-DIFFERE\XE CHAP.
The knowledge that the new sensations are similar to the old, which makes it possible for me to recognise the things as known before and the old knower as identical with the present knower, implies really the presence of old ideas. How could these old ideas come ? To the self which lost both its self-consciousness and object- consciousness everything must appear new. To one who lost the old, the old can never come. That the old ideas have come back, con- clusively proves that they were not lost, that neither self-consciousness nor object-conscious- ness was really lost, that the self did not become an empty receptacle. It is proved that self-cons- ciousness, with which object consciousness is in- separably blended, though it does not manifest itself in the form of the individual consciousness in dreamless sleep, yet remains intact in that state, otherwise it could not manifest itself again, as it does, in the state of waking. The reader will, it is hoped, now see the error of M^yavdda. He will see that though both the Sensationalist and the Subjective Idealist make much of the "associa- tion of ideas", they really do not understand its full significance. They think that such associa- tion is possible to a sleeping and forgetful self, and that such abstract and impossible 'association'
II WHAT THE 'association OF IDEAS* IMPLIES I07
is the basis of memory and experience. But this is a palpable mistake. What can the 'association of ideas' mean to one, — how is it possible to one — ■ who forgets ideas at every step, who loses them and even the consciousness of his own self ? How can ideas remain associated or united in him who at every step becomes devoid of ideas ? Unless the objects of knowledge are indissolubly united in an ever-waking and unforgetful Self and unless this Self manifests itself in our indivi- dual life, nothing like experience and memory is at all possible.*
We have already said that the consciousness that forms the essence of our life is not dependent on our individual will. We have also said that what we call our individual consciousness is not absolutely individual. Perhaps the reader has now got a glimpse of this truth. A glimpse, however, is not enough. What we have said briefly in this section, we shall explain more fully in the next. We shall try to show clearly that knowledge is eternal, that it has neither begin- ning nor end, and that not a particle of it can ever be lost.
* See Caird's Philosophy of Kant (old edition) p. 285, p. 452 and sundry other places. Also Sankara's commen- tary on the Brahma Sutras, II. 2. 31.
I08 KNOWLEDGE AND WILL CHAP.
Section 3 — Knowledge and Will To understand the truth that an Eternal Con- sciousness— ever- waking and unforgetting — is at the basis of our life, it must at first be clearly seen that our knowing — the appearance and dis- appearance of sensation, memory, and under- standing in our life, our waking and sleep- ing— is not due to our individual volitions. Our individual volitions are dependent on sensation, memory and understanding, in a word, on know- ledge. First knowledge, then volition. It is impossible for the will, i.e. the mind conceived as capable of acting, to put forth a volition unless it knows, unless it understands. It is there- fore evident that the manifestation of knowledge in our life, — the appearance of sensation, memory and understanding— is not dependent on our indi- vidual volitions. The wonder is that we are so blind to this truth, though it is so obvious. We speak so egotistically of "my knowledge", "my understanding", and "my life", as if these matters depended on our individual volitions, as if our own will were the creator of our knowledge, un- derstanding and life. It is this blind egotism that keeps off from us the true knowledge of God and a clear realisation of his presence. However, let us discuss a little the truth just mentioned.
II KNOWLEDGE NOT SUBJECT TO WILL IO9
That we see, hear and feel — that these innu- merable sensations of colour, taste, smell, sound and touch, and emotions of pleasure, pain, love, reverence &c. are entering our mind and making our life possibe — are these dependent on our will ? Do we create them by our respective voli- tions ? It is evident that such is not the case. Our individual will is utterly inactive as to the rise of these phenomena. These mental events must occur first before our will can act. That these diversified phenomena are appearing before our mind day after day, moment after moment, that wonderful scenes are being enacted day by day and moment by moment on the stage of our mental life without our will taking the least part in them — people see nothing deep and mys- terious in this. They do not pause to ask who occupies the mind and plays these wonderful sports with it. And yet no other scene presents such a deep significance. However, it is evident that our v/ill has no hand in these performances. When these phenomena have appeared, our will may take hold of them and put forth volitions. But that too requires memory. When once these phenomena have disappeared, the will cannot act until they re-appear. But their re-appear- ance is entirely irrespective of our volitions. We
KNOWLEDGE AND WILL CHAP.
cannot bring them back by our will. To forget a thing is for it to be "out of mind", and on what is out of mind, out of knowledge, the will cannot act. It is only on something before it that the mind can act. It will therefore be seen on a little thinking that the recurrence of ideas to our mind — our remembrance — does not depend on our will. If it is due to any body's will, it is the will of One in whose hand our mind is, who nev4r forgets anything and who is play- ing with the mind the solemn sport of forgetting and remembering. Like perception, memory too seems to ordinary people to be a plain and simple thing, without anything mysterious about it. But really it is a most wonderful and mys- terious affair. We are every moment forgetting the most useful things of life — things which, if they did not return to memory, would make life impossible. But in what a wonderful way they are returning every moment ! When we are deeply intent on some work, we forget our very name, our residence, our age, the place and the time in which we are, our house, the furniture, our family, friends, the whole of our acquired experience, — all things, even the event that occur- red last moment. What would occur if these things did not recur in time ! A total suspension
II MEMORY AND WAKING NOT SUBJECT TO WILL III
of memory would mean our reduction to almost an inert mass of matter, for even the least action requires memory. This act of writing on my part would be impossible if the memory of these writing materials, which was absent a moment before, did not occur in time, if the knowledge acquired before did not flow into the mind moment by moment. That memory which is so important to life, without which life would be impossible, is not in the hands of our will. In whose hands it is, we shall see by and by.
And then, waking from sleep is even a more mysterious affair than perception and memory, and yet to most people habit divests it of its mysteriousness. In profound dreamless sleep, perception, memory, and even self-consciousness disappear. There is nothing that strikes at a man's pride so much as sleep, if only he understands its significance. It shows clearly how very dependent man is. The wise and the ignorant, the rich and the poor, the strong and the weak, — all are equally helpless and depend- ent in this condition. However, to awake from it, to return from unconsciousness to conscious- ness, is entirely beyond the power of our will, — sleep comes and goes independently of our will. We may help — only help and do nothing more —
112 TIME AND EVENTS CHAP.
the approach of sleep by voluntarily making our limbs still and composing our thoughts, but awaking is entirely independent of our will. In sleep we lose the knowledge both of our body and mind — our very self-consciousness ; any exercise of our voluntary powers in it is therefore out of the question. But how wonderfully re- appears the consciousness, with its contents, that had vanished ! It might as well not re-appear at all. The gates of conscious life that were closed might not open again. It is not in our power to re-open them. But they do re-open. The self-consciousness and object-consciousness that had vanished re-manifest themselves and re-enact the scenes of conscious life. That the agent of this act cannot himself sleep, but must be ever- waking, we have already seen in some degree ; but it is necessary to explain this truth at greater length.
Section 4 — Time and Events*
To understand that knowledge is an eternal reality, — that there was no time when knowledge
* See Green's Lectures on the Philosophy of Kant in the second volume of his works, pp. 72-81, "The Empirical Reality of Time." See also an inconsistency of Kant on the subject of time pointed out in Sec. F, of the same lectures, pp. 50-57.
II RELATION OF TIME TO KNOWLEDGE II3
was not, that no time comes when knowledge ceases to exist, and that no time will come when knowledge will pass away— we must understand the relation of time to knowledge. Those who do not acknowledge the eternality of knowledge, those who think that knowledge begins with the origin of animal organisms, that the knowledge of living beings ceases to exist at times, or that the source and cause of the world is something that was unconscious once, became conscious at some undefined time, and may or will become un- conscious at some other undefinable time, — the fundamental error of these thinkers is that they suppose time to be independent of knowledge — imagine that there can be time without con- sciousness. We now proceed to show their error. We have already seen that space and all objects in space depend on knowledge. If we can show now that time and all events in time is depend- ent on knowledge, all nature will be seen to be within knowledge and the foundations of Ideal- ism,— those of true Theology — will be firmly laid. In the present section we shall discuss the nature of time, and in the next the relation of time to knowledge.
Space means the relation of 'here' and 'there' — the connection of different parts. The
114 TIME AND EVENTS
elements are nothing apart from the connection and the connection nothing apart from the elements. Space consists in the connection of infinite parts ; and the necessary condition of this connection is consciousness. The reader has known this already with reference to space. As space is something implying relation, so is time. Time is the relation of 'now' and 'then'. The reader may say that as 'now' itself implies time, there is no need of its relation to 'then'. But the fact is that mere 'now' means nothing. Apart from its relation to 'then', 'now' has no meaning. 'After' is meaningless without relation to 'before', and 'before' has no meaning without relation to 'after'. It is only the re- lation of 'now' and 'then', 'before' and 'after' that is called time. Without relation to one another 'now' and 'then', 'before' and 'after' are meaningless, and the relation itself is meaningless without the related facts 'now' and 'then', 'before' and 'after'. Time is a purely relative term. It is meaningless except as a relation between 'now' and 'then', 'before' and 'after.' 'Now' and 'then', 'before' and 'after' are not mere abstract terms ; they imply events and have no meaning except with reference to events. 'Now' and 'then' mean 'this event' and 'that event' ;
II TIME MEANINGLESS WITHOUT EVENTS II5
'before' and 'after' mean an antecedent and a sequent event. It may seem to the reader at times as if 'now' and 'then', 'before' and 'after' could have a meaning even without reference to events — as if "the event has happened now" might mean that 'now' has some meaning even without the event ; but on thinking a little, he will see that 'now' has no meaning except with reference to the event. Events indeed may be of various kinds ; but of whatever kind they may be, 'now' vi/ill apply to each. From this it may seem as if 'now' were some thing general and events only particulars, — as if 'now' and 'this event occurring now' were not the same thing. But in fact the general has no meaning apart from the particular. An event may be of any kind, but without some event or other 'now' has no meaning. Many a time comes when no ex- ternal e^'ent — no event relating to the world in space — takes place. It may seem at such a time as if 'now' has a meaning even apart from events ; but even at such a time events do occur. At such a time, a flow of thoughts passes through our minds and it is this which gives the meaning to 'now.' Through the want of the power of in- trospection we fail to recognise these events as events. The reader therefore sees that the real
H6 TIME AND EVENTS
CHAP.
meaning of 'now' and 'then', 'before' and 'after', is 'an antecedent event' and 'a sequent event', and that without reference to events these words and phrases mean nothing. Consequently the relation of things or facts we call time has events for its related facts. Time = the relation of antecedents and sequents. Time is nothing apart from events. An eventless time is an un- meaning and impossible thing. On the other hand, a timeless event is also an unmeaning and impossible thing. We have already said that a relation is nothing apart from the objects related, and the related objects themselves are nothing apart from the relation. It is the objects that give a meaning to the relation, and it is the relation that gives meaning to the objects.
All events happen in time ; 'happening' means happening in time. Every event is an event happening now or then, but 'an event happening now' has no meaning apart from its relation to 'an event happening then ; and vice versa. Every event therefore is related to other events as antece- dent or sequent,— there can be no event which is not so related. An event unrelated to other events is one that does not happen in time, that is, does not happen at all. 'Happening', as we have seen, means happening in time, and a timeless event
n 'an absolutely first event' 117
is an unmeaning and impossible thing. What we are trying to explain is a self-evident truth, and such a truth is seen as self-evident as soon as its meaning is comprehended. It is only to one who does not realise its meaning that it appears to be not a truth. The reader has only to read thoughtfully a number of times what has been said on the subject, and its truth will be evident to him.
It follows from what has been said — we men- tion it only to make it explicit — that there can be no event which is absolutely first or absolutely last. A particular series of events — one before which other events have occurred and after which other events will occur — may indeed have a first or a last event. Of the series a, b, c, d, — a may be the first and d the last ; but an event before which no other event has at all happened, or after which no other event will at all happen, is an impossibility. We can indeed talk of such an event just as we have already spoken of and may speak of several other absurd and self- ■ contradictory things ; but that we can talk of such a thing does not make it any the less absurd and self-contradictory. An absolutely first event is one before which no other event has happened ; it is a sequent unrelated to an
ii8
TIME AND EVENTS CHAP.
antecedent. But a sequent, as we have seen, is unmeaning without reference to an antecedent. Consequently the event in question is not an absolutely first event, but has an antecedent. But the reader will perhaps say that we are arguing in a circle or fighting against an enemy created by ourselves. He will perhaps say, "Why call the event in question a sequent ? If it were a sequent, it would indeed be necessarily related to an antecedent." But really we are helpless in the matter. 'An absolutely first event' can mean nothing but one before which no other event has occurred. It has therefore a 'before,' and if a 'before,' — an antecedent time, — then an antecedent event also, for an antecedent time has no meaning without an antecedent event. As we have already seen, time without events is un- meaning and impossible. It is therefore evident that 'a first event' can mean only 'the first event of a particular series.' 'No other event has happened before this' can only mean that no event of this particular series or kind has preceded it. Events belonging to other series or of other kinds must have happened. An absolutely first event, before which no other event whatever happened, is something self- contradictory and impossible.
J
II 'an absolutely last event' 119
Like an absolutely first event, an absolutely last event also is an impossibility. xA.n absolutely last event is an event after which no other event happens, that is, which has an 'after', but not a sequent. But 'after' has no meaning apart from an event, an eventless time being unmeaning and impossible. An absolutely last event, an event after which no other event occurs, is therefore an impossibility. In this case also as in the preceding, it is to be remarked that with re- ference to a particular series or kind of events it may indeed be said that no other event happened or will happen after it. But that events of other series or kinds happened or will happen after it, is a necessity. An absolutely last event is something self-contradictory and impossible.
One more truth needs to be made explicit. We have seen that time without events is un- meaning and impossible, so that there can be no time in which no event occurs, and there cannot be an absolutely first or an absolutely last event. It is also clear then that between two events there can be no time when no event occurs. Such a time is an eventless time, a relation without related objects, and is therefore some- thing self-contradictory and impossible. The
120 TIME AND EVENTS CHAP.
existence of time means the existence of events happening in time. B, instead of happening immediately after A, may happen long after it ; but in that case a number of events must happen in the time intervening between A and B, whether those events are or are not of the same kind as A and B, or else this intervening time has no meaning whatever. If nothing happens immediately after A, then it has an 'after', but no sequent. Similarly, if nothing happens immediately before B, it follows that it has an antecedent time without an antecedent event. But we have already seen that 'before' and 'after' have no meaning without antecedent and sequent events. It is therefore evident that there can be no time without events, — not a moment when some event or other does not happen.
We saw before that there cannot be an abso- lutely first event — an event with empty, un- occupied time before it. We have then seen that there cannot be an absolutely last event, — an event with unoccupied time after it. We have seen, to put the matter briefly, that all time must be filled, — filled with events. Now, from these truths the inference follows that events form an infinite series — a series without be- ginning and end. No event included in this
MEANING OF INFINITE TIME
endless series is unrelated or independent ; each is necessarily related to each. That 'time is infinite' is true in two senses. It means, first, that events form an infinite series. It means, secondly, that he who is the necessary condition of this relation, the cause and support of this infinite series of events, is himself infinite, that is eternal. But we only mention this truth here ; we shall explain it in its proper place.
Section 5 — Knowledge and Time*
Having seen v/hat time means, let us now discuss the relation of knowledge to it. At the very beginning of this discussion, let us remind the reader of the conclusion of our first chapter, that on self and not-self. Whatever we know, knew or shall know, whatever we think, thought, shall think or can think,^ — everything whose existence is believable^ — depends on knowledge. Events therefore depend on knowledge. Every event is either the appearance or disappearance of objects of knowledge ; consequently all events, present, past and future, are objects of knowledge. Events may be of two kinds. One kind of
* See Green's Prolegomena to Ethics, Chaps. I and II, and Green's Lectures on the Philosophy of Kant (in his Works Vol. II), Sees. C, F and I. See also Caird's Philosophy of Kant (old edition), Part Second, Chaps, v— ix.
KNOWLEDGE A\D TIME CHAP.
events happens in things in space, for instance my act of writing. Writing is possible only in connection with paper, pen and ink, and all these objects are in space. Events of this class are called physical actions or events. There is another kind of actions which have no relation to space, at any rate no direct relation, for example hearing among sensuous actions, and the rise of such purely internal feelings as pleasure, pain, love, hate. But both these kinds of events depend on knowledge.
One word more before we proceed to our main discussion. The reader has already become somewhat familiar with the thing 'sensation'. There is only one word more to be said about it. Sensation has two forms. The one is its rise in particular times and in relation to particular antecedents. In this form we shall speak of it as only an 'event'. The other is the form in which it exists unchanged as the object of the unchangeable conscious self, as eternally related to it. In this form we shall often speak of it as 'knowledge of events'. Gradually the reader will see the distinction of these two forms of sensation.
The reader has seen that time is nothing apart from events and that events cannot exist
H TIME DEPENDS ON KNOWLEDGE 1 23
apart from knowledge. It has also been shewn that events form an infinite series, and that this infinite series of events is internally related, no event being unrelated to another. It follows therefore that there was no time when knowledge was not, and that no time will come when there will be no knowledge. And we get also a glimpse of the truth that this knowledge, with- out beginning and without end, is one and indivisible. There was no time when there were no events ; but events depend on knowledge ; therefore there was no time when there was no knowledge. No time will come when there will be no events ; but events imply knowledge ; therefore, no time will come when there will be no knowledge. All events are mutually related ; but objects cannot be related or connected unless there is something common in them to connect them. In this case knowledge or consciousness is that common link. Consciousness, though one and indivisible, experiences different sensa- tions. Consciousness therefore is the uniting principle of events, the condition of the relation we call time. All events are connected, — past, present and future are all linked together in time ; knowledge or consciousness therefore is one. That knowledge is the uniting principle
124 KNOWLEDGE AND TIME CHAP.
of events, the forger of the chain of time, and therefore free from it, transcending it, — that it is unborn, eternal and undying, — we now proceed to explain somewhat more fully.
Let us suppose that four events, a, b, c, d, occur ; for instance, I look at these four figures successively, or touch this piece of paper four times, one after another. That there was know- ledge before the first of these events occurred, that other events occurred before it and that it is connected with them, the reader already knows. But we do not count those events as belonging to this series, and so have nothing to say of them. However, consciousness, let us suppose, which existed before the fiist of this series, knows this event, that is, it manifests itself as a sensation. Consciousness is necessary even for this first event. Then, for the second event to occur after the first, it is necessary that the knower of the first should also know the second and when knowing it remember the first. The firstness of the first and the secondness of the second both depend on this unity of conscious- ness and this recollection. Unless the first and the second were thus related, the first would not be first and the second second, for 'first,' 'second', &c., are all correlative terms. And their correla-
II CONSCIOUSKESS MAKES TIME 1 25
tion depends upon the unity of knowledge. Unless antecedent and sequent, first and second, were united in one consciousness — in one indivisible act of knowing — their antecedence and sequence, their firstness and secondness, would have no meaning. If, with the passing away of the first event, its knowledge too had passed away, had disappeared altogether, the firstness of the first and the secondness of the second would have been impossible. It is because the knower did not change or pass away with the event, but remain- ing unchanged connected the remembrance of the first event with the second, that the second- ness of the second became possible. Similarly, the occurrence of the third event also depends upon the same consciousness, and it is because the latter remained unchanged and connected the recollection of the first and the second event with the third, that its thirdness became possible. The same holds good of the fourth and the following events. The reader therefore sees that consciousness is the real maker of time or the chain of events. In the first place, the very possibility of an event depends on consciousness. In the second place, as events are in their very nature fugitive, occurring this moment and passing away in the next, time as a relation or
126 KNOWLEDGE AND TIME
events as a series would never be possible unless the recollection of such fugitive objects persisted in a conscious self. Unless it so persisted, re- lations like 'before' and 'after', 'now' and 'then' would not be possible at all. It is because the knowledge of 'before' persists, that 'after' be- comes possible. It is because the knowledge of 'now' does not pass away even when 'now' passes away, that 'then' becomes possible. It will thus be seen that knowledge is the support and cause of time. It is the relation of 'now' and 'then,' of 'before' and 'after,' of 'past' and 'present,' that we call time. But it is only con- sciousness— consciousness that persists and does not pass away — that can establish this relation. 'Before' and 'after' can be connected by that alone w^hich does not pass away with the lapse of events, which, in losing 'before' does not lose itself, which, even when the antecedent is past, keeps hold of its knowledge and connects it with the knowledge of the sequent. It is conscious- ness alone which can do all this ; consciousness therefore is the support of the relation, the maker of the chain, which we call time.
Now, it is evident from what we have already said that the maker of the chain of time, the cause and condition of the relation we call time.
n CONSCIOUSNESS ABOVE TIME 1 27
cannot itself be in time, — subject to time. Con- sciousness cannot be one of the things whose relation we call time. That without relation to which events cannot occur, whose persistence and unchangeableness is itself the cause and condition of changes taking place and forming a series, cannot itself come into being and pass away. What we call the birth, life, and death of a conscious being are events or series of events requiring consciousness. Consciousness being the cause and condition of these events, it must it- self be above birth, death and change. It is clear therefore that the Consciousness which forms the essence of our life, which manifests itself as the light and support of all that we know, which, taking the form of an infinite variety of sensations, and uniting them with its synthetic power, manifests itself as this wonder- ful world, which disappears in sleep and oblivion irrespectively of our individual volitions, and re-appearing in awakening and memory in the same involuntary way forms the web of our conscious life, which we mistake for and take pride in as merely our individual consciousness, but which is entirely independent of our individual volitions and the very root of our voluntary activity — this Consciousness, we say, is unborn,
128 KNOWLEDGE AND TIME
undying, eternal, without beginning and without end. That our individual lives have a beginning, is doubtless. But what does this beginning mean ? It means the beginning of a series of events, not the beginning of the consciousness forming the cause and support of this series. This con- sciousness existed before the beginning of this series. The events preceding this series, though not belonging to it, are necessarily connected with it, and the condition of this connection is the unity of consciousness. The preceding events are related to this series as its antecedents, and this relation would be impossible unless the consciousness forming the support of this series were identical with that forming the support of the other. It is evident therefore that this Consciousness is without beginning, eternal. That it is without end, undying, needs, we hope, no separate proof ; the truth will be evident if the line of argument given above be applied to it. Let the reader think how great a thing each one of us is holding in his bosom, — how great a thing is manifesting itself with everyone of our sensa- tions, thoughts, feelings and actions ! Let him think of this and wonder. He who is the support of the infinite variety of events which science speaks of, he who is the actor of that grand and
GOD IK MAN I2g
wonderful drama, is manifest here as the maker of this small drama of my life. He who held and whirled in his hand the fiery gas from which the present universe arose, who scattered un- numbered suns, planets and satellites in infinite space, who is bringing out millions over millior.s of cosmic phenomena through millions and millions of years, who is creating, preserving and destroying millions of living beings, who is lead- ing the world on through endless stages of pro- gress— it is that infinite Wisdom and Power which shines here as my consciousness — as the support of my life ! We need not say more. If the reader thoughtfully reads what we have said above, he will see that we indulge in no poetic fancy, that our words are not a baseless and passing outburst of sentiment, but that they are necessary truths from which no escape is possible.
Section 6 — The Omniscience of God
From the exposition given above of the truth that consciousness is the maker of the chain of time, the source of the stream of events consti- tuting the world, it follows clearly that God is omniscient. We have shewn that though events are passing, the knowledge of events does not
9
130 THE OMNISCIENCE OF GOD CHAP.
pass, but is permanent. As we have seen, events such as a, b, c, d, occur successively, but the knowledge of each of them persists, and uniting with the knowledge of the sequent makes it possible for us to know that it is the sequent. Though events pass away, their knowledge per- sists as a permanent property of the knower. Let the reader now understand clearly the dis- tinction of events and the knowledge of events. Events pass away, but the knowledge of events does not pass, but persists. Events indeed cannot happen without relation to consciousness, but the very nature of an event is that it is now, but the next moment is not ; one moment's event does not last the next moment, which comes with a fresh event. The stream of events is more rapid than even that of a most rapidly flowing river. The water of such a river does not stop more than a moment in a single spot. Even so is the stream of events, — events following events moment after moment. But the knowledge of events does not pass away. While the stream of events flows, their knowledge stands still as it were on the banks : it does not flow with them. Events are related to one another as antecedents and sequents. Between the first and the last event of a series there is always some
n KNOWLEDGE OF EVENTS NOT AN EVENT I31
distance of time ; but the knowledge of these events exists in the self as an indivisible fact. It indeed exists in the self as the knowledge of successive events, but there is no succession of events, no distance of time, in it. The events are successive, but there is no succession in the knowledge of successive events. In fact, unless the knowledge of successive events takes the form of an indivisible fact or act of knowing, it can- not be called a knowledge of events. It is therefore evident that though events are subject to time, the knowledge of events is not so, — it is not in time at all. And what is not subject to time, not in time at all, can never flow or pass away. It follows therefore that the knowledge of events, whether it is manifested or not in our individual lives, is imperishable, eternal. When it is manifested in individual life, we see that it is of a nature opposite to that of events, so that, even when it disappears from individual life, we do not suspect that it will perish. To flow, to pass, to perish, is not in its nature, — is opposed to its nature. We are going to show at some length how the knowledge of events known to us re-appears even after disappearing from our individual life, and thus proves that it is not an event or series of events, but some-
132 THE OMXISCIEXCE OF GOD CHAP.
thing timeless and imperishable. But perhaps the knowledge of many events does not appear more than once in individual life, and there is no certainty that the knowledge of those which have appeared a number of times will appear again. But the very nature of knowledge is such, it is so deeply stamped with permanence, that even if it has only once manifested itself, we know it to be imperishable. It is not indeed ever-present in our individual lives, but it cannot be doubted that it exists permanently in the one indivisible Consciousness which forms the cause and basis of our individual lives, which is infinitely larger than these lives, and in relation to which the knowledge of every event manifests itself. What piece of knowledge indeed remains permanently in our individual life ? We have shewn that the Consciousness which manifests itself as our life and knowledge, and which is in its nature a unity-in-difference^ is unborn, undying, and ever-wakeful. But in sound sleep, we everyday become entirely un- conscious. At that time, the eternal Conscious- ness ceases to manifest itself as our individual consciousness. But this disappearance on its part is not its destruction ; for it re-manifests itself as the light of our life after the hours of
II THE WITNESS OF MEMORY I33
sleep. In the same manner, the disappearance of particular pieces of knowledge is not their destruction. As the fundamental Consciousness remains imperishable and eternal, despite its occasional disappearance, so the particular pieces of knowledge related to and identical with it — the knowledge of particular events — remain imperishable in it despite their occasional dis- appearance from individual life.
That particular pieces of knowledge, the knowledge of particular events, though occasion- ally disappearing from our individual life, do exist permanently in the Consciousness which is the basis of our life, and re-appearing in our individual life, make our individual experience possible— this we shall prove and illustrate by a few examples.
Suppose I perceive the table before me, see it and touch it, and then going away from it, attend to other things and forget it. At another moment, let us suppose, I perceive it again, or without perceiving it, remember it somehow or other. Having perceived it, I recognize it as the table known before, or having remembered it, I see that it is the recollection of the same table that I perceived before. What makes this re- membrance possible ? If the consciousness of
134 THE OMNISCIENCE OF GOD CHAP.
objects were merely an event, a passing and perishable thing, if it were not a timeless, im- perishable thing, the object-consciousness that had once left the mind would never have returned to it. But in this fact of recollection we see that it is the old object-consciousness that has come back. Certain fresh events indeed take place in seeing and touching the table again ; but there is no doubt that what has returned is the old knowledge. Recollection is not possible without a union of the past and the present ; but past time has passed away for ever, and can never return. Past events are gone for ever, and it is fresh events that are taking place in the present. What, then, related to the past, comes back and makes recollection possible? It is the knowledge of the past — ^the knowledge of past events — which did not pass away, did not perish with the events— it is that timeless, imperishable knowledge that has re- appeared in the present and uniting the old and the new made recollection possible. Events in the form of sensations of colour, taste etc., that had happened when the table was first perceived, passed away immediately, and it is fresh events that are happening now. But if with the passing of those events the knowledge of them had also
II THE WITNESS OF MEMORY I35
perished, if that knowledge had not escaped the lapse of time and reappeared now, the knowledge of the similarity of the old and the new would not have been possible ; consequently there would not have been such a thing as recollection, and in the absence of a consciousness of the past, the knowledge that the new is new, would also have been impossible. The reader therefore sees that though the knowledge of the past sometimes leaves our fmite and forgetful mind, disappears from our individual life, it nevertheless re-appears in the form of recollection and declares its own imperishableness. On the one hand, we are forgetful, and are every now and then forgetting almost everything connected with our life ; but on the other hand, there is in us as the eternal support of our life, as our very consciousness, One who forgets nothing, and who brings back forgotten things to us when they are needed. If he did not re-manifest himself in us with the knowledge of the past, our life would be quite impossible. Life without memory is not life, — consciousness without remembrance is no consciousness. It is because the remembrance of him who forgets nothing is manifested in us, that our life becomes possible. It is because the knowledge of the All-knowing is manifested as our knowledge, that we know.
136 THE OMNISCIEN'CE OF GOD CHAP.
As from a contemplation of memory and oblivion it is seen that, though our individual finite mind is forgetful, the Supreme Self who is the support of our life, forgets nothing, and that our memory is the re-appearance of his knowledge in our mind, so from a contemplation of sleep and re-awaking it is seen that though our indivi- dual life is subject to sleep, the Supreme Self whose consciousness we share is ever-wakeful. In the state of sleep, all our knowledge rests in him, and his re-appearance at its end as our consciousness with that knowledge is our awak- ing. Sleep appears to be the destruction of all our knowledge — of self-consciousness as well as the consciousness of objects. What is sleep — sound sleep — unless one becomes wholly un- conscious ? This is scarcely a wrong description of sleep so far as our individual life is concerned. In fact our individual finite mind becomes un- conscious in that state, and knowledge entirely disappears from our individual life ; or else sound sleep would have no meaning. But if our individual life were all-in-all, if the ever- wakeful Supreme Self were not the support of our life, our very consciousness, there would be no difference between sound sleep and death, between re-awaking and re-birth. In that case,
f
THE EVER-WAKEFUL I 37
our sleep would be equivalent to death, and re-awaking to re-birth or fresh birth. If the disappearance of self-consciousness and object- consciousness in sound sleep were their real destruction, we should, at the termination of sleep, awake — or rather 'awaking' is not applicable here — be created as fresh beings. In that case there would be no identity between self- consciousness as before sleep with self-conscious- ness as after it and no consciousness of identity or similarity between objects perceived before sleep and those perceived after it. For a feeling of identity between the former and the latter self-consciousness, the former must not pass away but remain intact and re-appear along with the latter. If self-consciousness were to lapse, it could not come back, — its coming back would indeed be a meaningless expression. What would come or rise at a succeeding time would be a fresh thing. That the same thing is true of object-consciousness, has already been shown. The re-appearance, therefore, of our self-cons- ciousness and object-consciousness after sleep proves beyond a doubt that though in the hours of sound sleep they do not appear in our indi- vidual life, they are not then destroyed, but remain intact in the Supreme Self who is our
138 THE OMNISCIENCE OF GOD CHAP.
consciousness. When we are fast asleep, he re- mains wakeful and holds in his hand our entire conscious life, and at the termination of sleep re- manifests himself as our consciousness and there- by makes us re-awake. It is this which makes possible the identity of both our self-consciousness and object-consciousness, in fact our entire experience.
If the knowledge of events is eternal, it follows, besides, that the knowledge of those events which took place before the beginning of our individual life, existed and do exist eternally in the Supreme Self. The events to which history and tradition bear testimony, the endless variety which the different sciences discover, the far far off past of which science itself knows nothing, were and are doubtless objects of the Infinite and Eternal Mind. He who is the Maker of the chain of time, who unites all events by his eternal knowledge, cannot lose the smallest piece of knowledge, cannot forget even the most fugitive event. It is evident, therefore, that though the greater part of the universe is hidden from our individual consciousness, and though the part of it known disappears from it every now and then, it is ever-present as an object of the eternal knowledge of God.
II GOD S KNOWLEDGE OF THE FUTURE I39
Since, despite the transiency of events, the knowledge of events is timeless and permanent, another truth, already hinted at, is proved from the same fact. As the knowledge of events is timeless, it is evident that it not only lasts after events, but exists before the occurring of events. Though it appears with events, it is not born with them. Events are indeed its manifestations, but they are not its birth ; it exists before them. From the distinction we have already pointed out between events and the knowledge of events, it is evident that the latter not only cannot perish, but cannot be born. Its very nature being the very reverse of a flow, a succession, — the relation called time not at all entering into it, — it can neither come into nor pass out of existence. It follows, therefore, that all that has happened exist- ed before its happening in the eternal knowledge of God, and that all that will happen already exists in that knowledge. Sharing in a very small degree in the Eternal Consciousness, we know only so much of its nature and mode of mani- festation that an infinite series of events has happened in the past and an infinite series will happen in future. But we know very little what particular events have occurred in the past, and much less what will happen in the future.
140 THE MYSTERY OF CREATION CHAP.
But to him who is the source of events, the Maker of the chain of time, nothing can be un- known. The past and the future must be as clear to him as the present. Since nothing exists apart from him, since all events have happened, are happening and will happen in relation to him, all must be known to him. From the fixed unalterable laws which guide the actions of nature, science infers the nature of events that took place before the birth of sentient beings and the rise of sensations. It records the childhood and youth of the present world and makes sure predictions about its future. These laws are only the modes of God's self-manifestation, — the modes in which he reveals himself in the form of this variegated and wonderful world of sense. To him, therefore, neither the past, the present nor the future can be unknown. He is all-knowing, all-seeing, — ever shining in his own eternal light.
Section 7 — The Mystery of Creation
We said in the beginning of this chapter that we would prove the eternality of knowledge and thereby show the error of May^vada. The reader perhaps sees that error now. That theory emphasises only the aspect of oneness and eternal-
IT THE FINITE RELATIVE, KOT ILLUSORY I4I
ity in knowledge ; it does not see that there is a necessary duality in it and that an Eternal un- related to change is unmeaning. We have shown the error of the M4y4 theory by explaining these two truths. But we must admit that though we have shown the error of the May^ theory, we have not been able to explain the mystery of creation. It is indeed evident that the stream of creation, without beginning and without end, is flowing on in relation to a Supreme Being who is infmite, eternal, omniscient, all-com- prehending, and the life of the individual self, its finite knowledge and power being a reflection of his infinite knowledge and power. There can be no doubt that the world and the individual self are relative truths dependent on God, and are not illusions. But we cannot say that we clearly understand how change takes place in relation to the Unchanging and the finite exists in the Infinite. Creation is still a mystery to us and we doubt if man will ever be able fully to explain this mystery. We proceed to show what the mystery is. We have said that though the stream of events is ever-flowing, the knowledge of events exists eternally in the Supreme Self. Past, present and future all exist in his knowledge. What has happened was
142 THE MYSTERY OF CREATION CHAP.
known to him before it happened, and what will happen is already known to him. Now, the question is, If it be so, what is the meaning of happening, of events, of change ?
If everything is ever-present to God, what is the meaning of the past and the future ? What does time mean at all ? We have seen that an event means the appearance or disappearance of an idea, of a known object. But appearance and disappearance are impossible to the eternal Consciousness. To it everything is ever-present, ever-manifest. For appearance and disappea- rance, therefore, an individual self or a number of such selves is necessary. It is to such selves alone — in the conscious life of such selves — that the appearance and disappearance of the eternal ideas of the Divine mind is possible. Creation or change, then, comes to mean the origination of the individual self from the Supreme Self, the continuance of the stream of individual life in him and, if possible, its final merging in him. The whole process of creation — origination, preservation and dissolution — is the manifestation of the Universal Life in the individual, whether the individual be a man, or some being higher or lower than man. It was shown in the first chapter that in the world of space there is no
THE MYSTERY DEFIKED I43
such thing as an unconscious reality. In this chapter it has been shown that in the world of time also there is no such reality or any event which is the change of such a reality, — that every change is a change that relates to consciousness, to God, and that to suppose an independent material world and changes in such a world, is due to ignorance. It will now be seen that there is a sense in which the material world may be called illusory, as the Mayivadin calls it. But the M^y^v^din goes further. He says that there has really been no creation,- — that origination, preservation and dissolution, — all events, all changes, are illusory, imaginary. But we have shown that creation is not imaginary, that events form a series without beginning and end, and are a reality dependent on God. But is the meaning we have given to creation, namely that it is the manifestation of the Divine Life as the life of the individual, a perfectly intelligible one ? What is in him eternally, he manifests as the life of the individual — he, the ever-manifest, eternally revealed to himself, manifests himself partly in the stream of time — is not this a mystery ? How does he who is eternal manifest himself as the changing world and the changing life of the individual, remaining eternal all the same ? How
144 THE MYSTERY OF CREATION CHAP.
does he who is all-knowing appear as ignorant in the life of the individual ? There can be no doubt that he does so, and it is also true that an Eternal and Infinite unrelated to the changing and the finite is meaningless. Nevertheless, the Eternal becoming changeful and at the same time remaining eternal, the All-knowing becoming ignorant and at the same time remaining all- knowing, the Infinite becoming finite and at the same time remaining infinite — all this seems to involve a contradiction. This apparent contra- diction is the mystery of creation, and it is his failure to explain this mystery that leads the M^y^vadin to call creation illusory, due to ignorance, and to ascribe to God a power under the name of 'Miyl' as the cause of this ignorance. He calls it 'May^,' (an illusion-producing power) because it makes us mistake as real what is unreal. But the ascription of such a power to God does not in the least explain the mystery of creation. If error is real, so is the individual, the subject of error. If the individual were un- real, to whom would real error belong ? And if the individual is real, the power which produces or manifests it cannot be called May^ — a power of illusion. We thus see clearly the error of i\My^- vida. This theory deserves respect so far that
II REALITY OF THE INDIVIDUAL I45
it sees the mystery of creation — sees that creation is not perfectly intelligible. But its attempt to solve the mystery is a failure. Its conclusion — that creation is illusory, imaginary, — is evident- ly an error. However, that the individual is not illusory, not due to Maya, not merely vydvahdvika, conventional, — that it is paramarthika, real, and that the moral relation of God to man, God's love and holiness, are svarupa lakshanas, absolute attributes, and not merely tatastha lakshanas, relative attributes — all this we shall explain to the best of our power in our third and fourth chapters.
10
CHAPTER III
UNITY AND DIFFERENCE
Section i — the Unity and Infinitude of God
We have already tried to show that the Consciousness which supports the world is one and indivisible, and that the human conscious- ness is a reproduction of that Consciousness. We have also seen that there is an element of necessary difference in that indivisible Conscious- ness. However, we shall discuss this subject more particularly in this chapter.
We have seen in our first chapter that space is an affair of infinite addition, that it consists of infinite parts infinitely divisible and that the link uniting these parts is consciousness. It is because these parts exist together in the presence of an indivisible Consciousness that they are connected. In fact their connection means nothing more than their presence to such a Consciousness, This connection, which we call
SPACE ONE AND INFINITE I47
space, is one and infinite. Each of us perceives at a time only a small portion of space, and each perceives a distinct portion. But we know that there is more space, infinite space, beyond the portion which each one of us perceives. We have already seen that space is a necessary form of perception, that we cannot perceive, think or believe space as absent. Therefore, though our direct perception is confined to very small limits, we are sure that infinite space extends beyond these limits. Though infinitely divisible on the one hand, space, we know, is infinitely addible on the other. We cannot imagine any limit to space. That we cannot imagine any limit to space, is not merely a weakness of our minds, — space itself is an affair of infinite addi- tion. It means nothing more than such an affair. This matter is so simple and clear that we feel it is not necessary to say much upon it. The reader may, if he pleases, try to see if he can think space as having a limit. To think that space has a limit, one must suppose it as ending somewhere beyond which there is no space. But to suppose a 'beyond' is to think of space outside the fancied limit. It is impossible to think of a limit to space, — the idea itself being absurd and meaningless. Now, as it is necessary
THE UKITY AND IXFIXITUDE OF GOD
that space should be thought of as infinite, so it is necessary to think of it as one. As we have seen, space consists of the connection, the unity, of different parts, parts which, though distinct, are inseparable. No portion of space can be separated from any other portion. Two distinct parts of space may lie millions of miles apart from each other, but they are united by the intervening portions of space which are connected with them and with one another. Each of us indeed perceives different portions of space, but these portions are connected in the way already mentioned. All spaces are included in one in- finite space. In knowing this one infinite space we know the Infinite Consciousness in relation to which it exists — the same consciousness that we call our own. It is this consciousness which lies at the basis of this affair of infinite addition. The infinitude of space really means the infinitude of God, both being different aspects or expressions of the same truth. That time also is one and infinite, that the one and indivisible Cons- ciousness is the maker of this infinite chain of time, and that he is eternal and knows all time, past, present and future — we have explained at length in our last chapter, and nothing more need be said about it here. We hope now that
THE OXE IN THE MAN'V 149
the reader sees somewhat clearly the main argu- ment for the infinitude of God in relation to space and time, and for his unity and indivisibility. It will be seen that as, in order to understand the eternality of God, it is not necessary to know the innumerable events of infinite time, nay, not •even a large number of events, a comprehension of the nature of time and change being enough to give us an idea of the Timeless, the Eternal, to convince us that consciousness, the consciousness that consti- tutes our self, is eternal, so, in order to see that God is infinite and all-comprehending, it is not necess- ary to know everything in space, nay, not even a large number of things. To know the nature of space is to know the nature of the Spaceless, the Infinite. \Mien the relation of two portions of space is known, it is seen that the consciousness that connects the one with the other is spaceless,one, indivisible, infinite. The mind that knows two things to be different is in both of them indiffer- ently as their support. The difference is not without but within the mind. The unity is fundamental, primary, the difference secondary. He who knows both 'here' and 'there', is equally in both. He who knows both 'far' and 'near' is equally in both. In fact 'far' and 'near' are applicable only to the body, they are unmeaning
150 UMTY-IK-DIFFERENCE CHAP.
with reference to the self, 'far' and 'near' both existing in relation to the self. It will thus be seen that in knowing space, we know the knower, the support, of space as spaceless. In knowing the elements of difference, division, mediateness- and plurality existing in space, we know the consciousness that supports space — the same that we call our own consciousness — as one, in- divisible, immediate and one. These two aspects, or moments of knowledge are so closely related, that it is impossible to separate them. These two classes of truths — oneness and difference, unity and duality, divisibility and indivisibility, mediacy and immediacy, the one and the many, are so mixed up in knowledge, that it is in their union that knowledge is possible. Abstract one of them, and knowledge becomes impossible. Unity-in-difference is a fundamental and necessary characteristic of knowledge.
Section 2 — Unity-in-difference
It is doubtful if the above proof of the funda- mental unity of consciousness will be satisfactory to all. To it it will be naturally objected that we evidently see consciousness to be many in number. The self of each individual is distinct and apart from one another. Each of us knows,.
Ill THE UNDERLYING UNITY 151
understands and thinks separately. In the pre- sence of this apparent difference, is not the proof of the unity of consciousness only a metaphysical ingenuity ? How many times it has been admit- ted in the first chapter of this book that the sensorium of each of us is distinct. How is it asserted now that the same consciousness is the support and life of each individual ? Now, we proceed to answer this objection to the best of our power. There is indeed no doubt that each of us knows distinctly, that one's sensations are not the sensations of another, one's memory not the memory of another, and one's actions not the actions of another. It is not our purpose to deny this infinite difference in the world. To deny it is possible only to the extremely foolish or the blind. But we are going to show that there is a wonderful unity in the midst of this infinite diversity. The sensoriums and understandings of different people are indeed different, but not unconnected ; there is a wonder- ful connection, a wonderful unity, between them. The only explanation of this unity is that the same Consciousness lies at the root of all. If the individual selves were quite apart from one another, it is certain that they could not know one another, — that no connection between
152 UMTV-IK-DIFFEREN'CE CHAP.
self and self would be possible. But we find a wonderful unity among individual selves. They are connected by knowledge, feeling and action. If the consciousness of niy friend before me were not fundamentally the same as mine, I could by no means know that he is. In that case even the thought of his existence would not have risen in my mind. I should then have been shut up in the closed and solitary chamber of my life, and the states of my own mind would have been the only objects of my knowledge. But the fact is that I know him and that though my sensorium and understanding are different from his, a wonderful mental intercourse is going on between us. I not only know his existence, but am exchanging thoughts and feelings with him. I express my thoughts, and he knows and understands them. He gives out his own thoughts, and I know and understand them. An interchange of feelings, of love, esteem, sympathy &c., is proceeding between us. What makes all this possible ? The effort I make in uttering my words is my individual action. The sound I hear as the result of my effort is a sensation of my individual mind. The mind of my friend is not under the control of my will, and yet by some mysterious means sounds similar
ni EXPLANATION OF SPIRITUAL INTERCOURSE I53
to those I hear are produced in his mind, the meanings I understand are understood by him, and the feelings of pleasure or pain I experience are experienced by him. This connection bet- ween self and self, this exchange of thoughts and feelings between them, cannot have any other reasonable explanation than this that the same Consciousness lies at the root of the con- nected selves. The connection of different things implies something common in them. That my thoughts and feelings become the thoughts and feelings of another mind, can only mean that the underlying" Consciousness of both minds is the same. The same Spiritual Principle, it is evident, lies at the root of both lives, binds them together and makes them dance to the same tune. Either we must say that there is no •connection between different minds, each existing alone, confined to its own subjective states, that the wonderlully rich and varied spiritual rela- tions of the world are quite illusory, or we must admit that the same Infinite Consciousness under- lies all individual minds as the common source of their thoughts and feelings and makes these relations possible.
The more the reader thinks of these spiritual relations, the more will he wonder and the
154 UNITY-IN-DIFFERENCE
more will this grand faith be confirmed in him that underlying the innumerable diversities of the world there is a single undivided Conscious- ness which binds together all varieties, all space and all time. This spiritual relation is not confined to persons near one another ; it knows no distance of time and space. I share in the same thought that inspired the sage Emerson on the other side of the globe. His and my mental phenomena are indeed numerically different, and yet our thoughts are at bottom one ! The sentiment that thrills in the songs of the English poet Tennyson* touches my heart and makes it thrill with the same feeling. The union of my heart with his is undoubted. The same hymn of praise that transported the soul of the ancient sages of India, uplifts my soul too and knits me in spiritual communion with them. In the same way, the profound meditation of Buddha, the deep wisdom of Plato, the living faith of Jesus, and the enraptured love of Chaitanya draw my soul and bind me in a deep spiritual relationship to these great souls, far apart as they are from one another in time and space. Either these relations are imaginary and meaningless, or, if they are true in any sense, if they have any
* The poet was living when this was written.
Ill PRESENCE OF THE INFINITE IN UNIVERSAL TRUTHS I55
meaning, it is evident that an undivided, all- pervading Consciousness constituting the life of all rational beings is the only explanation, the only cause, of these relations.
Look at the other side of this truth, the one we have briefly shown in the first part of this chapter. On the one hand, I am only a small individual confined in time and space, my direct knowledge restricted to very small limits. I can perceive at a time only a very small portion of time and space, and the direct objects of my sensuous knowledge are only my individual sensations. But on the other hand I know infinite time and space. I do not indeed know all the particulars that fill infinite time and space, but in one sense, in a real sense, I know infinite time and space. The particular objects that occupy particular portions of space, the particular events that occur in particular times, are not indeed fully known to me ; they are not indeed manifested in my individual life ; but the universal truths relating to time and spece, truths that lie at the basis of all knowledge, truths that are self-evident and necessary, are clearly known to me. That space is one and infinite, that events form an infinite series, that past, present and future are knit
156 UXITY-IN-DIFFERENCE CHAP.
together in an indissoluble link, and that the unity of knowledge is the condition of all relations — these necessary truths are certainly known to me. These truths are the necessary forms of all knowledge. However different, therefore, knowledge may be with reference to particular matters, however various may be the forms assumed by knowledge in particular times and spaces in relation to particular objects, I know surely its general forms. And I know even more. I know to a large extent the various thoughts, feelings and volitions of different minds. Though restricted to small limits of time and space with reference to direct perception, 1 know many truths relating to very distant places and very ancient times. From this it is evident that there is in me a strange combination of the great and the small, the finite and the infinite, the individual and the universal. On the one hand, I am small, finite and individual ; but on the other hand there is in me something that is really very great, in fact nothing less than infinite and universal. It is because the Infinite exists in me as my Higher Self, my Supreme Self, that I can transcend my individuality, can know thruths beyond my individual life, can acquire necessary and universal truths, and can hold communion
in MAN NOT MERELY FINITE 157
with the Infinite. A merely finite being, a mere individual, far from knowing any other higher truths, cannot even know that he is finite and individual. But one who has known himself to be finite and individual, has, in knowing only this much, transcended his finitude and individuality. One who can go beyond onself, can know truths outside his individual life, can acquire universal truths, is not merely finite, merely individual ; the finite and the infinite, individuality and universality, are inseparably blended in him. As it is true on the one hand that we are finite and individual, so it is equally true on the other that the infinite, universal and all-knowing Being is the cause, support and light of our finite and in- dividual lives. Knowledge everywhere is charac- terised by this necessary unity and difference. Every individual self is lighted by the Infinite- Light.*
Section 3 — Dualism, Monism and the Doctrine OF Unity-in-difference
The reader must already have seen that the Theism we are trying to establish in this
* See Principal Caird's Introduction to the Philosophy of Religion : the latter portions of chaps. IV and V and portions of chap. VIII.
158 DUALISM, MONISM AND UNITY-IN-DIFFERENCE CHAP.
treatise is different both from current Dualism and current Monism. The Dualism which ima- gines God and man to be entirely apart from each other, is not real Theism, but only a species of Deism. When such a Dualism says that God is the support of the world and the life of man, it really contradicts itself. A God from which man and the world can exist apart, independently, cannot be their support. Such a Dualism is really opposed to deep worship and spiritual communion. If God is outside my self, how can he know and move my heart ? And how is it possible for me to see, hear and touch him, to have any deep relations with him ? Those among the Dualists who are not very thoughtful, may hold the truths about man's <ieeper relations to God as blind beliefs, and may be devoted to the culture of deep spiritual- ity. But it seems evident that the more thought- ful and subtle among them will often doubt these deeper truths and will evince no depth of communion and fervent love. On the other hand, current Monism too, which denies the element of necessary difference in knowledge, cannot be called true Theism. Such Monism declares God to be a subject without objects, an Eternal without relation to change, and an
Ill SPIRITUAL DEFECTS OF MONISM AND DUALISM I59
Infinite without relation to the finite. Blinded by Mayavada, it denies the reality of objects, changes and limits. But a subject apart from objects has no meaning. An unchangeable unrelated to change is meaningless. The Infinite ceases to have any sense if the reality of limits is denied. Objects, changes and limits are undoubtedly relative. They doubtless depend on the subject, the eternal and the infinite. But because they are relative, they do not cease to be true. They are relatively true. Current Monism, by denying their truth, makes its Absolute unmeaning. An Absolute without necessary relations with objects, changes and limits is no Absolute. By the Absolute we mean something great which supports objects, events and limits, and because it supports them, is distinct from them. The Monist's Absolute, therefore, which is without difference, is no Absolute. The only real Absolute is he who is at once one and different, who is a Subject eternally supporting objects, an Eternal •ceaselessly producing change and an Infinite €ver sustaining the finite. Objects, change and finite selves eternally exist in him as powers, properties or manifestations. Objects and events are real, though relative, to the Subject and the Eternal. That they eternally exist in the Subject
l6o DUALISM, MOXISM AND UN'ITY-IN-DIFFERENCE CHAP.
and the Eternal, that the knowledge of objects is ever-present to the Subject, and that events form an infinite series, we have already shown. We shall now speak a word or two on the real existence of finite knowledge in the Infinite. This consciousness I call my own, which is the essence of my life, is doubtless the manifestation of the Infinite Consciousness. But as, on the one hand, it is undoubted that it is a manifestation of the Infinite Consciousness, so, on the other hand, there is no doubt that it is finite, that it is only a partial reproduction of the Infinite. Its difference from the Infinite Consciousness is therefore as true as its unity with it. Its partial and finite character is real, and not imaginary or due to ignorance. It is not through error that I suppose my knowledge to be finite ; its finitude is real, undeniable. Though knowing and fully admitting my knowledge to be one with the infinite knowledge, I am obliged to say that it is only a part of that knowledge. That I, seated in this room, perceive only the objects contained in it and do not perceive those out of it, that my knowledge of various other things is limited, that I can do only a fixed number of things and cannot do many more, that I can love only a small number of persons and
REALITY OF LIMITS l6l
cannot love all, that the holiness I have acquired is imperfect, that my faults are numberless, — these are not fancies due to ignorance, but facts. To be brief — the existence of the finite is un- doubted. Besides, though this, my life, was manifested at a particular time, yet it is doubtless that it ever existed in the Eternal Mind. It follows therefore that the Infinite Consciousness, notwithstanding its perfection and indivisibility, eternally holds within itself the limitations and imperfections of the world. The Monist's Infinite, without difference and activity, is not the real Infinite. The real Infinite is he who is the support and cause of all that is finite and is yet beyond all limitations. That the existence of the finite in the Infinite is a mystery not quite intetligible, we have already seen. And we have also seen that to pronounce the finite to be illusory and to call the creative power of God by the name of Maya, is not a solution of the mystery. According to the Mayavadin, the individuality and finitude of man is only apparent \' vydvahdrika ) and not real {pdvamdrthika),— it is only from the standpoint of ignorance that it seems real ; it is not real from the standpoint of knowledge, from which the Infinite and Absolute, without any
II
l62 DUALISM, MONISM AND UNITY-IN-DIFFERENCE CHAP.
difference, is alone real. We have alread}' shown the error of this view ; but a few more ^vords on the subject may make it somewhat clearer. The Mayavadin says the idea of individuality (jiva- bhdva) is due to ignorance. Now, we ask— whose ignorance? There can be no ignorance in the Absolute, who is all knowledge. But ignorance surely exists; therefore, the finite individual, the subject of ignorance, exists too. That ignorance is iiegative, privative, admits of no doubt. But as; its existence as a want, as an imperfection, is doubtless, and as there can be no. ^ivant or imper- fection in the Infinite arid Perfect Being, there can be no doubt of the existence — existence in relation indeed to the Perfect — of the individual as the subject of ignorance, of imperfection. Therefore, though unable to explain the mystery of creation, to explain clearly how- the finite exists in the Infinite in unity and difference, we arrive at this undoubted conclusion that the existence of the individual is not merely apparent, not due to ignorance, but is real. The individual is real, not merely phenomenally real, but truly real, — real in relation to the Absolute. As ignorance, as a privation, a negation, confirms this inference, so love and holiness, as perfections, as positive virtues^ confirm the same inference.
Uh . ., ,;.;;TH;z;.. WITNESS OF LOVE 163
Love and holiness imply relation and thus differ- ence. One person loves another, and is just to another. As there are love and holiness in the world, it is not absolutely monistic, — there must necessarily exist; differences in it. Those who acknowledge ■ the. reality of love and holiness, must- see in them irrefutable proofs of the doctrine of unjty-in-difference. They v^all see that in all tlie loving relations of father and son, husband and vv^ife ■ &c., unity and difference are both implied. Similarly, in truth, justice, obedience, and such other .ethical relations, they will see the same unitj'-in-difference. The Monist may attribute these relations to ignorance, but he will find ignorance itself inexplicable by his theory. That ignorance is a sure proof of difference, we have already^ seen. -The real ultimate truth therefore is neither Dualism nor Monism, but Unity-in- difference.
We have nov,- to see tliat the spiritual dangers seen in Monism are not to be found in the doctrine taught by us. The finite self, feeling its own want of wisdom, love and holiness, anj:! knowing the all-knowing, all-loving and. all- holy Supreme Self to be present within it as its life and support,, will ever worship him with love, prav toi-.him for wisdom, love and holiness
164 DUALISM, MONISM AND UNITY-IN-DIFFERENCE CHAP,
and strive after deeper and deeper spiritual union with him day by day. There are two condi- tions of worship and spiritual life. The first of them is that the object of worship must be in the inmost heart of the worshipper, that there must be an inseparable connection between the two, — that the worshipper must be entirely dependent on the object of worship. The second condition is that there must be a clear difference between the worshipper and the object of worship, — that the latter must be infinitely greater than the former. Current Dualism is opposed to the first of these conditions. When the worshipper says to the object of worship, "Thou art my life, my inmost self, I cannot live a moment without thee, I am nothing apart from thee," current Dualism opposes this deep flow of devotion and says, "Why so ? I am indeed made by God, but I am independent of him, apart from him. To say that man cannot live a moment without God is to deny man's freedom." Similarly, whenever any high truth implying the inseparable relation of God and man is uttered, whenever man's love, holiness and power are explained as reflections of God's love, holi- ness and power, current Dualism smells Monism in such explanations, protests against them
Ill CONDITIONS OF TRUE WORSHIP 165
and thus keeps aloof from higher faith and spiritual exercises. On the other hand, current Monism is against the second condition. When- ever the worshipper, feeling his own littleness and the greatness of the object of his worship, approaches at the feet of the latter, reverently praises his infinite perfections, and bowing down in humility says, " I am the eye and thou the light, I am unloving, but thou art loving, I am sinful, but thou art holy, save me from my blind- ness and from my sins, and make me one of thy humblest servants," current Monism, unable, on account of its blindness to the difference between the finite and the Infinite, to solve the mystery of this sweet Dualism, sees only ignorance and senti- m.entalism in it. It says, "All is Brahman, — who worships whom?" It is only the Idealism that sees both the elements of unity and difference in knowledge which constitutes the true basis of deep spiritual life. It sees the object of wor- ship in the worshipper and the worshipper in the object of worship ; the teacher in the disciple and the disciple in the teacher ; the devotee in the Lord and the Lord in the devotee. The object of worship, the Lord with infinite perfec- tions, is himself the life of the worshipper. Faith, love, humility, ardour, — all the constituents of
l66 DUALISM, MONISM AKD UKITY-IN-OIFFEREN'CE CHAP.
worsbip-^are infused by him into the heart of the worshipper, who cannot advance a step in the path of v/orship without his inspiration. It is therefore evident that he who is worshipped is the main cause of worship and that his activity is its necessary condition. But on the other hand, true worship is not possible without difference. Worship arises from the union and relation of the perfect and the imperfect ; though, therefore, ^ the worshipper lives in the vvorshipped, and- is inspired by him, the one is distinct from the other. The aspirations and activity of the wor- shipper, though derived from and sustained by the worshipped, are yet different from and in this sense independent of him. In the act of worship, unity and difference are wonderfully blended. Neither pure Dualism nor pure Monism can afford a true basis of worship. The doctrine of unity-in-difference alone affords a rational basis of worship. Looked at either as theories or as systems of spiritual culture, Dualism and Monism are both only one-sided and not absolute truths. The absolute truth is their harmony in the doctrine of unity-in-difference. True religion is like the shield of Avantinagar in
Ill
/
CONDITIONS OF TRUE WORSHIP 167
the story : one side of it is monistic and the other dualistic*
T0315?31Mf 3
* The story refefi-ed' to' 'is as follows: A'shieidV'bf which one side was made of gold and the other of silver, hung from the palace-gate of the ancient city of Avanti- nagar. Two horsemen approaching it from opposite direc- tions admired, one its golden, the other its silvery, brilliance, utterly ignorant of its dual character. Having differed, they came to high words, and ultimately to blows. They wete separated and reconciled by a third person who showed them both sides of the shield.
CHAPTER IV THE PERFECT AND THE IMPERFECT
Section i — The Divine Love and Holiness
We have now finished the exposition, so far as our limited powers allowed, and so far as was possible in the scope of this little book, of what are called in the language of Western Theology the metaphysical attributes of God. We have seen that he is the true — the cause and support of all things ; that he is intelligence, all-knowing, the ruler and searcher of all hearts ; that he is infinite, — the support of all space and time ; and that he is one, without a second, and yet with an element of necessary difference in him. We shall now say something on the moral attributes of God, that is, on his perfect love and holiness. But our discussion of these attri- butes will not be as long as we could wish it to be. For, a full discussion of the subject pre- supposes one on the foundation of morals. But
IV THE SAME METHOD HERE AS ELSEWHERE l6g
discussion on the foundation of morals forms no part of the scheme of this little book.* With- out entering into such a discussion, and having regard to the limited scope of this book, we proceed to a brief treatment of the subject. To those who, notwithstanding differences as to the way in which we arrive at ethical truths, hold the common view that morality is a real thing, that duty is not a mere pursuit of pleasure, but something higher, that the distinction of right and wrong is a real distinction,— to them, we hope, our treatment of the subject will give some satisfaction. The method we have adopted in our previous chapters in coming to truths about the nature of God, will be adopted in this chapter also. Whether we deal with the meta- physical or the moral attributes of God, the light of self-knowledge is the brightest manifestation of the light of God. As we obtain the clearest evidence of God as the true, the intelligent and the infinite, in our soul, so in the soul is to be found the clearest evidence of his perfect goodness and holiness. Those theologians who, instead of looking within, seek for evidences of the Divine goodness and holiness in the
* On this subject see the author's Philosophy of Brdh- moism, Lecture vii : Conscience and the Moral Law.
170 THE DIVINE LOVE AN'D HOLIKESS CHAP.
events of the external world, are only shallow thinkers, and their efforts necessarily come to nought. It is impossible to prove the perfect love and holiness of God exclusively from such data. The iriference on the Divine love and holiness drawn from the happiness and order- found in the world will surely be shaken by instances, not rare in the world, of unhappiness, imperfection and disorder. The faith in the Divine goodness that remains un- shaken <^ven in the midst of the greatest trials, is not based on any external evidence : it is due to light within. Let us see what this internal evidence is. Notwithstanding all my unloving and sinful acts, there is something in me which is always loving and holy. It is because it always remains loving and holy that 1 characterise my and other people's unloving and holy acts as such. It is the judge of all that is loving and unloving, all that is holy and unholy. It is this Which calls men loving or unloving, holy or unholy, and it is this which compels us to believe in an all-lov- ing and all-holy Person. This faith is inherent in the nature of the self, because its own nature consists of unalloyed love and holiness. In fact it is the direct manifestation of the Perfect Being. It is this which is called' " conscience " or " the
IV THE HIGHER SELF IN MAN I7I
voice of God." This all-loving and all-holy Consciousness exists in every man as his Higher Self. Ethical truths such as "Truth is to be followed and untruth to be avoided," "Truth is beautiful and great and untruth ugly and mean" ; " Justice is to be followed and injustice avoided," " Love is heavenly and hate hellish, — there is an impassable difference between love and hate," "Unselfishness is infinitely superior to selfishness; there is an infinite gulf between holy thoughts, holy looks, holy words and holy acts on the one hand and unholy thoughts, unholy looks, unholy words and unholy acts on the other" — truths like these, we say, are revealed to us as essential features in the character of our Higher Self. They do not appear to us as mere abstract principles. The Eternal Consciousness lying at the basis of our life manifests himself as the living embodiment of these principles and makes us understand clearly that he is infinitely superior to our lower self, subject to animal passions and impulses, and makes us feel without a doubt that the lower self is to be sacrificed to him, as he alone is our rightful king, -When principles like the above are revealed to us and conquers, if only for a moment, our lower self, when our thoughts, feelings and desires become perfectly holy, when
172 THE DIVINE LOVE AND HOLINESS CHAP.
not a tinge of unlovingness and unholiness re- mains in our hearts, when the soul is full of the sweet perfume of holiness, and the heart, full of love, embraces the whole world, when love and holiness are to us things no more outward, but wholly inward, the breath, the very flesh and blood, of our soul, — in such rare moments, the direct object of our knowledge is not merely an abstract ideal, but a perfectly loving and holy Person. Charmed with the transcendent beauty of this Supreme Person, the worshipper exclaims, —
" Who art thou, standing in the garden of my heart ?
Many beautiful forms have I seen, but not such a form as this."* At such a moment, the distinction of the finite and the Infinite is not indeed obliterated ; the metaphysical perfections of God do not indeed come down to man and make him omniscient and omnipotent ; neither are those innumerable kind and holy acts revealed to us which proceed out of the infinite power and wisdom of God ; but the main features of his moral perfection are really revealed to us. It may be said that at such times we are aware only of a particular
* Brahmasangit : Hymn No. 493 in the 9th edition published by the Sadharan Brahmo Samaj.
IV WITNESS OF CONSCIENCE 1 73
State of our soul. But in fact, as there is no such thing as " a mere sensation " or " a mere idea," but the total concrete reality is a self with a sensation or an idea, so there is no such thing as a mere state, a mere state of perfect love and holiness. What we know at such moments is not a mere state, but a living Self — a Person of perfect love and holiness. It is true that we are not always conscious of the presence of this perfect Person, — that we are often deprived of his light and are consequently led to delusion and sin by the promptings of low desires. But this does not affect in the least the perfect love and holiness of God. As the image of nature, even when absent from our knowledge, exists for ever in the Eternal Consciousness which con- stitutes our life ; as our self-consciousness, even when disappearing in deep sleep, remains intact in the eternal, ever-waking Consciousness, so, perfect love and holiness, when disap- pearing from our individual heart and will after their momentary manifestation to us, exists permanently in the eternal Person who is our life, and revealing themselves to us at times, judges every thought, feeling, look, word and act that proceed from us and thus leads us on and on in the path of love and holiness.
174 THE DIVIKE LOVE AND HOLINESS CHAP.
Wherever there is moral struggle, in what- ever soul the seed of ethical life has germinated, be it in the smallest degree, there is manifested this higher self, more or less. Not that every one can recognise this higher self as the direct manifestation of the Perfect Being. As many cannot recognise the light of the self as the direct manifestation of the Divine light, so there are many who cannot recognise this light of conscience as the direct manifestation of the perfect Light of Holmess. Though revealed as conscience, he remains unknown to many. But whether known or unknown, it is his manifesta- tion that makes ethical life possible. It is from the mutual opposition of the higher self and the lower, from the • conflict of conscience with impulse — that ethical struggle rises. A soul is not inconceivable — perhaps there may be such a class of men — in which ethical struggle has not yet had the smallest beginning,- a man who has come up to the human stage so far as his body is concerned, but who is entirely subject to his lower desires, who remains practically in thestage of a brute. The absence of conscience in such a person does not any way make conscience the less real. It is in the ethical life that conscience is manifested, and there alone is its light neces-
iV CONSCIENCE OMNIPRESENT 1 75
sary. It exists in all ^Mho belong to the ethical world, be they virtuous, or yjcious, wise. or foolish, civilised or uncivilised. -In calmer: mQments, when the eye of conscience is not dimmed by the excitement of. brutal, passions, at such a time, if even a most degraded sinner is asked, "Which is better, love or hate? virtue or vice? If you get without oppressing others, without com- mitting sin, all for which you oppress others, — ^food, clothing, pleasure, fame, honour, power &£.,-'— will you persist , in, sinning ?" he will say without hesitation^-'':IvPve ; and virtue indeed are superior to hate and vice ; if I get w'ithout oppression, without sin^ ail that I desire, I shall desist from my sinful life." This natural respect for and leaning towards love and holiness exists in every man. It is not indeed equally deep in all. Its depth varies according to varia;tionS: in education, civilisation and culture. But a general ideal of perfect love and holi- ness exists in all m.ore or less. The more brightly it exists in a man, the greater is his respon- sibility and the more strenuous is the struggle of virtue and vice in him. , ..However, it is this manifestation of Gocjjj int^ith^t^soul which is the clearest evidence of his fperfiect love; and holinqssi He says clearly in the soul, ''1 ajm.i perfectly
176 THE DIVINE LOVE AND HOLINESS CHAP.
loving, perfectly holy." This clear voice of him in the soul makes us sure of his nature. Not that we never doubt this voice ; we do some- times have doubts. But such a doubt is suicidal, it kills itself. We proceed to show how it does so.
Certain seemingly harmful and seemingly unjust actions in the world make us sometimes doubt the perfect love and holiness of God. What we perceive are mere actions ; we have no direct knowledge of their moral quality, — whether they proceed from love or hate, virtue or vice. And it is impossible to have such know- ledge. W^e are directly aware only of our own motives ; the motives of other minds cannot be direct objects of our knowledge. But as actions similar to the natural actions referred to are often seen to proceed from hate and wicked- ness when done by man, we are led to think, on a superficial view, that God, the doer of these actions in nature, is unloving and unjust. But if, when such doubts occur to us, we look at the light of God within, we at once see their absurdity. It is only God's actions, not his feelings and desires, that appear in nature. The latter are manifest only in our souls. In the soul he manifests himself as the embodiment of per-
IV DOUBT OF DIVINE PERFECTION ABSURD 177
feet love and holiness. Here his moral perfection is an object, not of inference, but of direct perception. Therefore, the doubt that he is unloving and unholy in the world, is vitiated by the contradiction that God is perfectly loving and not perfectly loving, perfectly holy and not perfectly holy. So it is evidently suicidal. With- out, we see only a number of his actions, we do not see his feelings and desires. But within, he manifests himself as perfectly loving and per- fectly holy. Therefore, though the actions are enigmatical, — their exact purpose unintelligible — there can be no doubt that they do not proceed from any absence of love or holiness.
But suppose that what we have interpreted as the direct manifestation of God in the soul is not accepted as such and is explained only as his action, and the love and holiness in man's heart is represented only as his own ideal of per- fection. Now, even if such an interpretation of the facts be accepted — an interpretation which we consider as inadequate — the doubt referred to, the doubt of God's perfect love and holiness, may be shown to be absurd. Such a doubt really suggests that God has created a being, that is man, who is higher than himself, — has given to his creature what is not in himself. It really says 12
178 THE DIVINE LOVE AND HOLINESS CHAP.
that not only are such saints and philanthropists as Buddha and Jesus higher than God, but even worms like ourselves sometimes rise higher than he, for we too sometimes feel inclined to embrace the whole world, we too are sometimes charmed with the beauty of holi- ness, and when we do so, we are really filled with pure love and holiness. And this doubt also says that God, though partly unloving and un- holy, has made man so that he loves perfect love and holiness and hates hatred and unholi- ness ; in other words, the Father has made the soil so that the more he grows up the more will he hate and abuse the Father and the more will he incline towards that (that is, perfect love and holiness) which the Father does not like, and at last fully rebelling against him, strive after the establishment of that kingdom of love and righteousness which he is supposed to hate. What an idea ! It makes the Divine Father a greater fool than the most foolish of human fathers, for even a human father never teaches his son to hate and rebel against him.
It will thus be seen how very groundless are the doubts about God's perfect love and holiness, and how shallow and superficial are those writers who fill their books with such worthless
iV CONFIRMATION 1-ROM THE ORDER OF NATURE 179
doubts and are admired as deep philosophers by their thoughtless readers. The sceptic sits in judgment over God because he cannot explain certain enigmatical events in nature. He does not see that the ideal of love and holiness in his soul which leads him to judge God, is revealed by God himself. The love and holiness on which he takes his stand in criticising God, in setting him down as unloving and unjust, are the clearest proofs of the Divine love and holiness and the strongest refutation of his erroneous conclusion, for they prove that it is not want of love and holiness, but something else, from which such actions proceed.
This argument from conscience is the main proof of God's perfect love and holiness.* The order and innumerable beneficent adaptations in nature confirm this proof in a thousand ways. With the help of these adaptations man is continu- ally advancing towards greater and greater com- fort and happiness and rising higher and higher in the scale of moral excellence. We are not going to describe these beneficent designs in detail. They fill man's inner and outer life,
* On this subject, see Dr. James Martineau's Study of Religion, Bk. II, Chap. II, and Green's Prolegomena to Ethics, Bk. Ill, Chap. II.
i8o god's love to individuals chap.
— the home, the village, the town, the field, the river, the hill and the ocean. All sciences loudly proclaim the beneficence of nature. In the world, the good is the rule, — it is the good that is progressive. Painful and enigmatical events are transient and vanishing. With such events we shall deal in some detail at the end of the present chapter.
Section 2 — God's Love to Individuals
God's love to man seems at first sight to be only general. It seems, on a superficial view, that he takes care of man only in a general way and that every man individually is not the object of his love. But on a somewhat closer view a speciality is found underlying this generality. When we contemplate somewhat deeply the love of God, it is found that as he exists as the life of every soul, as the Inner Ruler and Searcher of every heart, so he is the Father, Mother, Friend, Teacher, Guide, Saviour, and Lord of every person. Every human heart has a deep and sweet relation with him, and this relation is becoming gradually deeper and sweeter. We insert here a portion of a sermon preached by the present writer in the Mandir of the Sadharan Brahmo Samaj on the love of God to
IV GOD S DIRECT DEALINGS WITH EVERY MAN lOI
individuals. The first few words of this extract have been said once or twice before in this book, but a repetition of them here will not perhaps be unpleasant.
"When we look at the relation of God and man in the light of self-consciousness, this truth becomes very clear, and our faith in it becomes gradually brighter. It is needless to say that in order to understand this relation, deep thought and meditation are necessary. To those who neglect this knowledge as only dry philosophical doctrine, and not seeing its necessary relation to higher spiritual life, are indifferent to its culture, the higher truths about the love of God and his constant activity always remain dim and covered with doubts and appear like dreams. But when the deep and constant relation of God with the soul is realised by deep meditation, the truth of his incomparable love grows bright. What does self-consciousness show us ? It shows that my life rests in God in all conditions, — in waking, oblivion, dream and sleep. In no state of my life, not for a single moment, am I under any blind force. At all times, in all states, I live in him. And I have no power which is not derived from him, which does not rest in him. This imajre of the congregation before me is
l82
GOD S LOVE TO INDIVIDUALS CHAP,
painted by God himself on my mind, — this per- ception is entirely a spiritual phenomenon. It is not the body that sees, and a material object cannot make one see. It is the soul that sees, and it is the soul that shows ; seeing is a state of the soul. Thus it is seen that, seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting and touching are all spiritual phenomena, — the contact of soul with soul. And it is only he who is within the soul, in whose hand the soul is, to whom the soul is as a play- thing, that can produce these phenomena. Again, when we look at our life from another side, when we see that we are extremely forgetful, but at the same time memory is ever active in us, that though we are forgetful, our life goes on quite smoothly without any difficulty, we are surprised to see the deep relation of God with the soul. This very moment, when we are think- ing of God in this Mandir, how many things of our life we have forgotten ! Now we have lost, so to say, the whole of our past life. But as we are speaking, things lost or forgotten are coming back to the mind. When we re-enter the world,, everything will occur to the mind again in time. Thus we are forgetting things every now and then and remembering them again. Where do the events of our past life go when we forget
IV WITNESS OF MEMORY AND RE-WAKING 183
them, and where do they come from again ? And who brings them back ? When we think of these things, we feel extremely surprised. How near my soul is he, — how closely related is my soul to that all-seeing and ever-waking Spirit who holds these things in him and returns them to me ! The soul is really a plaything to him. Again, when we sleep and become unconscious, utterly inert and inactive, and lose knowledge, memory, understanding, power, everything, in whom does the soul then live ? In that helpless state, who preserves the lost things of life ? And who wakes us in time and gives us back the lost contents of life ? Not awaking would be quite possible ; why then do we awake ? And who wakes us ? And even when awakened, we might not get back those things. In that case our life would be reduced to the state of an infant. Who carefully gives them back and resumes the solemn play of life ? It is he, — that sleepless, ever-waking Person, — who is the con- stant support of the soul, and of whom the soul is a plaything. Thus we see that every soul is deeply and directly related to the Supreme Being. Whatever elements are required for the sustenance and advancement of our life, he gives directly to every soul. Knowledge, feeling and power, of
184 god's love to individuals chap.
which our life consists, are not under our own control. He directly gives these to us and thus keeps us alive. Every soul, every human life, is a field of his incessant activity. What we call the world is an aggregate of such fields.
" When we look at the face of God in the light of this blessed knowledge revealed in the soul, we are charmed and struck dumb with awe. We then see that the general providence of God is a mere meaningless phrase. To say that God loves us in a general way, is to ascribe human imperfection to him. Or if general providence has any meaning, that meaning is that the aggregate of special providences or dispensations may in a sense be called general providence. It is indeed true that God works by general laws. But this does not make our individual relation to him general. He works by general laws, but the fields of his activity are particular. He deals specially and ceaselessly with individual souls. From morning to evening, and from evening to another morning, all day and night his loving activity goes on in our hearts and in our lives. It is he who wakes all, calls the heart to utter his name and sing his praise at the break of day, takes us out to enjoy the cool morning breeze, bathes us in cool water,
IV THE BESETTING GOD 185
the direct manifestation of his love, and makes us take our food, the direct embodiment of his grace. Is it mere poetry to say that he makes us eat? Is the truth merely this, that I eat? Certainly not. I could not see my food unless he showed it to me as the eye of my eyes. Not a particle of the food could exist unless he sup- ported it. And unless he infused strength into my body moment by moment, my eating and drinking and all other acts would be impossible. In what are merely physical or human acts to the eye of the shallow and the unbelieving, where the shallow see only the cook or the members of their families or only a number of material things, the closely observing believer sees the living presence of God and is overwhelmed with feeling. It is thus that God sustains and nurses us. He himself exists in the body, digests our food, circulates our blood and performs all other functions of the body. Present in our field of work, he infuses strength into our body and mind and makes us work. Ever related to the body and the mind, he accompanies us wherever we go and saves us from the innumerable dangers that beset our daily life. It is he who gives us rest and peace when our labours are at an end. It is he who, when we study,
iS6
GOD S LOVE TO INDIVIDUALS CHAP.
makes us see as the eye of our eyes, and imparts to us the light of knowledge through our reason and understanding. It is he who calls us to worship, makes us join our hands and close our eyes, composes our thoughts, reveals himself to the soul as truth, love and holiness, refreshes our heart with love and peace, and braces the soul with the strength of holiness. It is he who, as our conscience, gives commandments to the soul, saves it from sin, leads it to virtuous acts, and holding before it higher and higher ideals of spiritual life, allures it to heaven. It is he who leads us to the virtuous and the pious, makes us hear their sweet words as the ear of our ears, enables our mind to understand them, and impresses them on our hearts. Bridg- ing over great distances of time and space, he leads us to the assembly of the ancient Aryan sages and makes us listen to their deep teachings, shows us the figure of the Buddha in profound meditation under the Bodhi-tree, makes us hear the blessed words of Jesus seated on the mountains of Canaan, leads us to Calvary and shows us that touching and wonderful scene of self-sacrifice, and taking us to old Nadia, makes us dance in the excitement of love with the love-maddened devotees assembled there.
IV THE DIVIN'E LOVE OVERWHELMING 187
Thus taking us into the company of innumerable devotees, thinkers and workers, old and new, he shows the soul the beauties of heaven and leads it to salvation. If I multiply my activity for myself millions of times, it will not equal his activity for me. Where then is that generality of providence that we hear of? Everything about it is special. The whole of my life, I see, is a field of his special providence. I lie steeped in the ocean of his special love. Whatever I see, hear, gain, enjoy or suffer,— all are waves of this ocean of special love. The sun, the moon, water, air, the earth, 1113' house, my family, my friends, society, good books, good men, knowledge, love, peace, holiness, all are waves of that love. I lie floating on that ocean ; his love is endless, boundless, unspeakable. It is because I cannot realise his love fully that I am able to live ; a full realisation would be too much for the feelings and unbearable to the heart. When I realise it a little, when I see how wicked I am, how base and ungrateful, how very indifferent to him, and how very busy with the worthless things of the world, while on the other hand, he is heaping mercies on my head, and plunging me in an ocean of love which cannot be paid back, my heart swells up,
THE MYSTERY OF EVIL
and seems bursting. Then I sing quite heart-
ily-
'The weight of thy love
I can bear no more ; My heart cries out and bursts
when I see thy love ; I take refuge in thy fearless feet'* "When shall I know his love, feel it deeply, be loving, and never know dryness ! When will it be that, —
'Maddened by love I shall laugh and cry, Shall float in the ocean of divine bliss, Shall madden others with my madness. And shall disport for ever under the
feet of God! 't May the Merciful soon bring such a happy day !"
Section 3 — The Mystery of Evil
We have set forth to the best of our power the proof of God's perfect love and holiness. It is now time for us to speak of certain enig- matical events in nature which seem to conflict with the divine perfection. The subject is a very
* Hymn. No. 322 in Brahniasangit : Ninth Edition, pubhshed by the Sadharan Brahmo Samaj. t Hymn No. 703 in the same collection.
THE REAL FOUN'DATIOK OF FAITH lOg
difficult one, and for its very difficulty demands a lengthy discussion. But it does not fall with- in the scope of this book to discuss the subject fully.* We shall say only a few words briefly on the subject.
The first remark that we have to make is that for establishing our faith on a firm ground a discussion of such events is not absolutely necessary. The real foundation of faith is internal evidence. So long as man does not clearly see the nature of this evidence, he remains busy with the discussion of external events. Not that when this evidence becomes clear such a dis- cussion becomes quite unnecessary ; but in that case, faith, resignation, hope and peace no more depend on such discussions. Where the intellect fails to understand, the soul rests on the bright light of reason within and hopes that with the pro- gress of knowledge the unintelligible will become intelligible. A few years of friendship and mu- tual respect make us trust a human friend so much, that even when we see him doing a number of enigmatical and seemingly wrong actions, we do not at once set them down as
* See Dr. Martineau's excellent treatment of this subject in his Study of Religion Bk. II, Chap. III. See also Hedge's Reason in Religion : "The Old Enigma."
igO THE MYSTERY OF EVIL CHAP.
such, but believe that in time we shall see the reasonableness of such actions. We naturally accuse a man of extreme suspiciousness and meanness of heart in whom we do not see such trust. If such confidence is reasonable in regard to a puny and imperfect human friend, how much more reasonable it is in regard to our greatest Friend, the Supreme Being. It is impossible that with the particle of knowledge given to us we should penetrate into the meaning of all the acts of the Infinite. Therefore, even if we fail to give a reasonable explanation of the seeming €vils of the world, our intuitive faith in God's goodness remains unshaken.
Our second remark on the subject is that the explanation which some sceptics offer of the enigma is quite unacceptable. They think that the evils of the world are due to the fact that God has not been able to bring entirely under his control the original uncreated matter which forms the substance of the world. We have shown in the proper place that what we call matter is entirely dependent on mind, so that there is no meaning in God's bringing it under his control. We have also shown that it is only consciousness that can have efficiency, — that efficiency and consciousness are inseparable, so
SEEMING EVILS igi
that an unconscious object opposing God is also meaningless. Thirdly, we have also shown that there can be no power in the universe except an infinite and indivisible Mind, and that all finite powers are reproductions of this infinite Power.
Our third remark is that many events in nature which seem to be evils are only blessings in disguise. With the progress of human know- ledge many events and things that formerly seemed to be harmful have been proved to be beneficial. The effect of storms and fires in purifying the air, the beneficence of famines and epidemics in checking over-population and pro- moting sympathy and benevolence, the various usefulness of many poisonous animals and plants, and the wonderful power for good possessed by the apparently dreadful lightning, are no longer unknown to any one. That the troubles and trials of life chasten and soften the heart, bring experience and foresight to the understanding and strength to the will, is known to every thoughtful person. If we had space enough, we might have dwelt long on the subject. It is to be hoped that with the gradual advancement of human knowledge the real nature of many other things now seeming to be evils will be revealed.
ig2 THE MYSTERY OF EVIL CHAP.
Our fourth remark is that the process of creation is not yet at an end. The world is not a completed thing ; its creation is still going on and it has not yet reached perfection. Science proves that the visible world has, from the state of a fiery gas, become gradually cool, hard and suitable for the habitation of living beings, and that its suitableness is continually increasing. Natural cataclysms are becoming fewer and fewer and with the gradual increase of man's power and knowledge many means have been discovered for protecting him from such cataclysms. The world is going on from im- perfection to perfection. The divine purpose in regard to the world is not yet fully revealed, but is being gradually revealed. It is unavoid- able that in the course of this gradual develop- ment of the world many imperfections should be seen in it, — that it should fall short of the ideal of perfection revealed by God himself in the human mind. But the Creator cannot be blamed for this imperfection, for it is continually vanish- ing. If vanishing imperfection is an evil, there is indeed evil in the world, but such evil does not conflict with the goodness of God. Now, it may be asked, "Why this gradual development ? What means this slow process of improvement ?
IV CREATION MUST BR A PROCESS IQJ
Why did not God make the world perfect from the beginning?" Of course none but God himself can give a satisfactory answer to these questions. What little we understand of the matter we may put briefly as follows: (i) The only idea we have of a thing subject to time is that it should grow gradually. Time implies a process, in this case a process of growth. (2) Even if it were possible for the universe to come out perfect from the Creator's hand, it would not be desir- able. In that case man would understand nothing of its nature. Science depends on the study of process — of a process of growth. There would have been no science without a process of growth, and so an important characteristic of human nature would have been impossible. (3) Not only science, but other characteristics of humanity would perhaps have been impossible in that case. It is because the world is a process of growth that man is active. There are wants in nature, and to remove them man has to struggle against them, and in this struggle he is coming into constant relations of sympathy, co-operation and competition with fellow-men. In this consists the manhood of man. If the world were a perfect object without process and development, these relations and the man-
13
194 THE MYSTERY OF EVIL CHAP.
hood they make possible would have been impossible.
Fifthly, what has been said of the world's imperfection and the process of growth through which it is passing, applies more clearly to man's individual and social life. God is one, infinite and perfect. He cannot make another infinite and perfect being. There cannot be more than one infinite and perfect being. God's infinitude and perfection cannot be communicated to any other being. This does not imply any absence of power in God. That the impossible cannot be done, does not bespeak any want of power. As it does not imply any want of power in God that he cannot make two and two five, so it implies no want of power in him that he cannot make man, whose life is subject to time, perfect. A created object must necessarily be finite and imperfect. Something which begins to be, must be such that it can make continual progress, but can never be perfect. Imperfection must be inherent in it, and this inherent imperfection must be unavoidable to it. Whatever progress it makes towards perfection, some imperfection must always stick to it. Infinite power, know- ledge, love, peace and holiness can belong to God alone. Created beings must be limited in
IV A CREATED BEIXG MUST BE LIMITED 195
these attributes. The creatures of a perfectly good God must indeed be progressive, but a creature must necessarily be imperfect. This imperfection may in a sense be called an evil, but this evil, that is, the want of perfect good, is unavoidable for created beings. For them there is no meaning in a good free from this €vil. The very idea of a created being is this, — he can expect from an omnipotent and perfectly good Creator only this — that he should make gradual progress from evil towards good, that is from imperfection towards perfection. Such progress is his only good. And man and his condition exactly correspond to this idea. Under the providence of God he is making continual progress towards power, knowledge, civilisation, happiness, love and peace. Whatever evils we see in his life are but forms of his inherent im- perfection as a created being. Imperfection in knowledge and power is itself an evil in one sense, though this evil does not conflict with the divine goodness. And then a certain amount of pain as the result of this imperfection is also unavoidable. The ultimate explanation of evil is this imperfection inherent in created nature. In seeking an explanation of many particular painful events we see behind them this inherent
ig6 THE MYSTERY OF EVIL
imperfection of man — his want of knowledge, power «&c. Where the cause of some painful event cannot be clearly discovered, we ought to trust in the light within and believe that it must be due to some such unavoidable cause.
The conclusion of the whole matter is there- fore this : — There is really no conflict between the omnipotence and the perfect love and holiness of God on the one hand and the imperfection of created beings and the pain consequent upon it on the other. Notwithstanding the omnipo- tence and perfect goodness of God, the imperfec- tion of created beings and a certain amount of pain resulting from it are unavoidable. But this pain is, in most instances, the harbinger of higher happiness and spiritual progress. And pain of all forms is transient. With the progress of man pain is disappearing from the world. Our intuitive faith in God's perfection is there- fore untouched by the evil seen in the world. But inspite of this clear witness of knowledge, our weak faith is often shaken by the several trials of life. Nothing but deep communion with God in worship and the hearty enjoyment of his love can remedy this weakness of faith.
We have explained almost all the attributes in which God reveals himself to man and in
IV THE DIVINE BLISSFULNESS 197
which his devotees worship him. These main attributes have under them innumerable sub- attributes which perhaps need not be particularly expounded here. When faith is established in these fundamental attributes and the soul ad- vances in religious life in the light of such faith, these sub-attributes are gradually revealed to it. One attribute, which may be reckoned as a fundamental attribute and which devotees make an object of devout meditation, has received no particular exposition in this book. It is the blissfulness (dnanda) of God. The cause of our not taking it up is that it scarcely admits of metaphysical exposition and is not an object of metaphysical doubt.* The blissfulness of God is more an object of feeling and enjoyment than of thought and discussion. Discussion enables us to see only so far that a state of perfect knowledge, love and holiness is also a state of perfect bliss. It is imperfection, it is want, that causes pain, while perfection is the source of bliss. The Perfect One therefore is perfectly blissful. But perhaps devotees scarcely contem- plate God's blissfulness in this light. It is his
* This was written before the appearance of Mr. F. H. Bradley's Appearance aud Reality, in which the subject is elaborately dealt with.
ig8 THE MYSTERY OF EVIL CHAP.
manifestation as bliss in moments of deep devo- tion— 'Ananda-YUpam-amvitam yadvihhdti — * that is particularly the object of adoration and enjoy- ment. It is when he reveals himself in deep communion as the life of our life, that we feel him as blissful. It is when the heart swells on seeing the Perfectly Loving, as the ocean swells through the attraction of the moon, that we feel him as blissful. It is when the heart, finding no joy in earthly things, thirsts after seeing the Unseen in his matchless beauty and is charmed by the merest glimpse of that beauty, that we feel him as blissful. Blessed is the Blissful (Anandarupam), the Nectarful {Amritarupam), May his bliss, his nectar, fill the whole world !
* The Mundaka Upanishad, 11
Supplementary ghapters
CHAPTER A THEISTIC PRESUPPOSITIONS OF SCIENCE*
We have seen in our fourth lecture how mind and nature, in their relation as subject and object, reveal a conscious unity which at once constitutes this relation and transcends the limi- tation implied in it, and how our knowledge of time and space also involves the knowledge of an infinite and eternal Consciousness in re- lation to which all things in time and space exist, and which is also the inmost self of all intelligent beings. The method we employed in arriving at these truths is called the metaphysi- cal— the method of a science which claims to be the science of all sciences, for it deals with the fundamental principles of all special sciences — the principles underlying all knowledge and
* Lecture V of the author's Philosophy of Brdhmaism.
200 THEISTIC PRESUPPOSITIONS OF SCIENCE CHAP.
reality. As we saw in the last lecture, in all acts of knowing, the concrete reality known is a subject-object — an indivisible consciousness with objects necessarily related to it. In no act of knowing, as we saw, do we know a mere object unrelated to a subject or a mere subject unrelated to an object, a finite subject unrelated to the Infinite or a bare, colourless Infinite without any relation to things finite. Now, it is this essential relation of the object to the subject and the finite to the Infinite which it is the special pro- vince of Metaphysics to show forth and on a practical recognition of which all religion, truly so called, is based. But it will be seen that all special sciences, sciences dealing with particular things or particular aspects of things, are, — in so far as they retain their speciality, in so far as they avoid dealing with the general principles of all sciences and do not intrude upon the subject-matter of other sciences, — based on an abstraction of this fundamental relation. They speak of objects as if they were realities independ- ent of a subject, and of finite intelligences as if they were distinct realities unconnected with one another and independent of the Supreme Intelli- gence or God. This abstraction is indeed necessary for the existence and elaboration of the
A SPECIAL SCIENCES BASED ON ABSTRACTION 20I
Special sciences. Their function of finding out the qualities and relations of special things would not be helped, but would rather be ham- pered, by constant references to metaphysical truths — to their relation to the Supreme Reality of whi:h they are parts or manifestations. But what is unfortunate is, that not only the un- reflective and unscientific mass, but many men of science also are not aware that the special sciences proceed upon an abstraction, and that really there is only one absolute science, the science of the Supreme Reality or God, and all special sciences are only ramifications of that one absolute science, — all dealing with relative truths — truths that rise into absoluteness only when they are looked at in the light of the one Abso- lute Truth. Most scientific men mistake the abstraction of objects from the mind and of the finite from the Infinite as a real separation, and do not feel the need of rounding off the special sciences by showing their necessary relation to Metaphysics or Absolute Science. They do not see that the knowledge imparted by the special sciences does not amount to real or absolute knowledge unless it is seen in relation to the knowledge of the one Absolute Reality that shines through all. Now, this attitude of scienti-
202 TIIEISTIC PRESUPPOSITIOXS OF SCIENXE CHAP.
fic men is, in these days, doing the greatest harm to religion. The world is happily growing more and more scientific day after day. Scientific methods, the methods of observation and generali- sation, are being applied to all departments of nature and society. Blind dependence on author- ity is giving way to free and unbiased thought in all concerns of life. Religion, which was the last human concern to rest upon authority ,^ is itself tending to become a science, and has already become so to some choice minds. But to the great majority of reflective men it is not yet a science, and such men seem to swing between two extremes. One portion seems still to be trying to feel after a foundation of faith independent of science, while the other has run to the opposite dogmatism of supposing the special sciences as sources of absolute knowledge and of rejecting as superstition everything that does not come within their sphere. People of this class naturalh' look upon the truths of religion as no truths at all, and can be won back over to religion only if they can be shown that the principles that guide scientific thought,, commonly so-called, are not fundamental prin- ciples leading to true or absolute knowledge, — that they need to be re-criticised and seen in
A METAPHYSICAL CONCEPTIONS IN SCIENCE 203.
relation to principles that are really fundamental, and that when this is done, it is seen that the sciences, instead of being opposed or indifferent to religion, instead of being sceptical or agnostic as regards religious truths, are really so many revelations of God. This will be clear if we examine the basal conceptions of the various sciences, — the fundamental principles which they take for granted in their investigations of the phenomena of nature and mind. Such an ex- amination will show that these conceptions are really metaphysical and are direct attestations or expressions of the truths of religion. Now, our proposed survey of the fundamental conceptions of science must necessarily be a very brief and hurried one, as it must be limited by the limited scope of this lecture. But I think it will give you sufficient food for reflection and afford hints which, if developed by thought and study, will convince you that the agnostic or sceptical aspect of modern science is a false appearance, the result, not of true scientific insight, but rather the absence of it on the part of scientific men, due rather to a circumscribed view^ of the nature and requirements of science than to a truly scientific vision of mind and nature.
Now, the sciences so far recognised as such
204 THEISTIC PRESUPPOSITIOXS OF SCIENXE CHAP.
may be divided into three main groups, the Physical, the Biological and the Moral. In the first-mentioned group are such sciences as Physics, Chemistry, Geology and Astronomy ; the second includes Botany, Physiology, Zoology and the like ; and the third comprises Psychology, Logic, Ethics, Sociology, Politics, etc. The fundamental conceptions employed in the physical group are those of substance, casuality and reciprocal action ; those used in the biological are life and growth ; and those on which the moral sciences are based are individuality and social unity. Now I shall show, by a brief examination of these various conceptions, that they are really metaphysical and presuppose the fundamental truths of religion.
Let us begin, then, with the conception of substance. This idea implies that all changes are changes of something which remains unchanged and undiminished, that all changes are changes in form or appearance, but that what undergoes or presents the changes remains always identical with itself. For an example we need not go far. The book in my hand consists of materials which have gone through many changes. The paper it is made of assumed its present shape after many transformations, and it may still go
A CONXEPTIOX OF SUBSTANCE 205
through many more, I might now, if I were so minded, put it into the fire of the light before me, and it would, in the course of a few minutes, be reduced to ashes. How great would be the change it would then undergo ! Both its visible and tangible shape would be changed. But we should still believe that the substance of which it is composed would remain quite undiminished in quantity and identical with itself. Even if we supposed the matter it consisted of to be so rarefied as to be invisible and intangible, we should still believe it to remain undiminished in quantity and identical in its essential qualities. Now, what is that persistent element in it which under so many changes of form and appearance we believe to be identical with itself? It is plain that it is nothing sensuous, — no presentation or appearance to sense, for we suppose all its sensuous appearances as changeable. It is true that, under all its changes of form, we still ascribe to it the essential quality of occupying space and the power of offering resistance ; but as we cannot conceive space except as filled with visible or tangible materials, and as the power of offering resistance is nothing like the sensible state or feeling we call resistance, the essential properties we ascribe to material substance are
2o6 THEISTIC PRESUPPOSITIONS OF SC1E^•CE CHAP.
not actually sensuous qualities. We conceive it as a mere capability of presenting sensuous appearances under certain conditions, and not as actually possessing sensuous qualities. In using the conception of substance, therefore, science goes beyond sense and beyond its proper method of observation and generalisation. No sensuous experience and no amount of observa- tion, however vast and searching, can give us the idea of substance ; and yet no experience and no observation is possible without it. It is a pure, non-sensuous conception brought by the mind itself to experience as one of its essential constituents. It is in fact a fundamental principle of thought, an essential form of the mind's own activity, and necessarily implies the existence of a knowing permanent Self. It is really the form in which the Self presents change to itself. The unchanged or unchangeable is the necessary correlate of change. An object cannot be con- ceived as changed and at the same time remain- ing identical with itself without something in it being thought of as unchanged. But form as changing and substance as remaining unchanged again imply an unchangeable Consciousness to which they are presented in mutual correlation. All scientific thought therefore involves, as its
A CONXEPTION OF CAUSE 207
necessary implication, the truth of an eternal Consciousness to which nature is essentially related. If men of science doubt or profess ignorance of this truth, they so far fall short of true scientific insight and prove themselves in- capable of working out the principles of science up to their ultimate logical issues.
This will be seen even more clearly if we examine the conception of causality, the most important conception employed in scientific in- vestigations. The causal law is, that every change is related to something from which it follows necessarily, that is, given which, it must follow. Now, it would be going much beyond my proposed limits to discuss here the various theories of causation and their bearing on the problem before us ; but a brief discussion of at least two of them cannot be avoided in dealing with the special subject in hand. You will see that as it is not a thing considered as permanently in space, but a change, something that takes place in time, that we are called upon to account for, the cause we seek must be related to the effect in time; or in other words it must be antecedent to the effect and therefore itself a change. As we have seen in the fourth lecture, €very change must be thought of as necessarily
208 THEISTIC PRESUPPOSITIONS OF SCIENCE CHAP,
related to another change both before and after it, and time must be conceived of as an infinite series of changes without any absolute beginning and absolute end. That every change must be thought of as the change of some substance remaining identical with itself under all changes, we have already seen. That the mere self-identity of a substance, though the general condition of all changes, cannot account for any particular change, is also clear. The self-identity of water is the general condition of its three states, liquid, solid and gaseous, but for this very reason it cannot account for any one of these states in particular. Their explanation we must seek in the action of other substances on water. The cause ot a change must therefore be another change or series of changes. The theory that a true cause must be a power and the meaning that properly belongs to 'power,' we shall discuss as we proceed. The current scientific view of cause is a change from which the effect follows necessarily. Now, let us see, by an example, what this necessity is ; and let us ask whence we derive this idea of necessity. If I set this book on fire, you will see it going through a number of transformations. These transformations will follow one another necessarily. When one has
THE CAUSAL NEXUS 20g
taken place, the second must follow, and then the third jnust come after the second, and so on. Can you suppose that when I have set fire to one corner of this leaf, the fire may or may not travel further, or that the change of colour in it, its thinning away and the loose- ning of its parts and the like may or may not take place ? You know that these events must follow. But this must, this necessity, this causal nexus that binds one event to another indissolubly, is just what we do not perceive by any of our senses. What we perceive is only one event following another. Particular sequences, the following of particular events by particular other events, we may observe several times in our life, and we may arrive at generalisations from such observation. But generalisations, however wide, do not amount to or account for necessity. A sequence, however constant, is not the same as a binding link between two events. This binding link is supplied by the Self in us and the Self in nature. The Self, as the conscious, non-sensuous and timeless witness of events, binds them together by the necessity that essentially belongs to its thought. The determination of event by event is really their determination by the Cons- ciousness of which events are manifestations.
2IO THEISTIC PRESUPPOSITIONS OF SCIENCE CHAP.
In spite of their apparent contingency, events, as manifestations of the one, self-identical Self, unchangeable in character, are themselves neces- sary, and present this necessity in their mutual relations. The necessity that we discover in the causal relation is really the self-identical un- changeable character of the Self that manifests itself in events and in their relations. If the Self be symbolically represented by S and any two events, causally related, by a and b, then the judgment, ' b is determined by a,' may be said to be really the judgment, 'S6 is determined by Sa,' or ' S is determined by S.' What, on a superficial view, appears to be the determination of one purely sensuous event by another of the same nature, turns out, on a deeper and closer view, to be the determination of the Self by the Self. What scientific men call the uniformity of nature, and adduce as the reason why the sequences observed by them as so far constant and unvaried must be absolutely constant and invari- able, is really the self-identical and unchangeable nature of the Self and the necessity by which the fundamental principles of thought are charac- terised. Nature, abstracted from thought, cannot but appear as contingent, and hence the failure of mere physical science to explain the necessity
THE REAL MEANING OF NECESSITY
found in the laws discovered by it — a necessity which nevertheless it assumes and which really constitutes the value of these laws. The progress of civilisation — the progress made in agriculture, navigation, hygiene, medicine and other depart- ments of life — has all proceeded upon our firm faith in the fixity of the laws of nature ; and yet, if we interrogate nature herself as a reality independent of mind, she really cannot tell us why she should not be to-morrow quite different from what she has been up to this time. But when we endeavour to understand her by light from within, when we look upon her as the manifestation of Spirit, we find that her funda- mental laws, which are really the fundamental laws of thought, cannot but be necessary and unchangeable. We thus see that the most im- portant principle of Physical Science, the law of universal causation, is really the revelation of an eternal, unchangeable and self-determining Spirit in nature. Science, we see, is agnostic or ignorant of God only in its lower or baser mood, when it does not fully know itself, when it does not fully understand the fundamental principles upon which it proceeds. When made to look fully at its own face as reflected in the mirror of true Philosophy, it unavoidably becomes
212 THEISTIC PRESUPPOSITIONS OF SCIENCE CHAP.
theistic. Even Physical Science, not to speak of the higher sciences, when thus made self-cons- cious, becomes indistinguishable from Theology or the Science of God.
Now, we shall find a confirmation of what has just been said in a particular theory of causation which has been made much of by some Natural Theologians of England during the last forty years or so, and which has been used with much efEect in recent Brahma literature. You will find this theory expounded with much fulness in Babu Nagendranath Chatturji's Dharmajijndsdy pt. I, and in my Roots of Faith. It is expounded briefly and in a popular form in my little tract named Chintdkanikd. The theory interprets the scientific conception of force as really will, and holds that unconscious or non-conscious force is an impossibility. I have recently given a brief statement of the theory, — brief and at the same time as clear as I could make it — in a little book named The Religion of Brahman. I think that statement will serve our purpose as well as any fresh one that I could give now. I quote from p. II, Chapter II, of the book: "We have seen that self-intuition is involved in perceiving, thinking, feeling and acting. We shall consider its relation to acting somewhat more fully and
A ORIGINATING POWER OF WILL 213
see what we learn from it about God. It will be seen, when the relation of our actions to our minds is thought upon, that our minds are not only their knowers, but also their originators. When I attend, for instance, to the book before me, and keep my attention fixed upon it, I find that the action owes its origin to me. The same thing happens when I fanc}' — hold before my mind's eye — the image, say, of a tree or a house, change it as I choose, and at last dismiss it from my thoughts. A similar power is exercised when, on being oppressed by a train of troublesome thoughts or a painful image, I draw away my mind from it and get rid of the pain. When, from purely internal actions, we come out to those in which we come into contact with external objects, we see the same thing, though with a difference. When I lift up one of my hands, the movement certainly owes its origin, at any rate its initiation, to me ; but it is only my volition or act of willing that comes out directly from me. For the motion of my hand to follow my volition, a number of nerves and muscles on which I seem to have no direct com- mand must be moved ; for if they are stiffened by paralysis or some other cause, as they sometimes are, I see I cannot move my limbs. As, however.
214 THEISTIC PRESUPPOSITIONS OF SCIENCE CHAP.
under ordinary circumstances, I find my hand following my wishes, I must think that my volitions are, by some mysterious means, com- municated to the motor}' nerves and muscles. So, when I act on objects external to my body, when, for instance, I push aside the book before me, the change surely owes its origin to me ; but my power in the case is exercised through the medium of my hand and the apparatus by which it is moved. Now, it should be seen that, in all such cases, something that was not, comes to be. The objects moved may be old ; the images formed in the mind may be those of existing objects or combinations of such objects ; but whether combinations or move- ments, or their mere reproduction and dismissal, — to whatever terms the changes are reduced — something new, something original, is found in the phenomena. Here, then, is a wonderful power possessed by the human mind, — it is no less a power than that of creating, — of bringing existence out of non-existence. This power we call the will. It is the mind itself in an active state. It depends, evidently, on two other powers — those of knowing and desiring. The object to be moved must be known beforehand. A change, either on an external object or on the
A ALL CHANGES DUE TO WILL 215
mind itself, must, previously to its being pro- duced, be thought of and desired. Will there- fore is necessarily conscious and intending. An unconscious and unintending will is an absurdity.
"Now having in us this power of originating changes, we cannot but think of such a power behind the changes that we see taking place around us. We believe our fellow-beings as possessing the same power ; we endow the lower animals with it ; and we people what we call inanimate nature with innumerable powers, and trace all natural changes to them. We conceive our bodies, with the complex machinery of organs that keeps them alive, as the seats of a Power not our own ; and we can imagine no department of nature, — neither air, water, fire, the vegetable world, the sun, moon, nor stars — as without some guiding power or other. Now, it is seen that in primitive men, and even in the children of civilized nations, the power of origi- nating changes is invariably associated with knowledge and intention. To the unthinking savage, every object, at any rate every striking object, is the seat of a personality. Even to our advanced Vedic forefathers, Indra, Vdyu, Varuna, Agni — the powers that cause the phenomena of
2l6 THEISTIC PRESUPPOSITIONS OF SCIENCE CHAP.
rain, air, water and fire — were so many persons that could be addressed and propitiated by their worshippers. And even our own children kick, as conscious offenders, the objects that hurt them. But we, who have learnt to think methodically, have, by our power of scientific generalisation, reduced all powers in nature to one single Power. Further, by a process of abstraction, we have denuded the power of originating changes of its necessary accompani- ments of knowledge and intention, so that it is no more will to us, but only an abstract quality lying at the root of all change. In coming to this way of thinking, we have both gained and lost. We are right, as the modern discoveries of science and philosophy tell us, in so far as we trace all activities in nature to one single source. We are also right in seeing that it is incon- venient, if not quite incorrect, to call every change in nature a divine volition. But we are wrong in thinking, if we actually do so, that an abstraction in thought is an actual division or separation in reality, that a power of origination is possible without thought and intention. Men speak of force as something other than will and credit it with all change in Nature, not thinking that though we find it convenient to speak of
A TWO ALTERNATIVES OF THOUGHT 217
force as an abstract quality, we, can form no clear notion of it in our minds apart from know- ing and intending will.
"The fact is, that if we were left only with our sensuous perceptions and sensuous images, without the power of looking within and watch- ing the workings of our minds (supposing that such a state of existence were possible), we should have no idea of originating power or force ; and for us change would follow change without any causal link to connect them. Force or the power of origination is neither visible, audible, smellable, tasteable nor tangible ; nor is it anything of which a sensuous image can be formed in the mind. It is a power of the mind, and is known only by self-intuition ; and self-intuition reveals it as dependent on knowledge and desire. If therefore its existence in the external world is to be believed, it must be conceived there as having essentially the same nature as it possesses in us. We may altogether dismiss the idea of an originating power in nature, thinking it to be an illegitimate projection in nature of a purely internal experience — the experience of an origi- nating will, — and try to satisfy ourselves with a view of nature as a series of changes following one another without any causal link. This is
2l8 THEISTIC PRESUPPOSITIONS OF SCIENCE CHAP.
what consistent Sceptics like Hume and Comte tried to do, though we do not think they were successful in rooting out such a fundamental intuition as the intuition of power from their minds. But if changes in nature are at all to be referred to power, it must necessarily be conceived as a Supreme Will, — a knowing, in- tending and acting Mind. How this thought helps us in feeling the nearness of God — in realising him as living and acting incessantly in and out of us, the reader will think for himself." Now, as to the principle of reciprocity, everything said about causality applies so well to it, that I consider a separate treatment of it as unneces- sary.
Coming next, then, to the biological sciences, we find that, as in the case of the physical, these sciences are agnostic not in so far as they are scientific, but rather in so far as they stop short of being real sciences. In so far as the objects of these sciences are material bodies, they are indeed perfectly justified in applying mechanical principles, the principles of substance and causality, the laws of matter and motion, to them. And we have seen that even these prin- ciples, rightly understood, lead us much further than where ordinary Physical Science stops. But
A CONCEPTION OF DESIGN 219
organic matter, as organic, requires, for its proper explanation, principles very different from the mechanical. It is the teleological principle, the principle of final cause or design, that alone can explain organism, with its functions of life, generation and growth. As Kant truly says, "No Newton, we can say with certainty, will ever rise to make intelligible to us, according to mechanical causes, the germination of one blade of grass." Life is a mystery and will ever remain a mystery to the mere Mechanist, to him who carefully excludes design from the explanation of the products of nature. Let us take, for instance, the most prominent characteristic of life, its power of sustaining itself. Inorganic products grow by accretion, by the external addi- tion of one part to another, by one force acting upon another. A vegetable or animal germ, on the other hand, sustains itself by its ow^n power. External matter is indeed added to it, but this addition is due to its own internal power. In its case, addition is not mere accre- tion, as in inorganic objects, but assimilation^ the turning of external matter to its own use by the inherent power of the germ. This assi- milation itself is a most wonderful process, and is inexplicable on mechanical principles. It
220 THEISTIC PRESUPPOSITIONS OF SCIENCE CHAP.
involves selection, which directly carries purpose with it. Every germ assimilates just those materials which favour its growth into the pro- duct to which it tends, which is the end of its process of growth ; and every finished organism assimilates just what is required for its susten- ance, and nothing else. And then, secondly, while in the case of inorganic matter, the cause determines the effect, the parts determine the whole, the present determines the future, in the case of organic matter, it is the effect that determines the cause, the whole that determines the parts, and the future that determines the present. The seed grows into the tree, with trunk, branches, leaves, flowers and fruits — members which, in their turn, sustain the life of the whole tree and contribute to the production of seeds for the perpetuation of its kind. The animal germ grows into the finished animal body, with its complex system of organs, each devoted to a particular function and all contributing to the life and reproduction of the whole. In such instances, we see that what comes last, the com- pleted organism with its various functions, is potentially contained in the seed or the germ and determines its whole process of life and growth. But this potential or determinant existence of
A ORGANISMS INEXPLICABLE BY MECHANICAL PRINCIPLES 221
the effect in the cause can mean nothing else than this, that the idea or design of the effect determines or works in the cause. Either say this, or your explanation of organic phenomena explains nothing. Now, biological science avoids teleology or design just in so far as it ignores this fact of the determination of the present by the future, this relation of means and ends in organic phenomena. Its success in doing without the principle of final causes is only in so far as it is assimilated to Physical Science, only inasmuch as it tries to show that the growth and reproduction of organ- isms can be explained by principles employed in the latter. But organic phenomena refuse to be explained by mechanical principles. The unity of an organism, the relation of its parts as means and ends to one another, its power of sustaining and reproducing itself, are phenomena which, on mechanical principles, are accidents. Such principles fail to show that an organism is a necessity. Inorganic nature, as it is, may be shown to be the necessary result of the fundamental laws of matter and motion. But this necessity breaks down in the case of organic nature. These laws fail to show why organisms are what they are and not otherwise. So far as they are concerned, therefore, organisms are
222 THEISTIC PRESUPPOSITIOXS OF SCIENXE CHAP.
mere accidents, or in other words, they are in- explicable by mechanical laws and demand a different explanation. If one or two organisms arose here and there in nature, they might be set down as accidental effects of mechanical laws. But as they constitute a realm by them- selves, arising with a constancy and regularity as steady at least as the laws of physical sequence, they clearly defy the power of these laws to explain them. The constant and regular rise of the most complex and intricate systems, in which their complexity is co-ordinated to unity, in which the parts exist for the whole and the whole for the parts, in which the parts, organs ■or members are related as means and ends to one another, can be explained only by purpose. Exclude purpose from its explanation, and the whole affair wears the aspect of an accident. But the very essence of accident is irregularity. When something happens with an invariable constancy, it passess out of the category of accidents, and its constancy demands a rational explanation. In the case of organic phenomena, this rational explanation cannot be anything but purpose. The very nature of organisms, as already described, makes mere mechanical ex- planation unsatisfactory and irrational. As mere
A SIMILARITY OF HUMAN AND NATURAL ACTIONS 223
phenomena, mere events in time, all phenomena, including human actions, are subject to the laws of universal causation. But in so far as the actions of human beings are related to one another, they demand a higher determination, a higher ex- planation, than the mechanical, the merely physical. They require further to be ascribed to purpose and free-will. Similar is the case with the phenomena of organic nature. Their very nature proves a higher determination than that by merely physical causes. They have to be traced to the designing will of a Being above nature. The proof in the latter case is not a bit less strong than in the former. If we know the minds of our fellow-beings by examining the nature of their actions, not less surely do we know mind in nature by the same method. You will find this point clearly put and dwelt on at some length in Babu Nagendranath Chatturji's Dharmajijndsd, pt. I, where you will also find numerous illlustrations of design in nature. Dr. James Martineau's Study of Religion is also a very helpful book on the Design Argument, I content myself with a brief statement of the argument in the way I conceive to be the best and pointing out its place in the system of Theistic Evidences. I think that, from the stand-
224 THEISTIC PRESUPPOSITIONS OF SCIENCE CHAP.
point of science, it is organic nature that directly calls for the teleological principle as its only rational explanation ; and I have therefore exhibited it as the real basis of the biological sciences. But we have now to see that even according to the scientific method this principle is applicable to inorganic matter also. In a broad sense, the whole world is an organism, its various parts related to one another as means and ends and all serving the purposes of life and mind. The teleological nature of what we call inorganic matter becomes evident if we see its relation to organic beings. Air in itself, for in- stance, may seem to be purposeless, to be ex- plicable by mere chemical laws ; but chemistry fails to explain it when we contemplate its re- lation to life and living beings. Is the relation of air to the lungs and the vital functions of animals merely fortuitous ? Can any mechanical laws even remotely explain this relation ? Does any conceivable explanation satisfy Reason except the one that ascribes the relation to design? The same remark applies to the relation of light to the eye, of sound to the ear, of food and drink to the digestive organs, — in fact to the relation of inorganic nature as a whole to organic beings. Is this relation, with the various ends
A PRESUPPOSITIONS OF PSYCHOLOGY 225
of organic beings systematically served by it, accidental, purposeless ? If it cannot be explained by the laws of matter and motion with which the physical sciences deal, it must be either accidental or purposive ; and as the first of these suppositions is excluded by the constant and systematic nature of the relation in question, the only rational explanation of it is that it is due to the will of a conscious, intending Being of transcendent power and wisdom to whom nature, both organic and inorganic, is subject.
We now come to the third and last group of the sciences, the mental and moral. The abstrac- tion on which the inductive sciences, as at present conceived, are based, is nowhere so patent as in this final group. The science of mind, as at present taught, takes for granted, if only as a supposition, that the individual mind can be known and made the subject matter of science apart from the Infinite Mind. To many writers on Psychology, this supposition is unfortunately not a mere supposition, but a dogma, an agnostic creed which they undertake to defend with elabo- rate arguments. To many others, it is a con- venient plea for avoiding discussions, more or less theological or metaphysical, in which they feel no interest and on which they do not like to
15
226 THEISTIC PRESUPPOSITIONS OF SCIENCE CHAP.
pronounce any judgment. Yet, the truth is that these writers, almost at every turn in their treat- ment of their science, make statements and admissions which are nothing but disguised confessions of faith in the Infinite Mind. In my fourth lecture, I have ready shown, by an analysis of knowledge, that we cannot know the subject or the object, the individual or the universal soul, in abstraction from each other, and that, in every act of knowing the concrete reality known is a subject-object, a spirit which has both a finite and an infinite aspect, and which is both our own self and the self of the universe. On the present occasion, I shall particularly draw your attention to what may be called the very fundamental assumption on which Empirical Psychology is based, the assumption, namely, that there is a sub-conscious region in which mental facts, sensations, ideas, judgments, etc., exist when they are absent from our consciousness, — the con- sciousness of individuals. You will see that Psychology cannot do without this assumption. In the individual, knowledge shines only inter- mittently. Every moment we have command of only a very small stock of ideas. The rest of our ideas, — even those which we have already acquired, remain behind in the background
A ABSTRACTION IMPLIED IK PSYCHOLOGY 227
of our consciousness, from which they come to light and in which they disappear again and again. Our mental life resembles a basin erected round a perpetual spring, a basin in which the water rises and collects awhile, and from which it again disappears, repeating this process conti- nually. It resembles such a basin rather than a canvas on which images are permanently painted and are always visible. In profound dreamless sleep, as you know, our conscious life becomes a perfect blank ; even self-consciousness, the basis of all other forms of consciousness, being suspend- ed. Now, here is the difficulty of Psychology as a mere empirical science, as a science of mere phenomena and their laws. Other sciences pro- fessedly treat of their objects without any refer- ence to the relation which they may have to the mind. Not so Psychology. Its very object is consciousness. It professes to deal only with conscious phenomena and the laws of their combination and association. And yet these phenomena are found to be only fitful visitants of the field which Psychology traverses — the field of individual consciousness. Ever and anon they disappear from this field and enter a region of which this science, as at present conceived, pro- fesses to know nothing. A region beyond cons-
228 THEISTIC PRESUPPOSITIONS OF SCIENCE CHAP.
ciousness is indeed a perfect blank to the science of consciousness. Conscious phenomena, when they cease to be conscious, are indeed nothing to mental science properly so called, and the modern science of the mind, if it were consistent, would be speechless about conscious ph'^nomena as soon as they left the region of individual consciousness. But in that case it would cease to be a science, and so, naturally enough, it does not like to commit suicide in this fashion. Hence it lives, and lives at the cost of consistency with itself. It speaks of conscious phenomena becom- ing unconscious, existing in a region of sub- consciousness, and emerging from it again as self-same conscious phenomena. But this is so much pure nonsense, seeming to be sense because it is continually spoken by thinkers and writers who can think clearly and write cleverly on certain things, but who lack the deepest and the truest insight into things of the mind. The fact is, if you consider your individuality to be the only thing you know, and think that you know nothing of a universal, ever-waking, all knowing Mind in which your individuality is contained, then, to be consistent, you ought to say, as soon as a mental fact passes out of your individual consciousness, that it has entirely ceased to be.
CONTRADICTIOX INVOLVED IX PSYCHOLOGY 229
and that it is impossible for it to revive or re- appear. When, for instance, you forget this lecture hall, you should say that the idea perishes once for all and any recurrence or return is im- possible for it. In losing it, you lose, as it were, a part of yourself, a part of your conscious life, for it is suffused with or constructed by your self- consciousness. As your individual consciousness exhausts your mental life, you cannot imagine your lost idea as hidden in a corner of your mind for a while and coming back to light again. The only consistent course of thinking for you, then, is to think, when you forget your idea, that it is lost irrecoverably. Whatever ideas may enter your mind after its loss can be only fresh, new ideas, — belonging to a different period of time and therefore numerically different pheno- mena. But you knov^ that you cannot keep up this consistency. After the lapse of a few moments or after a few hours' oblivion, the idea of the hall re-appears to your mind, and you know surely that it is the same idea that occurred to your mind before. You find that it is suffused, pervaded, or constructed through and through with your self — the self that knew it before and persists till now, — that it is the lost part of your self that is come back. But it could not come
230 THEISTIC PRESUPPOSITIONS OF SCIEN'CE CHAP.
back unless it existed during the time that it was absent from your individual consciousness. And in what other form could it exist than in a conscious form — as an idea ? An idea existing unthought of is as plain a contradiction in terms as any can be. You are therefore forced to admit that your individuality — your conscious life moment after moment — is not sufficient in itself, is not self-subsistent, but that your ideas, your whole conscious life, must be contained in a Mind which indeed is essentially one with what you call your individual mind, but which is higher than your individuality, for it never forgets anything and never sleeps. Now, it has always seemed to me rather strange, ladies and gentlemen, that this plain fact, namely, that the individual mind is not self-sustained, but lives, moves and has its being in the Universal Mind — a truth which was so plain to the rishis of the Upanishads thousands of years ago, should be so obscure and incomprehensible to modern psychologists of the West. I rejoice to see, how- ever, that the great American psychologist, Professor James, has recognised this truth so far, in his recent lectures on Varieties of Religious- Experience, as to admit the existence of a very large and sleepless mind behind every individual
A RELATION" OF PSYCHOLOGY TO THEOLOGY 23 1
mind. He seems yet incapable of feeling his way to the doctrine of an indivisible Infinite Mind as the support of all finite minds, though he speaks of this doctrine with great respect. I cannot but entertain the hope that Psychology, in the near future, will see its true nature as a science and be again, as it once was, the hand- maid of Theology.
Now, the relation of Psychology to Theology is a very large subject, and what I have said is, as it were, only a drop from the ocean. But the time allotted to me is over, and I must stop here. I must forego the pleasure of speaking, on the present occasion, of the religious implications of the social and ethical sciences, specially as I must deal, at some length, with the basis of ethics and the nature of ethical judgments in speaking of the moral perfections of God. May the Holy Spirit be with us in the arduous task still before us and lead us to the truth as it is in him.
CHAPTER B
MR. BRADLEY ON THE DIVINE PERSONALITY*
Mr. F. H. Bradley is perhaps the most eminent philosophical writer of England at the present time. His Ethical Studies, Principles of Logic and Appearance and Reality are books which may be said to have made epochs in English thought. His last book, Essays on Truth and Reality, which came out last year and a brief mention of which was made in these columns sometime ago, fully sustains his reputation as a great thinker. Some chapters of this book are specially interesting to those to whom religion is not merely a matter of conduct and sentiment, but also an object of philosophical thought. In his Appearance and Reality, perhaps the most profound metaphysical work in English, Mr.
* Reprinted from the Indian Messenger of March 21, 1915-
B MR. BRADLEY S ADVANCE TOWARDS THEISM 233
Bradley had pronounced personal immortality as having only a slight probability in its favour. His .lews on the divine personality also, as expressed in that book, were likely to dissatisfy and perhaps mystify people who look for help and guidance in religious thought from eminent philosophical writers. In the present volume he seems to make a decided advance towards views which are usually called Theistic, and the writer himself admits this, so far as to say, "There are points again where I desire to lay a different emphasis upon some aspects of the question" (that is, the personality of the Abso- lute.) In another place he says, "I will touch briefly on two points which I have elsewhere discussed, laying at that time perhaps an undue emphasis on one aspect of the matter. I refer to the 'personality' of God and the 'immortality' of the soul." (P. 438).
However, to understand Mr. Bradley's views as set forth in his last work, it is necessary to have some idea of his general views on Truth, Reality and the nature of the Absolute. We shall briefly state and explain these views in our own way, — a way which, we hope, will not be quite unintelligible to the thoughtful reader, however unfamiliar he may he with the techni-
234 MR- BRADLEY ON THE DIVINE PERSONALITY CHAP.
calities of Philosophy. The current view as to Reality is, as Mr. Bradley puts it, "that a thing must be real or unreal, that, whatever things are real, are real alike and equally, and that, in short, with regard to reality it is always a case of Yes or No. and never of more or less." But according to Mr. Bradley there are degrees in reality. Things that people ordinarily believe to be absolutely real, as for instance, material objects and their changes, our finite selves, and even the personality of God, are to him only partially or relatively so, and the x\bsolute, the All, is alone fully or absolutely real. The criterion by which Mr. Bradley tests the reality, relative or absolute, of a thing, is nothing more recondite than the well-known logical law of non-contradiction or self-consistency. Time, Space, Substance, Self, Personality, are all found to involve contradictions and are hence pro- nounced to be only Appearance, that is, partial expressions of Reality, and the Absolute, as the only self-consistent and non-contradictory thing, is alone held to be fully or absolutely real. To Mr. Bradley, the Absolute is Reality, Experience and Happiness, — Sat, Chit and Ananda, in the words of our Indian philosophy. He does not use these Sanskrit words and never quotes from
B THE ABSOLUTE ALONE FULLY REAL 235
or refers to any Vedantic writings. But his views have a most striking similarity to those set forth in those writings. However, the ordinary reader will have a clue to Mr. Bradley's method if we refer him to the view often expressed in the philosophical articles that have appeared in this paper from time to time, that an object of knowledge cannot be independ- ent of the subject, — that to think that things known can exist unknown, involves a contradic- tion. When this truth is clearly understood, it will be seen that things usually thought of as fully real are only partially or relatively so, — real only in relation to the knowing mind. On the other hand, knowing minds or selves, which seem to be independent of known objects, are really unmeaning and inconceivable without them. Mere subjects are as self-contradictory as mere objects and therefore as much appearances or partial realities as the latter. The full or absolute reality, therefore, is that of which subjects and objects are only partial or relative manifest- ations. Mr. Bradley calls this Absolute Reality 'Experience'. He finds 'knowledge' and even 'self inadequate to express the fulness, the all-inclu- siveness, of the Absolute. In every act of know- ledge, indeed, it is the Absolute, the All, that
236 MR. BRADLEY ON THE DIVINE PERSONALITY CHAP.
manifests itself. But as an act, a process, know- ledge is partial and does not represent the omnipresence and eternality of the Absolute. The Absolute's 'experience' must comprehend all things in space and all events in time in one undivided and timeless vision. This distinction of finite and infinite knowledge makes our sages call Brahman jndnam and hesitate to call him a jndni. However, Time and Space, like Object, Subject and Knowledge, are self-contradictory, and only partial and not absolute realities. Events follow one another. But events are not real in themselves, they are manifestations of Experience, which neither precedes nor follows anything. Time, therefore, is only an appearance and not an absolute reality, the absolutely Real being timeless. In the same manner, one portion of space is external to another. But Experience, to which space is relative, is not external to anything, and 'things' external to one another are all comprehended in it. It is abso- lutely one and indivisible. Hence Space is only an appearance and not a reality, the Real being spaceless. From all this it follows that the finite self, the self which is conceived as begin- ning to be or to know, and to advance gradually in its self-hood, is not absolutely real, but is real
B THE ABSOLUTE SUPER-PERSONAL 237
only in the degree it represents or manifests the Absolute. And there can be no doubt that the self represents the Absolute as nothing else does, for experience, which is the fundamental charac- teristic of the Absolute, is also the essence of the self. Now, here comes in the question of personality. The self in each of us appears in the form of a person, a person excluding other persons and excluding things not included in our personality. Now, if personality necessarily implies this exclusion, this finitude, the Absolute, which includes every person and thing, and excludes none, cannot indeed be personal. In this sense, in the sense of its all-inclusiveness, Mr. Bradley calls it super-personal, that is, not below% but above, personality. This should not lead the reader to assimilate Mr. Bradley's Absolute in any sense to Mr. Spencer's, for the latter is neither Experience nor Happiness, which the former is. And Mr. Bradley's Absolute is not only Experience and Happiness — Chit and Ananda77i, — but also Spirit, Will and Love, as the following quotations from Essays on Truth and Reality will show : "A God that can say to himself T as against you and me, is not in my judgment defensible as the last and complete truth for Metaphysics. But, that being admitted,
238 MR. BRADLEY ON THE DIVINE PERSONALITY CHAP.
the question remains as to what God is for religion. The religious consciousness must re- present to itself the Good Will in its relations with mine. It must express both our difference and our unity. And must not, it will be asked, that representation take the form of a 'personal' God? I answer that to insist here on 'must' to myself seems untenable, but on the other hand, I am fully prepared to accept 'may'. But there is one condition on which I have to lay stress. The real presence of God's will in mine, our actual and literal satisfaction in common, must not in any case be denied or impaired. This is a religious truth far more essential than God's 'personality' and hence that personality must be formulated, no matter how inconsistently, so as to agree with this truth and to support it." (p. 433.) Again, "The highest Reality, so far as I see, must be super-personal. At the same time to many minds practical religion seems to call for the belief in God as a separate individual. And, where truly that belief is so required, I can accept it as justified and true, but only if it is supplemented by other beliefs which really con- tradict it. And these other beliefs, I must add, are more vital for religion. A God who has made this strange and glorious nature outside of which
B GOD THE INinVELLING SELF OF ALL 239
he remains, is an idea at best one-sided. Con- fined to this idea we lose large realms of what is beautiful and sublime, and even for religion our conception of goodness suffers. Unless the Maker and Sustainer becomes also the indwelling Life and Mind and the Inspiring Love, how much of the Universe is impoverished !"
It is evident that in combating the 'personality' of God, Mr. Bradley opposes only the popular conception of an anthropomorphic God supposed to be outside of and thus virtually limited by the material world and the soul of man, and not the Sarvahhutdntardtman, the Indwelling Self of all creatures, who was worshipped by the rishis of the Upanishads and is now worshipped by their modern followers of various denominations
CHAPTER C
MONISM, PLURALISM AND THEIR RECONCILIATION*
I
Beyond the din and bustle of war, political ambition and commercial expansion, the reflect- ive mind notices a steady growth of higher thought — thought about God, Immortality and the Kingdom of the Spirit — in the advanced nations of the world. This growth is the real promise of the lasting peace and happiness of future humanity. It is most marked — at any rate to those, like ourselves, who look at the world through English spectacles — in England and the United States of America. Germany perhaps, as we have been noticing for nearly half a century, and as appears from what has been and is being written about it recently, has not
* Reprinted from the Indian Messenger of May i6 and 23. 1915-
C PRESENT SITUATION' IX PHILOSOPHY 24I
gone on in the forward march of higher philo- sophy after its great contribution to the interest under Leibnitz, Kant and Hegel. Eucken indeed is very popular, but beyond emphasising the practical aspect of philosophy, he has really contributed nothing new and original. France indeed is philosophically awake in Bergson, but Bergson's philosophy is still in the making, and it will yet take some time for the world to learn clearly what he has to say on the great problems of mind and life. His main attempt seems to be directed to correcting the one-sidedness of Ideal- istic Absolutism, — to the exposition of the reality of time and change. The chief interest of philo- sophy seems at present to be centred in the subject which forms the title of this paper. It is a refreshing characteristic of present-day philo- sophical thought and discussion that there are no great minds who care to defend either materialism or the duality of matter and mind. These doctrines are now confined to the unreflect- ive and the unphilosophical. The more reflect- ive minds, specially those who are in touch with higher philosophical literature, see now the reality of mind perhaps more clearly than was ever seen in any other age of the world, and to all who have given us systems of thought, mind is the sole
16
242 MOKISM, PLURALISM AND THEIR RECONCILIATION' CHAP.
reality, whether conceived in a monistic or pluralistic form. In our articles on "Mr. Bradley on Immortality and the Divine Personality", which appeared in the Indian Messenger in its issues of March 21 and 28, we ha^^e seen that the most eminent philosophical thinker of England at the present day is a spiritual monist. We also saw in those articles his method of approach- ing the great problems of mind — what may roughly be called the critical method — the method of philosophical analysis and synthesis guided by the law of non-contradiction. In its essence it is the same as the Dialectical Method of Hegel. But though acknowledging great in- debtedness to Hegel, Mr. Bradley does not profess to be a close follower of his method. Professor John McTaggart of Cambridge, an able exponent of the Hegelian Philosophy, is another leading thinker of the day. He differs from Bradley and the early English Hegelians, — Stirling, Green, the Cairds, and their younger followers, — in represent- ing the Absolute not as a unitary Spirit, but as a Unity of spirits and he thinks that his exposi- tion of Hegel's meaning is a truer exposition than that of the writers just named. According to him every human personality is a partial and temporary reproduction of a distinct eternal
C DR. MCTAGGAHT S VIEWS 243
person in whom the whole of reality is eternally particularised and who has therefore both a finite and an infinite aspect, and Absolute Reality is a unity of such persons, — a unity which, so far as we may know and conceive it, is not personal. That human personality, in the imperfect and broken form which it assumes in our lives, cannot be conceived except in relation to — except as the reproduction of — a perfect all-inclusive Person, is a thought which must already be familiar to our readers. What we know moment after moment must be thought of as connected with all that we, as individuals subject to the limitations of time and space, do not know — connected in a Mind which is above such limi- tations, but which is at the same time essentially one with what we call our own mind. But is it the same Mind that forms the absolute ground of all our minds ? Reality indeed is one, its unity being implied in all forms of knowledge and in all our mutual relations, intellectual and moral. But is the unity that of a single Mind or Person ? If so, what would be the meaning of the innumerable differentiations of the world — of the countless persons, distinct from and often hostile to one another, of whom human society is com- posed ? If there were no differentiations in the
244 MONISM, PLURALISM AND THEIR RECONCILIATION CHAP.
Original, how could they be found in the repro- ductions ? Besides, personality or self-conscious- ness is such an integral, indivisible thing, that one cannot share it with others, and a single Person including other persons in himself cannot be conceived. Considerations like these lead Dr. McTaggart to conclude that the Absolute is an impersonal Unity of spirits eternally distinct from and yet related to one another, who, as subjects, exclude one another, but, as objects, are included in one another. Dr. McTaggart defends the Hegelian character of his doctrine by referring to that part of the Dialectic in which Hegel treats of the category of Life. One quotation from his Studies in Hegelian Cosmology will make his meaning clear. In distinguishing Hegel's view of the Absolute from that of Lotze, he says on p. 31 of the book: ''But this is not Hegel's view. He reaches in the category of Life a result from which he never departs in the subsequent categories — that the unity and plurality are in an absolutely reciprocal relation, so that while the plurality is nothing but the differentiation of the unity, the unity is nothing but the union of the plurality."
We see then how Hegelianism, though a system of Monism, approaches Pluralism in some
C DR. HALDAR S CRITICISM OF MCTAGGART 245
of its representations. Of real Pluralism, how- ever, Pluralism unmodified by Monism, we shall treat later on. Its chief representative is the American psychologist, James, lately deceased. But before we cross the Atlantic, we may as well turn once to our own country and see what one of our own thinkers — a deep and subtle thinker and an able writer on philosophy, chiefly in the form of articles in the English and American reviews, but who has also given us two little but deeply thoughtful books— has to say on the recon- ciliation of Monism and Pluralism. Dr. Hiralal Haldar, in his Ph. D. thesis on Hegelianism and Human Personality, accepts the doctrine of the Absolute as eternally differentiated into persons, having come to the conclusion by independent thinking before Dr. McTaggart wrote his Cosmo- logy. But he ably and, as it seems to us, very successfully combats McTaggart's view of the im- personality of the Absolute. One extract from Dr. Haldar's essay will show the line of argu- ment taken by him. On p. 29 he says : "Each particular self, in so far as it contains everything, is identical with the Supreme Reality within which everything falls. Its consciousness, as all- embracing, must coincide with the Supreme Reality, and the Supreme Reality, on its part, must
246 MONISM, PLURALISM AN'D THEIR RECON'CILIATIOX CHAP,
therefore coincide with its consciousness and hence be conscious. I do not see how it is possible to evade this conclusion. A particular differentiation of the Absolute, as a finite deter- minate thing, excludes all others, but it includes everything, not in its own strength, but in virtue of the identity of its all-embracing consciousness with the Ultimate Reality, which cannot conse- quently be other than consciousness. The con- ception of a particular self ideally including everything becomes tenable only on the supposi- tion that the inclusion is also real, and if the ideal inclusion is conscious inclusion, so the real inclusion must also be." And, as Dr. Haldar says briefly in another place, "Once touched with self- consciousness at a particular point, where, be it remembered, it (the Absolute) is completely personal, how can it ever shake it off ?...So if the Absolute is a person in me, it must itself have personality."
In the second part of our article we shall speak of the Pluralism, Humanism or Pragmatism, as it is variously called, of Professors James and Ward, and of its attitude towards Theism.
PLURALISM 247
II
The prevailing heresy of the day, the lineal successor of Mill's Scepticism and Spencer's Agnosticism, is Pluralism, called also Humanism, because it conceives the world as an assemblage of human or finite spirits, and Pragmatism, because to it the true is identical with the useful or practical. It professes to be a system of Empiricism, " Radical Empiricism," in the words of its chief advocate. Professor James. It is almost as blind as the elder Empiricism to the fact that its opponents — at any rate many of them — also appeal, not to innate or a priori ideas, but to experience itself, and that the only difference between it and them lies in the different interpretations given of experience on each side. In still another characteristic it resembles its elder sister, and that is its impatience in studying the literature of the opposite school. The result is an over-weening confidence in itself and an exaggerated idea of its victory over enemies mostly the creatures of its own imagination. In going through James's Pluralistic Universe, one is struck with the author's superficial knowledge of the Absolutist writers he mentions and criti- cises. There is nowhere any attempt to system- atically state or summarise the arguments of
240 MONISM, PLURALISM AND THEIR RECONCILIATION CHAP.
these writers, to enter into the analysis of ex- perience given by them, and then to show its insufficiency or to expose any unwarrantable assumptions that may be involved therein. The whole criticism resolves into the suggestion of a number of difficulties which the theistic or monistic theory of the world cannot fully meet. On its own part, Pluralism undertakes no analysis of experience. Its assumption that the world consists of a plurality of distinct selves of all grades of development, from the lowest forms of life to the most highly refined souls, it takes as a given fact — as the practical presupposition of all knowledge and activity. Having started from this assumption, it shows how the instinct of self-preservation and growth inherent in each conscious unit of the world leads it to struggle, to act on and be acted on by its fellows, and thus to gather experience and gain strength. To the Monist or the philosophical Theist, the whole description of this growth in experience on the part of fundamentally isolated individuals — for instance the one given in Professor Ward's Realm of Ends, — seems little better than so much my- thology. To him, the individual cannot be conscious of himself without feeling himself, however vaguely at first, one with a Universal
PLURALISTIC ASSUMPTIONS 249
which at the same time transcends him infinitely. His self-consciousness is simply bound up with the consciousness of a universal life. The Pluralist therefore starts with a false assumption — an as- sumption which is by no means a fundamental datum of experience. The individual does not — he simply cannot — start with an idea of himself as an isolated unit surrounded by other units quite distinct from him. He starts with an idea of himself as a part of a whole — a whole which he jeels to be conscious, but only gradually knows and thinks to be so as he grows more and more reflective. When he thinks of other units like himself, he thinks of them also as parts of a whole — the same whole of which he is a part. Now, false in his start, the Pluralist is false also in the account he gives of the growth and ac- cumulation of experience in the individual. Experience cannot grow and accumulate in a self merely individual — one whose consciousness is limited to the immediacy of time and space. Such a self, a self subject to sleep and oblivion, is incapable of conserving its momentary ex- periences, uniting them and developing them into the knowledge, wisdom and strength which •constitute the glory of humanity. All this im- plies in him the presence of Something which
250 MONISM, PLURALISM AND THEIR RECOXCILIATION CHAP.
transcends the limitations implied in individuality. Neither can a mere individual have any com- merce or connection with other individuals. The Pluralist only takes such connection for granted and does not see its necessary implications. These implications are the existence of a single universal and undivided Experience and its re- production or particularisation in the form of individual experiences. If the moving of the water of a single tank causes the water of other tanks to move, or if the ringing of the bell of a single temple rings also the bells of other temples, the tanks and the temples in question must have a bond of unity, some- thing which is common to all of them. Infinitely deeper must be the Unity which makes possible the complex and diversified relations of the social and spiritual life of humanity. And the Unity underlying conscious beings must be itself con- scious. But the Pluralist thinks he can do without such a Unity. Professor James took great interest in religion. For the mystical and the unusual in religion specially, he had a theosophist's passion and avidity. But in his Varieties of Religious Experience, though he allows a very large subliminal self behind every waking human self, he confesses he does not see the
C PROF. WARD S PLURALISTIC THEISM 25I
necessity of postulating a common universal self behind all. If there is a God at all, he thinks, that God cannot be the Absolute — he may only be a very great individual among individuals, primus inter pares. Professor Ward, in his book named above, arrives at a more satisfactory conclusion. In the earlier parts of his book, he attempts to construct a purely pluralistic universe with the activities, individual and combined, of its component parts. This attempt reminds one of J. S. Mill's attempt to construct a purely sensationalist universe of mere " possibilities of sensation" and " laws of association " without any ontological principle. But as Professor Ward proceeds, and has done with his criticism of the ordinary theistic conceptions of a world governed by fixed laws under an all-seeing and perfectly good God, he by and by sees, — much in the same way in which Mill latterly admitted an ontological basis of his " possibilities " and the probablity of a personal God, — that, after all, the theistic interpretation of the universe is far more reasonable than the pluralistic one. Once, however, on the high road to 'Faith', which he extols over Reason, he gradually comes to attribute to God all the perfections which a devout Theist believes in, though
252 MONISM, PLURALISM AND THEIR RECONCILIATION CHAP,
on grounds quite unsatisfactory to those who are not gifted with any great "wish to be- lieve," and who, with Tennyson, see "more faith in honest doubt than in all your creeds." We may illustrate the unsatisfactoriness of Professor Ward's procedure by an extract from the con- cluding chapter of his book. He says on p. 436 : "Not content with the admission that Pluralism on examination points both theoretically and practically beyond itself, many advocates of Singularism (by which term Professor Ward evidently means Absolutist Monism) have attempt- ed to show it up as radically absurd. These attempts do not appear successful. That an absolute totality of individuals is self-contradic- tory and that an absolute individual (by which term the Professor evidently means the Monist's Absolute) is not, is more than any one has yet proved. That a plurality of individuals in isola- lation should ever come into relation, is incon- ceivable indeed, but only because a plurality without unity is itself inconceivable. That in- dividuals severally distinct as regards their ex- istence could not interact, is however a mere dictimi. Pluralism takes the world as we find it, as a plurality of individuals unified in and through their mutual intercourse. 'Radically empirical'
MR. BRADLEY ON PLURALISM 253
this certainly is, but if it be true, we are entitled to ask the Singularist how he ever got started on the a priori road. We approach Theism then as promising to complete Pluralism, not as threatening to abolish it, as providing theoretical- ly more unity in the ground of the world, and practically a higher and fuller unity in its meaning and end." We need not stop to point out the contradictions and misconceptions in- volved in this extract. What we have said above will perhaps somewhat help the reader to see them.
We shall close with one or two extracts from Mr. Bradley's short criticism of Pluralism, specially that of Professor James, in his Essays on Truth and Reality. His estimate of the system is so unappreciative, that though he has given only about a hundred pages to it in a book of nearly five hundred, he says in his preface : "I have been unwilling to include so many pages on Pragmatism. The subject certainly does not occupy a corresponding space in my mind." Mr. Bradley refers in several places of his book to Professor James's ignorance of Absolutism. We extract only a small footnote : "Prof. James's idea as to Absolutism, that it is a way of getting what you want without paying anything for it,
254 MONISM, PLURALISM AND THEIR RECONCILIATION CHAP.
is surely (to any one who knows) a striking revelation of the limits of his knowledge." Of the general character of James's work, he says, "Assuredly I am not alone in the desire that he would turn his back for a time on sporadic articles and on popular lectures, with their intolerence and half-heartedness and more or less plausible arguments, and would work in the way in which a man who seriously aims at a new philosophy is condemned to work, and with a result which I at least feel sure would repay his labour. And perhaps in the mean time he might remind his followers on this side of the Atlantic that, of course without prejudice to the future, it is not yet true that the crowing of the cock brings the sun above the horizon." The last sentence refers evidently to the jubilant cry of James's admirers that the sun of a new system has risen on the philosophical horizon. Mr. Bradley closes his examination of Pragma- tism with the following words on Prof. James's place as a philosopher : "Judging so far as I can judge, I must doubt that claim, to take high rank as a metaphysician, which has been made not by, but on behalf of. Prof. James. I cannot find in his metaphysical views (as I understand them) much real originality, and what I miss,
C PROF. JAMES AS A METAPHYSICIAN 255
perhaps even more, in his metaphysics, is the necessary gift of patient labour and persistent self-criticism. With all his merits as a philo- sopher, and assuredly they are great, I cannot think it is as a metaphysician that Prof. James's name will hold its place in the history of thought." "But Prof. James's contribution to Psychology," he says in another place, "will re- main, I believe, indubitable."
OTHER WORKS BY THE SAME AUTHOR
8. Hindu Theism : A Defence and Exposition. Som Brothers, 30, Goabagan Lane, Calcutta. Re. 1-8.
9. The XJpanishads in Devanagari and English characters, in t\v 5 volumes. Som Brothers. Rs. 3-8.
10. The Religion of Brahman or The Creed of Educated Hindus. Elysium Press, 3, Fariapukur Street, Calcutta. As. 8.
11. Sankaracharya : His Life and Teachings. Elysium Press. As. S.
12. Maitreyi : a Vedic Stoni'. Natesan & Co., 4, Sanku- ram Chetty Street, Madras. As. 4.
13. The Philosophy of Sankaracharya in Natesan's " Sir Sankaracharya." As. i::.
14. Gleams of the New Light ; Essays in exposition of some leading principles of pure Theism, doctrinal and practical. Sadharan Brahmo Samaj Office, 211, Cornwallis Street, Calcutta, As. 5.
15. The Roots of Faith : Essays on the grounds of belief in God and in criticism of Scepticism and Agnosticism. Sadha- ran Brahmo Samaj Office. As. 5.
16. Whispers from the Inner Life : Essays on Theistic Ideals and Experiences. Sadharan Brahmo Samaj Office. As. 4.
17. Thirstinsr after God : Prayers offered in times of private devotions. Sadharan Brahmo Samaj Office. As. 2.
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