FOOTNOTES:
[247] Mádhava here calls it the práchí Mímáṃsá.
[248] Cf. J. Nyáyamálávist, pp. 5-9.
[249] Thus it is said that he who desires to be a family priest should offer a black-necked animal to Agni, a parti-coloured one to Soma, and a black-necked one to Agni. Should this be a case for tantra or not? By tantra one offering to Agni would do for both; but as the offering to Soma comes between, they cannot be united, and thus it must be a case of ávápa, i.e., offering the two separately (J. Nyáyamálá, xi. 1, 13).
[250] In p. 123, line 4, I read vilakshaṇa-dṛishṭaphala.
[251] In the former case it would be a vidhi, in the latter a niyama. Cf. the lines vidhir atyantam aprápto niyamaḥ pákshike sati, tatra chányatra cha práptau parisaṃkhyá vidhíyate.
[252] The Mímáṃsá holds that the potential and similar affixes, which constitute a vidhi, have a twofold power; by the one they express an active volition of the agent, corresponding to the root-meaning (artha-bhávaná); by the other an enforcing power in the word (śabda-bhávaná). Thus in svargakámo yajeta, the eta implies "let him produce heaven by means of certain acts which together make up a sacrifice possessing a certain mystic influence;" next it implies an enforcing power residing in itself (as it is the word of the self-existent Veda and not of God) which sets the hearer upon this course of action.
[253] These four "fruits of action" are obscure, and I do not remember to have seen them alluded to elsewhere. I was told in India that they were a thing's coming into being, growing, declining, and perishing. If so, they are the second, third, fifth, and sixth of the six vikáras mentioned in Śaṅkara's Vajrasúchi, 2, i.e., asti, jáyate, vardhate, vipariṇamate, apakshíyate, naśyati. I do not see how there could be any reference to the four kinds of apúrva, sc. phala, samudáya, utpatti, and aṅga, described in Nyáya M. V. ii. 1, 2.
[254] The nigamas are the Vedic quotations in Yáska's nirukta.
[255] See Nyáya-málá-vistara, i. 4, 19.
[256] The exact number is 915.
[257] This is to explain the last of the five members, the saṃgati.
[258] Cf. Aśvaláyana's Gṛihya Sútras, i. 19, 1.
[259] The anuváda, of course, implies a previous vidhi, which it thus repeats and supplements, and so carries with it an equal authority. The anuváda in the present case is the passage which mentions that the Veda is to be read, as it enforces the previous vidhi as to teaching.
[260] I read in p. 127, line 12, anava-gamyamánasya, and so the recension given in the Nyáya M. V. p. 14, na budhyamánasya.
[261] In the next two or three pages I have frequently borrowed from Dr. Muir's translation in his Sanskrit Texts, vol. iii. p. 88.
[262] The soul may be traced back through successive transmigrations, but you never get back to its beginning.
[263] Mádhava means that the author of this stanza, though unknown to many people, was not necessarily unknown to all, as his contemporaries, no doubt, knew who wrote it, and his descendants might perhaps still be aware of the fact. In this case, therefore, we have an instance of a composition of which some persons did not know the origin, but which, nevertheless, had a human author. The stanza in question is quoted in full in Böhtlingk's Indische Sprüche, No. 5598, from the MS. anthology called the Subháshitárṇava. For muktaka, see Sáh. Darp., § 558.
[264] The eternity of the Veda depends on this tenet of the Mímáṃsá that sound is eternal.
[265] Eternal things (as the atoms of earth, fire, water, and air, minds, time, space, ether, and soul) have viśesha, not sámánya or genus, and they are all imperceptible to the senses. Genera are themselves eternal (though the individuals in which they reside are not), but they have not themselves genus. Both these arguments belong rather to the Nyáya-vaiśeshika school than to the Nyáya.
[266] The Mímáṃsaka allows that the uchcháraṇa or utterance is non-eternal.
[267] The inference will be as follows: "The Vedas were arranged after being acquired by other modes of proof, with a view to their manifestation, from the very fact of their having the nature of sentences, just like the compositions of Manu, &c."
[268] The argument will now run, "The Vedas were arranged after being acquired by other modes of proof, because, while they possess authority, they still have the nature of sentences, like the composition of Manu, &c."
[269] In assuming a material body, he would be subject to material limitations.
[270] The Jainas allow thirty-four such superhuman developments (atiśayáḥ) in their saints.
[271] Jaimini maintains that the vibrations of the air "manifest" the always existing sound.
[272] "What is meant by 'noise' (náda) is these 'conjunctions' and 'disjunctions,' occasioned by the vibrations of the air."—Ballantyne, Mímáṃsá Aphorisms, i. 17.
[273] The Nyáya holds that colour and sound are respectively special qualities of the elements light and ether; and as the organs of seeing and hearing are composed of light and ether, each will, of course, have its corresponding special quality.
[274] In p. 131, line 7, I read pratyakshásiddheḥ.
[275] Cf. my note pp. 7, 8, (on the Chárváka-darśana) for the upádhi. The upádhi or "condition" limits a too general middle term; it is defined as "that which always accompanies the major term, but does not always accompany the middle." Thus if the condition "produced from wet fuel" is added to "fire," the argument "the mountain has smoke because it has fire" is no longer a false one. Here, in answer to the Nyáya argument in the text, our author objects that its middle term ("from the fact of its being a special quality belonging to an organ of sense") is too wide, i.e., it is sometimes found where the major term "non-eternal" is not found, as, e.g., in sound itself, according to the Mímáṃsá doctrine. To obviate this he proposes to add the "condition," "not causing audition," as he will readily concede that all those things are non-eternal which, while not causing audition, are special qualities belonging to an organ of sense, as, e.g., colour. But I need scarcely add that this addition would make the whole argument nugatory. In fact, the Púrva Mímáṃsá and the Nyáya can never argue together on this question of the eternity of sound, as their points of view are so totally different.
[276] In the former case we have the dhwaṃsa of sound, in the latter its prágabháva.
[277] In p. 131, line 12, I read samapauhi for samápohi, i.e., the passive aorist of sam + apa + úh.
[278] I do not know this legend. Tála and Betála are the two demons who carry Vikramáditya on their shoulders in the Siṃhásan-battísí. It appears to be referred to here as illustrating how one answer can suffice for two opponents.
[279] This is probably a work by Bhásarvajña (see Dr. Hall's Bibl. Index, p. 26).
[280] Dhvani, or our "articulate noise," produces the vibrations of air which render manifest the ever-existing sound. There is always an eternal but inaudible hum going on, which we modify into a definite speech by our various articulations. I take saṃskṛita here as equivalent to abhivyakta.
[281] I read in p. 131, line 15, saṃskárakasaṃskáryabhávábhávánumánam.
[282] It would be a case of vyabhichára. The Naiyáyika argument would seem to be something as follows:—Sound is not thus manifested by noise, since both are simultaneously perceived by the senses, just as we see in the parallel case of the individual and its species; these are both perceived together, but the individual is not manifested by the species. But the Mímáṃsá rejoins that this would equally apply to the soul and knowledge; as the internal sense perceives both simultaneously, and therefore knowledge ought not to be manifested by the soul, which is contrary to experience. But I am not sure that I rightly understand the argument.
[283] Here begins a long púrva-paksha, from p. 131, line 18, down to p. 133, line 9; see p. 198 infra.
[284] This is Prabhákara's view (see Siddh. Muktáv., p. 118). The first knowledge is in the form "This is a jar;" the second knowledge is the cognition of this perception in the form "I perceive the jar;" and this latter produces authoritativeness (prámáṇya), which resides in it as its characteristic.
[285] Substances are "intimate causes" to their qualities, and only substances have qualities; now if authoritativeness, which is a characteristic of right knowledge, were caused by it, it would be a quality of it, that is, right knowledge would be its intimate cause and therefore a substance.
[286] The eye, &c., would be its instrumental causes.
[287] The first three categories "substance," "quality," and "action," are called játis or species; the last four, "genus," "viśesha," "intimate relation," and "non-existence," are called upádhis or "general characteristics."
[288] The Púrva Mímáṃsá denies that recollection is right knowledge.
[289] Wrong knowledge is produced by the same instrumental causes (as the eye, &c.) which produced right knowledge, but by these together with a "defect," as biliousness, distance &c.
[290] Scil. if there be doshábháva there is pramá; if not, not. In p. 132, line 20, I read doshábhávatvena for doshábhávasahakṛitatvena.
[291] Anyathásiddhatvam means niyatapúrvavartitve sati anávaśyakatvam.
[292] Scil. or the absence of "defect," doshábháva.
[293] Wrong knowledge has doshábháva or the presence of a "defect" as its cause, in addition to the common causes.
[294] Wrongness of knowledge (apramátva) can only reside in knowledge as a characteristic or quality thereof; it cannot reside in a jar. The jar is, of course, produced by other instrumental causes than those of knowledge (as, e.g., the potter's stick, &c.), but it is not produced by these other causes in combination with being also produced by the instrumental causes of knowledge (with which it has nothing directly to do); and so by a quibble, which is less obvious in Sanskrit than in English, this wretched sophism is allowed to pass muster. The jar is not produced-by-any-other-instrumental-causes-than-those-of-knowledge,-while-at-the-same-time-it-is-produced-by-these.
[295] I suppose this is the argument given at the close of the previous long púrva-paksha.
[296] These words "and is other than defect" (dosha-vyatirikta) are, of course, meaningless as far as right knowledge is concerned; they are simply added to enable the author to bring in "wrong knowledge" as an example. Wrong knowledge is caused by the causes of knowledge plus "defect;" right knowledge by the former alone.
[297] The Nyáya holds that wrong knowledge is produced by a "defect," as jaundice, &c., in the eye, and right knowledge by a guṇa or "virtue" (as the direct contact of the healthy organ with a true object), or by the absence of a "defect."
[298] The guṇa (or βελτἱστη ἕξις of an organ is not properly a cause of pramá but rather doshábháva-bodhaka.
[299] Scil. "doubtful" (sandigdha) and "ascertained non-authoritativeness" (niśchitáprámáṇya).
[300] Utsarga is a general conclusion which is not necessarily true in every particular case; but here it means the conclusion that "right knowledge has no special causes but the common causes of knowledge, the eye," &c.
[301] The first knowledge is "This is a jar," the second knowledge is the cognition of this perception in the form "I perceive the jar;" and simultaneously with it arises the cognition of the truth of the perception, i.e., its authoritativeness or prámáṇya.
[302] This seems to be a quotation of Udayana's own words, and no doubt is taken from his very rare prose commentary on the Kusumáñjali, a specimen of which I printed in the preface to my edition. This passage must come from the fifth book (v. 6?).
[303] I read tat-práchuryam for tatpráchurye in p. 134, line 7.
[304] This stanza affirms that according to the Mímáṃsá school, while authoritativeness is self-proved, non-authoritativeness is proved from something else (as inference, &c.)
[305] I take vyutpatti here as used for śakti; siddhe means ghaṭádau.
[306] These are the two great Mímáṃsá schools. The former, called abhihitánvaya-vádinaḥ, hold (like the Naiyáyika school) that words by themselves can express their separate meaning by the function abhidhá or "denotation;" these are subsequently combined into a sentence expressing one connected idea. The latter, called anvitábhidhána-vádinaḥ, hold that words only express a meaning as parts of a sentence and grammatically connected with each other; they only mean an action or something connected with an action. In gám ánaya, gám does not properly mean gotva, but ánayanánvita-gotva, i.e., the bovine genus as connected with "bringing." We cannot have a case of a noun without some governing verb, and vice versâ. Cf. Waitz, as quoted by Professor Sayce (Comparative Philology, page 136): "We do not think in words but in sentences; hence we may assert that a living language consists of sentences, not of words. But a sentence is formed not of single independent words, but of words which refer to one another in a particular manner, like the corresponding thought, which does not consist of single independent ideas, but of such as, connected, form a whole, and determine one another mutually."
CHAPTER XIII.
THE PÁṆINI-DARŚANA.[307]
If any one asks, "Where are we to learn how to separate a root and an affix so as to be able to say, 'This part is the original root and this is an affix,'" may we not reply that to those who have drunk the waters of Patañjali this question produces no confusion, since it is notorious that the rules of grammar have reference to this very point of the separation of the original roots and affixes? Thus the very first sentence of the venerable Patañjali, the author of the "Great Commentary," is "atha śabdánuśásanam," "Now comes the exposition of words." The particle atha ("now") is used here as implying a new topic or a commencement; and by the phrase, "exposition of words," is meant the system of grammar put forth by Páṇini. Now a doubt might here arise as to whether this phrase implies that the exposition of words is to be the main topic or not; and it is to obviate any such doubt that he employed the particle atha, since this particle implies that what follows is to be treated as the main topic to the exclusion of everything else.
The word "exposition" (anuśásana), as here used, implies that thereby Vaidic words, such as those in the line śaṃ no devír abhishṭaye,[308] &c., and secular words as ancillary to these, as the common words for "cow," "horse," "man," "elephant," "bird," &c., are made the subject of the exposition, i.e., are deduced from their original roots and properly formed, or, in other words, are explained as divided into root and affix. We must consider that the compound in this phrase represents a genitive of the object [śabdánuśásanam standing for śabdasyánuśásanam], and as there is a rule of Páṇini (karmaṇi cha, ii. 2, 14), which prohibits composition in such a construction, we are forced to concede that the phrase śabdánuśásanam does not come before us as a duly authorised compound.
Here, however, arises a discussion [as to the true application of the alleged rule of Páṇini], for we hold that, by ii. 3, 66, wherever an object and an agent are both expressed in one and the same sentence in connection with a word ending with a kṛit affix, there the object alone can be put in the genitive and not the agent;[309] this limitation arising from our taking ubhayaprápti in the sútra as a bahuvríhi compound.[310] Thus we must say, "Wonderful is the milking of cows by an unpractised cowherd." We may, however, remark in passing that some authors do maintain that the agent may in such cases be put in the genitive (as well as the object); hence we find it stated in the Káśiká Commentary: "Some authors maintain that there should be an option in such cases without any distinction, and thus they would equally allow such a construction as 'the exposition of words of the teacher' or 'by the teacher.'" Inasmuch, however, as the words of the phrase in question really mean that the "exposition" intended relates to words and not to things, and since this can be at once understood without any mention of the agent, i.e., the teacher, any such mention would be plainly superfluous; and therefore as the object and the agent are not both expressed in one and the same sentence, this is not an instance of the genitive of the object (coming under ii. 3, 66, and ii. 2, 14), but rather an instance of quite another rule, viz., ii. 3, 65, which directs that an agent or an object, in connection with a word ending with a kṛit affix, is to be put in the genitive [which in this instance is expressed by the tatpurusha compound]; and the compound in question will be strictly analogous to such recognised forms as idhma-pravraśchana, paláśa-śátana, &c.[311] Or we might argue that the genitive case implied in this shashṭhítatpurusha is one of the class called "residual," in accordance with Páṇini's rule (ii. 3, 50), "Let the genitive be used in the residuum," [i.e., in the other constructions not provided for by special rules];[312] and in this way we might defend the phrase against the opponent's attack. "But," it might be replied, "your alleged 'residual genitive' could be assumed everywhere, and we should thus find all the prohibitions of composition in constructions with a genitive case rendered utterly nugatory." This we readily grant, and hence Bhartṛihari in his Vákyapadíya has shown that these rules are mainly useful where the question relates to the accent.[313] To this effect are the words of the great doctor Vardhamána—
"In secular utterances men may proceed as they will,
"But in Vaidic paths let minute accuracy of speech be employed.
"Thus have they explained the meaning of Páṇini's sútras, since
"He himself uses such phrases as janikartuḥ and tatprayojakaḥ."[314]
Hence it follows that the full meaning of the sentence in question (of the Mahábháshya) is that "it is to be understood that the rules of grammar which may be taken as a synonym for 'the exposition concerning words' are now commenced."
"Well, then, for the sake of directly understanding this intended meaning, it would have been better to have said 'now comes grammar,' as the words 'now comes the exposition of words' involve a useless excess of letters." This objection cannot, however, be allowed, since the employment of such a word as śabdánuśásanam, the sense of which can be so readily inferred from its etymology, proves that the author intends to imply an end which shall establish that grammar is a subordinate study (aṅga) to the Veda.[315] Otherwise, if there were no such end set forth, there would be no consequent application of the readers to the study of grammar. Nor may you say that this application will be sufficiently enforced by the injunction for study, "the Veda with its six subordinate parts must be read as a duty without any (special) end,"[316] because, even though there be such an injunction, it will not follow that students will apply to this study, if no end is mentioned which will establish that it is an aṅga of the Veda. Thus in old times the students, after reading the Veda, used to be in haste to say—
"Are not Vaidic words established by the Veda and secular by common life,
"And therefore grammar is useless?"
Therefore it was only when they understood it to be an aṅga of the Veda that they applied themselves to its study. So in the same way the students of the present day would not be likely to apply themselves to it either. It is to obviate this danger that it becomes necessary to set forth some end which shall, at the same time, establish that grammar is an aṅga of the Veda. If, when the end is explained, they should still not apply themselves, then, being destitute of all knowledge of the true formation of secular words, they would become involved in sin in the course of sacrificial acts, and would consequently lose their religious merit. Hence the followers of sacrifice read, "One who keeps up a sacrificial fire, on using an incorrect word, should offer an expiatory offering to Saraswatí." Now it is to declare this end which establishes that it is an aṅga of the Veda that he uses the words atha śabdánuśásanam and not atha vyákaraṇam. Now the rules of grammar must have an end, and a thing's end is determined by men's pursuit of it with a view thereto. Just as in a sacrifice undertaken with a view to heaven, heaven is the end; in the same way the end of the exposition of words is instruction concerning words, i.e., propriety of speech. "But," an objector may say, "will not the desired end be still unattained for want of the true means to it? Nor can it be said that reading the Veda word by word is the true means; for this cannot be a means for the understanding of words, since their number is infinite, as divided into proper and improper words.[317] Thus there is a tradition that Bṛihaspati for a thousand divine years taught to Indra the study of words as used in their individual forms when the Veda is read word by word,[318] and still he came not to the end. Here the teacher was Bṛihaspati, the pupil was Indra, and the time of study a thousand years of the gods; and yet the termination was not reached,—how much less, then, in our day, let a man live ever so long? Learning is rendered efficient by four appropriate means,—reading, understanding, practising, and handing it on to others; but in the proposed way life would only suffice for the bare time of reading; therefore the reading word by word is not a means for the knowledge of words, and consequently, as we said at first, the desired end is not established." We reply, however, that it was never conceded that the knowledge of words was to be attained by this reading word by word. And again, since general and special rules apply at once to many examples, when these are divided into the artificial parts called roots, &c. (just as one cloud rains over many spots of ground), in this way we can easily comprehend an exposition of many words. Thus, for instance, by the general rule (iii. 2, 1), karmaṇi, the affix aṇ is enjoined after a root when the object is in composition with it; and by this rule we learn many words, as kumbhakára, "a potter," káṇḍaláva, "a cutter of stems," &c. But the supplementary special rule (iii. 2, 3), áto 'nupasarge kaḥ, directing that the affix ka is to be used after a root that ends in long á when there is no upasarga, shows how impracticable this reading word by word would be [since it would never teach us how to distinguish an upasarga]. "But since there are other aṅgas, why do you single out grammar as the one object of honour?" We reply, that among the six aṅgas the principal one is grammar, and labour devoted to what is the principal is sure to bear fruit. Thus it has been said—
"Nigh unto Brahman himself, the highest of all religious austerities,
"The wise have called grammar the first aṅga of the Veda."
Hence we conclude that the exposition of words is the direct end of the rules of grammar, but its indirect end is the preservation, &c., of the Veda. Hence it has been said by the worshipful author of the great Commentary [quoting a Várttika], "the end (or motive) is preservation, inference, scripture, facility, and assurance."[319] Moreover prosperity arises from the employment of a correct word; thus Kátyáyana has said, "There is prosperity in the employment of a word according to the śástra; it is equal to the words of the Veda itself." Others also have said that "a single word thoroughly understood and rightly used becomes in Swarga the desire-milking cow." Thus (they say)—
"They proceed to heaven, with every desired happiness, in well-yoked chariots of harnessed speech;
"But those who use such false forms as achíkramata must trudge thither on foot."[320]
Nor need you ask "how can an irrational word possess such power?" since we have revelation declaring that it is like to the great god. For the Śruti says, "Four are its horns, three its feet, two its heads, and seven its hands,—roars loudly the threefold-bound bull, the great god enters mortals" (Rig-Veda, iv. 58, 3). The great commentator thus explains it:—The "four horns" are the four kinds of words—nouns, verbs, prepositions, and particles; its "three feet" mean the three times, past, present, and future, expressed by the tense-affixes, laṭ, &c.; the "two heads," the eternal and temporary (or produced) words, distinguished as the "manifested" and the "manifester;" its "seven hands" are the seven case affixes, including the conjugational terminations; "threefold bound," as enclosed in the three organs—the chest, the throat, and the head. The metaphor "bull" (vṛishabha) is applied from its pouring forth (varshaṇa), i.e., from its giving fruit when used with knowledge. "Loudly roars," i.e., utters sound, for the root ru means "sound;" here by the word "sound" developed speech (or language)[321] is implied; "the great god enters mortals,"—the "great god," i.e., speech,—enters mortals, i.e., men endowed with the attribute of mortality. Thus is declared the likeness [of speech][322] to the supreme Brahman.
The eternal word, called sphoṭa, without parts, and the cause of the world, is verily Brahman; thus it has been declared by Bhartṛihari in the part of his book called the Brahmakáṇḍa—
"Brahman, without beginning or end, the indestructible essence of speech,
"Which is developed in the form of things, and whence springs the creation of the world."
"But since there is a well-known twofold division of words into nouns and verbs, how comes this fourfold division?" We reply, because this, too, is well known. Thus it has been said in the Prakírṇaka—
"Some make a twofold division of words, some a fourfold or a fivefold,
"Drawing them up from the sentences as root, affix, and the like."
Helárája interprets the fivefold division as including karmapravachaníyas.[323] But the fourfold division, mentioned by the great commentator, is proper, since karmapravachaníyas distinguish a connection produced by a particular kind of verb, and thus, as marking out a particular kind of connection and so marking out a particular kind of verb, they are really included in compounded prepositions (upasargas).[324]
"But," say some, "why do you talk so much of an eternal sound called sphoṭa? This we do not concede, since there is no proof that there is such a thing." We reply that our own perception is the proof. Thus there is one word "cow," since all men have the cognition of a word distinct from the various letters composing it. You cannot say, in the absence of any manifest contradiction, that this perception of the word is a false perception.
Hence you must concede that there is such a thing as sphoṭa, as otherwise you cannot account for the cognition of the meaning of the word. For the answer that its cognition arises from the letters cannot bear examination, since it breaks down before either horn of the following dilemma:—Are the letters supposed to produce this cognition of the meaning in their united or their individual capacity? Not the first, for the letters singly exist only for a moment, and therefore cannot form a united whole at all; and not the second, since the single letters have no power to produce the cognition of the meaning [which the word is to convey]. There is no conceivable alternative other than their single or united capacity; and therefore it follows (say the wise in these matters) that, as the letters cannot cause the cognition of the meaning, there must be a sphoṭa by means of which arises the knowledge of the meaning; and this sphoṭa is an eternal sound, distinct from the letters and revealed by them, which causes the cognition of the meaning. "It is disclosed (sphuṭyate) or revealed by the letters," hence it is called sphoṭa, as revealed by the letters; or "from it is disclosed the meaning," hence it is called sphoṭa as causing the knowledge of the meaning,—these are the two etymologies to explain the meaning of the word. And thus it hath been said by the worshipful Patañjali in the great Commentary, "Now what is the word 'cow' gauḥ? It is that word by which, when pronounced, there is produced the simultaneous cognition of dewlap, tail, hump, hoofs, and horns." This is expounded by Kaiyaṭa in the passage commencing, "Grammarians maintain that it is the word, as distinct from the letters, which expresses the meaning, since, if the letters expressed it, there would be no use in pronouncing the second and following ones [as the first would have already conveyed all we wished]," and ending, "The Vákyapadíya has established at length that it is the sphoṭa which, distinct from the letters and revealed by the sound, expresses the meaning."[325] ]
Here, however, an objector may urge, "But should we not rather say that the sphoṭa has no power to convey the meaning, as it fails under either of the following alternatives, for is it supposed to convey the meaning when itself manifested or unmanifested? Not the latter, because it would then follow that we should find the effect of conveying the meaning always produced, since, as sphoṭa is supposed to be eternal, and there would thus be an ever-present cause independent of all subsidiary aids, the effect could not possibly fail to appear. Therefore, to avoid this fault, we must allow the other alternative, viz., that sphoṭa conveys the meaning when it is itself manifested. Well, then, do the manifesting letters exercise this manifesting power separately or combined? Whichever alternative you adopt, the very same faults which you alleged against the hypothesis of the letters expressing the meaning, will have to be met in your hypothesis that they have this power to manifest sphoṭa." This has been said by Bhaṭṭa in his Mímáṃsá-śloka-várttika—
"The grammarian who holds that sphoṭa is manifested by the letters as they are severally apprehended, though itself one and indivisible, does not thereby escape from a single difficulty."
The truth is, that, as Páṇini (i. 4, 14) and Gotama (Sút. ii. 123) both lay it down that letters only then form a word when they have an affix at the end, it is the letters which convey the word's meaning through the apprehension of the conventional association of ideas which they help.[326] If you object that as there are the same letters in rasa as in sara, in nava as in vana, in díná as in nadí, in mára as in ráma, in rája as in jára, &c., these several pairs of words would not convey a different meaning, we reply that the difference in the order of the letters will produce a difference in the meaning. This has been said by Tautátita—
"As are the letters in number and kind, whose power is perceived in conveying any given meaning of a word, so will be the meaning which they convey."
Therefore, as there is a well-known rule that when the same fault attaches to both sides of an argument it cannot be urged against one alone, we maintain that the hypothesis of the existence of a separate thing called sphoṭa is unnecessary, as we have proved that it is the letters which express the word's meaning [your arguments against our view having been shown to be irrelevant].
All this long oration is really only like a drowning man's catching at a straw;[327] for either of the alternatives is impossible, whether you hold that it is the single letters or their aggregation which conveys the meaning of the word. It cannot be the former, because a collection of separate letters, without any one pervading cause,[328] could never produce the idea of a word any more than a collection of separate flowers would form a garland without a string. Nor can it be the latter, because the letters, being separately pronounced and done with, cannot combine into an aggregate. For we use the term "aggregate" where a number of objects are perceived to be united together in one place; thus we apply it to a Grislea tomentosa, an Acacia catechu, a Butea frondosa, &c., or to an elephant, a man, a horse, &c., seen together in one place; but these letters are not perceived thus united together, as they are severally produced and pass away; and even on the hypothesis of their having a "manifesting" power, they can have no power to form an aggregate, as they can only manifest a meaning successively and not simultaneously. Nor can you imagine an artificial aggregate in the letters, because this would involve a "mutual dependence" (or reasoning in a circle); for, on the one hand, the letters would only become a word when their power to convey one meaning had been established; and, on the other hand, their power to convey one meaning would only follow when the fact of their being a word was settled. Therefore, since it is impossible that letters should express the meaning, we must accept the hypothesis of sphoṭa. "But even on your own hypothesis that there is a certain thing called sphoṭa which expresses the meaning, the same untenable alternative will recur which we discussed before; and therefore it will only be a case of the proverb that 'the dawn finds the smuggler with the revenue-officer's house close by.'"[329] This, however, is only the inflation of the world of fancy from the wide difference between the two cases. For the first letter, in its manifesting power, reveals the invisible sphoṭa, and each successive letter makes this sphoṭa more and more manifest, just as the Veda, after one reading, is not retained, but is made sure by repetition; or as the real nature of a jewel is not clearly seen at the first glance, but is definitely manifested at the final examination. This is in accordance with the authoritative saying (of the teacher): "The seed is implanted by the sounds, and, when the idea is ripened by the successive repetition, the word is finally ascertained simultaneously with the last uttered letter." Therefore, since Bhartṛihari has shown in his first book that the letters of a word [being many and successive] cannot manifest the meaning of the word, as is implied by the very phrase, "We gain such and such a meaning from such and such a word," we are forced to assume the existence[330] of an indivisible sphoṭa as a distinct category, which has the power to manifest the word's meaning. All this has been established in the discussion (in the Mahábháshya) on "genus" (játi), which aims at proving that the meaning of all words is ultimately that summum genus, i.e., that existence whose characteristic is perfect knowledge of the supreme reality[331] (Brahman).
"But if all words mean only that supreme existence, then all words will be synonyms, having all the same meaning; and your grand logical ingenuity would produce an astonishing result in demonstrating the uselessness of human language as laboriously using several words to no purpose at the same time!" Thus it has been said—
"The employment of synonymous terms at the same time is to be condemned; for they only express their meaning in turn and not by combination."
"Therefore this opinion of yours is really hardly worth the trouble of refuting."
All this is only the ruminating of empty ether; for just as the colourless crystal is affected by different objects which colour it as blue, red, yellow, &c., so, since the summum genus, Brahman, is variously cognised through its connection with different things, as severally identified with each, we thus account for the use of the various conventional words which arise from the different species,[332] as cow, &c., these being "existence" (the summum genus) as found in the individual cow, &c. To this purport we have the following authoritative testimony—
"Just as crystal, that colourless substance, when severally joined with blue, red, or yellow objects, is seen as possessing that colour."
And so it has been said by Hari, "Existence [pure and simple] being divided, when found in cows, &c., by reason of its connection with different subjects, is called this or that species, and on it all words depend. This they call the meaning of the stem and of the root. This is existence, this the great soul; and it is this which the affixed tva, tal, &c., express" (Páṇini v. 1, 119).
"Existence" is that great summum genus which is found in cows, horses, &c., differentiated by the various subjects in which it resides; and the inferior species, "cow," "horse," &c., are not really different from it; for the species "cow" and "horse" (gotva and aśvatva) are not really new subjects, but each is "existence" as residing in the subject "cow" and "horse." Therefore all words, as expressing definite meanings, ultimately rest on that one summum genus existence, which is differentiated by the various subjects, cows, &c., in which it resides; and hence "existence" is the meaning of the stem-word (prátipadika). A "root" is sometimes defined as that which expresses bháva;[333] now, as bháva is "existence," the meaning of a root is really existence.[334] Others say that a root should be defined as that which expresses "action" (kriyá); but here again the meaning of a root will really be "existence," since this "action" will be a genus, as it is declared to reside in many subjects, in accordance with the common definition of a genus, in the line—
"Others say that action (kriyá) is a genus, residing in many individuals."
So, too, if we accept Páṇini's definition (v. 1, 119), "Let the affixes tva and tal come after a word [denoting anything], when we speak of the nature (bháva) thereof," it is clear from the very fact that abstract terms ending in tva or tá [as aśvatva and aśvatá] are used in the sense of bháva, that they do express "existence." "This is pure existence" from its being free from all coming into being or ceasing to be; it is eternal, since, as all phenomena are developments thereof, it is devoid of any limit in space, time, or substance: this existence is called "the great soul." Such is the meaning of Hari's two kárikás quoted above. So, too, it is laid down in the discussion on sambandha [in Hari's verses] that the ultimate meaning of all words is that something whose characteristic is perfect knowledge of the real meaning of the word Substance.
"The true Reality is ascertained by its illusory forms; the true substance is declared by words through illusory disguises; as the object, 'Devadatta's house,' is apprehended by a transitory cause of discrimination,[335] but by the word 'house' itself, the pure idea [without owners] is expressed."[336]
So, too, the author of the Mahábháshya, when explaining the Várttika,[337] "a word, its meaning, and its connection being fixed," in the passage beginning "substance is eternal," has shown that the meaning of all words is Brahman, expressed by the word "substance" and determined by various unreal[338] conditions [as "the nature of horse," &c.]
According to the opinion of Vájapyáyana, who maintains that all words mean a genus, words like "cow," &c.,[339] denote a genus which resides by intimate relation in different substances; and when this genus is apprehended, through its connection with it we apprehend the particular substance in which it resides. Words like "white," &c., denote a genus which similarly resides in qualities; through the connection with genus we apprehend the quality, and through the connection with the quality we apprehend the individual substance. So in the case of words expressing particular names, in consequence of the recognition that "this is the same person from his first coming into existence to his final destruction, in spite of the difference produced by the various states of childhood, youth, adolescence, &c.," we must accept a fixed genus as Devadatta-hood,[340] &c. [as directly denoted by them]. So, too, in words expressing "action" a genus is denoted; this is the root-meaning, as in paṭhati, "he reads," &c., since we find here a meaning common to all who read.
In the doctrine of Vyáḍi, who maintained that words meant individual things [and not classes or genera], the individual thing is put forward as that which is primarily denoted, while the genus is implied [as a characteristic mark]; and he thus avoids the alleged faults of "indefiniteness," and "wandering away from its proper subject."[341]
Both views are allowed by the great teacher Páṇini; since in i. 2, 58, he accepts the theory that a word means the genus, where he says that "when the singular is used to express the class the plural may be optionally used" [as in the sentence, "A Bráhman is to be honoured," which may equally run, "Bráhmans are to be honoured">[; while in i. 2, 64, he accepts the theory that a word means the individual thing, where he says, "In any individual case there is but one retained of things similar in form" [i.e., the dual means Ráma and Ráma, and the plural means Ráma, and Ráma and Ráma; but we retain only one, adding a dual or plural affix]. Grammar, in fact, being adapted to all assemblies, can accept both theories without being compromised. Therefore both theories are in a sense true;[342] but the real fact is that all words ultimately mean the Supreme Brahman.
As it has been said—
"Therefore under the divisions of the meanings of words, one true universal meaning, identical with the one existent, shines out in many forms as the thing denoted."
Hari also, in his chapter discussing sambandha, thus describes the nature of this true meaning—
"That meaning in which the subject, the object, and the perception [which unites them] are insusceptible of doubt,[343] that only is called the truth by those who know the end of the three Vedas."
So too in his description of substance, he says—
"That which remains as the Real during the presence of modification, as the gold remains under the form of the earring,—that wherein change comes and goes, that they call the Supreme Nature."
The essential unity of the word and its meaning is maintained in order to preserve inviolate the non-duality of all things which is a cardinal doctrine of our philosophy.
"This [Supreme Nature] is the thing denoted by all words, and it is identical with the word; but the relation of the two, while they are thus ultimately identical, varies as does the relation of the two souls."[344]
The meaning of this Káriká is that Brahman is the one object denoted by all words; and this one object has various differences imposed upon it according to each particular form; but the conventional variety of the differences produced by these illusory conditions is only the result of ignorance. Non-duality is the true state; but through the power of "concealment"[345] [exercised by illusion] at the time of the conventional use of words a manifold expansion takes place, just as is the case during sleep. Thus those skilled in Vedánta lore tell us—
"As all the extended world of dreams is only the development of illusion in me, so all this extended waking world is a development of illusion likewise."
When the unchangeable Supreme Brahman is thus known as the existent joy-thought and identical with the individual soul, and when primeval ignorance is abolished, final bliss is accomplished, which is best defined as the abiding in identity with this Brahman, according to the text, "He who is well versed in the Word-Brahman attains to the Supreme Brahman."[346] And thus we establish the fact that the "exposition of words" is the means to final bliss.
Thus it has been said—
"They call it the door of emancipation, the medicine of the diseases of speech, the purifier of all sciences, the science of sciences."[347]
And so again—
"This is the first foot-round of the stages of the ladder of final bliss, this is the straight royal road of the travellers to emancipation."
Therefore our final conclusion is that the Śástra of grammar should be studied as being the means for attaining the chief end of man.
E. B. C.