I
THE SÂNKHYA COSMOLOGY
Here are two words, the microcosm and the macrocosm, the internal and the external. We get truths from both of these by means of experience; there is internal experience and external experience. The truths gathered from internal experience are psychology, metaphysics and religion; from external experience the physical sciences. Now a perfect truth should be in harmony with experience in both these worlds. The microcosm must bear testimony to the macrocosm, and the macrocosm to the microcosm; physical truth must have its counterpart in the internal world, and the internal world must have its verification in the outside. Yet as a rule we find that many of these truths are constantly conflicting. At one period of the world’s history the “internals” became supreme, and they began to fight the “externals;” at the present time the “externals,” the physicists, have become supreme, and they have put down many claims of the psychologists and metaphysicians. So far as my little knowledge goes, I find that the really essential parts of psychology are in perfect accordance with the essential parts of modern physical knowledge.
It is not given to every individual to be great in every respect; it is not given to the same race, or nation, to be equally strong in the research of all the fields of knowledge. The modern European nations are very strong in their researches into external physical knowledge, but the ancient Europeans were weak in their researches into the internal part of man. On the other hand, the Orientals have not been very strong in their researches in the external physical world, but have excelled in their researches into the internal, and therefore we find that some of the Oriental theories are not in accordance with Occidental physics, neither is Occidental psychology in harmony with Oriental teachings on this subject. The Oriental physicists have been criticised by Occidental scientists. At the same time each rests on truth, and, as we stated before, real truth in any field of knowledge will not contradict itself, the truths internal are in harmony with the truths external.
We know the present theories of the Cosmos according to the modern astronomers and physicists, and at the same time we know how wofully they hurt the old school of theologians, and how every new scientific discovery that is made is as a bomb thrown into their house, and how they have attempted in every age to put down all these researches. In the first place, let us go over the psychological and scientific ideas of the Orientals as to cosmology and all that pertains to it, and you will find how wonderfully it is in accordance with all the latest discoveries of modern science, and when there is anything lacking you will find that it is on the side of modern science. We all use the word Nature, and the old Hindu philosophers called it by two different names, Prakriti, which is almost the same as the English word “nature,” and by the more scientific name, Avyaktam (“undifferentiated”), from which everything proceeds, out of which come atoms and molecules, matter and force, and mind and intellect. It is startling to find that the philosophers and metaphysicians of India ages ago stated that mind is but matter in a finer form, for what are our present materialists striving to do but to show that mind is as much a product of nature as the body? And so is thought; and we shall find by and by that the intellect also comes from the same nature which is called avyaktam, the undifferentiated.
The ancient teachers define avyaktam as the “equilibrium of the three forces,” one of which is called Sattva, the second Rajas and the third Tamas. Tamas, the lowest force, is that of attraction, a little higher is Rajas, that of repulsion, and the highest is the control of these two, Sattva, so that when the two forces, attraction and repulsion, are held in perfect control, or balance, by the Sattva, there is no creation, no movement; but as soon as this equilibrium is lost, the balance is disturbed and one of these forces gets stronger than the other. Then change and motion begin and all this evolution goes on. This state of things is going on cyclically, periodically; that is to say, there is a period of disturbance of the balance, when all these forces begin to combine and recombine, and this universe is projected; and there is also a period when everything has a tendency to revert to the primal state of equilibrium, and the time comes when a total absence of all manifestation is reached. Again, after a period, the whole thing is disturbed, projected outward, again it slowly comes out in the form of waves; for all motion in this universe is in the form of waves, successive rise and fall.
Some of these old philosophers taught that the whole universe quiets down for a period; others maintained that this quieting down applies only to systems. That is to say, that while our system here, this solar system, will quiet down and go back into that undifferentiated state, there are millions of other systems going the other way. I should rather follow the second opinion, that this quieting down is not simultaneous over the whole universe, but that in different parts different things are going on. But the principle remains the same, that all that we see, that Nature herself is progressing in successive rises and falls. The one stage, going back to the balance, to the perfect equilibrium, is called the end of a cycle. The whole Kalpa, the evolution and the involution, has been compared by theistic writers in India to the inbreathing and outbreathing of God; God, as it were, breathes out the universe, and it returns into Him again. When it quiets down, what becomes of the universe? It still exists, only in finer form, as it is called in Sanskrit, in the “causal state” (Kârana Sarira). Causation, time and space are still there, only they are potential. This return to an undifferentiated condition constitutes involution. Involution and evolution are eternally going on, so that when we speak of a beginning, we refer only to the beginning of a cycle.
The most extraneous part of the universe is what in modern times we call gross matter. The ancient Hindus called it the Bhutas, the external elements. There is one element which according to them is eternal; every other element is produced out of this one, and this eternal element is called Âkâsa. It is somewhat similar to the modern idea of ether, though not exactly the same. This is the primal element out of which everything proceeds, and along with this element there was something called Prâna: we shall see what it is as we go on. This prâna and this âkâsa eternally exist, and they combine and recombine and form all manifestation. Then at the end of the cycle everything subsides and goes back to the unmanifested form of âkâsa and prâna. There is in the Rig Veda, the oldest scriptures in existence, a beautiful passage describing creation, and it is most poetical—“When there was neither ought nor nought, when darkness was rolling over darkness, what existed?” and the answer is given, “It (the Eternal One) then existed without motion.” Prâna and âkâsa were latent in that Eternal One, but there was no phenomenal manifestation. This state is called Avyaktam, which literally means “without vibration,” or unmanifested. At the beginning of a new cycle of evolution, this avyaktam begins to vibrate and blow after blow is given by prâna to the âkâsa. This causes condensation and gradually, through the forces of attraction and repulsion, atoms are formed. These in turn condense into molecules and finally into the different elements of Nature.
We generally find these things very curiously translated; people do not go to the ancient philosophers or to their commentators for their translation and have not learning enough to understand for themselves. They translate the elements as “air,” “fire,” and so on. If they would go to the commentators they would find that they do not mean anything of the sort. The âkâsa, made to vibrate by the repeated blows of prâna, produces vâyu or the vibratory state of the âkâsa, which in turn produces gaseous matter. The vibrations growing more and more rapid generate heat, which in Sanskrit is called tejas. Gradually it is cooled off and the gaseous substance becomes solid, prithivi. We had first âkâsa, then came heat, then it became liquified, and when still more condensed appeared as solid matter. It goes back to the unmanifested condition in exactly the reverse way. The solids will be converted into liquid and the liquid into a mass of heat, that will slowly go back into the gaseous state, disintegration of atoms will begin, finally equilibrium of all forces will be reached, vibration will stop and the cycle of evolution which in Sanskrit is called Kalpa is at an end. We know from modern astronomy that this earth and sun of ours are undergoing the same transitions, this solid earth will melt down and become liquid once more, and will eventually go back to the gaseous state.
Prâna cannot work alone without the help of âkâsa. All that we know is that motion or vibration and every movement that we see is a modification of this prâna, and everything that we know in the form of matter, either as form or as resistance, is a modification of this âkâsa. This prâna cannot exist alone, or act without a medium, but in every state of it, whether as pure prâna, or when it changes into other forces of nature, say gravitation or centrifugal attraction, it can never be separate from âkâsa. You have never seen force without matter or matter without force; what we call force and matter being simply the gross manifestations of these same things, which, when superfine, we call prâna and âkâsa. Prâna you can call in English the life, or vital energy, but you must not restrict it to the life of man, nor should you identify it with the spirit, Âtman. Creation is without beginning and without end; it cannot have either, it is an eternal on-going.
The next question that comes is rather a fine one. Some European philosophers have asserted that this world exists because “I” exist, and if “I” do not exist, the world will not exist. Sometimes it is expressed in this way; they say, if all the people in the world were to die, and there were no more human beings, and no animals with powers of perception and intelligence, all manifestations would disappear. It seems paradoxical, but gradually we shall see clearly that this can be proved. But these European philosophers do not know the psychology of it, although they know the principle; modern philosophy has got only a glimpse of it.
First we will take another proposition of these old psychologists which is rather startling, that the grossest elements are the bhutas, but that all gross things are the results of fine ones. Everything that is gross is composed of a combination of minute things, so the bhutas must be composed of certain fine particles, called in Sanskrit the tanmâtras. I smell a flower; to smell that, something must come in contact with my nose; the flower is there and I do not see it move towards me; but without something coming in contact with my nose I cannot smell the flower. That which comes from the flower and into contact with my nose are the tanmâtras, fine molecules of that flower, so fine that no diminution can be perceived in the flower. So with heat, light, sight, and everything. These tanmâtras can again be subdivided into atoms. Different philosophers have different theories, and we know these are only theories, so we leave them out of discussion. Sufficient for us that everything gross is composed of things that are very, very minute. We first get the gross elements, which we feel externally, and composing them are the fine elements, which our organs touch, which come in contact with the nerves of the nose, eyes and ears. That ethereal wave which touches my eyes, I cannot see, yet I know it must come in contact with my optic nerve before I can see the light. So with hearing, we can never see the particles that come in contact with our ears, but we know that they must be there. What is the cause of these tanmâtras? A very startling and curious answer is given by our psychologists,—self-consciousness. That is the cause of these fine materials, and the cause of the organs. What are these organs? Here is first the eye, but the eye does not see. If the eyes did see, when a man is dead, and his eyes are still perfect, they would still be able to see. There is some change somewhere; something has gone out of the man, and that something, which really sees, of which the eye is the instrument, is called the organ. So this nose is an instrument, and there is an organ corresponding to it. Modern physiology can tell you what that is, a nerve centre in the brain. The eyes, ears, etc., are simply the external instruments. It may be said that the organs, Indriyas, as they are called in Sanskrit, are the real seats of perception.
What is the use of having one organ for the nose, and one for the eyes, and so on? Why will not one serve the purpose? To make it clear to you,—I am talking, and you are listening, and you do not see what is going on around you because the mind has attached itself to the organ of hearing, and has detached itself from the sight organ. If there were only one organ the mind would hear and see at the same time, it would see and hear and smell at the same time, and it would be impossible for it not to do all three at the same time. Therefore it is necessary that there should be separate organs for all these centres. This has been borne out by modern physiology. It is certainly possible for us to see and hear at the same time, but that is because the mind attaches itself partially to both centres, which are the organs. What are the instruments? We see that these are really made of the gross materials. Here they are,—eyes, nose, and ears, etc. What are the organs? They are also made of materials, because they are centres. Just as this body is composed of gross material for transforming prâna into different gross forces, so these finer organs behind, are composed of the fine elements, for the manufacture of prâna into the finer forces of perception and all kindred things. All these organs or indriyas combined, plus the internal instrument or antahkarana, are called the finer body of man,—the linga (or sûkshma) sarira.
It has a real form, because everything material must have a form. Behind the indriyas is what is called the manas, the chitta in vritti, what might be called the vibratory state of the mind, the unsettled state. If you throw a stone into a calm lake, first there will be vibration, and then resistance. For a moment the water will vibrate and then it will react on the stone. So, when any impression comes on the chitta, or “mind stuff,” it vibrates a little. This state of the mind is called the manas. Then comes the reaction, the will. There is another thing behind this will which accompanies all the acts of the mind, which is called egoism, the ahamkâra, the self-consciousness, which says “I am,” and behind that is what is called Buddhi, the intellect, the highest form of nature’s existence. Behind the intellect is the true Self of man, the Purusha, the pure, the perfect, who is alone the seer, and for whom is all this change. The Purusha is looking on at all these changes; he himself is never impure; but by implication, what the Vedantists call adhyâsam, by reflection, he appears to be impure. It is like a red flower held before a piece of crystal; the crystal will look red; or a blue flower and the crystal will look blue; and yet the crystal itself is colorless. We will take for granted that there are many selves; each self is pure and perfect, but it is all these various divisions of gross matter and fine matter that are imposing on the self, and making it variously colored. Why is nature doing all this? Nature is undergoing all these changes for the improvement of the soul; all this creation is for the benefit of the soul, so that it may be free. This immense book which we call the universe is stretched before man so that he may read, and come out, as an omniscient and omnipotent being. I must here tell you that some of our best psychologists do not believe in a personal God in the sense in which you believe in Him. The real father of our psychologists, Kapila, denies the existence of God as a Creator. His idea is that a personal God is quite unnecessary; Nature itself is sufficient to work out all that is good. What is called the “Design” theory he repudiated, and said a more childish theory was never advanced. But he admits a peculiar kind of God; he says we are all struggling to get free, and when man becomes free he can, as it were, melt away into Nature for the time being, only to come out at the beginning of the next cycle and be its ruler; come out an omniscient and omnipotent being. In that sense he can be called God; you and I and the humblest beings will be gods in different cycles. Kapila says such a God will be temporal, but an eternal God, eternally omnipotent and eternally ruler of the universe, cannot be. If there were such a God, there would be this difficulty: he must either be bound or free. A God who is perfectly free would not create; there would be no necessity. If he were bound, he would not create because he could not, he would be weak himself. So, in either case, there cannot be an omnipotent or omniscient eternal ruler. So wherever the word God is mentioned in our Scriptures, Kapila says it means those perfected souls who have become free. The Sânkhya system does not believe in the unity of all souls. Vedânta believes that all individual souls are united in one cosmic Being called Brahman, but Kapila, the founder of the Sânkhya, was dualistic. His analysis of the universe so far as it goes is really marvellous. He was the father of Hindu evolutionists, and all the later philosophical systems are simply outcomes of his thought.
According to this system all souls will regain their freedom and their natural rights, which are omnipotence and omniscience. Here the question may be asked, whence is this bondage of the souls? The Sânkhya says it is without beginning, but if it be without beginning it must also be without end, and we shall never be free. Kapila explains that this “without beginning” means not in a constant line. Nature is without beginning and without end, but not in the same sense as is the soul, because Nature has no individuality, just as a river flowing by us is every moment getting a fresh body of water, and the sum total of all these bodies of water is the river, so the river is not a constant quantity. Similarly everything in Nature is constantly changing, but the soul never changes. Therefore as Nature is always changing, it is possible for the soul to come out of its bondage. One theory of the Sânkhya is peculiar to this psychology. The whole of the universe is built upon the same plan as one single man, or one little being; so, just as I have a mind, there is also a cosmic mind. When this macrocosm evolves there must be first intelligence, then egoism, then the tanmâtras and the organs, and then the gross elements. The whole universe according to Kapila is one body, all that we see are the grosser bodies, and behind these are the finer bodies, and behind them, a universal egoism, and behind that a universal Intelligence, but all this is in Nature, all this is manifestation of Nature, not outside of Nature. Each one of us is a part of that cosmic consciousness. There is a sum-total of intelligence out of which we draw what we require, so there is a sum-total of mental force in the universe out of which we are drawing eternally, but the seed for the body must come from the parents. The theory includes heredity and reincarnation too. The material is given to the soul out of which to manufacture a body, but that material is given by hereditary transmission from the parents.
We come now to that proposition that in this process there is an involution and an evolution. All is evolved out of that indiscreet Nature; and then is involved again and becomes Avyaktam. It is impossible, according to the Sânkhyas, for any material thing to exist, which has not as its material some portion of consciousness. Consciousness is the material out of which all manifestation is made. The elucidation of this comes in our next lecture, but I will show how it can be proved. I do not know this table as it is, but it makes an impression; it comes to the eyes, then to the indriyas, and then to the mind; the mind then reacts, and that reaction is what I call the table. It is just the same as throwing a stone into a lake; the lake throws a wave against the stone; this wave is what we know. The waves coming out are all we know. In the same way the fashion of this wall is in my mind; what is external nobody knows; when I want to know it, it has to become that material which I furnish; I, with my own mind, have furnished the material for my eyes, and the something which is outside is only the occasion, the suggestion, and upon that suggestion I project my mind, and it takes the form of what I see. The question is, how do we all see the same things? Because we all have a part of this cosmic mind. Those who have mind will see the thing, and those who have not will not see it. This goes to show that since this universe has existed there has never been a want of mind, of that one cosmic mind. Every human being, every animal, is also furnished out of that cosmic mind, because it is always present and furnishing material for their formation.