Yoga as philosophy and religion

by Surendranath Dasgupta

Śabara.—The views of Kamārila and Prahhākara thus explicated are but elaborate explanations of the view of Śabara who states the whole theory in a single line—pūrvavarṇajanitasaṃskārasahito’ntyo varṇaḥ pratyāyakaḥ.

“The last letter together with the potency generated by the preceding letters is the cause of significance.”

Mahābhāshya and Kaiyaṭa.—After describing the view of those who are antagonistic to the sphoṭa theory it is necessary to mention the Vaiākaraṇa school which is in favour of it; thus we find that in explaining the following passage of Mahābhāshya,

“What is then a word? It is that which being pronounced one can understand specific objects such as those (cows) which have tail, hoofs, horns, etc.”

Kaiyata says: “The grammarians think that denotation belongs to words, as distinct from letters which are pronounced, for if each of the letters should denote the object, there would be no need of pronouncing the succeeding letters....”

The vaiyakaraṇas admit the significant force of names as distinguished from letters. For if the significant force be attributed to letters individually, then the first letter being quite sufficient to signify the object, the utterance of other letters becomes unnecessary; and according to this view if it is held that each letter has the generating power, then also they cannot do it simultaneously, since they are uttered one after another. On the view of manifestation, also, since the letters are manifested one after another, they cannot be collected together in due order; if their existence in memory is sufficient, then we should expect no difference of signification or meaning by the change of order in the utterance of the letters; that is “sara” ought to have the same meaning as “rasa.” So it must be admitted that the power of signification belongs to the sphoṭa as manifested by the nādas as has been described in detail in Vākyapadīya.

As the relation between the perceiving capacity and the object of perception is a constant one so also is the relation between the sphoṭa and the nāda as the manifested and the manifestor (Vākyapadīya 98). Just as the image varies corresponding to the variation of the reflector, as oil, water, etc., so also the reflected or manifested image differs according to the difference of the manifestor (Vāk. 100). Though the manifestation of letters, propositions and names occurs at one and the same time yet there seems to be a “before and after” according to the “before and after” of the nāda utterances (Vāk. 102). That which is produced through the union and disunion (of nādas or dhvanis) is called sphoṭa, whereas other sound-perceptions arising from sounds are called dhvanis (Vāk. 103). As by the movement of water the image of a thing situated elsewhere also appears to adopt the movement of the water and thus seems to move, so also the sphoṭa, though unchanging in itself, yet appears to suffer change in accordance with the change of nāda which manifests it (Vāk. 49). As there are no parts of the letters themselves so the letters also do not exist as parts of the name. There is again no ultimate or real difference between names and propositions (Vāk. 73). It is only in popular usage that they are regarded as different. That which others regard as the most important thing is regarded as false here, for propositions only are here regarded as valid (Vāk. 74). Though the letters which manifest names and propositions are altogether different from them, yet their powers often appear as quite undifferentiated from them (Vāk. 89). Thus when propositions are manifested by the cause of the manifestation of propositions they appear to consist of parts when they first appear before the mind. Thus, though the pada-sphoṭa or the vākya-sphoṭa does not really consist of parts, yet, as the powers of letters cannot often be differentiated from them, they also appear frequently to be made up of parts (Vāk. 91).

The Yoga View.—As to the relation of the letters to the sphoṭa, Vācaspati says, in explaining the Bhāshya, that each of the letters has the potentiality of manifesting endless meanings, but none of them can do so individually; it is only when the letter-form sounds are pronounced in succession by one effort of speech that the individual letters by their own particular contiguity or distance from one another can manifest a complete word called the sphoṭa. Thus owing to the variation of contiguity of distance by intervention from other letter-form sounds any letter-form sound may manifest any meaning or word; for the particular order and the association of letter-form sounds depend upon the particular output of energy required in uttering them. The sphoṭa is thus a particular modification of buddhi, whereas the letter-form sounds have their origin in the organ of speech when they are uttered, and the sense of hearing when they are heard. It is well to note here that the theory that the letters themselves have endless potentiality and can manifest any word-sphoṭas, according to their particular combinations and recombinations, is quite in keeping with the main metaphysical doctrine of the Pātañjala theory.

Vākya-sphoṭa.—What is said here of the letter-form sounds and the śabda-sphoṭas also applies to the relation that the śabda-sphoṭas bear to propositions or sentences. A word or name does not stand alone; it always exists as combined with other words in the form of a proposition. Thus the word “tree” whenever it is pronounced carries with it the notion of a verb “asti” or “exists,” and thereby demonstrates its meaning. The single word “tree” without any reference to any other word which can give it a propositional form has no meaning. Knowledge of words always comes in propositional forms; just as different letter-form sounds demonstrate by their mutual collocation a single word or śabda-sphoṭa, so the words also by their mutual combination or collocation demonstrate judgmental or propositional significance or meaning. As the letters themselves have no meaning so the words themselves have also no meaning; it is only by placing them side by side in a particular order that a meaning dawns in the mind. When single words are pronounced they associate other words with themselves and thus appear to signify a meaning. But though a single word is sufficient by association with other words to carry a meaning, yet sentences or propositions should not be deemed unnecessary for they serve to specialise that meaning (niyamārthe anuvādaḥ). Thus “cooks” means that any subject makes something the object of his cooking. The mention of the subject “Devadatta” and the object “rice” only specialises the subject and the object. Though the analysis of a sentence into the words of which it is constituted is as imaginary as the analysis of a word into the letter-form sounds, it is generally done in order to get an analytical view of the meaning of a sentence—an imaginary division of it as into cases, verbs, etc.

Abhihitānvayavada and Anvitābhidhānavāda.—This reminds us of the two very famous theories about the relation of sentences to words, viz. the “Abhihitānvayavāda” and the “Anvitābhidhānavāda.” The former means that words themselves can express their separate meanings by the function abhidhā or denotation; these are subsequently combined into a sentence expressing one connected idea. The latter means that words only express a meaning as parts of a sentence, and as grammatically connected with each other; they only express an action or something connected with action; in “sāmānaya”, “bring the cow”—“gām” does not properly mean “gotva” but “ānayanānvitagotva,” that is, the bovine genus as connected with bringing. We cannot have a case of a noun without some governing verb and vice versa—(Sarvadarśana-saṃgraha, Cowell).