This is a modern-English version of Hinduism and Buddhism, An Historical Sketch, Vol. 2, originally written by Eliot, Charles.
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Transcriber’s Note:
Transcription Note:
Excerpts from the Preface to the book from Volume 1, regarding the method of transcription used.
Excerpts from the Preface to the book from Volume 1, regarding the transcription method used.
“In the following pages I have occasion to transcribe words belonging to many oriental languages in Latin characters. Unfortunately a uniform system of transcription, applicable to all tongues, seems not to be practical at present. It was attempted in the Sacred Books of the East, but that system has fallen into disuse and is liable to be misunderstood. It therefore seems best to use for each language the method of transcription adopted by standard works in English dealing with each, for French and German transcriptions, whatever their merits may be as representations of the original sounds, are often misleading to English readers, especially in Chinese. For Chinese I have adopted Wade's system as used in Giles's Dictionary, for Tibetan the system of Sarat Chandra Das, for Pali that of the Pali Text Society and for Sanskrit that of Monier-Williams's Sanskrit Dictionary, except that I write ś instead of s. Indian languages however offer many difficulties: it is often hard to decide whether Sanskrit or vernacular forms are more suitable and in dealing with Buddhist subjects whether Sanskrit or Pali words should be used. I have found it convenient to vary the form of proper names according as my remarks are based on Sanskrit or on Pali literature, but this obliges me to write the same word differently in different places, e.g. sometimes Ajâtaśatru and sometimes Ajâtasattu, just as in a book dealing with Greek and Latin mythology one might employ both Herakles and Hercules. Also many Indian names such as Ramayana, Krishna, nirvana have become Europeanized or at least are familiar to all Europeans interested in Indian literature. It seems pedantic to write them with their full and accurate complement of accents and dots and my general practice is to give such words in their accurate spelling (Râmâyana, etc.) when they are first mentioned and also in the notes but usually to print them in their simpler and unaccented forms. I fear however that my practice in this matter is not entirely consistent since different parts of the book were written at different times.”
“In the following pages, I need to write words from many Eastern languages using Latin characters. Unfortunately, a single transcription system that works for all languages doesn’t seem practical right now. An attempt was made in the Sacred Books of the East, but that system has fallen out of use and can be easily misunderstood. Therefore, it seems best to use the transcription methods adopted by standard English works for each language. French and German transcriptions, regardless of how good they are at representing the original sounds, can often mislead English readers, especially with Chinese. For Chinese, I’ve chosen Wade's system as used in Giles's Dictionary; for Tibetan, I’ll use Sarat Chandra Das's system; for Pali, the one from the Pali Text Society; and for Sanskrit, Monier-Williams's Sanskrit Dictionary, except I use ś instead of s. Indian languages, however, present many challenges: it’s often tough to decide whether to use Sanskrit or vernacular forms, and when discussing Buddhist topics, whether to use Sanskrit or Pali words. I find it useful to adapt the form of proper names depending on whether my notes come from Sanskrit or Pali literature, which means I may write the same word differently in different sections, e.g., sometimes Ajâtaśatru and sometimes Ajâtasattu, much like a book about Greek and Roman mythology might use both Herakles and Hercules. Additionally, many Indian names like Ramayana, Krishna, nirvana have become Westernized or at least are familiar to all Europeans interested in Indian literature. It seems overly formal to write them with all the correct accents and dots, so I generally spell out such words accurately (Râmâyana, etc.) when they are first mentioned and in the notes but usually print them in simpler, unaccented forms. However, I worry that my approach isn’t entirely consistent since different parts of this book were written at different times.”
LIST OF ABBREVIATIONS [From Volume 1]
LIST OF ABBREVIATIONS [From Volume 1]
The following are the principal abbreviations used:
The following are the main abbreviations used:
Ep. Ind. Epigraphia India.
Ep. Ind. Epigraphia India.
E.R.E. Encyclopedia of Religion and Ethics (edited by Hastings).
E.R.E. Encyclopedia of Religion and Ethics (edited by Hastings).
I.A. Indian Antiquary.
I.A. Indian Antiquary.
J.A. Journal Asiatique.
J.A. Asian Journal.
J.A.O.S. Journal of the American Oriental Society.
J.A.O.S. Journal of the American Oriental Society.
J.R.A.S. Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society.
J.R.A.S. Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society.
P.T.S. Pali Text Society.
P.T.S. Pali Text Society.
S.B.E. Sacred Books of the East (Clarendon Press).
S.B.E. Sacred Books of the East (Clarendon Press).
HINDUISM AND BUDDHISM
AN HISTORICAL SKETCH
BY
BY
SIR CHARLES ELIOT
In three volumes
VOLUME II
ROUTLEDGE & KEGAN PAUL LTD
Broadway House, 68-74 Carter Lane,
London, E.C.4.
First published 1921
Reprinted 1954
Reprinted 1957
Reprinted 1962
PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BY
LUND HUMPHRIES
LONDON - BRADFORD
CONTENTS
BOOK IV
THE MAHAYANA
CHAPTER |
PAGE |
|
XVI | MAIN FEATURES OF THE MAHAYANA | 3 |
XVII | BODHISATTVAS | 7 |
XVIII | THE BUDDHAS of MAHAYANISM | 26 |
XIX | MAHAYANIST METAPHYSICS | 36 |
XX | MAHAYANIST SCRIPTURES | 47 |
XXI | CHRONOLOGY OF THE MAHAYANA | 63 |
XXII | FROM KANISHKA TO VASUBANDHU | 76 |
XXIII | INDIAN BUDDHISM AS SEEN BY THE CHINESE PILGRIMS | 90 |
XXIV | DECADENCE OF BUDDHISM IN INDIA | 107 |
BOOK V
HINDUISM
BOOK IV
THE MAHAYANA
CHAPTER XVI
MAIN FEATURES OF THE MAHAYANA
The obscurest period in the history of Buddhism is that which follows the reign of Asoka, but the enquirer cannot grope for long in these dark ages without stumbling upon the word Mahayana. This is the name given to a movement which in its various phases may be regarded as a philosophical school, a sect and a church, and though it is not always easy to define its relationship to other schools and sects it certainly became a prominent aspe [4] ct of Buddhism in India about the beginning of our era besides achieving enduring triumphs in the Far East. The word[1] signifies Great Vehicle or Carriage, that is a means of conveyance to salvation, and is contrasted with Hinayana, the Little Vehicle, a name bestowed on the more conservative party though not willingly accepted by them. The simplest description of the two Vehicles is that given by the Chinese traveller I-Ching (635-713 A.D.) who saw them both as living realities in India. He says[2] "Those who worship Bodhisattvas and read Mahayana Sutras are called Mahayanists, while those who do not do this are called Hinayanists." In other words, the Mahayanists have scriptures of their own, not included in the Hinayanist Canon and adore superhuman beings in the stage of existence immediately below Buddhahood and practically differing little from Indian deities. Many characteristics could be added to I-Ching's description but they might not prove universally true of the Mahayana nor entirely absent from the Hinayana, for however divergent the two Vehicles may have become when separated geographically, for instance in Ceylon and Japan, it is clear that when they were in contact, as in India and China, the distinction was not always sharp. But in general the Mahayana was more popular, not in the sense of being simpler, for parts of its teaching were exceedingly abstruse, but in the sense of striving to invent or include doctrines agreeable to the masses. It was less monastic than the older Buddhism, and more emotional; warmer in charity, more personal in devotion, more ornate in art, literature and ritual, more disposed to evolution and development, whereas the Hinayana was conservative and rigid, secluded in its cloisters and open to the plausible if unjust accusation of selfishness. The two sections are sometimes described as northern and southern Buddhism, but except as a rough description of their distribution at the present day, this distinction is not accurate, for the Mahayana penetrated to Java, while the Hinayana reached Central Asia and China. But it is true that the development of the Mahayana was due to influences prevalent in northern India and not equally prevalent in the South. The terms Pali and Sanskrit Buddhism are convenient and as accurate as can be expected of any nomenclature covering so large a field.
The most obscure period in Buddhism's history is the time after Asoka's reign, but anyone searching through these dark ages won't take long to come across the term Mahayana. This refers to a movement that can be seen as a philosophical school, a sect, and a church in its various forms. While it's not always easy to clarify its connection to other schools and sects, it definitely became a major aspect of Buddhism in India around the beginning of our era and achieved lasting success in the Far East. The word[4] means Great Vehicle, which is a means of transport to salvation, and stands in contrast to Hinayana, the Little Vehicle—this name was given to the more conservative group, though they didn't accept it willingly. The simplest way to describe the two Vehicles comes from the Chinese traveler I-Ching (635-713 A.D.), who viewed them as living realities in India. He said[1] "Those who worship Bodhisattvas and read Mahayana Sutras are called Mahayanists, while those who do not are called Hinayanists." In other words, Mahayanists have their own scriptures, which aren't part of the Hinayanist Canon, and they venerate superhuman beings just below Buddhahood that are quite similar to Indian deities. Many characteristics could be added to I-Ching's description, but they might not universally apply to Mahayana or be completely absent from Hinayana. Even though the two Vehicles may have become very different when separated geographically, like in Ceylon and Japan, it’s clear that when they were in contact, as in India and China, the differences weren’t always clear-cut. Generally, Mahayana was more popular—not because it was simpler, as some of its teachings are quite complex, but because it tried to create or include beliefs appealing to the general public. It was less focused on monastic life than earlier Buddhism and was more emotional; it offered more charity, had a more personal devotion, was more decorative in art, literature, and rituals, and was more inclined toward change and development. In contrast, Hinayana was conservative and strict, withdrawn in its monasteries, and open to the seemingly fair but unfair label of selfishness. The two groups are sometimes referred to as northern and southern Buddhism, but aside from being a rough way to describe their current distribution, this distinction isn't accurate, as Mahayana spread to Java while Hinayana reached Central Asia and China. However, it's true that Mahayana's development was influenced by trends more common in northern India than in the South. The terms Pali and Sanskrit Buddhism are helpful and as accurate as can be expected for a designation covering such a vast area.
Though European writers usually talk of two Yânas or Vehicles—the great and the little—and though this is clearly the important distinction for historical purposes, yet Indian and Chinese Buddhists frequently enumerate three. These are the Śrâvakayâna, the vehicle of the ordinary Bhikshu who hopes to become an Arhat, the Pratyekabuddhayâna for the rare beings who are able to become Buddhas but do not preach the law to others, and in contrast to both of these the Mahayana or vehicle of Buddhas and Bodhisattvas. As a rule these three Vehicles are not regarded as hostile or even incompatible. Thus the Lotus sutra,[3] maintains that there is really but one vehicle though by a wise concession to human weakness the Buddha lets it appear that there are three to suit divers tastes. And the Mahayana is not a single vehicle but rather a train comprising many carriages of different classes. It has an unfortunate but distinct later phase known in Sanskrit as Mantrayâna and Vajrayâna but generally described by Europeans as Tantrism. This phase took some of the worst features in Hinduism, [5]such as spells, charms, and the worship of goddesses, and with misplaced ingenuity fitted them into Buddhism. I shall treat of it in a subsequent chapter, for it is chronologically late. The silence of Hsüan Chuang and I-Ching implies that in the seventh century it was not a noticeable aspect of Indian Buddhism.
Though European writers usually mention two Yânas or Vehicles—the great and the small—and while this distinction is clearly important for historical reasons, Indian and Chinese Buddhists often describe three. These are the Śrâvakayâna, the vehicle for the ordinary Bhikshu aspiring to become an Arhat, the Pratyekabuddhayâna for the rare individuals who can achieve Buddhahood but do not share the teachings with others, and, in contrast to both, the Mahayana or vehicle of Buddhas and Bodhisattvas. Generally, these three Vehicles are not seen as hostile or even incompatible. The Lotus sutra,[3] argues that there is actually only one vehicle, although the Buddha allows it to appear as if there are three to cater to different preferences. Furthermore, the Mahayana is not a singular vehicle but rather a train made up of many carriages of various types. It has an unfortunate but distinct later phase known in Sanskrit as Mantrayâna and Vajrayâna, but commonly referred to by Europeans as Tantrism. This phase adopted some of the most negative aspects of Hinduism, [5]such as spells, charms, and the worship of goddesses, and awkwardly incorporated them into Buddhism. I will discuss it in a later chapter, as it is chronologically more recent. The silence of Hsüan Chuang and I-Ching suggests that, in the seventh century, it was not a prominent feature of Indian Buddhism.
Although the record of the Mahayana in literature and art is clear and even brilliant, it is not easy either to trace its rise or connect its development with other events in India. Its annals are an interminable list of names and doctrines, but bring before us few living personalities and hence are dull. They are like a record of the Christian Church's fight against Arians, Monophysites and Nestorians with all the great figures of Byzantine history omitted or called in question. Hence I fear that my readers (if I have any) may find these chapters repellent, a mist of hypotheses and a catalogue of ancient paradoxes. I can only urge that if the history of the Mahayana is uncertain, its teaching fanciful and its scriptures tedious, yet it has been a force of the first magnitude in the secular history and art of China, Japan and Tibet and even to-day the most metaphysical of its sacred books, the Diamond Cutter, has probably more readers than Kant and Hegel.
Although the Mahayana's impact on literature and art is clear and even impressive, tracing its origins or connecting its development to other events in India isn't easy. Its history is a long list of names and ideas, but it doesn't bring to life many individual personalities, making it rather dull. It's akin to a record of the Christian Church's struggles against Arians, Monophysites, and Nestorians, with all the key figures of Byzantine history left out or questioned. Because of this, I worry that my readers (if I have any) might find these chapters off-putting, a fog of theories and a list of old paradoxes. I can only emphasize that while the history of the Mahayana may be uncertain, its teachings may seem fanciful, and its scriptures often lengthy, it has been a significant force in the secular history and art of China, Japan, and Tibet. Even today, one of its most philosophical texts, the Diamond Cutter, likely has more readers than Kant and Hegel.
Since the early history of the Mahayana is a matter for argument rather than precise statement, it will perhaps be best to begin with some account of its doctrines and literature and proceed afterwards to chronology. I may, however, mention that general tradition connects it with King Kanishka and asserts that the great doctors Aśvaghosha and Nâgârjuna lived in and immediately after his reign. The attitude of Kanishka and of the Council which he summoned towards the Mahayana is far from clear and I shall say something about this difficult subject below. Unfortunately his date is not beyond dispute for while a considerable consensus of opinion fixes his accession at about 78 A.D., some scholars place it earlier and others in the second century A.D.[4] Apart from this, it appears established that the Sukhâvatî-vyûha which is definitely Mahayanist was translated into Chinese between 147 and 186 A.D. We may assume that it was then already well known and had been composed some time before, so that, whatever Kanishka's date may [6]have been, Mahayanist doctrines must have been in existence about the time of the Christian era, and perhaps considerably earlier. Naturally no one date like a reign or a council can be selected to mark the beginning of a great school. Such a body of doctrine must have existed piecemeal and unauthorized before it was collected and recognized and some tenets are older than others. Enlarging I-Ching's definition we may find in the Mahayana seven lines of thought or practice. All are not found in all sects and some are shared with the Hinayana but probably none are found fully developed outside the Mahayana. Many of them have parallels in the contemporary phases of Hinduism.
Since the early history of Mahayana is more about debate than clear facts, it's probably best to start with an overview of its teachings and literature before moving on to the timeline. However, it’s worth mentioning that tradition links it to King Kanishka and claims that the influential figures Aśvaghosha and Nâgârjuna lived during and right after his reign. The stance of Kanishka and the Council he called about Mahayana is quite unclear, and I’ll touch on this complex issue later. Unfortunately, his exact dates are disputed; while a significant number of scholars agree that he became king around 78 A.D., some argue for an earlier date and others suggest it was in the second century A.D.[4] Aside from this, it’s established that the Sukhâvatî-vyûha, which is certainly Mahayanist, was translated into Chinese between 147 and 186 A.D. We can assume that it was already well known and had been written some time before, meaning that, regardless of Kanishka's exact dates, Mahayanist teachings must have been around at the time of the Christian era, and possibly much earlier. Naturally, you can't pinpoint a single date, like a reign or a council, to mark the start of such a significant school. This set of teachings likely existed in bits and pieces without formal recognition before it was gathered and acknowledged, and some beliefs are older than others. Expanding on I-Ching's definition, we can identify seven lines of thought or practice within Mahayana. Not all of these are present in every sect, and some overlap with Hinayana, but likely none are fully developed outside of Mahayana. Many of them have similarities in the current forms of Hinduism.
1. A belief in Bodhisattvas and in the power of human beings to become Bodhisattvas.
1. A belief in Bodhisattvas and in the ability of people to become Bodhisattvas.
2. A code of altruistic ethics which teaches that everyone must do good in the interest of the whole world and make over to others any merit he may acquire by his virtues. The aim of the religious life is to become a Bodhisattva, not to become an Arhat.
2. A code of selfless ethics that teaches everyone to do good for the sake of the whole world and to share any credit they earn from their good qualities with others. The goal of the spiritual life is to become a Bodhisattva, not to become an Arhat.
3. A doctrine that Buddhas are supernatural beings, distributed through infinite space and time, and innumerable. In the language of later theology a Buddha has three bodies and still later there is a group of five Buddhas.
3. A belief that Buddhas are supernatural beings, existing throughout infinite space and time, and countless in number. In later theological terms, a Buddha has three bodies, and eventually, there's a classification of five Buddhas.
4. Various systems of idealist metaphysics, which tend to regard the Buddha essence or Nirvana much as Brahman is regarded in the Vedanta.
4. Different systems of idealist metaphysics consider Buddha essence or Nirvana similarly to how Brahman is viewed in Vedanta.
5. A canon composed in Sanskrit and apparently later than the Pali Canon.
5. A collection created in Sanskrit that seems to be later than the Pali Canon.
6. Habitual worship of images and elaboration of ritual. There is a dangerous tendency to rely on formulæ and charms.
6. Regular worship of images and complex rituals. There's a risky tendency to depend on formulas and charms.
7. A special doctrine of salvation by faith in a Buddha, usually Amitâbha, and invocation of his name. Mahayanism can exist without this doctrine but it is tolerated by most sects and considered essential by some.
7. A unique belief in salvation through faith in a Buddha, typically Amitâbha, along with the calling of his name. Mahayanism can exist without this belief, but it is accepted by most sects and seen as essential by some.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Sanskrit, Mahâyâna; Chinese, Ta Ch'êng (pronounced Tai Shêng in many southern provinces); Japanese, Dai-jō Tibetan, Theg-pa-chen-po; Mongolian, Yäkä-külgän; Sanskrit, Hînayâna; Chinese, Hsiao-Ch'êng; Japanese, Shō-jō Tibetan, Theg-dman; Mongolian Ütśükän-külgän. In Sanskrit the synonyms agrayâna and uttama-yâna are also found.
[1] Sanskrit, Mahâyâna; Chinese, Ta Ch'êng (pronounced Tai Shêng in many southern provinces); Japanese, Dai-jō Tibetan, Theg-pa-chen-po; Mongolian, Yäkä-külgän; Sanskrit, Hînayâna; Chinese, Hsiao-Ch'êng; Japanese, Shō-jō Tibetan, Theg-dman; Mongolian Ütśükän-külgän. In Sanskrit, the synonyms agrayâna and uttama-yâna are also found.
[2] Record of Buddhist practices. Transl. Takakusu, 1896, p. 14. Hsüan Chuang seems to have thought that acceptance of the Yogâcâryabhûmi (Nanjio, 1170) was essential for a Mahayanist. See his life, transl. by Beal, p. 39, transl. by Julien, p. 50.
[2] Record of Buddhist practices. Translated by Takakusu, 1896, p. 14. Hsüan Chuang appeared to believe that accepting the Yogâcâryabhûmi (Nanjio, 1170) was crucial for a Mahayanist. Refer to his life, translated by Beal, p. 39, translated by Julien, p. 50.
CHAPTER XVII
BODHISATTVAS
Let us now consider these doctrines and take first the worship of Bodhisattvas. This word means one whose essence is knowledge but is used in the technical sense of a being who is in process of obtaining but has not yet obtained Buddhahood. The Pali Canon shows little interest in the personality of Bodhisattvas and regards them simply as the preliminary or larval form of a Buddha, either Śâkyamuni[5] or some of his predecessors. It was incredible that a being so superior to ordinary humanity as a Buddha should be suddenly produced in a human family nor could he be regarded as an incarnation in the strict sense. But it was both logical and edifying to suppose that he was the product of a long evolution of virtue, of good deeds and noble resolutions extending through countless ages and culminating in a being superior to the Devas. Such a being awaited in the Tushita heaven the time fixed for his appearance on earth as a Buddha and his birth was accompanied by marvels. But though the Pali Canon thus recognizes the Bodhisattva as a type which, if rare, yet makes its appearance at certain intervals, it leaves the matter there. It is not suggested that saints should try to become Bodhisattvas and Buddhas, or that Bodhisattvas can be helpers of mankind.[6] But both these trains of thought are natural developments of the older ideas and soon made themselves prominent. It is a characteristic doctrine of Mahayanism that men can try and should try to become Bodhisattvas.
Let’s now look at these beliefs, starting with the worship of Bodhisattvas. This term refers to someone whose essence is knowledge but is used technically to describe a being who is on the path to achieving, but has not yet reached, Buddhahood. The Pali Canon shows little interest in the personality of Bodhisattvas and treats them simply as the preliminary or developmental stage of a Buddha, whether it’s Śâkyamuni[5] or some of his predecessors. It seems improbable for a being as superior to ordinary humans as a Buddha to suddenly emerge from a human lineage, nor can he be seen as a direct incarnation in a strict sense. However, it makes sense and is inspiring to think that he results from a long evolution of virtue, good actions, and noble intentions spanning countless ages, culminating in a being greater than the Devas. Such a being waits in Tushita heaven for the right moment to appear on earth as a Buddha, and his birth is marked by wonders. While the Pali Canon acknowledges the Bodhisattva as a type that, although rare, does appear at certain times, it stops there. It does not suggest that saints should strive to become Bodhisattvas or Buddhas, nor that Bodhisattvas can be helpers of humanity.[6] Yet both of these ideas naturally evolved from earlier concepts and soon gained prominence. A defining belief of Mahayanism is that people can and should aim to become Bodhisattvas.
In the Pali Canon we hear of Arhats, Pacceka Buddhas, and perfect Buddhas. For all three the ultimate goal is the same, namely Nirvana, but a Pacceka Buddha is greater than an Arhat, because he has greater intellectual powers though he is not omniscient, and a perfect Buddha is greater still, partly because he is omniscient and partly because he saves others. But if we admit that the career of the Buddha is better and nobler, and also that it is, as the Introduction to the Jâtaka recounts, simply the result of an earnest resolution to school himself and help others, kept firmly through the long chain of existences, there is nothing illogical or presumptuous in making our goal not the quest of personal salvation, but the attainment of Bodhisattvaship, that is the state of those who may aspire to become Buddhas. In fact the Arhat, engrossed in his own salvation, is excused only by his humility and is open to the charge of selfish desire, since the passion for Nirvana is an ambition like any other and the quest for salvation can be best followed by devoting oneself entirely to others. But though my object here is to render intelligible the Mahayanist point of view including its objections to Hinayanism, I must defend the latter from the accusation of selfishness. The vigorous and authoritative character of Gotama led him to regard all mankind as patients requiring treatment and to emphasize the truth that they could cure themselves if they would try. But the Buddhism of the Pali Canon does not ignore the duties of loving and instructing others;[7] it merely insists on man's power to save himself if properly instructed and bids him do it at once: "sell all that thou hast and follow me." And the Mahayana, if less self-centred, has also less self-reliance, and self-discipline. It is more human and charitable, but also more easygoing: it teaches the believer to lean on external supports which if well chosen may be a help, but if trusted without discrimination become paralyzing abuses. And if we look at the abuses of both systems the fossilized monk of the Hinayana will compare favourably [9] with the tantric adept. It was to the corruptions of the Mahayana rather than of the Hinayana that the decay of Buddhism in India was due.
In the Pali Canon, we learn about Arhats, Pacceka Buddhas, and perfect Buddhas. All three aim for the same ultimate goal: Nirvana. However, a Pacceka Buddha is considered superior to an Arhat because he possesses greater intellectual abilities, even though he isn't all-knowing. A perfect Buddha is even greater, partly because he is all-knowing and partly because he helps others. If we acknowledge that the Buddha's journey is more admirable, and as mentioned in the Introduction to the Jâtaka, it stems from a genuine commitment to self-improvement and assisting others across countless lifetimes, then it's logical and not pretentious to make our goal the pursuit of Bodhisattvaship, which is the state of aspiring to become Buddhas. In fact, the Arhat, focused solely on personal salvation, can be criticized for selfish desire, as the longing for Nirvana is an ambition like any other; true salvation is best pursued by dedicating oneself completely to others. While my aim here is to clarify the Mahayanist perspective, including its criticisms of Hinayanism, I must defend the latter against allegations of selfishness. Gotama’s dynamic and commanding nature led him to see all humanity as individuals in need of help, highlighting the fact that they can heal themselves if they make the effort. However, Buddhism within the Pali Canon does not overlook the importance of loving and educating others; it simply emphasizes that individuals can save themselves when properly guided and encourages them to act immediately: "sell all that you have and follow me." Although Mahayana is less self-focused, it tends to allow for less self-reliance and self-discipline. It is more compassionate and lenient, teaching followers to depend on external support, which can be beneficial if wisely selected, but if taken for granted, it can lead to detrimental excesses. When comparing the faults of both systems, the rigid monk of the Hinayana stands out more favorably [9] than the tantric practitioner. The decline of Buddhism in India can be attributed more to the corruptions within Mahayana than those in Hinayana.
The career of the Bodhisattva was early divided into stages (bhûmi) each marked by the acquisition of some virtue in his triumphant course. The stages are variously reckoned as five, seven and ten. The Mahâvastu,[8] which is the earliest work where the progress is described, enumerates ten without distinguishing them very clearly. Later writers commonly look at the Bodhisattva's task from the humbler point of view of the beginner who wishes to learn the initiatory stages. For them the Bodhisattva is primarily not a supernatural being or even a saint but simply a religious person who wishes to perform the duties and enjoy the privileges of the Church to the full, much like a communicant in the language of contemporary Christianity. We have a manual for those who would follow this path, in the Bodhicaryâvatâra of Śântideva, which in its humility, sweetness and fervent piety has been rightly compared with the De Imitatione Christi. In many respects the virtues of the Bodhisattva are those of the Arhat. His will must be strenuous and concentrated; he must cultivate the strictest morality, patience, energy, meditation and knowledge. But he is also a devotee, a bhakta: he adores all the Buddhas of the past, present and future as well as sundry superhuman Bodhisattvas, and he confesses his sins, not after the fashion of the Pâtimokkha, but by accusing himself before these heavenly Protectors and vowing to sin no more.
The Bodhisattva's career was early divided into stages (bhûmi), each defined by the attainment of a certain virtue in his successful journey. These stages are counted as five, seven, or ten. The Mahâvastu,[8] which is the earliest text that describes this progress, lists ten stages, although it doesn't clearly separate them. Later writers often view the Bodhisattva's role from the perspective of beginners who want to learn the initial stages. For them, the Bodhisattva isn't seen as a supernatural being or even a saint, but as a religious person who wants to fully engage in the responsibilities and benefits of the Church, similar to a communicant in modern Christianity. The Bodhicaryâvatâra by Śântideva serves as a guide for those who want to follow this path; it’s noted for its humility, sweetness, and sincere piety, and has been aptly compared to the De Imitatione Christi. In many ways, the virtues of the Bodhisattva mirror those of the Arhat. His resolve must be strong and focused; he should practice the highest standards of morality, patience, energy, meditation, and knowledge. However, he is also a devotee, a bhakta: he reveres all the Buddhas from the past, present, and future, along with various superhuman Bodhisattvas, and he acknowledges his sins, not in the manner of the Pâtimokkha, but by admitting them to these celestial Protectors and promising to sin no more.
Śântideva lived in the seventh century[9] but tells us that he follows the scriptures and has nothing new to say. This seems to be true for, though his book being a manual of devotion presents its subject-matter in a dogmatic form, its main ideas are stated and even elaborated in the Lotus. Not only are eminent figures in the Church, such as Sâriputra and Ânanda, there designated as future Buddhas, but the same dignity is predicted wholesale for five hundred and again for two thousand [10]monks while in Chapter x is sketched the course to be followed by "young men or young ladies of good family" who wish to become Bodhisattvas.[10] The chief difference is that the Bodhicaryâvatâra portrays a more spiritual life, it speaks more of devotion, less of the million shapes that compose the heavenly host: more of love and wisdom, less of the merits of reading particular sûtras. While rendering to it and the faith that produced it all honour, we must remember that it is typical of the Mahayana only in the sense that the De Imitatione Christi is typical of Roman Catholicism, for both faiths have other sides.
Śântideva lived in the seventh century[9] but says he follows the scriptures and has nothing new to contribute. This seems accurate because, although his book serves as a manual of devotion and presents its content in a dogmatic way, its main ideas are also found and expanded upon in the Lotus. Not only are prominent figures in the Church, like Sâriputra and Ânanda, identified there as future Buddhas, but the same honor is predicted for five hundred and again for two thousand [10]monks. Chapter x outlines the path for "young men or young ladies of good family" who want to become Bodhisattvas.[10] The key difference is that the Bodhicaryâvatâra describes a more spiritual life, focusing more on devotion and less on the many forms that make up the heavenly host: it emphasizes love and wisdom over the merits of reading specific sûtras. While we should give respect to it and the faith that inspired it, we must remember that it is representative of Mahayana only in the way that the De Imitatione Christi is representative of Roman Catholicism, since both faiths encompass broader aspects.
Śântideva's Bodhisattva, when conceiving the thought of Bodhi or eventual supreme enlightenment to be obtained, it may be, only after numberless births, feels first a sympathetic joy in the good actions of all living beings. He addresses to the Buddhas a prayer which is not a mere act of commemoration, but a request to preach the law and to defer their entrance into Nirvana. He then makes over to others whatever merit he may possess or acquire and offers himself and all his possessions, moral and material, as a sacrifice for the salvation of all beings. This on the one hand does not much exceed the limits of dânam or the virtue of giving as practised by Śâkyamuni in previous births according to the Pali scriptures, but on the other it contains in embryo the doctrine of vicarious merit and salvation through a saviour. The older tradition admits that the future Buddha (e.g. in the Vessantara birth-story) gives all that is asked from him including life, wife and children. To consider the surrender and transfer of merit (pattidâna in Pali) as parallel is a natural though perhaps false analogy. But the transfer of Karma is not altogether foreign to Brahmanic thought, for it is held that a wife may share in her husband's Karma nor is it wholly unknown to Sinhalese Buddhism.[11] After thus deliberately rejecting all personal success and selfish aims, the neophyte makes a vow (praṇidhâna) to acquire enlightenment for the good of all beings and not to swerve from the rules of life and faith requisite for this end. He is then a "son [11]of Buddha," a phrase which is merely a natural metaphor for saying that he is one of the household of faith[12] but still paves the way to later ideas which make the celestial Bodhisattva an emanation or spiritual son of a celestial Buddha.
Śântideva's Bodhisattva, when thinking about achieving Bodhi or ultimate enlightenment, which may take countless lifetimes, first feels a deep joy in the positive actions of all living beings. He offers a prayer to the Buddhas that isn’t just a simple commemoration but a plea for them to teach the law and postpone their entry into Nirvana. He then dedicates any merit he has or will gain to others and offers himself along with all his belongings, both moral and material, as a sacrifice for the salvation of all beings. On one hand, this aligns closely with the virtue of giving as practiced by Śâkyamuni in his past lives according to the Pali scriptures, but on the other hand, it also hints at the idea of vicarious merit and salvation through a savior. The older tradition shows that the future Buddha (for example, in the Vessantara birth story) gives everything asked of him, including his life, wife, and children. Considering the surrender and transfer of merit (pattidâna in Pali) as the same is a common but possibly misleading comparison. However, the transfer of Karma isn’t entirely unfamiliar in Brahmanic thought, as it is believed that a wife can partake in her husband's Karma, and it isn’t completely unheard of in Sinhalese Buddhism.[11] After consciously rejecting all personal success and selfish goals, the neophyte makes a vow (praṇidhâna) to achieve enlightenment for the benefit of all beings and to adhere to the principles of life and faith necessary for this purpose. He then becomes a "son [11]of Buddha," which is simply a natural metaphor indicating that he is part of the community of faith[12] but also paves the way for later concepts that portray the celestial Bodhisattva as an emanation or spiritual son of a celestial Buddha.
Asanga gives[13] a more technical and scholastic description of the ten bhûmis or stages which mark the Bodhisattva's progress towards complete enlightenment and culminate in a phase bearing the remarkable but ancient name of Dharmamegha known also to the Yoga philosophy. The other stages are called: muditâ (joyful): vimalâ (immaculate): prabhâkarî (light giving): arcismatî (radiant): durjaya (hard to gain): abhimukhî (facing, because it faces both transmigration and Nirvana): dûramgamâ (far-going): acalâ (immovable): sâdhumatî (good minded).
Asanga gives[13] a more technical and academic explanation of the ten bhûmis or stages that represent the Bodhisattva's journey towards complete enlightenment, culminating in a phase known as Dharmamegha, which also has roots in Yoga philosophy. The other stages are called: muditâ (joyful): vimalâ (immaculate): prabhâkarî (light giving): arcismatî (radiant): durjaya (hard to achieve): abhimukhî (facing, as it confronts both transmigration and Nirvana): dûramgamâ (far-reaching): acalâ (immovable): sâdhumatî (good-minded).
The incarnate Buddhas and Bodhisattvas of Tibet are a travesty of the Mahayana which on Indian soil adhered to the sound doctrine that saints are known by their achievements as men and cannot be selected among infant prodigies.[14] It was the general though not universal opinion that one who had entered on the career of a Bodhisattva could not fall so low as to be reborn in any state of punishment, but the spirit of humility and self-effacement which has always marked the Buddhist ideal tended to represent his triumph as incalculably distant. Meanwhile, although in the whirl of births he was on the upward grade, he yet had his ups and downs and there is no evidence that Indian or Far Eastern Buddhists arrogated to themselves special claims and powers on the ground that they were well advanced in the career of Buddhahood. The vow to suppress self and follow the light not only in this life but in all future births contains an element of faith or fantasy, but has any religion formed a nobler or even equivalent picture of the soul's destiny or built a better staircase from the world of men to the immeasurable spheres of the superhuman?
The Buddhas and Bodhisattvas of Tibet represent a distorted version of Mahayana, which in India upheld the idea that saints are recognized by their accomplishments as individuals and cannot be chosen from talented children.[14] While it was generally believed—though not universally—that someone who embarked on the path of a Bodhisattva could not be reborn into a state of suffering, the spirit of humility and selflessness that has always characterized the Buddhist ideal led to the view that true success was immensely far off. Despite being on a positive trajectory through the cycle of rebirths, he still experienced ups and downs, and there’s no evidence that Indian or East Asian Buddhists claimed any special status or powers based on their advancement toward Buddhahood. The commitment to suppress ego and seek enlightenment not only in this life but in all future existences includes an element of faith or imagination, but has any religion ever presented a nobler or even comparable vision of the soul's journey or created a better pathway from the human realm to the vast heights of the divine?
One aspect of the story of Sâkyamuni and his antecedent births thus led to the idea that all may become Buddhas. An [12] equally natural development in another direction created celestial and superhuman Bodhisattvas. The Hinayana held that Gotama, before his last birth, dwelt in the Tushita heaven enjoying the power and splendour of an Indian god and it looked forward to the advent of Maitreya. But it admitted no other Bodhisattvas, a consequence apparently of the doctrine that there can only be one Buddha at a time. But the luxuriant fancy of India, which loves to multiply divinities, soon broke through this restriction and fashioned for itself beautiful images of benevolent beings who refuse the bliss of Nirvana that they may alleviate the sufferings of others.[15] So far as we can judge, the figures of these Bodhisattvas took shape just about the same time that the personalities of Vishnu and Śiva were acquiring consistency. The impulse in both cases is the same, namely the desire to express in a form accessible to human prayer and sympathetic to human emotion the forces which rule the universe. But in this work of portraiture the Buddhists laid more emphasis on moral and spiritual law than did the Brahmans: they isolated in personification qualities not found isolated in nature. Śiva is the law of change, of death and rebirth, with all the riot of slaughter and priapism which it entails: Vishnu is the protector and preserver, the type of good energy warring against evil, but the unity of the figure is smothered by mythology and broken up into various incarnations. But Avalokita and Mañjuśrî, though they had not such strong roots in Indian humanity as Śiva and Vishnu, are genii of purer and brighter presence. They are the personifications of kindness and knowledge. Though manifold in shape, they have little to do with mythology, and are analogous to the archangels of Christian and Jewish tradition and to the Amesha Spentas of Zoroastrianism. With these latter they may have some historical connection, for Persian ideas may well have influenced Buddhism about the time of the Christian era. However difficult it may be to prove the foreign origin of Bodhisattvas, few of them have a clear origin in India and all of them [13] are much better known in Central Asia and China. But they are represented with the appearance and attributes of Indian Devas, as is natural, since even in the Pali Canon Devas form the Buddha's retinue. The early Buddhists considered that these spirits, whether called Bodhisattvas or Devas, had attained their high position in the same way as Śâkyamuni himself, that is by the practice of moral and intellectual virtues through countless existences, but subsequently they came to be regarded as emanations or sons of superhuman Buddhas. Thus the Kâraṇḍa-vyûha relates how the original Âdi-Buddha produced Avalokita by meditation and how he in his turn produced the universe with its gods.
One aspect of the story of Sâkyamuni and his previous lives led to the idea that anyone can become a Buddha. An [12] equally natural development in another direction created celestial and superhuman Bodhisattvas. The Hinayana tradition believed that Gotama, before his final birth, lived in the Tushita heaven, enjoying the power and glory of an Indian god, and it anticipated the coming of Maitreya. However, it did not recognize any other Bodhisattvas, apparently due to the belief that there can be only one Buddha at a time. Yet, the rich imagination of India, which delights in multiplying deities, soon broke through this limitation and created beautiful images of compassionate beings who forsake the bliss of Nirvana to relieve the suffering of others.[15] As far as we can tell, the figures of these Bodhisattvas began to take shape around the same time that the figures of Vishnu and Śiva were becoming more defined. The motivation in both cases is similar: to express, in a form that people can pray to and that resonates with human emotion, the forces that govern the universe. However, in this artistic work, Buddhists placed greater emphasis on moral and spiritual law than Brahmans did: they personified qualities that are not separately recognized in nature. Śiva represents the law of change, of death and rebirth, with all the chaos and intensity that entails; Vishnu symbolizes protection and preservation, embodying good energy fighting against evil. But Vishnu's unity is overshadowed by mythology and fragmented into various incarnations. On the other hand, Avalokita and Mañjuśrî, though lacking the deep ties to Indian culture that Śiva and Vishnu have, are more radiant and pure beings. They embody kindness and knowledge. Despite their various forms, they are not heavily tied to mythology and are comparable to the archangels of Christian and Jewish traditions and to the Amesha Spentas of Zoroastrianism. They may have historical connections with the latter, as Persian ideas likely influenced Buddhism around the time of the Christian era. While it may be challenging to prove the foreign origins of Bodhisattvas, few of them have a clear origin in India, and all of them [13] are much better known in Central Asia and China. However, they are depicted with the appearance and attributes of Indian Devas, which makes sense since even in the Pali Canon, Devas are part of the Buddha's entourage. Early Buddhists believed that these spirits, whether referred to as Bodhisattvas or Devas, achieved their elevated status in the same way as Śâkyamuni himself, through the practice of moral and intellectual virtues across countless existences. Later, however, they came to be seen as emanations or sons of superhuman Buddhas. Thus the Kâraṇḍa-vyûha describes how the original Âdi-Buddha created Avalokita through meditation and how Avalokita in turn created the universe along with its gods.
Millions of unnamed Bodhisattvas are freely mentioned and even in the older books copious lists of names are found,[16] but two, Avalokita and Mañjuśrî, tower above the rest, among whom only few have a definite personality. The tantric school counts eight of the first rank. Maitreya (who does not stand on the same footing as the others), Samantabhadra, Mahâsthâna-prâpta and above all Kshitigarbha, have some importance, especially in China and Japan.
Millions of unnamed Bodhisattvas are often mentioned, and even in older texts, there are extensive lists of names,[16] but two stand out above the rest: Avalokita and Mañjuśrî, among whom only a few have a distinct personality. The tantric school recognizes eight of the highest rank. Maitreya (who doesn't hold the same status as the others), Samantabhadra, Mahâsthâna-prâpta, and especially Kshitigarbha, are particularly significant, especially in China and Japan.
Avalokita[17] in many forms and in many ages has been one of the principal deities of Asia but his origin is obscure. His main attributes are plain. He is the personification of divine mercy and pity but even the meaning of his name is doubtful. In its full form it is Avalokiteśvara, often rendered the Lord who looks down (from heaven). This is an appropriate title for the God of Mercy, but the obvious meaning of the participle avalokita in Sanskrit is passive, the Lord who is looked at. Kern[18] thinks it may mean the Lord who is everywhere visible as a very present help in trouble, or else the Lord of View, like the epithet Dṛishtiguru applied to Śiva. Another form of the name is Lokeśvara or Lord of the world and this suggests that avalokita may be a synonym of loka, meaning the visible universe. It has also been suggested that the name may refer to the small image of Amitâbha which is set in his diadem and thus looks down on him. But such small images set in the head of a larger figure are not distinctive of Avalokita: they are found [14] in other Buddhist statues and paintings and also outside India, for instance at Palmyra. The Tibetan translation of the name[19] means he who sees with bright eyes. Hsüan Chuang's rendering Kwan-tzǔ-tsai[20] expresses the same idea, but the more usual Chinese translation Kuan-yin or Kuan-shih-yin, the deity who looks upon voices or the region of voices, seems to imply a verbal misunderstanding. For the use of Yin or voice makes us suspect that the translator identified the last part of Avalokiteśvara not with Îśvara lord but with svara sound.[21]
Avalokita[17] has appeared in various forms and throughout many ages as one of the main deities in Asia, but his origins are unclear. His key traits are straightforward. He embodies divine mercy and compassion, but even the interpretation of his name is uncertain. In its full form, it is Avalokiteśvara, often translated as the Lord who looks down (from heaven). This is fitting for the God of Mercy, but the obvious meaning of the participle avalokita in Sanskrit is passive, suggesting the Lord who is being looked at. Kern[18] proposes it could mean the Lord who is always visible as a very present help in times of trouble, or possibly the Lord of View, much like the title Dṛishtiguru used for Śiva. Another version of the name is Lokeśvara or Lord of the World, which implies that avalokita might be synonymous with loka, referring to the visible universe. There's also the idea that the name could point to the small image of Amitâbha set in his crown, which gazes down at him. However, such small images placed on the head of a larger figure are not unique to Avalokita; they can also be found [14] in other Buddhist statues and paintings, as well as outside India, for example, at Palmyra. The Tibetan translation of the name[19] means he who sees with bright eyes. Hsüan Chuang's translation Kwan-tzǔ-tsai[20] conveys the same concept, but the more common Chinese translations Kuan-yin or Kuan-shih-yin, the deity who looks upon voices or the region of voices, seem to suggest a misunderstanding. The use of Yin or voice leads us to think that the translator confused the last part of Avalokiteśvara not with Îśvara lord but with svara sound.[21]
Avalokiteśvara is unknown to the Pali Canon and the Milinda Pañha. So far as I can discover he is not mentioned in the Divyâvadâna, Jâtakamâlâ or any work attributed to Aśvaghosha. His name does not occur in the Lalita-vistara but a list of Bodhisattvas in its introductory chapter includes Mahâkaruṇâcandin, suggesting Mahâkaruna, the Great Compassionate, which is one of his epithets. In the Lotus[22] he is placed second in the introductory list of Bodhisattvas after Mañjuśrî. But Chapter XXIV, which is probably a later addition, is dedicated to his praises as Samantamukha, he who looks every way or the omnipresent. In this section his character as the all-merciful saviour is fully developed. He saves those who call on him from shipwreck, and execution, from robbers and all violence and distress. He saves too from moral evils, such as passion, hatred and folly. He grants children to women who worship him. This power, which is commonly exercised by female deities, is worth remarking as a hint of his subsequent transformation into a goddess. For the better achievement of his merciful deeds, he assumes all manner of forms, and appears in the guise of a Buddha, a Bodhisattva, a Hindu deity, a goblin, or a Brahman and in fact in any shape. This chapter was translated into Chinese before 417 A.D. and therefore can hardly be later than 350. He is also mentioned in the Sukhâvatî-vyûha. [15] The records of the Chinese pilgrims Fa-Hsien and Hsüan Chuang[23] indicate that his worship prevailed in India from the fourth till the seventh century and we are perhaps justified in dating its beginnings at least two centuries earlier. But the absence of any mention of it in the writings of Aśvaghosha is remarkable.[24]
Avalokiteśvara is not found in the Pali Canon or the Milinda Pañha. As far as I can tell, he isn't referenced in the Divyâvadâna, Jâtakamâlâ, or any texts attributed to Aśvaghosha. His name doesn’t appear in the Lalita-vistara, but a list of Bodhisattvas in the introductory chapter includes Mahâkaruṇâcandin, which suggests Mahâkaruna, the Great Compassionate, one of his titles. In the Lotus[22], he is listed second among Bodhisattvas after Mañjuśrî. However, Chapter XXIV, which likely is a later addition, is dedicated to his praises as Samantamukha, meaning "he who looks every way" or "the omnipresent." In this section, his role as the all-merciful savior is fully detailed. He rescues those who call on him from shipwrecks, executions, robbers, and all forms of violence and distress. He also saves from moral issues like passion, hatred, and ignorance. He grants children to women who worship him. This ability, commonly associated with female deities, hints at his later transformation into a goddess. To perform his merciful acts, he takes on various forms, appearing as a Buddha, a Bodhisattva, a Hindu deity, a goblin, or a Brahman, and truly in any shape. This chapter was translated into Chinese before 417 A.D., so it can hardly be later than 350. He is also mentioned in the Sukhâvatî-vyûha. [15] The records of the Chinese pilgrims Fa-Hsien and Hsüan Chuang[23] show that his worship was prevalent in India from the fourth to the seventh century, and it's reasonable to date its origins at least two centuries earlier. However, it's noteworthy that there is no mention of it in the writings of Aśvaghosha.[24]
Avalokita is connected with a mountain called Potala or Potalaka. The name is borne by the palace of the Grand Lama at Lhassa and by another Lamaistic establishment at Jehol in north China. It reappears in the sacred island of P´u-t´o near Ningpo. In all these cases the name of Avalokita's Indian residence has been transferred to foreign shrines. In India there were at least two places called Potala or Potalaka—one at the mouth of the Indus and one in the south. No certain connection has been traced between the former and the Bodhisattva but in the seventh century the latter was regarded as his abode. Our information about it comes mainly from Hsüan Chuang[25] who describes it when speaking of the Malakuta country and as near the Mo-lo-ya (Malaya) mountain. But apparently he did not visit it and this makes it probable that it was not a religious centre but a mountain in the south of which Buddhists in the north wrote with little precision.[26] There is no evidence that Avalokita was first worshipped on this Potalaka, though he is often associated with mountains such as Kapota in Magadha and Valavatî in Katâha.[27] In fact the connection of Potala with Avalokita remains a mystery.
Avalokita is linked to a mountain called Potala or Potalaka. This name is carried by the palace of the Grand Lama in Lhasa and by another Lamaistic center in Jehol, northern China. It also appears in the sacred island of P’u-t’o near Ningpo. In all these instances, the name of Avalokita's Indian home has been transferred to foreign shrines. In India, there were at least two locations known as Potala or Potalaka—one at the mouth of the Indus River and another in the south. No definite connection has been established between the former and the Bodhisattva, but in the seventh century, the latter was considered his home. Our knowledge about it mainly comes from Hsüan Chuang[25] who describes it while discussing the Malakuta region, stating it is near the Mo-lo-ya (Malaya) mountain. However, it seems he did not actually visit it, which suggests it was not a religious center but rather a mountain in the south that Buddhists in the north described with little accuracy.[26] There is no evidence that Avalokita was originally worshipped on this Potalaka, even though he is often connected with mountains like Kapota in Magadha and Valavatî in Katâha.[27] In fact, the link between Potala and Avalokita remains a mystery.
Avalokita has, like most Bodhisattvas, many names. Among the principal are Mahâkaruna, the Great Compassionate one, Lokanâtha or Lokeśvara, the Lord of the world, and Padmapâni, or lotus-handed. This last refers to his appearance as portrayed in statues and miniatures. In the older works of art his figure [16] is human, without redundant limbs, and represents a youth in the costume of an Indian prince with a high jewelled chignon, or sometimes a crown. The head-dress is usually surmounted by a small figure of Amitâbha. His right hand is extended in the position known as the gesture of charity.[28] In his left he carries a red lotus and he often stands on a larger blossom. His complexion is white or red. Sometimes he has four arms and in later images a great number. He then carries besides the lotus such objects as a book, a rosary and a jug of nectar.[29]
Avalokita has, like most Bodhisattvas, many names. Among the main ones are Mahâkaruna, the Great Compassionate One, Lokanâtha or Lokeśvara, the Lord of the World, and Padmapâni, or lotus-handed. The last name refers to his appearance as shown in statues and miniatures. In older artworks, his figure [16] is human, without extra limbs, and depicts a young man dressed as an Indian prince with a high jeweled topknot, or sometimes a crown. The headpiece is usually adorned with a small figure of Amitâbha. His right hand is lifted in the gesture known as the gesture of charity.[28] In his left hand, he holds a red lotus and often stands on a larger blossom. His complexion is either white or red. Sometimes, he has four arms, and in later images, he may have many more. In addition to the lotus, he carries objects like a book, a rosary, and a jug of nectar.[29]
The images with many eyes and arms seem an attempt to represent him as looking after the unhappy in all quarters and stretching out his hands in help.[30] It is doubtful if the Bodhisattvas of the Gandhara sculptures, though approaching the type of Avalokita, represent him rather than any other, but nearly all the Buddhist sites of India contain representations of him which date from the early centuries of our era[31] and others are preserved in the miniatures of manuscripts.[32]
The images with multiple eyes and arms seem to portray him as watching over the suffering everywhere and reaching out his hands to offer help.[30] It's unclear if the Bodhisattvas in the Gandhara sculptures, although similar to the type of Avalokita, actually represent him specifically or someone else. However, almost all the Buddhist sites in India feature depictions of him that date back to the early centuries of our era[31] and others are preserved in illustrated manuscripts.[32]
He is not a mere adaptation of any one Hindu god. Some of his attributes are also those of Brahmâ. Though in some late texts he is said to have evolved the world from himself, his characteristic function is not to create but, like Vishnu, to save and like Vishnu he holds a lotus. But also he has the title of Îśvara, which is specially applied to Śiva. Thus he does not issue from any local cult and has no single mythological pedigree but is the idea of divine compassion represented with such materials as the art and mythology of the day offered.
He isn’t just a version of any one Hindu god. Some of his qualities are also those of Brahmâ. Although some later texts say he created the world from himself, his main role is not to create but, like Vishnu, to save, and like Vishnu, he holds a lotus. He is also called Îśvara, a title specifically used for Śiva. Therefore, he doesn’t originate from any local worship and doesn’t have a single mythological background but represents the concept of divine compassion, shaped by the art and mythology available at that time.
He is often accompanied by a female figure Târâ.[33] In the tantric period she is recognized as his spouse and her images, common in northern India from the seventh century onwards, [17] show that she was adored as a female Bodhisattva. In Tibet Târâ is an important deity who assumes many forms and even before the tantric influence had become prominent she seems to have been associated with Avalokita. In the Dharmasangraha she is named as one of the four Devîs, and she is mentioned twice under the name of To-lo Pu-sa by Hsüan Chuang, who saw a statue of her in Vaisali and another at Tiladhaka in Magadha. This last stood on the right of a gigantic figure of Buddha, Avalokita being on his left.[34]
He is often accompanied by a female figure named Târâ.[33] In the tantric period, she is recognized as his wife, and her images, commonly found in northern India from the seventh century onwards, [17] show that she was revered as a female Bodhisattva. In Tibet, Târâ is an important deity who takes on many forms, and even before the significant tantric influence, she was associated with Avalokita. In the Dharmasangraha, she is named as one of the four Devîs, and she is mentioned twice under the name of To-lo Pu-sa by Hsüan Chuang, who saw a statue of her in Vaisali and another at Tiladhaka in Magadha. The latter stood to the right of a gigantic figure of Buddha, with Avalokita on his left.[34]
Hsüan Chuang distinguishes To-lo (Târâ) and Kuan-tzǔ-tsai. The latter under the name of Kuan-yin or Kwannon has become the most popular goddess of China and Japan, but is apparently a form of Avalokita. The god in his desire to help mankind assumes many shapes and, among these, divine womanhood has by the suffrage of millions been judged the most appropriate. But Târâ was not originally the same as Kuan-yin, though the fact that she accompanies Avalokita and shares his attributes may have made it easier to think of him in female form.[35]
Hsüan Chuang differentiates between To-lo (Târâ) and Kuan-tzǔ-tsai. The latter, known as Kuan-yin or Kwannon, has become the most popular goddess in China and Japan, but is seemingly a version of Avalokita. The god, wanting to assist humanity, takes on various forms, and among these, divine femininity has been deemed the most fitting by millions. However, Târâ wasn't originally the same as Kuan-yin, even though her association with Avalokita and sharing his qualities might have contributed to the perception of him in female form.[35]
The circumstances in which Avalokita became a goddess are obscure. The Indian images of him are not feminine, although his sex is hardly noticed before the tantric period. He is not a male deity like Krishna, but a strong, bright spirit and like the Christian archangels above sexual distinctions. No female form of him is reported from Tibet and this confirms the idea that none was known in India,[36] and that the change was made in China. It was probably facilitated by the worship of Târâ and of Hâritî, an ogress who was converted by the Buddha and is frequently represented in her regenerate state caressing a child. [18] She is mentioned by Hsüan Chuang and by I-Ching who adds that her image was already known in China. The Chinese also worshipped a native goddess called T'ien-hou or T'ou-mu. Kuan-yin was also identified with an ancient Chinese heroine called Miao-shên.[37] This is parallel to the legend of Ti-tsang (Kshitigarbha) who, though a male Bodhisattva, was a virtuous maiden in two of his previous existences. Evidently Chinese religious sentiment required a Madonna and it is not unnatural if the god of mercy, who was reputed to assume many shapes and to give sons to the childless, came to be thought of chiefly in a feminine form. The artists of the T'ang dynasty usually represented Avalokita as a youth with a slight moustache and the evidence as to early female figures does not seem to me strong,[38] though a priori I see no reason for doubting their existence. In 1102 a Chinese monk named P'u-ming published a romantic legend of Kuan-yin's earthly life which helped to popularize her worship. In this and many other cases the later developments of Buddhism are due to Chinese fancy and have no connection with Indian tradition.
The circumstances under which Avalokita became a goddess are unclear. The Indian representations of him are not feminine, although his gender was hardly acknowledged before the tantric period. He isn’t a male deity like Krishna, but rather a strong, bright spirit, similar to the Christian archangels who transcend sexual distinctions. No female version of him is reported from Tibet, which supports the idea that none existed in India,[36] and that the transformation occurred in China. This was likely encouraged by the worship of Târâ and Hâritî, an ogress who was converted by the Buddha and is often depicted in her renewed state, nurturing a child. [18] She is mentioned by Hsüan Chuang and by I-Ching, who adds that her image was already recognized in China. The Chinese also worshipped a local goddess named T'ien-hou or T'ou-mu. Kuan-yin was also associated with an ancient Chinese heroine called Miao-shên.[37] This parallels the legend of Ti-tsang (Kshitigarbha) who, despite being a male Bodhisattva, was a virtuous maiden in two of his past lives. Clearly, Chinese religious sentiment craved a Madonna, and it’s not surprising that the god of mercy, known for taking on many forms and for granting children to the childless, came to be viewed primarily in a feminine aspect. Artists of the T'ang dynasty typically depicted Avalokita as a young man with a light moustache, and the evidence regarding early female figures doesn’t seem particularly strong to me,[38] though I don’t have any reason to doubt their existence. In 1102, a Chinese monk named P'u-ming published a romantic tale about Kuan-yin's earthly life, which contributed to the popularity of her worship. In this and many other situations, the later developments of Buddhism stem from Chinese imagination and have no ties to Indian tradition.
Târâ is a goddess of north India, Nepal and the Lamaist Church and almost unknown in China and Japan. Her name means she who causes to cross, that is who saves, life and its troubles being by a common metaphor described as a sea. Târâ also means a star and in Puranic mythology is the name given to the mother of Buddha, the planet Mercury. Whether the name was first used by Buddhists or Brahmans is unknown, but after the seventh century there was a decided tendency to give Târâ the epithets bestowed on the Śaktis of Śiva and assimilate her to those goddesses. Thus in the list of her 108 names[39] she is described among other more amiable attributes as [19] terrible, furious, the slayer of evil beings, the destroyer, and Kâlî: also as carrying skulls and being the mother of the Vedas. Here we have if not the borrowing by Buddhists of a Śaiva deity, at least the grafting of Śaiva conceptions on a Bodhisattva.
Târâ is a goddess worshiped in northern India, Nepal, and the Lamaist Church, and she is mostly unknown in China and Japan. Her name means "she who helps cross over," referring to her role in saving lives, with life and its challenges often depicted as a sea. Târâ also means "a star" and is the name given to the mother of Buddha in Puranic mythology, as well as to the planet Mercury. It's unclear whether the name was first used by Buddhists or Brahmins, but after the seventh century, there was a noticeable trend to assign Târâ epithets usually given to the Śaktis of Śiva, integrating her with those goddesses. In her list of 108 names[39], she is described with various attributes, including fierce, furious, slayer of evil beings, destroyer, and Kâlî; she is also depicted as carrying skulls and being the mother of the Vedas. This suggests that, if not a direct borrowing of a Śaiva deity by Buddhists, there was at least a blending of Śaiva ideas with those of a Bodhisattva.
The second great Bodhisattva Mañjuśrî[40] has other similar names, such as Mañjunâtha and Mañjughosha, the word Mañju meaning sweet or pleasant. He is also Vagîśvara, the Lord of Speech, and Kumârabhûta, the Prince, which possibly implies that he is the Buddha's eldest son, charged with the government under his direction. He has much the same literary history as Avalokita, not being mentioned in the Pali Canon nor in the earlier Sanskrit works such as the Lalita-vistara and Divyâvadâna. But his name occurs in the Sukhâvatî-vyûha: he is the principal interlocutor in the Lankâvatâra sûtra and is extolled in the Ratna-karaṇḍaka-vyûha-sûtra.[41] In the greater part of the Lotus he is the principal Bodhisattva and instructs Maitreya, because, though his youth is eternal, he has known many Buddhas through innumerable ages. The Lotus[42] also recounts how he visited the depths of the sea and converted the inhabitants thereof and how the Lord taught him what are the duties of a Bodhisattva after the Buddha has entered finally into Nirvana. As a rule he has no consort and appears as a male Athene, all intellect and chastity, but sometimes Lakshmî or Sarasvatî or both are described as his consorts.[43]
The second great Bodhisattva Mañjuśrî[40] has other similar names, like Mañjunâtha and Mañjughosha, where “Mañju” means sweet or pleasant. He is also known as Vagîśvara, the Lord of Speech, and Kumârabhûta, the Prince, which might suggest that he is the Buddha's eldest son, tasked with leadership under his guidance. His literary background is similar to Avalokita’s, as he isn’t mentioned in the Pali Canon or in earlier Sanskrit texts like the Lalita-vistara and Divyâvadâna. However, his name appears in the Sukhâvatî-vyûha: he plays a key role in the Lankâvatâra sûtra and is praised in the Ratna-karaṇḍaka-vyûha-sûtra.[41] In much of the Lotus, he is the main Bodhisattva and teaches Maitreya, because, despite being eternally youthful, he has encountered many Buddhas over countless ages. The Lotus[42] also tells how he explored the depths of the ocean and transformed the residents there, and how the Lord explained to him the responsibilities of a Bodhisattva after the Buddha finally entered Nirvana. Typically, he has no partner and appears as a male Athena, embodying intellect and purity, but sometimes Lakshmî or Sarasvatî or both are said to be his companions.[43]
His worship prevailed not only in India but in Nepal, Tibet, China, Japan and Java. Fa-Hsien states that he was honoured in Central India, and Hsüan Chuang that there were stupas dedicated to him at Muttra.[44] He is also said to have been incarnate in Atîsa, the Tibetan reformer, and in Vairocana who introduced Buddhism to Khotan, but, great as is his benevolence, he is not so much the helper of human beings, which is Avalokita's special function, as the personification of thought,[20] knowledge, and meditation. It is for this that he has in his hands the sword of knowledge and a book. A beautiful figure from Java bearing these emblems is in the Berlin Museum.[45] Miniatures represent him as of a yellow colour with the hands (when they do not carry emblems) set in the position known as teaching the law.[46] Other signs which distinguish his images are the blue lotus and the lion on which he sits.
His worship was widespread not only in India but also in Nepal, Tibet, China, Japan, and Java. Fa-Hsien mentions that he was honored in Central India, and Hsüan Chuang notes that there were stupas dedicated to him at Muttra.[44] He is also said to have incarnated as Atîsa, the Tibetan reformer, and as Vairocana, who brought Buddhism to Khotan. However, despite his vast benevolence, he is less the helper of humanity, which is Avalokita's unique role, than the embodiment of thought,[20] knowledge, and meditation. This is why he holds the sword of knowledge and a book. A beautiful figure from Java carrying these symbols can be found in the Berlin Museum.[45] Miniatures depict him in a yellow color with his hands (when they aren’t holding emblems) in the position known as teaching the law.[46] Other distinguishing features of his images include the blue lotus and the lion on which he sits.
An interesting fact about Mañjuśrî is his association with China,[47] not only in Chinese but in late Indian legends. The mountain Wu-t'ai-shan in the province of Shan-si is sacred to him and is covered with temples erected in his honour.[48] The name (mountain of five terraces) is rendered in Sanskrit as Pancaśîrsha, or Pancaśikha, and occurs both in the Svayambhû Purâṇa and in the text appended to miniatures representing Mañjuśrî. The principal temple is said to have been erected between 471 and 500 A.D. I have not seen any statement that the locality was sacred in pre-Buddhist times, but it was probably regarded as the haunt of deities, one of whom—perhaps some spirit of divination—was identified with the wise Mañjuśrî. It is possible that during the various inroads of Græco-Bactrians, Yüeh-Chih, and other Central Asian tribes into India, Mañjuśrî was somehow imported into the pantheon of the Mahayana from China or Central Asia, and he has, especially in the earlier descriptions, a certain pure and abstract quality which recalls the Amesha-Spentas of [21] Persia. But still his attributes are Indian, and there is little positive evidence of a foreign origin. I-Ching is the first to tell us that the Hindus believed he came from China.[49] Hsüan Chuang does not mention this belief, and probably did not hear of it, for it is an interesting detail which no one writing for a Chinese audience would have omitted. We may therefore suppose that the idea arose in India about 650 A.D. By that date the temples of Wu-t'ai-Shan would have had time to become celebrated, and the visits paid to India by distinguished Chinese Buddhists would be likely to create the impression that China was a centre of the faith and frequented by Bodhisattvas.[50] We hear that Vajrabodhi (about 700) and Prajña (782) both went to China to adore Mañjuśrî. In 824 a Tibetan envoy arrived at the Chinese Court to ask for an image of Mañjuśrî, and later the Grand Lamas officially recognized that he was incarnate in the Emperor.[51] Another legend relates that Mañjuśrî came from Wu-t'ai-Shan to adore a miraculous lotus[52] that appeared on the lake which then filled Nepal. With a blow of his sword he cleft the mountain barrier and thus drained the valley and introduced civilization. There may be hidden in this some tradition of the introduction of culture into Nepal but the Nepalese legends are late and in their collected form do not go back beyond the sixteenth century.
An interesting fact about Mañjuśrî is his connection to China,[47] not only in Chinese but also in later Indian legends. The mountain Wu-t'ai-shan in the Shan-si province is sacred to him and is filled with temples built in his honor.[48] The name (mountain of five terraces) is translated in Sanskrit as Pancaśîrsha, or Pancaśikha, and appears both in the Svayambhû Purâṇa and in the text associated with miniatures depicting Mañjuśrî. The main temple is said to have been built between 471 and 500 A.D. I haven't seen any indication that the area was sacred before Buddhism, but it likely was viewed as a dwelling place for deities, one of whom—perhaps a spirit of divination—was identified with the wise Mañjuśrî. It's possible that during the various invasions by Græco-Bactrians, Yüeh-Chih, and other Central Asian tribes into India, Mañjuśrî was somehow brought into the Mahayana pantheon from China or Central Asia, and he has, especially in earlier descriptions, a certain pure and abstract quality that recalls the Amesha-Spentas of [21] Persia. Still, his attributes are Indian, and there's little solid evidence of foreign origins. I-Ching is the first to mention that the Hindus believed he came from China.[49] Hsüan Chuang doesn’t mention this belief and likely didn’t hear of it, as it’s a detail no one writing for a Chinese audience would have left out. Therefore, we can assume that this idea emerged in India around 650 A.D. By that time, the temples of Wu-t'ai-Shan would have become well-known, and the visits by noted Chinese Buddhists to India would likely reinforce the notion that China was a center of the faith and frequented by Bodhisattvas.[50] We know that Vajrabodhi (around 700) and Prajña (782) both traveled to China to worship Mañjuśrî. In 824, a Tibetan envoy came to the Chinese Court to request an image of Mañjuśrî, and later the Grand Lamas officially acknowledged that he was incarnate in the Emperor.[51] Another legend says that Mañjuśrî came from Wu-t'ai-Shan to worship a miraculous lotus[52] that appeared on the lake that once covered Nepal. With a stroke of his sword, he split the mountain barrier, draining the valley and bringing civilization. There may be some underlying tradition regarding the introduction of culture into Nepal, but the Nepalese legends are relatively recent and, in their collected form, don’t date back beyond the sixteenth century.
After Avalokita and Mañjuśrî the most important Bodhisattva is Maitreya,[53] also called Ajita or unconquered, who is the only one recognized by the Pali Canon.[54] This is because he does not stand on the same footing as the others. They are superhuman in their origin as well as in their career, whereas Maitreya is simply a being who like Gotama has lived innumerable lives and ultimately made himself worthy of Buddhahood which he awaits in heaven. There is no reason to doubt that Gotama regarded himself as one in [22] a series of Buddhas: the Pali scriptures relate that he mentioned his predecessors by name, and also spoke of unnumbered Buddhas to come.[55] Nevertheless Maitreya or Metteyya is rarely mentioned in the Pali Canon.[56] He is, however, frequently alluded to in the exegetical Pali literature, in the Anâgata-vaṃsa and in the earlier Sanskrit works such as the Lalita-vistara, the Divyâvadâna and Mahâvastu. In the Lotus he plays a prominent part, but still is subordinate to Mañjuśrî. Ultimately he was eclipsed by the two great Bodhisattvas but in the early centuries of our era he received much respect. His images are frequent in all parts of the Buddhist world: he was believed to watch over the propagation of the Faith,[57] and to have made special revelations to Asaṅga.[58] In paintings he is usually of a golden colour: his statues, which are often gigantic, show him standing or sitting in the European fashion and not cross-legged. He appears to be represented in the earliest Gandharan sculptures and there was a famous image of him in Udyâna of which Fa-Hsien (399-414 A.D.) speaks as if it were already ancient.[59] Hsüan Chuang describes it as well as a stupa erected[60] to commemorate Sâkyamuni's prediction that Maitreya would be his successor. On attaining Buddhahood he will become lord of a terrestrial paradise and hold three assemblies under a dragon flower tree,[61] at which all who have been good Buddhists in previous births will become Arhats. I-Ching speaks of meditating on the advent of Maitreya in language like that which Christian piety uses of the second coming of Christ and concludes a poem which is incorporated in his work with the aspiration "Deep as the depth of a lake be my pure and calm meditation. Let me look for the first meeting [23] under the Tree of the Dragon Flower when I hear the deep rippling voice of the Buddha Maitreya."[62] But messianic ideas were not much developed in either Buddhism or Hinduism and perhaps the figures of both Maitreya and Kalkî owe something to Persian legends about Saoshyant the Saviour.
After Avalokita and Mañjuśrî, the most important Bodhisattva is Maitreya,[53] also known as Ajita or the unconquered, who is the only one acknowledged by the Pali Canon.[54] This is because he doesn't share the same status as the others. They are superhuman in both their origins and their paths, whereas Maitreya is simply a being who, like Gotama, has lived countless lives and ultimately earned his right to Buddhahood, which he now awaits in heaven. There is no reason to doubt that Gotama saw himself as part of a series of Buddhas: the Pali scriptures report that he mentioned his predecessors by name and also spoke of countless Buddhas to come.[55] Nevertheless, Maitreya or Metteyya is rarely mentioned in the Pali Canon.[56] He is, however, often referred to in the exegetical Pali literature, in the Anâgata-vaṃsa, and in earlier Sanskrit works such as the Lalita-vistara, the Divyâvadâna, and Mahâvastu. In the Lotus, he has a significant role, but he is still subordinate to Mañjuśrî. Ultimately, he was overshadowed by the two great Bodhisattvas, but in the early centuries of our era, he was greatly respected. His images are common throughout the Buddhist world: he was believed to oversee the spread of the Faith,[57] and to have made special revelations to Asaṅga.[58] In paintings, he is typically depicted in golden hues: his statues, which are often massive, show him standing or sitting in a Western style rather than cross-legged. He appears to be depicted in some of the earliest Gandharan sculptures, and there was a famous image of him in Udyâna that Fa-Hsien (399-414 A.D.) described as though it were already ancient.[59] Hsüan Chuang describes it, along with a stupa built[60] to commemorate Sâkyamuni's prophecy that Maitreya would be his successor. Upon reaching Buddhahood, he will become the lord of a terrestrial paradise and hold three gatherings under a dragon flower tree,[61] where all who were good Buddhists in previous lives will become Arhats. I-Ching writes about meditating on Maitreya's coming using language similar to that of Christian piety regarding the second coming of Christ and concludes a poem included in his work with the hope, "As deep as the depth of a lake be my pure and calm meditation. Let me look forward to the first meeting [23] under the Tree of the Dragon Flower when I hear the deep rippling voice of the Buddha Maitreya."[62] However, messianic ideas were not extensively developed in Buddhism or Hinduism, and perhaps both Maitreya and Kalkî are influenced in part by Persian legends about Saoshyant the Savior.
The other Bodhisattvas, though lauded in special treatises, have left little impression on Indian Buddhism and have obtained in the Far East most of whatever importance they possess. The makers of images and miniatures assign to each his proper shape and colour, but when we read about them we feel that we are dealing not with the objects of real worship or even the products of a lively imagination, but with names and figures which have a value for picturesque but conventional art.
The other Bodhisattvas, while celebrated in specific writings, haven't made much of an impact on Indian Buddhism and have gained most of their significance in the Far East. The creators of images and miniatures give each one its proper shape and color, but when we read about them, it seems like we're engaging with names and figures that hold value for artistic representation rather than being objects of genuine worship or products of a vibrant imagination.
Among the best known is Samantabhadra, the all gracious,[63] who is still a popular deity in Tibet and the patron saint of the sacred mountain Omei in China, with which he is associated as Mañjuśrî with Wu-t́ai-shan. He is represented as green and riding on an elephant. In Indian Buddhism he has a moderately prominent position. He is mentioned in the Dharmasangraha and in one chapter of the Lotus he is charged with the special duty of protecting those who follow the law. But the Chinese pilgrims do not mention his worship.
Among the best known is Samantabhadra, the all-gracious,[63] who is still a popular deity in Tibet and the patron saint of the sacred mountain Omei in China, where he is associated with Mañjuśrî and Wu-t́ai-shan. He is depicted as green and riding an elephant. In Indian Buddhism, he holds a moderately prominent position. He is mentioned in the Dharmasangraha and in one chapter of the Lotus, where he is given the special duty of protecting those who follow the law. However, the Chinese pilgrims do not mention his worship.
Mahâsthâmaprâpta[64] is a somewhat similar figure. A chapter of the Lotus (XIX) is dedicated to him without however giving any clear idea of his personality and he is extolled in several descriptions of Sukhâvatî or Paradise, especially in the Amitâyurdhyâna-sûtra. Together with Amitâbha and Avalokita he forms a triad who rule this Happy Land and are often represented by three images in Chinese temples.
Mahâsthâmaprâpta[64] is a somewhat similar figure. A chapter of the Lotus (XIX) is dedicated to him, yet it doesn't really clarify his personality. He is praised in various descriptions of Sukhâvatî or Paradise, especially in the Amitâyurdhyâna-sûtra. Along with Amitâbha and Avalokita, he forms a triad that rules this Happy Land and is often depicted by three statues in Chinese temples.
Vajrapâṇi is mentioned in many lists of Bodhisattvas (e.g. in the Dharmasangraha) but is of somewhat doubtful position as Hsüan Chuang calls him a deva.[65] Historically his recognition as a Bodhisattva is interesting for he is merely Indra transformed into a Buddhist. The mysterious personages called Vajradhara and Vajrasattva, who in later times are even [24] identified with the original Buddha spirit, are further developments of Vajrapâṇi. He owes his elevation to the fact that Vajra, originally meaning simply thunderbolt, came to be used as a mystical expression for the highest truth.
Vajrapâṇi is included in many lists of Bodhisattvas (e.g. in the Dharmasangraha) but has a somewhat uncertain status since Hsüan Chuang refers to him as a deva.[65] His recognition as a Bodhisattva is noteworthy because he is essentially Indra reshaped into a Buddhist figure. The enigmatic figures known as Vajradhara and Vajrasattva, who in later periods are even identified with the original Buddha spirit, are further developments of Vajrapâṇi. His rise in status is due to the fact that Vajra, which originally meant simply thunderbolt, began to be used as a mystical term for the ultimate truth.
More important than these is Kshitigarbha, Ti-tsang or Jizō[66] who in China and Japan ranks second only to Kuan-yin. Visser has consecrated to him an interesting monograph[67] which shows what strange changes and chances may attend spirits and how ideal figures may alter as century after century they travel from land to land. We know little about the origin of Kshitigarbha. The name seems to mean Earth-womb and he has a shadowy counterpart in Akâśagarbha, a similar deity of the air, who it seems never had a hold on human hearts. The Earth is generally personified as a goddess[68] and Kshitigarbha has some slight feminine traits, though on the whole decidedly masculine. The stories of his previous births relate how he was twice a woman: in Japan he was identified with the mountain goddess of Kamado, and he helps women in labour, a boon generally accorded by goddesses. In the pantheon of India he played an inconspicuous part,[69] though reckoned one of the eight great Bodhisattvas, but met with more general esteem in Turkestan, where he began to collect the attributes afterwards defined in the Far East. It is there that his history and transformations become clear.
More important than these is Kshitigarbha, Ti-tsang, or Jizō[66] who in China and Japan is second only to Kuan-yin. Visser has dedicated an interesting monograph to him[67] that illustrates the strange changes and chances that spirits can undergo and how ideal figures can transform as they move from country to country over the centuries. We know very little about the origin of Kshitigarbha. The name seems to mean Earth-womb, and he has a shadowy counterpart in Akâśagarbha, a similar deity of the air, who apparently never captured human hearts. The Earth is generally personified as a goddess[68], and Kshitigarbha has some slight feminine traits, though he is mostly decidedly masculine. The tales of his previous lives say he was twice a woman: in Japan, he was associated with the mountain goddess of Kamado, and he assists women in labor, a favor typically granted by goddesses. In the Indian pantheon, he played a minor role,[69] although he is considered one of the eight great Bodhisattvas, but he was held in higher regard in Turkestan, where he began to gather the attributes that were later defined in the Far East. It is there that his history and transformations become clear.
He is primarily a deity of the nether world, but like Amitâbha and Avalokita he made a vow to help all living creatures and specially to deliver them from hell. The Taoists pictured hell as divided into ten departments ruled over by as many kings, and Chinese fancy made Ti-tsang the superintendent of these functionaries. He thus becomes not so much a Saviour as the kindly superintendent of a prison who preaches to the inmates and willingly procures their release. Then we hear of six Ti-tsangs, corresponding to the six worlds of sentient beings, the gracious spirit being supposed to multiply his personality in [25] order to minister to the wants of all. He is often represented as a monk, staff in hand and with shaven head. The origin of this guise is not clear and it perhaps refers to his previous births. But in the eighth century a monk of Chiu Hua[70] was regarded as an incarnation of Ti-tsang and after death his body was gilded and enshrined as an object of worship. In later times the Bodhisattva was confused with the incarnation, in the same way as the portly figure of Pu-tai, commonly known as the laughing Buddha, has been substituted for Maitreya in Chinese iconography.
He is mainly a deity of the underworld, but like Amitâbha and Avalokita, he made a vow to help all living beings, especially to rescue them from hell. Taoists depicted hell as split into ten sections, each ruled by a king, and Chinese tradition assigned Ti-tsang as the supervisor of these rulers. Therefore, he becomes not just a Saviour but more like a compassionate warden of a prison who counsels the inmates and actively seeks their release. We then hear of six Ti-tsangs, corresponding to the six realms of sentient beings, with the benevolent spirit thought to multiply his essence to cater to everyone's needs. He is often shown as a monk, holding a staff and with a shaved head. The origin of this appearance isn't clear, and it may relate to his past lives. However, in the eighth century, a monk from Chiu Hua was considered an incarnation of Ti-tsang, and after his death, his body was gilded and enshrined as an object of worship. In later times, the Bodhisattva was mixed up with this incarnation, similar to how the chubby figure of Pu-tai, commonly known as the laughing Buddha, has been mistaken for Maitreya in Chinese iconography.
In Japan the cult of the six Jizōs became very popular. They were regarded as the deities of roads[71] and their effigies ultimately superseded the ancient phallic gods of the crossways. In this martial country the Bodhisattva assumed yet another character as Shōgun Jizō, a militant priest riding on horseback[72] and wearing a helmet who became the patron saint of warriors and was even identified with the Japanese war god, Hachiman. Until the seventeenth century Jizō was worshipped principally by soldiers and priests, but subsequently his cult spread among all classes and in all districts. His benevolent activities as a guide and saviour were more and more emphasized: he heals sickness, he leng thens life, he leads to heaven, he saves from hell: he even suffers as a substitute in hell and is the special protector of the souls of children amid the perils of the underworld. Though this modern figure of Jizō is wrought with ancient materials, it is in the main a work of Japanese sentiment.
In Japan, the worship of the six Jizōs became very popular. They were seen as the guardians of the roads[71] and their statues eventually replaced the old phallic gods of the crossroads. In this warrior culture, the Bodhisattva took on another role as Shōgun Jizō, a militant priest on horseback[72] wearing a helmet, who became the patron saint of warriors and was even associated with the Japanese war god, Hachiman. Until the seventeenth century, Jizō was mainly worshipped by soldiers and priests, but later, his popularity spread to all social classes and regions. His benevolent actions as a guide and savior became increasingly highlighted: he heals illness, extends life, leads to heaven, saves from hell; he even suffers as a substitute in hell and is the special protector of children's souls amidst the dangers of the underworld. Although this modern image of Jizō is shaped by ancient elements, it is largely a creation of Japanese sentiment.
FOOTNOTES:
[5] In dealing with the Mahayanists, I use the expression Śâkyamuni in preference to Gotama. It is their own title for the teacher and it seems incongruous to use the purely human name of Gotama in describing doctrines which represent him as superhuman.
[5] When talking about the Mahayanists, I prefer to use the term Śâkyamuni instead of Gotama. It's the name they use for the teacher, and it feels odd to refer to him by the purely human name Gotama when discussing teachings that portray him as superhuman.
[6] But Kings Hsin-byu-shin of Burma and Śrî Sûryavaṃsa Râma of Siam have left inscriptions recording their desire to become Buddhas. See my chapters on Burma and Siam below. Mahayanist ideas may easily have entered these countries from China, but even in Ceylon the idea of becoming a Buddha or Bodhisattva is not unknown. See Manual of a Mystic (P.T.S. 1916), pp. xviii and 140.
[6] But Kings Hsin-byu-shin of Burma and Śrî Sûryavaṃsa Râma of Siam have left inscriptions showing their wish to become Buddhas. See my chapters on Burma and Siam below. Mahayanist concepts may have easily come into these countries from China, but even in Ceylon, the notion of becoming a Buddha or Bodhisattva is not unfamiliar. See Manual of a Mystic (P.T.S. 1916), pp. xviii and 140.
[7] E.g. in Itivuttakam 75, there is a description of the man who is like a drought and gives nothing, the man who is like rain in a certain district and the man who is Sabbabhûtânukampako, compassionate to all creatures, and like rain falling everywhere. Similarly Ib. 84, and elsewhere, we have descriptions of persons (ordinary disciples as well as Buddhas) who are born for the welfare of gods and men bahujanahitâya, bahujanasukhâya, lokânukampâya, atthâya, hitâya, sukhâya devamanussânam.
[7] For example, in Itivuttakam 75, there's a description of a man who is like a drought and provides nothing, a man who is like rain in a certain area, and the man who is Sabbabhûtânukampako, compassionate to all beings, like rain that falls everywhere. Likewise, Ib. 84, and in other places, there are descriptions of individuals (both regular disciples and Buddhas) who are born for the benefit of gods and humans—bahujanahitâya, bahujanasukhâya, lokânukampâya, atthâya, hitâya, sukhâya devamanussânam.
[9] The Bodhicaryâvatâra was edited by Minayeff, 1889 and also in the Journal of the Buddhist Text Society and the Bibliotheca Indica. De la Vallée Poussin published parts of the text and commentary in his Bouddhisme and also a translation in 1907.
[9] The Bodhicaryâvatâra was edited by Minayeff in 1889 and also appeared in the Journal of the Buddhist Text Society and the Bibliotheca Indica. De la Vallée Poussin published sections of the text and commentary in his Bouddhisme and also provided a translation in 1907.
[10] The career of the Bodhisattva is also discussed in detail in the Avatamsaka sûtra and in works attributed to Nâgârjuna and Sthiramati, the Lakshaṇa-vimukta-hṛidaya-śâstra and the Mahâyâna-dharma-dhâtvaviśeshata-śâstra. I only know of these works as quoted by Teitaro Suzuki.
[10] The career of the Bodhisattva is also covered in detail in the Avatamsaka sûtra and in writings attributed to Nâgârjuna and Sthiramati, specifically the Lakshaṇa-vimukta-hṛidaya-śâstra and the Mahâyâna-dharma-dhâtvaviśeshata-śâstra. I only know about these works as cited by Teitaro Suzuki.
[13] See Sylvain Lévi, Mahâyâna-sûtrâlankâra: introduction and passim. For much additional information about the Bhûmis see De la Vallée Poussin's article "Bodhisattva" in E.R.E.
[13] See Sylvain Lévi, Mahâyâna-sûtrâlankâra: introduction and throughout. For more information about the Bhûmis, check out De la Vallée Poussin's article "Bodhisattva" in E.R.E.
[14] Eminent doctors such as Nâgârjuna and Asanga are often described as Bodhisattvas just as eminent Hindu teachers, e.g. Caitanya, are described as Avatâras.
[14] Renowned doctors like Nâgârjuna and Asanga are frequently referred to as Bodhisattvas, similar to how distinguished Hindu teachers, e.g. Caitanya, are referred to as Avatâras.
[15] The idea that Arhats may postpone their entry into Nirvana for the good of the world is not unknown to the Pali Canon. According to the Maha Parin-Sutta the Buddha himself might have done so. Legends which cannot be called definitely Mahayanist relate how Piṇḍola and others are to tarry until Maitreya come and how Kâśyapa in a less active role awaits him in a cave or tomb, ready to revive at his advent. See J.A. 1916, II. pp. 196, 270.
[15] The idea that Arhats might delay their entry into Nirvana for the greater good isn’t new to the Pali Canon. According to the Maha Parin-Sutta, the Buddha himself might have done this. Legends that aren’t strictly Mahayanist describe how Piṇḍola and others will wait until Maitreya arrives and how Kâśyapa, in a less active role, is waiting in a cave or tomb, ready to revive when he comes. See J.A. 1916, II. pp. 196, 270.
[16] E.g. Lotus, chap. I.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ For example, Lotus, chap. I.
[18] Lotus, S.B.E. XXI. p. 407.
[21] A maidservant in the drama Mâlatîmâdhava is called Avalokita. It is not clear whether it is a feminine form of the divine name or an adjective meaning looked-at, or admirable.
[21] A maidservant in the play Mâlatîmâdhava is named Avalokita. It's unclear whether this is a feminine version of a divine name or an adjective that means looked-at or admirable.
[22] S.B.E. XXI. pp. 4 and 406 ff. It was translated in Chinese between A.D. 265 and 316 and chap. XXIV was separately translated between A.D. 384 and 417. See Nanjio, Catalogue Nos. 136, 137, 138.
[22] S.B.E. XXI. pp. 4 and 406 ff. It was translated into Chinese between A.D. 265 and 316, and chapter XXIV was translated separately between A.D. 384 and 417. See Nanjio, Catalogue Nos. 136, 137, 138.
[24] As will be noticed from time to time in these pages, the sudden appearance of new deities in Indian literature often seems strange. The fact is that until deities are generally recognized, standard works pay no attention to them.
[24] As you’ll see throughout these pages, the sudden emergence of new gods in Indian literature can often seem odd. The reality is that until these gods gain general recognition, typical works don’t acknowledge them.
[25] Watters, vol. II. pp. 228 ff. It is said that Potalaka is also mentioned in the Hwa-yen-ching or Avatamsaka sûtra. Tibetan tradition connects it with the Śâkya family. See Csoma de Körös, Tibetan studies reprinted 1912, pp. 32-34.
[25] Watters, vol. II. pp. 228 ff. It's said that Potalaka is also mentioned in the Hwa-yen-ching or Avatamsaka sutra. Tibetan tradition links it to the Śâkya family. See Csoma de Körös, Tibetan studies reprinted 1912, pp. 32-34.
[26] Just as the Lankâvatâra sûtra purports to have been delivered at Lankapura-samudra-malaya-śikhara rendered in the Chinese translation as "in the city of Lanka on the summit of the Malaya mountain on the border of the sea."
[26] Just as the Lankâvatâra sutra claims to have been delivered at Lankapura-samudra-malaya-śikhara, which is translated in Chinese as "in the city of Lanka on the top of the Malaya mountain at the edge of the sea."
[28] Varamudra.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Varamudra.
[30] A temple on the north side of the lake in the Imperial City at Peking contains a gigantic image of him which has literally a thousand heads and a thousand hands. This monstrous figure is a warning against an attempt to represent metaphors literally.
[30] A temple on the north side of the lake in the Imperial City at Peking houses a massive statue of him that has literally a thousand heads and a thousand hands. This enormous figure serves as a warning against trying to take metaphors literally.
[33] See especially de Blonay, Études pour servir à l'histoire de la déesse bouddhique Târâ, Paris, 1895. Târâ continued to be worshipped as a Hindu goddess after Buddhism had disappeared and several works were written in her honour. See Raj. Mitra, Search for Sk. MSS. IV. 168, 171, X. 67.
[33] Especially check out de Blonay, Études pour servir à l'histoire de la déesse bouddhique Târâ, Paris, 1895. Târâ kept being worshipped as a Hindu goddess even after Buddhism faded away, and several works were created in her honor. See Raj. Mitra, Search for Sk. MSS. IV. 168, 171, X. 67.
[35] Chinese Buddhists say Târâ and Kuan-Yin are the same but the difference between them is this. Târâ is an Indian and Lamaist goddess associated with Avalokita and in origin analogous to the Saktis of Tantrism. Kuan-yin is a female form of Avalokita who can assume all shapes. The original Kuan-yin was a male deity: male Kuan-yins are not unknown in China and are said to be the rule in Korea. But Târâ and Kuan-yin may justly be described as the same in so far as they are attempts to embody the idea of divine pity in a Madonna.
[35] Chinese Buddhists say that Târâ and Kuan-Yin are the same, but there are some differences. Târâ is an Indian and Lamaist goddess associated with Avalokita and is originally similar to the Saktis of Tantrism. Kuan-Yin is a female form of Avalokita who can take on any shape. The original Kuan-Yin was a male deity; male Kuan-Yins are not uncommon in China and are said to be the norm in Korea. However, Târâ and Kuan-Yin can be fairly described as the same in that they both represent the idea of divine compassion in a Madonna figure.
[36] But many scholars think that the formula Om manipadme hum, which is supposed to be addressed to Avalokita, is really an invocation to a form of Śakti called Maṇipadmâ. A Nepalese inscription says that "The Śâktas call him Śakti" (E.R.E. vol. II. p. 260 and J.A. IX. 192), but this may be merely a way of saying that he is identical with the great gods of all sects.
[36] But many scholars believe that the phrase Om manipadme hum, which is thought to be directed towards Avalokita, is actually an invocation to a form of Śakti known as Maṇipadmâ. A Nepalese inscription states that "The Śâktas call him Śakti" (E.R.E. vol. II. p. 260 and J.A. IX. 192), but this might just be a way of indicating that he is the same as the major gods across all sects.
[38] See Fenollosa, Epochs of Chinese and Japanese Art I. pp. 105 and 124; Johnston, Buddhist China, 275 ff. Several Chinese deities appear to be of uncertain or varying sex. Thus Chun-ti is sometimes described as a deified Chinese General and sometimes identified with the Indian goddess Marîcî. Yü-ti, generally masculine, is sometimes feminine. See Doré, l.c. 212. Still more strangely the Patriarch Aśvaghosha (Ma Ming) is represented by a female figure. On the other hand the monk Ta Shêng (c. 705 A.D.) is said to have been an incarnation of the female Kuan Yin. Mañjuśrî is said to be worshipped in Nepal sometimes as a male, sometimes as a female. See Bendall and Haraprasad, Nepalese MSS. p. lxvii.
[38] See Fenollosa, Epochs of Chinese and Japanese Art I. pp. 105 and 124; Johnston, Buddhist China, 275 ff. Several Chinese deities seem to have uncertain or changing genders. For example, Chun-ti is sometimes seen as a deified Chinese General and at other times linked to the Indian goddess Marîcî. Yü-ti, who is usually portrayed as masculine, is occasionally depicted as feminine. See Doré, l.c. 212. Even more intriguingly, the Patriarch Aśvaghosha (Ma Ming) is shown as a female figure. Conversely, the monk Ta Shêng (around 705 A.D.) is said to have been an incarnation of the female Kuan Yin. Mañjuśrî is said to be worshipped in Nepal sometimes as male and sometimes as female. See Bendall and Haraprasad, Nepalese MSS. p. lxvii.
[39] de Blonay, l.c. pp. 48-57.
[40] Chinese, Man-chu-shih-li, or Wên-shu; Japanese, Monju; Tibetan, hJam-pahi-dbyans (pronounced Jam-yang). Mañju is good Sanskrit, but it must be confessed that the name has a Central-Asian ring.
[40] Chinese, Man-chu-shih-li, or Wên-shu; Japanese, Monju; Tibetan, hJam-pahi-dbyans (pronounced Jam-yang). Mañju is solid Sanskrit, but it has to be said that the name has a Central-Asian vibe.
[42] Chaps. XI. and XIII.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chaps. 11 and 13.
[43] A special work Mañjuśrîvikrîḍita (Nanjio, 184, 185) translated into Chinese 313 A.D. is quoted as describing Mañjuśrî's transformations and exploits.
[43] A special work Mañjuśrîvikrîḍita (Nanjio, 184, 185) translated into Chinese in 313 A.D. is referenced as detailing Mañjuśrî's transformations and adventures.
[46] Dharmacakramudra.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Dharmacakramudra.
[49] See I-tsing, trans. Takakusu, 1896, p. 136. For some further remarks on the possible foreign origin of Mañjuśrî see below, chapter on Central Asia. The verses attributed to King Harsha (Nanjio, 1071) praise the reliquaries of China but without details.
[49] See I-tsing, trans. Takakusu, 1896, p. 136. For more comments on the potential foreign origin of Mañjuśrî, see the chapter on Central Asia below. The verses credited to King Harsha (Nanjio, 1071) celebrate the reliquaries of China but lack specific details.
[50] Some of the Tantras, e.g. the Mahâcînakramâcâra, though they do not connect Mañjuśrî with China, represent some of their most surprising novelties as having been brought thence by ancient sages like Vasishṭha.
[50] Some of the Tantras, e.g. the Mahâcînakramâcâra, even though they don't link Mañjuśrî to China, present some of their most unexpected innovations as having been introduced from there by ancient wise figures like Vasishṭha.
[53] Sanskrit, Maitreya; Pali, Metteyya; Chinese, Mi-li; Japanese, Miroku; Mongol, Maidari; Tibetan, Byams-pa (pronounced Jampa). For the history of the Maitreya idea see especially Péri, B.E.F.E.O. 1911, pp. 439-457.
[53] Sanskrit, Maitreya; Pali, Metteyya; Chinese, Mi-li; Japanese, Miroku; Mongol, Maidari; Tibetan, Byams-pa (pronounced Jampa). For the history of the Maitreya concept, see especially Péri, B.E.F.E.O. 1911, pp. 439-457.
[54] But a Siamese inscription of about 1361, possibly influenced by Chinese Mahayanism, speaks of the ten Bodhisattvas headed by Metteyya. See B.E.F.E.O. 1917, No. 2, pp. 30, 31.
[54] But a Siamese inscription from around 1361, likely influenced by Chinese Mahayanism, mentions the ten Bodhisattvas led by Metteyya. See B.E.F.E.O. 1917, No. 2, pp. 30, 31.
[55] E.g. in the Mahâparinibbâna Sûtra.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ For example. in the Mahâparinibbâna Sûtra.
[57] See e.g. Watters, Yüan Chwang, I. 239.
[58] See Watters and Péri in B.E.F.E.O. 1911, 439. A temple of Maitreya has been found at Turfan in Central Asia with a Chinese inscription which speaks of him as an active and benevolent deity manifesting himself in many forms.
[58] See Watters and Péri in B.E.F.E.O. 1911, 439. A temple dedicated to Maitreya has been discovered in Turfan, Central Asia, featuring a Chinese inscription that describes him as a lively and kind deity appearing in various forms.
[59] He has not fared well in Chinese iconography which represents him as an enormously fat smiling monk. In the Liang dynasty there was a monk called Pu-tai (Jap. Hotei) who was regarded as an incarnation of Maitreya and became a popular subject for caricature. It would appear that the Bodhisattva himself has become superseded by this cheerful but undignified incarnation.
[59] He hasn’t been well-represented in Chinese art, where he’s shown as a very overweight, smiling monk. During the Liang dynasty, there was a monk named Pu-tai (Japanese: Hotei) who was seen as an incarnation of Maitreya and became a popular figure for caricatures. It seems that this cheerful but undignified representation has overtaken the Bodhisattva himself.
[60] The stupa was apparently at Benares but Hsüan Chuang's narrative is not clear and other versions make Râjagṛiha or Srâvasti the scene of the prediction.
[60] The stupa was likely in Benares, but Hsüan Chuang's account isn't clear, and other versions suggest that Râjagṛiha or Srâvasti might be the location of the prediction.
[61] Campa. This is his bodhi tree under which he will obtain enlightenment as Sâkyamuni under the Ficus religiosa. Each Buddha has his own special kind of bodhi tree.
[61] Campa. This is the bodhi tree where he will achieve enlightenment, just like Sâkyamuni did under the Ficus religiosa. Every Buddha has their own unique type of bodhi tree.
[64] Or Mahâsthâna. Chinese, Tai-shih-chih. He appears to be the Arhat Maudgalyâyana deified. In China and Japan there is a marked tendency to regard all Bodhisattvas as ancient worthies who by their vows and virtues have risen to their present high position. But these euhemeristic explanations are common in the Far East and the real origin of the Bodhisattvas may be quite different.
[64] Or Mahâsthâna. In Chinese, it's Tai-shih-chih. He seems to be the deified Arhat Maudgalyâyana. In China and Japan, there's a strong tendency to view all Bodhisattvas as ancient figures who, through their vows and virtues, have achieved their current esteemed status. However, these interpretations that try to explain them in historical terms are common in the Far East, and the true origins of the Bodhisattvas might be quite different.
CHAPTER XVIII
THE BUDDHAS OF MAHAYANISM
This mythology did not grow up around the Buddha without affecting the central figure. To understand the extraordinary changes of meaning both mythological and metaphysical which the word Buddha undergoes in Mahayanist theology we must keep in mind not the personality of Gotama but the idea that he is one of several successive Buddhas who for convenience may be counted as four, seven or twenty-four but who really form an infinite series extending without limit backwards into the past and forwards into the future.[73] This belief in a series of Buddhas produced a plentiful crop of imaginary personalities and also of speculations as to their connection with one another, with the phenomena of the world and with the human soul.
This mythology developed around the Buddha and influenced the main figure. To grasp the significant shifts in meaning, both mythological and metaphysical, that the term Buddha undergoes in Mahayanist theology, we need to focus not on Gotama's personality but on the idea that he is one of several successive Buddhas. For convenience, these can be counted as four, seven, or twenty-four, but they actually form an infinite series extending endlessly backward into the past and forward into the future.[73] This belief in a series of Buddhas led to a rich variety of imaginary figures and speculations about their connections with each other, the world around us, and the human soul.
In the Pali Canon the Buddhas antecedent to Gotama are introduced much like ancient kings as part of the legendary history of this world. But in the Lalita-vistara (Chap. XX) and the Lotus (Chap. VII) we hear of Buddhas, usually described as Tathâgatas, who apparently do not belong to this world at all, but rule various points of the compass, or regions described as Buddha-fields (Buddha-kshetra). Their names are not the same in the different accounts and we remain dazzled by an endless panorama of an infinity of universes with an infinity of shining Buddhas, illuminating infinite space.
In the Pali Canon, the Buddhas who came before Gotama are presented similarly to ancient kings as part of the legendary history of our world. However, in the Lalita-vistara (Chap. XX) and the Lotus (Chap. VII), we learn about Buddhas, often referred to as Tathâgatas, who seemingly don’t belong to this world at all but govern various directions or regions known as Buddha-fields (Buddha-kshetra). Their names differ across these accounts, and we find ourselves mesmerized by a vast panorama of infinite universes filled with countless shining Buddhas, illuminating limitless space.
Somewhat later five of these unearthly Buddhas were formed into a pentad and described as Jinas[74] or Dhyâni Buddhas (Buddhas of contemplation), namely, Vairocana, Akshobhya, Ratnasambhava, Amitâbha and Amoghasiddhi. In the fully developed form of this doctrine these five personages [27]are produced by contemplation from the Âdi-Buddha or original Buddha spirit and themselves produce various reflexes, including Bodhisattvas, human Buddhas and goddesses like Târâ. The date when these beliefs first became part of the accepted Mahayana creed cannot be fixed but probably the symmetrical arrangement of five Buddhas is not anterior to the tantric period[75] of Buddhism.
Somewhat later, five of these otherworldly Buddhas were grouped together into a set of five, known as Jinas[74] or Dhyâni Buddhas (Buddhas of contemplation): Vairocana, Akshobhya, Ratnasambhava, Amitâbha, and Amoghasiddhi. In the fully developed version of this doctrine, these five figures [27]are generated through contemplation from the Âdi-Buddha or original Buddha spirit, and they in turn give rise to various manifestations, including Bodhisattvas, human Buddhas, and goddesses like Târâ. The exact time when these beliefs first integrated into the accepted Mahayana doctrine isn't clear, but the balanced arrangement of five Buddhas likely did not exist before the tantric period[75] of Buddhism.
The most important of the five are Vairocana and Amitâbha. Akshobhya is mentioned in both the Lotus and Smaller Sukhâvatî-vyûha as the chief Buddha of the eastern quarter, and a work purporting to be a description of his paradise still extant in Chinese[76] is said to have been translated in the time of the Eastern Han dynasty. But even in the Far East he did not find many worshippers. More enduring has been the glory of Vairocana who is the chief deity of the Shingon sect in Japan and is represented by the gigantic image in the temple at Nara. In Java he seems to have been regarded as the principal and supreme Buddha. The name occurs in the Mahâvastu as the designation of an otherwise unknown Buddha of luminous attributes and in the Lotus we hear of a distant Buddha-world called Vairocana-rasmi-pratimandita, embellished by the rays of the sun.[77] Vairocana is clearly a derivative of Virocana, a recognized title of the sun in Sanskrit, and is rendered in Chinese by Ta-jih meaning great Sun. How this solar deity first came to be regarded as a Buddha is not known but the connection between a Buddha and light has always been recognized. Even the Pali texts represent Gotama as being luminous on some occasions and in the Mahayanist scriptures Buddhas are radiant and light-giving beings, surrounded by halos of prodigious extent and emitting flashes which illuminate the depths of space. The visions of innumerable paradises in all quarters containing jewelled stupas and lighted by refulgent Buddhas which are frequent in these works seem founded on astronomy vaporized under the influence of the idea that there are millions of universes all equally transitory and unsubstantial. There is no reason, so [28]far as I see, to regard Gotama as a mythical solar hero, but the celestial Buddhas[78] clearly have many solar attributes. This is natural. Solar deities are so abundant in Vedic mythology that it is hardly possible to be a benevolent god without having something of the character of the sun. The stream of foreign religions which flowed into India from Bactria and Persia about the time of the Christian era brought new aspects of sun worship such as Mithra, Helios and Apollo and strengthened the tendency to connect divinity and light. And this connection was peculiarly appropriate and obvious in the case of a Buddha, for Buddhas are clearly revealers and light-givers, conquerors of darkness and dispellers of ignorance.
The most important of the five are Vairocana and Amitâbha. Akshobhya is mentioned in both the Lotus and the Smaller Sukhâvatî-vyûha as the main Buddha of the eastern quarter, and a work claiming to describe his paradise still exists in Chinese[76] that is said to have been translated during the Eastern Han dynasty. However, even in the Far East, he hasn’t gained many followers. Vairocana has enjoyed more lasting fame, serving as the chief deity of the Shingon sect in Japan, represented by a massive image in the temple at Nara. In Java, he seems to have been seen as the primary and supreme Buddha. His name appears in the Mahâvastu as the title of an otherwise unknown Buddha with luminous qualities, and in the Lotus, there’s mention of a distant Buddha-world called Vairocana-rasmi-pratimandita, adorned by sunbeams.[77] Vairocana is clearly derived from Virocana, a known title for the sun in Sanskrit, and is translated in Chinese as Ta-jih, meaning great Sun. How this solar deity became recognized as a Buddha is unclear, but the link between a Buddha and light has always been acknowledged. Even the Pali texts depict Gotama as luminous on certain occasions, and in Mahayanist scriptures, Buddhas are described as radiant and light-giving beings, surrounded by large halos and emitting flashes that illuminate the depths of space. The visions of countless paradises in all directions containing jeweled stupas and lit by splendid Buddhas, which are common in these texts, appear to be influenced by the idea of countless transitory and insubstantial universes. There’s no reason, as far as I can see, to consider Gotama a mythical solar hero, but the celestial Buddhas[78] clearly possess many solar qualities. This makes sense. Solar deities are so prevalent in Vedic mythology that it’s nearly impossible for a benevolent god not to share some characteristics with the sun. The influx of foreign religions into India from Bactria and Persia around the time of the Christian era introduced new forms of sun worship such as Mithra, Helios, and Apollo, reinforcing the association between divinity and light. This connection was particularly fitting for a Buddha since Buddhas are clearly revealers and light-givers, conquerors of darkness and dispellers of ignorance.
Amitâbha (or the Buddha of measureless light), rising suddenly from an obscure origin, has like Avalokita and Vishnu become one of the great gods of Asia. He is also known as Amitâyus or measureless life, and is therefore a god of light and immortality. According to both the Lotus and the Smaller Sukhâvatî-vyûha he is the lord of the western quarter but he is unknown to the Lalita-vistara. It gives the ruler of the west a lengthy title,[79] which suggests a land of gardens. Now Paradise, which has biblical authority as a name for the place of departed spirits, appears to mean in Persian a park or enclosed garden and the Avesta speaks of four heavens, the good thought Paradise, the good word Paradise, the good deed Paradise and the Endless Lights.[80] This last expression bears a remarkable resemblance to the name of Amitâbha and we can understand that he should rule the west, because it is the home to which the sun and departed spirits go. Amitâbha's Paradise is called Sukhâvatî or Happy Land. In the Puranas the city of Varuṇa (who is suspected of having a non-Indian origin) is said to be situated in the west and is called Sukha (Linga P. and Vayu P.) or Mukhya (so Vishnu P. and others). The name Amitâbha also occurs in the Vishnu Purana as the name of a class of gods and it is curious that they are in one place[81] associated with [29]other deities called the Mukhyas. The worship of Amitâbha, so far as its history can be traced, goes back to Saraha, the teacher of Nâgârjuna. He is said to have been a Sudra and his name seems un-Indian. This supports the theory that this worship was foreign and imported into India.[82]
Amitâbha (or the Buddha of limitless light), unexpectedly emerging from an obscure background, has, like Avalokita and Vishnu, become one of the major deities of Asia. He is also referred to as Amitâyus or limitless life, which makes him a god of light and immortality. According to both the Lotus and the Smaller Sukhâvatî-vyûha, he is the lord of the western region, but he is not mentioned in the Lalita-vistara. It gives the ruler of the west a lengthy title,[79] suggesting a land of gardens. Now Paradise, which has biblical roots as a term for the place of departed souls, is believed to mean in Persian a park or enclosed garden, and the Avesta speaks of four heavens: the Paradise of good thought, the Paradise of good word, the Paradise of good deed, and the Endless Lights.[80] This last phrase closely resembles the name of Amitâbha, helping us understand why he should rule the west, as it is the destination to which the sun and departed souls go. Amitâbha's Paradise is known as Sukhâvatî or Happy Land. In the Puranas, the city of Varuṇa (who is thought to have a non-Indian origin) is said to be located in the west and is called Sukha (Linga P. and Vayu P.) or Mukhya (according to Vishnu P. and others). The name Amitâbha also appears in the Vishnu Purana as a name for a class of gods, and it's interesting that they are in one place[81] linked with [29]other deities referred to as the Mukhyas. The worship of Amitâbha, as far as its history can be traced, dates back to Saraha, the teacher of Nâgârjuna. He is said to have been a Sudra, and his name seems non-Indian. This supports the theory that this worship was foreign and brought into India.[82]
This worship and the doctrine on which it is based are an almost complete contradiction of Gotama's teaching, for they amount to this, that religion consists in faith in Amitâbha and prayer to him, in return for which he will receive his followers after death in his paradise. Yet this is not a late travesty of Buddhism but a relatively early development which must have begun about the Christian era. The principal works in which it is preached are the Greater Sukhâvatî-vyûha or Description of the Happy Land, translated into Chinese between 147 and 186 A.D., the lesser work of the same name translated in 402 A.D. and the Sûtra of meditation on Amitâyus[83] translated in 424. The first of these works purports to be a discourse of Śâkyamuni himself, delivered on the Vulture's Peak in answer to the questions of Ânanda. He relates how innumerable ages ago there was a monk called Dharmâkara who, with the help of the Buddha of that period, made a vow or vows[84] to become a Buddha but on conditions. That is to say he rejected the Buddhahood to which he might become entitled unless his merits obtained certain advantages for others, and having obtained Buddhahood on these conditions he can now cause them to be fulfilled. In other words he can apportion his vast store of accumulated merit to such persons and in such manner as he chooses. The gist of the conditions is that he should when he obtained Buddhahood be lord of a paradise whose inhabitants live in unbroken happiness until they obtain Nirvana. All who have thought of this paradise ten times are to be admitted therein, unless they have committed grievous sin, and Amitâbha will appear to them at the moment of death so that their thoughts may not be troubled. The Buddha shows Ânanda a [30] miraculous vision of this paradise and its joys are described in language recalling the account of the New Jerusalem in the book of Revelation and, though coarser pleasures are excluded, all the delights of the eye and ear, such as jewels, gardens, flowers, rivers and the songs of birds await the faithful.
This worship and the beliefs it's based on are almost completely opposed to Gotama's teaching, as they suggest that religion is about having faith in Amitâbha and praying to him, in exchange for which he will welcome his followers to his paradise after they die. However, this isn’t just a later distortion of Buddhism but rather an early development that likely started around the time of Christ. The main texts that promote this are the Greater Sukhâvatî-vyûha, or Description of the Happy Land, translated into Chinese between 147 and 186 A.D.; the smaller work with the same title translated in 402 A.D.; and the Sûtra of meditation on Amitâyus, translated in 424. The first of these texts claims to be a sermon by Śâkyamuni himself, given on Vulture's Peak in response to Ânanda’s questions. He recounts how a long time ago there was a monk named Dharmâkara who, with help from the Buddha of that time, made a vow (or vows) to attain Buddhahood but only under certain conditions. Essentially, he rejected the Buddhahood he might deserve unless his achievements could provide specific benefits for others, and with those conditions met, he can now ensure those benefits are granted. This means he can distribute his extensive accumulated merit to people as he sees fit. The core of his conditions is that upon achieving Buddhahood, he should be the ruler of a paradise where the inhabitants live in constant happiness until they reach Nirvana. Anyone who has thought of this paradise ten times will be allowed in, unless they have committed serious sins, and Amitâbha will come to them at the moment of death to ease their minds. The Buddha shows Ânanda a[30] miraculous vision of this paradise, and its joys are described in a way that echoes the depiction of the New Jerusalem in the book of Revelation. Although coarser pleasures are not included, all the delights for the eyes and ears, such as jewels, gardens, flowers, rivers, and the songs of birds, await the faithful.
The smaller Sukhâvatî-vyûha, represented as preached by Śâkyamuni at Śrâvasti, is occupied almost entirely with a description of the paradise. It marks a new departure in definitely preaching salvation by faith only, not by works, whereas the previous treatise, though dwelling on the efficacy of faith, also makes merit a requisite for life in heaven. But the shorter discourse says dogmatically "Beings are not born in that Buddha country as a reward and result of good works performed in this present life. No, all men or women who hear and bear in mind for one, two, three, four, five, six or seven nights the name of Amitâyus, when they come to die, Amitâyus will stand before them in the hour of death, they will depart this life with quiet minds and after death they will be born in Paradise."
The smaller Sukhâvatî-vyûha, as preached by Śâkyamuni at Śrâvasti, mainly focuses on describing paradise. It represents a significant shift by teaching that salvation comes through faith alone and not through good deeds, while the earlier text, despite emphasizing the power of faith, also required merit for entry into heaven. However, the shorter discourse asserts firmly, "Beings are not born in that Buddha country as a reward for good deeds done in this life. No, anyone who hears and remembers the name of Amitâyus, whether for one, two, three, four, five, six, or seven nights, will have Amitâyus appear before them at the hour of death. They will leave this life peacefully and, after passing, will be reborn in Paradise."
The Amitâyur-dhyâna-sûtra also purports to be the teaching of Śâkyamuni and has an historical introduction connecting it with Queen Vaidehî and King Bimbisâra. In theology it is more advanced than the other treatises: it is familiar with the doctrine of Dharma-kâya (which will be discussed below) and it represents the rulers of paradise as a triad, Amitâyus being assisted by Avalokita and Mahasthâmaprâpta.[85] Admission to the paradise can be obtained in various ways, but the method recommended is the practice of a series of meditations which are described in detail. The system is comprehensive, for salvation can be obtained by mere virtue with little or no prayer but also by a single invocation of Amitâyus, which suffices to free from deadly sins.
The Amitâyur-dhyâna-sûtra claims to be the teachings of Śâkyamuni and includes a historical introduction linking it to Queen Vaidehî and King Bimbisâra. In terms of theology, it is more developed than the other texts; it is acquainted with the concept of Dharma-kâya (which will be explained later) and depicts the rulers of paradise as a trio, with Amitâyus being supported by Avalokita and Mahasthâmaprâpta.[85] Entry to paradise can be achieved through various means, but the suggested method is practicing a series of meditations that are described in detail. The system is all-encompassing, as salvation can be attained through pure virtue with little or no prayer or even by a single call to Amitâyus, which is enough to erase deadly sins.
Strange as such doctrines appear when set beside the Pali texts, it is clear that in their origin and even in the form which they assume in the larger Sukhâvatî-vyûha they are simply an exaggeration of ordinary Mahayanist teaching.[86] Amitâbha is [31] merely a monk who devotes himself to the religious life, namely seeking bodhi for the good of others. He differs from every day devotees only in the degree of sanctity and success obtained by his exertions. The operations which he performs are nothing but examples on a stupendous scale of pariṇâmanâ or the assignment of one's own merits to others. His paradise, though in popular esteem equivalent to the Persian or Christian heaven, is not really so: strictly speaking it is not an ultimate ideal but a blessed region in which Nirvana may be obtained without toil or care.
Strange as these beliefs seem compared to the Pali texts, it's evident that their origin and even the way they are presented in the larger Sukhâvatî-vyûha are just an exaggeration of standard Mahayanist teachings.[86] Amitâbha is [31] simply a monk dedicated to the religious life, specifically pursuing bodhi for the benefit of others. He differs from regular practitioners only in the level of holiness and success achieved through his efforts. The actions he takes are merely examples on a massive scale of pariṇâmanâ, or the sharing of one's own merits with others. His paradise, while commonly viewed as equivalent to the Persian or Christian heaven, isn't actually like that: in reality, it's not a final ideal but a blessed place where Nirvana can be attained without struggle or worry.
Though this teaching had brilliant success in China and Japan, where it still flourishes, the worship of Amitâbha was never predominant in India. In Nepal and Tibet he is one among many deities: the Chinese pilgrims hardly mention him: his figure is not particularly frequent in Indian iconography[87] and, except in the works composed specially in his honour, he appears as an incidental rather than as a necessary figure. The whole doctrine is hardly strenuous enough for Indians. To pray to the Buddha at the end of a sinful life, enter his paradise and obtain ultimate Nirvana in comfort is not only open to the same charge of egoism as the Hinayana scheme of salvation but is much easier and may lead to the abandonment of religious effort. And the Hindu, who above all things likes to busy himself with his own salvation, does not take kindly to these expedients. Numerous deities promise a long spell of heaven as a reward for the mere utterance of their names,[88] yet the believer continues to labour earnestly in ceremonies or meditation. It would be interesting to know whether this doctrine of salvation by the utterance of a single name or prayer originated among Buddhists or Brahmans. In any case it is closely related to old ideas about the magic power of Vedic verses.
Though this teaching was very successful in China and Japan, where it still thrives, the worship of Amitâbha was never widespread in India. In Nepal and Tibet, he is just one of many deities: Chinese pilgrims barely mention him; his image is not particularly common in Indian art, and except in works created specifically in his honor, he is more of a side character than a central figure. The whole doctrine doesn't seem demanding enough for Indians. To pray to the Buddha at the end of a sinful life, enter his paradise, and achieve ultimate Nirvana with ease is not only susceptible to the same criticism of selfishness as the Hinayana approach to salvation but is also much simpler, which might encourage neglect of religious effort. Moreover, the Hindu, who values working toward his own salvation, is not fond of these shortcuts. Many deities promise an extended period of heaven simply for saying their names, yet believers still actively engage in rituals and meditation. It would be intriguing to find out whether this idea of salvation through the recitation of a single name or prayer originated with Buddhists or Brahmins. In any case, it is closely tied to ancient beliefs about the magical power of Vedic verses.
The five Jinas and other supernatural personages are often regarded as manifestations of a single Buddha-force and at last this force is personified as Âdi-Buddha.[89] This admittedly [32] theistic form of Buddhism is late and is recorded from Nepal, Tibet (in the Kâlacakra system) and Java, a distribution which implies that it was exported from Bengal.[90] But another form in which the Buddha-force is impersonal and analogous to the Parabrahma of the Vedânta is much older. Yet when this philosophic idea is expressed in popular language it comes very near to Theism. As Kern has pointed out, Buddha is not called Deva or Îśvara in the Lotus simply because he is above such beings. He declares that he has existed and will exist for incalculable ages and has preached and will preach in innumerable millions of worlds. His birth here and his nirvana are illusory, kindly devices which may help weak disciples but do not mark the real beginning and end of his activity. This implies a view of Buddha's personality which is more precisely defined in the doctrine known as Ṭrikâya or the three bodies[91] and expounded in the Mahâyâna-sûtrâlankâra, the Awakening of Faith, the Suvarṇa-prabhâsa sûtra[92] and many other works. It may be stated dogmatically as follows, but it assumes somewhat divergent forms according as it is treated theologically or metaphysically.
The five Jinas and other supernatural figures are often seen as expressions of a single Buddha-force, ultimately personified as Âdi-Buddha.[89] This theistic version of Buddhism is relatively recent and is found in Nepal, Tibet (in the Kâlacakra system), and Java, suggesting it was brought over from Bengal.[90] However, there is an older version of the Buddha-force that is impersonal and similar to the Parabrahma of Vedânta. Yet when this philosophical concept is explained in everyday language, it closely resembles Theism. As Kern pointed out, Buddha is not referred to as Deva or Îśvara in the Lotus because he transcends those beings. He claims to have existed and will exist for countless ages and has taught and will teach in countless millions of worlds. His birth in this realm and his nirvana are merely illusions, gentle methods that may assist weak followers but do not signify the true beginning and end of his work. This suggests a perspective on Buddha's personality that is more clearly defined in the doctrine known as Ṭrikâya or the three bodies[91] and discussed in the Mahâyâna-sûtrâlankâra, the Awakening of Faith, the Suvarṇa-prabhâsa sûtra[92] and various other texts. It can be stated dogmatically as follows, though it takes on somewhat different forms depending on whether it is approached theologically or metaphysically.
A Buddha has three bodies or forms of existence. The first is the Dharma-kâya, which is the essence of all Buddhas. It is true knowledge or Bodhi. It may also be described as Nirvana and also as the one permanent reality underlying all phenomena and all individuals. The second is the Sambhoga-kâya, or body of enjoyment, that is to say the radiant and superhuman form in which Buddhas appear in their paradises or when otherwise manifesting themselves in celestial splendour. The third is the Nirmâna-kâya, or the body [33] of transformation, that is to say the human form worn by Śâkyamuni or any other Buddha and regarded as a transformation of his true nature and almost a distortion, because it is so partial and inadequate an expression of it. Later theology regards Amitâbha, Amitâyus and Śâkyamuni as a series corresponding to the three bodies. Amitâbha does not really express the whole Dharma-kâya, which is incapable of personification, but when he is accurately distinguished from Amitâyus (and frequently they are regarded as synonyms) he is made the more remote and ethereal of the two. Amitâyus with his rich ornaments and his flask containing the water of eternal life is the ideal of a splendidly beneficent saviour and represents the Sambhoga-kâya.[93] Śâkyamuni is the same beneficent being shrunk into human form. But this is only one aspect, and not the most important, of the doctrine of the three bodies. We can easily understand the Sambhoga-kâya and Nirmâna-kâya: they correspond to a deity such as Vishnu and his incarnation Krishna, and they are puzzling in Buddhism simply because we think naturally of the older view (not entirely discarded by the Mahayana) which makes the human Buddha the crown and apex of a series of lives that find in him their fulfilment. But it is less easy to understand the Dharma-kâya.
A Buddha has three forms of existence. The first is the Dharma-kāya, which represents the essence of all Buddhas. It is true knowledge or Bodhi. It can also be referred to as Nirvana and as the one permanent reality that underlies all phenomena and individuals. The second is the Sambhoga-kāya, or body of enjoyment, which is the radiant and superhuman form Buddhas take when they appear in their paradises or manifest in celestial splendor. The third is the Nirmāna-kāya, or body of transformation, which is the human form that Śākyamuni or any other Buddha takes, viewed as a transformation of his true nature and almost a distortion, since it is such a partial and inadequate expression of it. Later theology sees Amitābha, Amitāyus, and Śākyamuni as a sequence that corresponds to the three bodies. Amitābha doesn’t fully represent the Dharma-kāya since it cannot be personified, but when he is clearly distinguished from Amitāyus (who are often seen as synonyms), he becomes the more distant and ethereal of the two. Amitāyus, with his rich ornaments and the flask containing the water of eternal life, embodies the ideal of a magnificently benevolent savior and represents the Sambhoga-kāya. Śākyamuni is the same benevolent being condensed into human form. However, this is just one aspect and not the most crucial part of the doctrine of the three bodies. We can easily grasp the Sambhoga-kāya and Nirmāna-kāya: they relate to a deity like Vishnu and his incarnation Krishna. They seem puzzling in Buddhism primarily because we tend to think naturally of the earlier view (which isn’t entirely abandoned by Mahayana) that considers the human Buddha as the culmination of a series of lives that find their fulfillment in him. However, understanding the Dharma-kāya is less straightforward.
The word should perhaps be translated as body of the law and the thought originally underlying it may have been that the essential nature of a Buddha, that which makes him a Buddha, is the law which he preaches. As we might say, the teacher lives in his teaching: while it survives, he is active and not dead.
The word might be better translated as the body of the law, and the original idea behind it could have been that the core essence of a Buddha—what sets him apart as a Buddha—is the law he teaches. We could say that the teacher exists within his teachings: as long as they endure, he is alive and not gone.
The change from metaphor to theology is illustrated by Hsüan Chuang when he states[94] (no doubt quoting from his edition of the Pitakas) that Gotama when dying said to those around him "Say not that the Tathâgata is undergoing final [34] extinction: his spiritual presence abides for ever unchangeable." This apparently corresponds to the passage in the Pali Canon,[95] which runs "It may be that in some of you the thought may arise, the word of the Master is ended: we have no more a teacher. But it is not thus that you should regard it. The truths and the rules which I have set forth, let them, after I am gone, be the Teacher to you." But in Buddhist writings, including the oldest Pali texts, Dharma or Dhamma has another important meaning. It signifies phenomenon or mental state (the two being identical for an idealistic philosophy) and comprises both the external and the internal world. Now the Dharma-kâya is emphatically not a phenomenon but it may be regarded as the substratum or totality of phenomena or as that which gives phenomena whatever reality they possess and the double use of the word dharma rendered such divagations of meaning easier.[96] Hindus have a tendency to identify being and knowledge. According to the Vedânta philosophy he who knows Brahman, knows that he himself is Brahman and therefore he actually is Brahman. In the same way the true body of the Buddha is prajñâ or knowledge.[97] By this is meant a knowledge which transcends the distinction between subject and object and which sees that neither animate beings nor inanimate things have individuality or separate existence. Thus the Dharma-kâya being an intelligence which sees the illusory quality of the world and also how the illusion originates[98] may be regarded as the origin and ground of all phenomena. As such it is also called Tathâgatagarbha and Dharma-dhâtu, the matrix or store-house of all phenomena. On the other hand, inasmuch as it is beyond them and implies their unreality, it may also be regarded as the annihilation of all phenomena, in other words as Nirvana. In fact the Dharma-kâya (or Bhûta-tathatâ) is sometimes[99] defined in words similar to those which the Pali Canon makes the Buddha use when asked if the Perfect Saint exists after death—"it is neither that which is existence nor that which is non-existence, nor that which is at once existence and non-existence nor that which is neither existence nor [35] non-existence." In more theological language it may be said that according to the general opinion of the Mahayanists a Buddha attains to Nirvana by the very act of becoming a Buddha and is therefore beyond everything which we call existence. Yet the compassion which he feels for mankind and the good Karma which he has accumulated cause a human image of him (Nirmâna-kâya) to appear among men for their instruction and a superhuman image, perceptible yet not material, to appear in Paradise.
The shift from metaphor to theology is exemplified by Hsüan Chuang when he states[94] (likely quoting from his edition of the Pitakas) that as Gotama was dying, he told those around him, "Don't say that the Tathâgata is facing final [34] extinction: his spiritual presence lasts forever and remains unchanged." This seems to relate to the passage in the Pali Canon,[95] which says, "It may occur to some of you that the Master's words have come to an end: we no longer have a teacher. But you should not think of it this way. The truths and the rules I have shared, let them be your Teacher after I am gone." However, in Buddhist texts, including the oldest Pali writings, Dharma or Dhamma has another vital meaning. It represents phenomenon or mental state (the two being identical in idealistic philosophy) and includes both the external and internal worlds. The Dharma-kâya is definitely not a phenomenon, but it can be viewed as the basis or totality of phenomena or as that which gives phenomena their reality, and the dual meaning of the word dharma makes such nuances easier to convey.[96] Hindus often link being and knowledge. According to Vedânta philosophy, whoever knows Brahman understands that they themselves are Brahman and hence, they truly are Brahman. Similarly, the true body of the Buddha is prajñâ or knowledge.[97] This refers to a knowledge that goes beyond the division between subject and object and recognizes that neither living beings nor inanimate objects possess individuality or separate existence. Thus, the Dharma-kâya, being an intelligence that perceives the illusory nature of the world and how the illusion arises[98] can be seen as the source and foundation of all phenomena. As such, it is also referred to as Tathâgatagarbha and Dharma-dhâtu, the matrix or reservoir of all phenomena. On the other hand, since it exists beyond them and implies their unreality, it can also be viewed as the negation of all phenomena, in other words, as Nirvana. In fact, the Dharma-kâya (or Bhûta-tathatâ) is sometimes[99] described in terms similar to those the Pali Canon records the Buddha using when asked if the Perfect Saint exists after death—"it is neither that which is existence nor that which is non-existence, nor that which is both existence and non-existence, nor that which is neither existence nor [35] non-existence." In more theological terms, it can be said that according to common Mahayanist belief, a Buddha reaches Nirvana at the very moment of becoming a Buddha and thus transcends everything we refer to as existence. Nevertheless, the compassion he feels for humanity and the good Karma he has built up result in a human form of him (Nirmâna-kâya) appearing among people for their guidance and a superhuman form, perceptible yet non-material, appearing in Paradise.
FOOTNOTES:
[73] In Mahâparinib. Sut. I. 16 the Buddha is made to speak of all the other Buddhas who have been in the long ages of the past and will be in the long ages of the future.
[73] In Mahâparinib. Sut. I. 16, the Buddha talks about all the other Buddhas who have existed in the distant past and will appear in the distant future.
[74] Though Dhyâni Buddha is the title most frequently used in European works it would appear that Jina is more usual in Sanskrit works, and in fact Dhyâni Buddha is hardly known outside Nepalese literature. Ratnasambhava and Amoghasiddhi are rarely mentioned apart from the others. According to Getty (Gods of Northern Buddhism, pp. 26, 27) a group of six, including the Âdi-Buddha himself under the name of Vajrasattva, is sometimes worshipped.
[74] While Dhyâni Buddha is the title most commonly found in European texts, it seems that Jina is more typical in Sanskrit writings, and in reality, Dhyâni Buddha is hardly recognized outside of Nepalese literature. Ratnasambhava and Amoghasiddhi are rarely mentioned except alongside the others. According to Getty (Gods of Northern Buddhism, pp. 26, 27), a group of six, which includes the Âdi-Buddha himself under the name of Vajrasattva, is sometimes worshipped.
[76] Nanjio, Cat. No. 28.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Nanjio, Cat. No. 28.
[77] Virocana also occurs in the Chândogya Up. VIII. 7 and 8 as the name of an Asura who misunderstood the teaching of Prajâpati. Verocana is the name of an Asura in Sam. Nik. I. xi. 1. 8.
[77] Virocana also appears in the Chândogya Up. VIII. 7 and 8 as the name of a demon who misinterpreted Prajâpati's teachings. Verocana is the name of a demon in Sam. Nik. I. xi. 1. 8.
[79] Chap. XX. Pushpavalivanârajikusumitâbhijña.
[80] E.g. Yashts. XXII. and XXIV. S.B.E. vol. XXIII. pp. 317 and 344. The title Pure Land (Chinese Ch'ing-t'u, Japanese Jo-do) has also a Persian ring about it. See further in the chapter on Central Asia.
[80] For example Yashts. XXII. and XXIV. S.B.E. vol. XXIII. pp. 317 and 344. The term Pure Land (Chinese Ch'ing-t'u, Japanese Jo-do) also has a Persian feel to it. See more in the chapter on Central Asia.
[84] Praṇidhâna. Not only Amitâbha but all Bodhisattvas (especially Avalokita and Kshitigarbha) are supposed to have made such vows. This idea is very common in China and Japan but goes back to Indian sources. See e.g. Lotus, XXIV. verse 3.
[84] Praṇidhâna. Not just Amitābha, but all Bodhisattvas (especially Avalokita and Kshitigarbha) are believed to have made such vows. This concept is quite common in China and Japan, but it has its roots in Indian sources. See e.g. Lotus, XXIV. verse 3.
[86] Even in Hinayanist works such as the Nidânakathâ Sumedha's resolution to become a Buddha, formed as he lies on the ground before Dipankara, has a resemblance to Amîda's vow. He resolves to attain the truth, to enable mankind to cross the sea of the world and only then to attain Nirvana.
[86] Even in Hinayanist works like the Nidânakathâ, Sumedha's decision to become a Buddha, made while he’s lying on the ground before Dipankara, is similar to Amîda's vow. He commits to discovering the truth, so he can help humanity navigate the challenges of life, and only then achieve Nirvana.
[87] See Foucher, Iconographie Bouddhique dans l'Inde.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See Foucher, Buddhist Iconography in India.
[88] The Bhagavad-gîtâ states quite clearly the doctrine of the deathbed prayer (VIII. ad init.). "He who leaves this body and departs remembering me in his last moments comes to my essence. Whatever form (of deity) he remembers when he finally leaves this body, to that he goes having been used to ponder on it."
[88] The Bhagavad-gîtâ clearly explains the concept of the deathbed prayer (VIII. ad init.). "Whoever leaves this body and thinks of me in their final moments reaches my essence. Whatever form of deity they remember when they die, to that they go, having been accustomed to meditate on it."
[89] See art. Âdi-Buddha in E.R.E. Asanga in the Sûtrâlankâra (IX. 77) condemns the doctrine of Âdi-Buddha, showing that the term was known then, even if it had not the precise dogmatic sense which it acquired later. His argument is that no one can become a Buddha without an equipment (Sambhâra) of merit and knowledge. Such an equipment can only be obtained from a previous Buddha and therefore the series of Buddhas must extend infinitely backwards.
[89] See art. Âdi-Buddha in E.R.E. Asanga in the Sûtrâlankâra (IX. 77) criticizes the doctrine of Âdi-Buddha, indicating that the term was recognized at that time, even if it didn't have the exact dogmatic meaning it would later receive. His point is that no one can become a Buddha without acquiring a set of merits and knowledge (Sambhâra). This set can only be obtained from a previous Buddha, meaning the lineage of Buddhas must extend infinitely into the past.
[90] For the prevalence of the doctrine in mediæval Bengal see B.K. Sarkar, Folklore Element in Hindu Culture, which is however sparing of precise references. The Dharma or Nirañjana of the Śûnya Purâna seems to be equivalent to Âdi-Buddha.
[90] For the widespread belief in medieval Bengal, check out B.K. Sarkar's Folklore Element in Hindu Culture, although it doesn’t provide many specific references. The Dharma or Nirañjana of the Śûnya Purâna seems to be equivalent to Âdi-Buddha.
Sometimes the Âdi-Buddha is identified with Vajrasattva or Samantabhadra, although these beings are otherwise classified as Bodhisattvas. This appears analogous to the procedure common in Hinduism by which a devotee declares that his special deity is all the gods and the supreme spirit.
Sometimes the Âdi-Buddha is identified with Vajrasattva or Samantabhadra, even though these beings are otherwise classified as Bodhisattvas. This seems similar to the practice in Hinduism where a devotee claims that their special deity encompasses all the gods and the supreme spirit.
[91] It would appear that some of the Tantras treat of five bodies, adding to the three here given others such as the Ânandakâya, Vajrakâya and Svabhâvakâya. For this doctrine see especially De la Vallée Poussin, J.R.A.S. 1906, pp. 943-997 and Muséon, 1913, pp. 257 ff. Jigs-med nam-mká, the historian of Tibetan Buddhism, describes four. See Huth, Ges. d. Bud. in d. Mongolei, vol. II. pp. 83-89. Hinduism also assigns to living beings three bodies, the Kâraṇa-śarîra, lingaś. and sthûlaś.
[91] It seems that some of the Tantras talk about five bodies, adding to the three mentioned here others like the Ânandakâya, Vajrakâya, and Svabhâvakâya. For more on this doctrine, see especially De la Vallée Poussin, J.R.A.S. 1906, pp. 943-997 and Muséon, 1913, pp. 257 ff. Jigs-med nam-mká, a historian of Tibetan Buddhism, describes four. See Huth, Ges. d. Bud. in d. Mongolei, vol. II. pp. 83-89. Hinduism also attributes three bodies to living beings: the Kâraṇa-śarîra, lingaś, and sthûlaś.
[93] The prototype of the Sambhoga-kâya is found in the Pali Canon, for the Buddha says (Mahâparinib. Sut. III. 22) that when he appears among the different classes of gods his form and voice are similar to theirs.
[93] The example of the Sambhoga-kâya can be seen in the Pali Canon, as the Buddha states (Mahâparinib. Sut. III. 22) that when he appears among various groups of gods, his form and voice resemble theirs.
[94] Watters, vol. II. p. 38. "Spiritual essence" is Fa-shên in Chinese, i.e. Dharma-kâya. Another pass age is quoted to the effect that "henceforth the observances of all my disciples constitute the Tathâgata's Fa-shên, eternal and imperishable."
[94] Watters, vol. II. p. 38. "Spiritual essence" is Fa-shên in Chinese, i.e. Dharma-body. Another passage is quoted indicating that "from now on, the practices of all my followers represent the Tathâgata's Fa-shên, which is eternal and unchangeable."
[95] Mahâparinib. Sut. VI. i.
[96] Something similar might happen in English if think and thing were pronounced in the same way and a thing were believed to be that which we can think.
[96] Something similar could happen in English if "think" and "thing" were pronounced the same way, and if a thing was believed to be something we can think about.
CHAPTER XIX
MAHAYANIST METAPHYSICS
Thus the theory of the three bodies, especially of the Dharma-kâya, is bound up with a theory of ontology. Metaphysics became a passion among the travellers of the Great Vehicle as psychology had been in earlier times. They may indeed be reproached with being bad Buddhists since they insisted on speculating on those questions which Gotama had declared to be unprofitable and incapable of an answer in human language. He refused to pronounce on the whence, the whither and the nature of things, but bade his disciples walk in the eightfold path and analyse the human mind, because such analysis conduces to spiritual progress. India was the last country in the world where such restrictions were likely to be observed. Much Mahayanist literature is not religious at all but simply metaphysics treated in an authoritative and ecclesiastical manner. The nature and origin of the world are discussed as freely as in the Vedânta and with similar results: the old ethics and psychology receive scant attention. Yet the difference is less than might be supposed. Anyone who reads these treatises and notices the number of apparently eternal beings and the talk about the universal mind is likely to think the old doctrine that nothing has an âtman or soul, has been forgotten. But this impression is not correct; the doctrine of Nairâtmyam is asserted so uncompromisingly that from one point of view it may be said that even Buddhas do not exist. The meaning of this doctrine is that no being or object contains an unchangeable permanent self, which lives unaltered in the same or in different bodies. On the contrary individual existences consist of nothing but a collection of skandhas or a santâna, a succession or series of mental phenomena. In the Pali books this doctrine is applied chiefly to the soul and psychological enquiries. The Mahayana applied it to the external world and proved by ingenious arguments that nothing at all exists. Similarly the doctrine of Karma is maintained, though it is seriously modified by the [37] admission that merit can be transferred from one personality to another. The Mahayana continued to teach that an act once performed affects a particular series of mental states until its effect is exhausted, or in popular language that an individual enjoys or suffers through a series of births the consequences of previous acts. Even the instance of Amitâbha's paradise, though it strains the doctrine of Karma to the utmost, does not repudiate it. For the believer performs an act—to wit, the invocation of Amitâbha—to which has been attached the wonderful result that the performer is reborn in a blessed state. This is not essentially different from the idea found in the Pali Canon that attentions paid to a Buddha may be rewarded by a happy rebirth in heaven.[100]
Therefore, the theory of the three bodies, especially the Dharma-kâya, is connected to a theory of ontology. Metaphysics became a passion among the followers of the Great Vehicle, just as psychology had been in earlier times. They could be criticized for being poor Buddhists because they insisted on speculating about questions that Gotama said were unproductive and unanswerable in human language. He didn’t comment on the origins, destinations, or nature of things, but instructed his disciples to follow the eightfold path and analyze the human mind since such analysis leads to spiritual growth. India was the last place where such restrictions were likely to be followed. Much of Mahayana literature isn’t religious at all but rather metaphysics presented in an authoritative and formal manner. The nature and origin of the world are discussed as openly as in the Vedânta, with similar outcomes: traditional ethics and psychology receive little attention. However, the difference is smaller than one might think. Anyone who reads these texts and notices the number of seemingly eternal beings and discussions about the universal mind may feel that the ancient doctrine claiming nothing has an âtman or soul has been forgotten. But this impression is incorrect; the doctrine of Nairâtmyam is asserted so firmly that from one perspective, it could be said that even Buddhas do not exist. This doctrine means that no being or object possesses an unchangeable, permanent self that remains unchanged in the same or different bodies. Instead, individual existences are merely a collection of skandhas or a santâna, a succession or series of mental phenomena. In the Pali texts, this doctrine primarily applies to the soul and psychological inquiries. The Mahayana applied it to the external world and cleverly argued that nothing truly exists. Similarly, the doctrine of Karma is upheld, though it is significantly modified by the [37] admission that merit can be transferred from one person to another. The Mahayana continues to teach that an act once performed influences a particular series of mental states until its effect is exhausted, or in layman’s terms, that an individual experiences the consequences of previous actions through a series of rebirths. Even the concept of Amitâbha's paradise, although it pushes the doctrine of Karma to its limit, does not reject it. This is because the believer performs an action—specifically, invoking Amitâbha—to which a miraculous result has been attached: rebirth in a blessed state. This concept isn’t fundamentally different from the idea found in the Pali Canon that acts of devotion toward a Buddha may be rewarded with a fortunate rebirth in heaven.[100]
Mahayanist metaphysics, like all other departments of this theology, are beset by the difficulty that the authorities who treat of them are not always in accord and do not pretend to be in accord. The idea that variety is permissible in belief and conduct is deeply rooted in later Buddhism: there are many vehicles, some better than others no doubt and some very ramshackle, but all are capable of conveying their passengers to salvation. Nominally the Mahayana was divided into only two schools of philosophy: practically every important treatise propounds a system with features of its own. The two schools are the Yogâcâras and Mâdhyamikas.[101] Both are idealists and deny the reality of the external world, but whereas the Yogâcâras (also called Vijñânavâdins) admit that Vijñâna or consciousness and the series of states of which it consists are real, the Mâdhyamikas refuse the title of reality to both the subjective and the objective world and hence gained a reputation of being complete nihilists. Probably the Mâdhyamikas are the older school.
Mahayanist metaphysics, like all other areas of this theology, faces the challenge that the authorities discussing them don’t always agree and don’t claim to agree. The belief that diversity in belief and behavior is acceptable is deeply ingrained in later Buddhism: there are many vehicles, some better than others, and some quite rickety, but all can help their passengers reach salvation. Officially, the Mahayana was divided into only two philosophical schools: in practice, however, nearly every important text presents a system with its own unique traits. The two schools are the Yogâcâras and the Mâdhyamikas.[101] Both are idealists and deny the reality of the external world, but while the Yogâcâras (also known as Vijñânavâdins) acknowledge that Vijñâna or consciousness and the various states it encompasses are real, the Mâdhyamikas deny the label of reality to both the subjective and objective worlds, which has led to their reputation as complete nihilists. The Mâdhyamikas are likely the older school.
Both schools attach importance to the distinction between relative and absolute knowledge. Relative knowledge is true for human beings living in the world: that is to say it is not more false than the world of appearance in which they live. The Hinayanist doctrines are true in this sense. Absolute knowledge [38] rises above the world of appearance and is altogether true but difficult to express in words. The Yogâcâra makes three divisions, dividing the inferior knowledge into two. It distinguishes first illusory knowledge (parikalpita) such as mistaking a piece of rope for a snake or belief in the existence of individual souls. Secondly knowledge which depends on the relations of things (paratantra) and which though not absolutely wrong is necessarily limited, such as belief in the real existence of ropes and snakes. And thirdly absolute knowledge (parinishpanna), which understands all things as the manifestation of an underlying principle. The Mâdhyamikas more simply divide knowledge into samvṛiti-satya and paramârtha-satya, that is the truth of every-day life and transcendental truth. The world and ordinary religion with its doctrines and injunctions about good works are real and true as samvṛiti but in absolute truth (paramârtham) we attain Nirvana and then the world with its human Buddhas and its gods exists no more. The word śûnyam or śûnyatâ, that is void, is often used as the equivalent of paramârtham. Void must be understood as meaning not an abyss of nothingness but that which is found to be devoid of all the attributes which we try to ascribe to it. The world of ordinary experience is not void, for a great number of statements can be made about it, but absolute truth is void, because nothing whatever can be predicated of it. Yet even this colourless designation is not perfectly accurate,[102] because neither being nor not-being can be predicated of absolute truth. It is for this reason, namely that they admit neither being nor not-being but something between the two, that the followers of Nâgârjuna are known as the Mâdhyamikas or school of the middle doctrine, though the European reader is tempted to say that their theories are extreme to the point of being a reductio ad absurdum of the whole system. Yet though much of their logic seems late and useless sophistry, its affinity to early Buddhism cannot be denied. The fourfold proposition that the answer to certain questions cannot be any of the statements "is," "is not," "both is and is not," "neither is nor is not," is part of the earliest known stratum of Buddhism. The Buddha himself is represented [39] as saying[103] that most people hold either to a belief in being or to a belief in not being. But neither belief is possible for one who considers the question with full knowledge. "That things have being is one extreme: that things have no being is the other extreme. These extremes have been avoided by the Tathâgata and it is a middle doctrine that he teaches," namely, dependent origination as explained in the chain of twelve links. The Mâdhyamika theory that objects have no absolute and independent existence but appear to exist in virtue of their relations is a restatement of this ancient dictum.
Both schools emphasize the difference between relative and absolute knowledge. Relative knowledge is true for people living in the world; it’s as valid as the world of appearances they experience. The Hinayanist teachings are true in this way. Absolute knowledge rises above the world of appearances and is entirely true, though hard to articulate. The Yogâcâra classifies knowledge into three categories, splitting the lesser knowledge into two. First, it recognizes illusory knowledge (parikalpita), like mistaking a rope for a snake or believing in the existence of individual souls. Second is knowledge based on the relationships of things (paratantra), which is not absolutely wrong but inherently limited, such as the belief in the real existence of ropes and snakes. Lastly, there’s absolute knowledge (parinishpanna), which comprehends all things as manifestations of an underlying principle. The Mâdhyamikas more simply categorize knowledge into samvṛiti-satya and paramârtha-satya, meaning the truth of everyday life and transcendental truth. The world and everyday religion, with its teachings and guidelines regarding good deeds, are real and true as samvṛiti, but in absolute truth (paramârtham), we reach Nirvana, after which the world, its human Buddhas, and its gods cease to exist. The term śûnyam or śûnyatâ, meaning void, is often used interchangeably with paramârtham. Void should be understood not as a deep nothingness but rather as that which lacks all the attributes we try to assign to it. The world of ordinary experience is not void, as many statements can be made about it, but absolute truth is void because nothing can be attributed to it. However, even this neutral description isn’t entirely precise,[102] because neither existence nor non-existence can be ascribed to absolute truth. This is why the followers of Nâgârjuna are known as the Mâdhyamikas or the school of the middle doctrine; although a European reader might find their theories to lean toward extreme absurdity. Yet, while their logic may seem outdated and unnecessary, its connection to early Buddhism is undeniable. The fourfold proposition that the answer to certain questions cannot belong to any of the statements "is," "is not," "both is and is not," "neither is nor is not" is part of the earliest known teachings of Buddhism. The Buddha is depicted [39] as saying[103] that most people cling to either a belief in existence or a belief in non-existence. But neither belief holds for someone who examines the question with full understanding. "That things exist is one extreme; that things do not exist is the other extreme. These extremes have been avoided by the Tathâgata, and he teaches a middle doctrine," specifically, dependent origination as explained in the chain of twelve links. The Mâdhyamika theory that objects lack absolute and independent existence but seem to exist due to their relationships is a restatement of this ancient principle.
The Mahayanist doctors find an ethical meaning in their negations. If things possessed svabhâva, real, absolute, self-determined existence, then the four truths and especially the cessation of suffering and attainment of sanctity would be impossible. For if things were due not to causation but to their own self-determining nature (and the Hindus always seem to understand real existence in this sense) cessation of evil and attainment of the good would be alike impossible: the four Noble Truths imply a world which is in a state of constant becoming, that is a world which is not really existent.
The Mahayanist thinkers see an ethical significance in their negations. If things had svabhâva, meaning real, absolute, self-determined existence, then the four truths, especially the end of suffering and achieving holiness, would be impossible. Because if things existed not due to causation but because of their own self-determining nature (and the Hindus often seem to interpret real existence this way), then eliminating evil and achieving good would also be impossible: the four Noble Truths suggest a world that is always in the process of change, which means a world that doesn't truly exist.
But for all that the doctrine of śûnyatâ as stated in the Mâdhyamika aphorisms ascribed to Nâgârjuna leaves an impression of audacious and ingenious sophistry. After laying down that every object in the world exists only in relation to every other object and has no self-existence, the treatise proceeds to prove that rest and motion are alike impossible. We speak about the path along which we are passing but there is really no such thing, for if we divide the path accurately, it always proves separable into the part which has been passed over and the part which will be passed over. There is no part which is being passed over. This of course amounts to a denial of the existence of present time. Time consists of past and future separated by an indivisible and immeasurable instant. The minimum of time which has any meaning for us implies a change, and two elements, a former and a subsequent. The present minute or the present hour are fallacious expressions.[104] [40] Therefore no one ever is passing along a path. Again you cannot logically say that the passer is passing, for the sentence is redundant: the verb adds nothing to the noun and vice versa: but on the other hand you clearly cannot say that the non-passer is passing. Again if you say that the passer and the passing are identical, you overlook the distinction between the agent and the act and both become unreal. But you cannot maintain that the passer is different from the passing, for a passer as distinct from passing and passing as distinct from a passer have no meaning. "But how can two entities exist at all, if they exist neither as identical with one another nor as different from one another?"
But even so, the idea of śûnyatâ as explained in the Mâdhyamika sayings attributed to Nâgârjuna comes off as bold and clever sophistry. After stating that every object in the world exists only in relation to every other object and has no independent existence, the text goes on to show that both rest and motion are impossible. We talk about the path we are on, but there really isn't one, because if we were to divide the path precisely, it always breaks down into the part we've already traveled and the part we will travel. There isn't any part that is actively being traveled. This essentially denies the existence of the present moment. Time consists of the past and future, separated by an indivisible and immeasurable instant. The smallest unit of time that has any meaning for us suggests a change, involving a previous and a subsequent element. Terms like the present minute or the present hour are misleading.[104] [40] So, no one is ever passing along a path. You also can't logically say that the passer is passing, because that statement is redundant: the verb doesn't add anything to the noun and vice versa: but you also can't say that the non-passer is passing. If you claim that the passer and the passing are the same, you miss the difference between the doer and the action, making both irrelevant. But you can’t argue that the passer is different from the passing, because a passer distinct from passing and passing distinct from a passer have no meaning. "But how can two things exist at all, if they are neither the same nor different from each other?"
The above, though much abridged, gives an idea of the logic of these sûtras. They proceed to show that all manner of things, such as the five skandhas, the elements, contact, attachment, fire and fuel, origination, continuation and extinction have no real existence. Similar reasoning is then applied to religious topics: the world of transmigration as well as bondage and liberation are declared non-existent. In reality no soul is in bondage and none is released.[105] Similarly Karma, the Buddha himself, the four truths, Nirvana and the twelve links in the chain of causation are all unreal. This is not a declaration of scepticism. It means that the Buddha as a human or celestial being and Nirvana as a state attainable in this world are conceivable only in connection with this world and therefore, like the world, unreal. No religious idea can enter into the unreal (that is the practical) life of the world unless it is itself unreal. This sounds a topsy turvy argument but it is really the same as the Advaita doctrine. The Vedânta is on the one hand a scheme of salvation for liberating souls which transmigrate unceasingly in a world ruled by a personal God. But when true knowledge is attained, the soul sees that it is identical with the Highest Brahman and that souls which are in bondage and God who rules the world are illusions like the world itself. But the Advaita has at least a verbal superiority over the Mâdhyamika philosophy, for in its terminology Brahman is the real and the existent contrasted with the world of illusion. The result of giving to what the Advaita calls the real and existent the name of śûnyatâ or [41] void is disconcerting. To say that everything without distinction is non-existent is much the same as saying that everything is existent. It only means that a wrong sense is habitually given to the word exist, as if it meant to be self-contained and without relation to other objects. Unless we can make a verbal contrast and assert that there is something which does exist, it seems futile to insist on the unreality of the world. Yet this mode of thought is not confined to text-books on logic. It invades the scriptures, and appears (for instance) in the Diamond Cutter[106] which is still one of the most venerated books of devotion in China and Japan. In this work the Buddha explains that a Bodhisattva must resolve to deliver all living beings and yet must understand that after he has thus delivered innumerable beings, no one has been delivered. And why? Because no one is to be called a Bodhisattva for whom there exists the idea of a being, or person. Similarly a saint does not think that he is a saint, for if he did so think, he would believe in a self, and a person. There occur continually in this work phrases cast in the following form: "what was preached as a store of merit, that was preached as no store of merit[107] by the Tathâgata and therefore it is called a store of merit. If there existed a store of merit, the Tathâgata would not have preached a store of merit." That is to say, if I understand this dark language rightly, accumulated merit is part of the world of illusion which we live in and by speaking of it as he did the Buddha implied that it, like everything else in the world, is really non-existent. Did it belong to the sphere of absolute truth, he would not have spoken of it as if it were one of the things commonly but erroneously supposed to exist. Finally we are told of the highest knowledge "Even the smallest thing is not known or perceived there; therefore it is called the highest perfect knowledge." That is to say perfect knowledge transcends all distinctions; it recognises the illusory nature of all individuality and the truth of sameness, the never-changing one behind the ever-changing many. In this sense it is said to perceive nothing and know nothing.
The above, although much shortened, gives an idea of the logic behind these sûtras. They demonstrate that all sorts of things, such as the five skandhas, elements, contact, attachment, fire and fuel, origination, continuation, and extinction have no real existence. Similar reasoning is then applied to religious topics: the world of transmigration, bondage, and liberation are declared non-existent. In reality, no soul is in bondage, and none is released.[105] Similarly, Karma, the Buddha himself, the four truths, Nirvana, and the twelve links in the chain of causation are all unreal. This isn’t a declaration of skepticism. It means that the Buddha as a human or divine being and Nirvana as a state achievable in this world can only be understood in relation to this world and are therefore, like the world, unreal. No religious idea can enter the unreal (that is, the practical) life of the world unless it is itself unreal. This might sound like a confusing argument, but it actually aligns with the Advaita doctrine. The Vedânta on one hand is a belief system for liberating souls that continuously transmigrate in a world governed by a personal God. However, when true knowledge is gained, the soul realizes it is identical with the Highest Brahman, and that the souls in bondage and the God who rules the world are illusions, just like the world itself. But Advaita at least has a terminology advantage over the Mâdhyamika philosophy, as in its language, Brahman is real and existent, contrasting with the world of illusion. Calling what Advaita sees as real and existent by the name of śûnyatâ or [41] void is perplexing. To say that everything is non-existent is almost the same as saying everything exists. It just means that the word exist is often misinterpreted as if it means to be self-contained and unrelated to other objects. Unless we can make a verbal distinction and assert that there is something that does exist, it seems pointless to insist on the unreality of the world. Yet this line of thinking isn’t limited to logic textbooks. It appears in scriptures and shows up (for example) in the Diamond Cutter[106] which remains one of the most revered texts of devotion in China and Japan. In this work, the Buddha explains that a Bodhisattva must resolve to save all living beings but must also understand that after saving countless beings, no one has actually been saved. And why? Because no one can be considered a Bodhisattva for whom the idea of a being or person exists. Similarly, a saint doesn’t think of themselves as a saint, because if they did, they would believe in a self and a person. This work repeatedly includes phrases in this form: "what was preached as a store of merit, that was preached as no store of merit[107] by the Tathâgata and therefore it is called a store of merit. If there existed a store of merit, the Tathâgata would not have preached a store of merit." In other words, if I understand this difficult wording correctly, accumulated merit is part of the illusory world we inhabit, and by referring to it as he did, the Buddha suggested that it, like everything else in the world, is really non-existent. If it belonged to the realm of absolute truth, he wouldn’t have spoken about it as if it were one of the things commonly but mistakenly thought to exist. Finally, we are told about the highest knowledge: "Even the smallest thing is not known or perceived there; therefore it is called the highest perfect knowledge." This means perfect knowledge goes beyond all distinctions; it recognizes the illusory nature of all individuality and the truth of sameness, the unchanging one behind the ever-changing many. In this sense, it is said to perceive nothing and know nothing.
One might expect that a philosophy thus prone to use [42] the language of extreme nihilism would slip into a destructive, or at least negative system. But Mahayanism was pulled equally strongly in the opposite direction by the popular and mythological elements which it contained and was on the whole inclined to theism and even polytheism quite as much as to atheism and acosmism. A modern Japanese writer[108] says that Dharma-kâya "may be considered to be equivalent to the Christian conception of the Godhead." This is excessive as a historical statement of the view current in India during the early centuries of our era, but it does seem true that Dharma-kâya was made the equivalent of the Hindu conception of Param Brahma and also that it is very nearly equivalent to the Chinese Tao.[109]
One might think that a philosophy that often uses the language of extreme nihilism would end up being destructive, or at least negative. However, Mahayanism was just as strongly influenced by the popular and mythological elements it contained, leaning towards theism and even polytheism as much as it did towards atheism and acosmism. A modern Japanese writer[108] says that Dharma-kâya "can be seen as equivalent to the Christian idea of God." While this might be an exaggerated historical interpretation of the views held in India during the early centuries of our era, it does appear that Dharma-kâya was equated with the Hindu concept of Param Brahma and is also very similar to the Chinese Tao.[109]
The work called Awakening of Faith[110] and ascribed to Aśvaghosha is not extant in Sanskrit but was translated into Chinese in 553 A.D. Its doctrine is practically that of the Yogâcâra school and this makes the ascription doubtful, but it is a most important treatise. It is regarded as authoritative in China and Japan at the present day and it illustrates the triple tendency of the Mahayana towards metaphysics, mythology, and devotional piety. It declares that faith has four aspects. Three of these are the three Jewels, or Buddha, the Law and the Church, and cover between them the whole field of religion and morality as generally understood. The exposition is tinged with a fine unselfish emotion and tells the believer that though he should strive not for his own emancipation but for the salvation of others yet he himself receives unselfish and supernatural assistance. He is remembered and guarded by Buddhas and Bodhisattvas in all quarters of the Universe who are eternally trying to liberate mankind by various expedients (upâya). By expedient is meant a modified presentment of the truth, which is easier of comprehension and, if not the goal, at least on the road to it, such as the Paradise of Amitâbha.[111]
The work titled Awakening of Faith[110] attributed to Aśvaghosha is not available in Sanskrit but was translated into Chinese in 553 A.D. Its teachings closely align with the Yogâcâra school, which raises questions about its attribution, but it is still a very important text. It is considered authoritative in China and Japan today and reflects the three main focuses of Mahayana Buddhism: metaphysics, mythology, and devotional piety. It states that faith has four aspects. Three of these represent the three Jewels—Buddha, the Law, and the Church—and together they encompass the entire realm of religion and morality as generally understood. The discussion is filled with a beautiful selfless sentiment, telling believers that while they should seek not just their own liberation but also the salvation of others, they will still receive selfless and supernatural help. Buddhas and Bodhisattvas from all over the Universe remember and protect them, constantly working to free humanity through various means (upâya). By "expedient," it refers to a modified presentation of the truth that is easier to understand and, if not the ultimate goal, at least a step towards it, like the Paradise of Amitâbha.[111]
But the remaining aspect of faith, which is the one that the author puts first in his enumeration, and treats at great length, is "to believe in the fundamental truth, that is to think joyfully of suchness." By suchness (in Sanskrit bhûta-tathatâ, in Chinese Chên ju) is meant absolute truth as contrasted with the relative truth of ordinary experience.[112] The word is not illuminating nor likely to excite religious emotion and the most that can be said for it is that it is less dreary than the void of Nâgârjuna. Another and more positive synonym is dharma-dhâtu, the all-embracing totality of things. It is only through our ignorance and subjectivity that things appear distinct and individuate. Could we transcend this subjectivity, isolated objects would cease to exist. Things in their fundamental nature cannot be named or explained: they are beyond the range of language and perception: they have no signs of distinction but possess absolute sameness (samatâ). From this totality of things nothing can be excluded and to it nothing can be added. Yet it is also śûnyatâ, negation or the void, because it cannot be said to possess any of the attributes of the world we live in: neither existence nor non-existence, nor unity nor plurality can be predicted of it. According to the celebrated formula of Nâgârjuna known as the eight Nos there is in it "neither production (utpâda) nor destruction (uccheda) nor annihilation (nirodha) nor persistence (sasvatâ) nor unity (ekârtha) nor plurality (nânârtha) nor coming in (âgamana) nor going out (nirgama)." But when we perceive that both subject and object are unreal we also see that suchness is the one reality and from that point of view it may be regarded as the Dharma-kâya of all Buddhas. It is also called Tathâgatagarbha, the womb or store-house of the Buddha, from which all individual existences are evolved under the law of causation, but this aspect of it is already affected by ignorance, for in Bhûta-tathatâ as known in the light of the highest truth there is neither causation nor production. The Yogâcâra employs the word śûnyatâ (void), though not so much as its sister school, but it makes special use of the term âlaya-vijñâna, the receptacle or store of consciousness. This in so far as it is superindividual is an aspect of suchness, but when it affirms and particularises itself it becomes citta, that is the human mind, or to be more [44] accurate the substratum of the human mind from which is developed manas, or the principle of will, self-consciousness and self-affirmation. Similarly the Vedânta philosophy, though it has no term corresponding to âlaya-vijñâna, is familiar with the idea that Brahman is in one aspect immeasurable and all-embracing but in another is infinitesimal and dwells in the human heart: or that Brahman after creating the world entered into it. Again another aspect of suchness is enlightenment (bodhi), that is absolute knowledge free from the limitations of subject and object. This "is the universal Dharma-kâya of the Tathâgatas" and on account of this all Tathâgatas are spoken of as abiding in enlightenment a priori. This enlightenment may be negative (as śûnyata) in the sense that it transcends all relations but it may also be affirmative and then "it transforms and unfolds itself, whenever conditions are favourable, in the form of a Tathâgata or some other form in order that all beings may be induced to bring their store of merit to maturity."[113]
But the last aspect of faith, which the author emphasizes first in his list and explores at length, is "to believe in the fundamental truth, which is to joyfully think about suchness." By suchness (in Sanskrit bhûta-tathatâ, in Chinese Chên ju), we mean absolute truth as opposed to the relative truth of everyday experience.[112] The term isn’t particularly enlightening and isn’t likely to stir religious feelings; the best thing we can say about it is that it’s less bleak than Nâgârjuna's idea of the void. A more positive term is dharma-dhâtu, which refers to the all-encompassing totality of things. It’s only due to our ignorance and subjectivity that things seem distinct and separate. If we could rise above this subjectivity, individual objects would cease to exist. At their core, things can’t be named or explained: they lie beyond language and perception; they don’t have distinguishing features but share absolute sameness (samatâ). Nothing can be excluded from this totality, nor can anything be added to it. Yet it is also śûnyatâ, meaning negation or void, as it doesn’t possess any of the attributes of the world we inhabit: we can’t describe it as having existence or non-existence, unity or plurality. According to the well-known formula of Nâgârjuna known as the eight Nos, in it there is "neither production (utpâda) nor destruction (uccheda) nor annihilation (nirodha) nor persistence (sasvatâ) nor unity (ekârtha) nor plurality (nânârtha) nor coming in (âgamana) nor going out (nirgama)." However, when we realize that both subject and object are not real, we also recognize that suchness is the one reality, and from this perspective, it can be seen as the Dharma-kâya of all Buddhas. It is also referred to as Tathâgatagarbha, the womb or storehouse of the Buddha, from which all individual existences emerge under the law of causation, but this aspect is already influenced by ignorance, as in Bhûta-tathatâ understood through the lens of the highest truth, there is neither causation nor production. The Yogâcâra school uses the word śûnyatâ (void), though not as frequently as its sister school, but it places special emphasis on the term âlaya-vijñâna, the receptacle or store of consciousness. To the extent that it is superindividual, this is an aspect of suchness, but when it asserts and specifies itself, it becomes citta, which refers to the human mind, or more specifically, the substratum of the human mind from which manas develops, the principle of will, self-consciousness, and self-affirmation. Similarly, the Vedânta philosophy, although it doesn’t have a term equivalent to âlaya-vijñâna, understands that Brahman is in one sense immeasurable and all-encompassing but in another sense is infinitesimal and resides within the human heart: or that Brahman, after creating the world, entered into it. Another aspect of suchness is enlightenment (bodhi), which means absolute knowledge free from the limitations of subject and object. This "is the universal Dharma-kâya of the Tathâgatas" and for this reason, all Tathâgatas are described as existing in enlightenment a priori. This enlightenment can be negative (as śûnyata) in the sense that it goes beyond all relationships, but it can also be affirmative, where "it transforms and unfolds itself, whenever conditions are favorable, in the form of a Tathâgata or some other form so that all beings may be encouraged to mature their store of merit."[113]
It will be seen from the above that the absolute truth of the Mahayanists varies from a severely metaphysical conception, the indescribable thing in itself, to something very like an all-pervading benevolent essence which from time to time takes shape in a Buddha. And here we see how easy is the transition from the old Buddhism to a form of pantheism. For if we admit that the Buddha is a superhuman intelligence appearing from time to time according to a certain law, we add little to this statement by saying that the essence or spirit of the cosmos manifests itself from time to time as a Buddha. Only, such words as essence or spirit are not really correct. The world of individuals is the same as the highest truth, the same as the Dharma-kâya, the same as Nirvana. It is only through ignorance that it appears to be different and particularized. Ignorance, the essence of which consists in believing in the distinction between subject and object, is also called defilement and the highest truth passes through various stages of defilement ending with that where under the influence of egoism and passion the external world of particulars is believed to be everything. But the various stages may influence one another[114] so that under a higher influence the mind which is involved in subjectivity [45] begins to long for Nirvana. Yet Nirvana is not something different from or beyond the world of experience; it does not really involve annihilation of the skandhas. Just as in the Advaita he who has the true knowledge sees that he himself and everything else is Brahman, so for the Mahayanist all things are seen to be Nirvana, to be the Dharma-kâya. It is sometimes[115] said that there are four kinds of Nirvana (a) absolute Nirvana, which is a synonym of the Dharma-kâya and in that sense universally present in all beings, (b) upadhiśesha-nirvâṇa, the state of enlightenment which can be attained during life, while the body with its limitations still remains, (c) anupadhiśesha-nirvâṇa, a higher degree of the same state attained after death when the hindrances of the body are removed, (d) Nirvana without abode or apratishṭhita-nirvâṇa. Those who attain to this understand that there is no real antithesis between Samsâra and Nirvana:[116] they do not seek for rest or emancipation but devote themselves to beneficent activity and to leading their fellows to salvation. Although these statements that Nirvana and Samsâra are the same are not at all in the manner of the older Buddhism, yet this ideal of disinterested activity combined with Nirvana is not inconsistent with the portrait of Gotama preserved in the Pali Canon.
It can be seen from the above that the absolute truth of the Mahayanists ranges from a strict metaphysical idea of the indescribable thing in itself to something resembling an all-encompassing benevolent essence that occasionally takes the form of a Buddha. This shows how easily one can shift from traditional Buddhism to a type of pantheism. If we accept that the Buddha is a superhuman intelligence appearing from time to time according to a certain law, saying that the essence or spirit of the cosmos manifests itself as a Buddha adds little to this statement. However, terms like essence or spirit aren't entirely accurate. The world of individuals is the same as the highest truth, the same as the Dharma-kâya, and the same as Nirvana. It only seems different and specific due to ignorance. Ignorance, which is fundamentally the belief in the distinction between subject and object, is also referred to as defilement, and the highest truth goes through various stages of defilement until it reaches a point where, under the influence of ego and passion, the external world of particulars is believed to be everything. The different stages can influence each other so that under a higher influence, the mind entrenched in subjectivity begins to long for Nirvana. Yet, Nirvana is not something separate from or beyond the world of experience; it does not entail the annihilation of the skandhas. Just as in Advaita, where someone with true knowledge sees that they and everything else are Brahman, for the Mahayanist, all things are seen as Nirvana, as the Dharma-kâya. It's sometimes said there are four kinds of Nirvana: (a) absolute Nirvana, which is synonymous with the Dharma-kâya and in that sense is universally present in all beings, (b) upadhiśesha-nirvâṇa, the state of enlightenment that can be reached during life while still having a body with its limitations, (c) anupadhiśesha-nirvâṇa, a higher degree of that same state reached after death when the hindrances of the body are removed, and (d) Nirvana without abode or apratishṭhita-nirvâṇa. Those who attain this understand that there is no real opposition between Samsâra and Nirvana; they do not seek rest or liberation but engage in beneficial activity and guiding others to salvation. Although the statements that Nirvana and Samsâra are the same do not align with older Buddhism, this ideal of selfless activity combined with Nirvana is not inconsistent with the portrayal of Gotama found in the Pali Canon.
The Mahayanist Buddhism of the Far East makes free use of such phrases as the Buddha in the heart, the Buddha mind and the Buddha nature. These seem to represent such Sanskrit terms as Buddhatva and Bodhicitta which can receive either an ethical or a metaphysical emphasis. The former line of thought is well shown in Śântideva[117] who treats Bodhicitta as the initial impulse and motive power of the religious life, combining intellectual illumination and unselfish devotion to the good of others. Thus regarded it is a guiding and stimulating principle somewhat analogous to the Holy Spirit in Christianity. But the Bodhicitta is also the essential quality of a Buddha (and the Holy Spirit too is a member of the Trinity) and in so far as a man has the Bodhicitta he is one with all Buddhas. [46] This conception is perhaps secondary in Buddhism but it is also as old as the Upanishads and only another form of the doctrine that the spirit in every man (antaryâmin) is identical with the Supreme Spirit. It is developed in many works still popular in the Far East[118] and was the fundamental thesis of Bodhidharma, the founder of the Zen school. But the practical character of the Chinese and Japanese has led them to attach more importance to the moral and intellectual side of this doctrine than to the metaphysical and pantheistic side.
The Mahayana Buddhism of the Far East frequently uses phrases like the Buddha in the heart, the Buddha mind, and the Buddha nature. These seem to represent Sanskrit terms such as Buddhatva and Bodhicitta, which can have either an ethical or a metaphysical focus. The ethical perspective is clearly illustrated in Śântideva[117], who views Bodhicitta as the initial motivation and driving force of the spiritual life, blending intellectual insight and selfless devotion to the well-being of others. In this sense, it serves as a guiding and inspiring principle somewhat similar to the Holy Spirit in Christianity. However, Bodhicitta is also the essential quality of a Buddha (and the Holy Spirit is likewise a part of the Trinity), and to the extent that a person possesses Bodhicitta, they are united with all Buddhas. [46] This idea is perhaps secondary in Buddhism, but it is also as old as the Upanishads and just another version of the doctrine that the spirit within each person (antaryâmin) is the same as the Supreme Spirit. It is explored in many works that remain popular in the Far East[118], and it was the core principle of Bodhidharma, the founder of the Zen school. However, the practical nature of the Chinese and Japanese has led them to place more emphasis on the moral and intellectual aspects of this doctrine rather than its metaphysical and pantheistic elements.
FOOTNOTES:
[100] E.g. in Mahâparinib. Sut. IV. 57, the Buddha says "There has been laid up by Cunda the smith (who had given him his last meal) a karma, redounding to length of life, to good fortune, to good fame, to the inheritance of heaven, and of sovereign power."
[100] For example, in Mahâparinib. Sut. IV. 57, the Buddha says, "Cunda the smith (who provided him with his last meal) has accumulated karma that leads to a long life, good luck, a positive reputation, a share in heaven, and ultimate authority."
[101] Strictly speaking Madhyamaka is the name of the school Mâdhyamika of its adherents. Both forms are used, e.g. Madhyamakakârikâs and Mâdhyamikasûtra.
[101] Strictly speaking, Madhyamaka refers to the school Mâdhyamika of its followers. Both terms are used, e.g. Madhyamakakârikâs and Mâdhyamikasûtra.
[102] Nâgârjuna says Śûnyam iti na vaktavyam aśûnyam iti va bhavet Ubhayam nobhayam ceti prâjñâptyartham tu kathyate, "It cannot be called void or not void or both or neither but in order to somehow indicate it, it is called Śûnyatâ."
[102] Nâgârjuna says that it shouldn't be labeled as void or not void, or both, or neither. Instead, to give it some kind of indication, it's referred to as Śûnyatâ.
[103] Sam. Nik. XXII. 90. 16.
[104] Gotama, the founder of the Nyâya philosophy, also admitted the force of the arguments against the existence of present time but regarded them as a reductio ad absurdum. Shadworth Hodgson in his Philosophy of Reflection, vol. I. p. 253 also treats of the question.
[104] Gotama, the founder of the Nyâya philosophy, also acknowledged the strength of the arguments against the existence of present time but saw them as a reductio ad absurdum. Shadworth Hodgson in his Philosophy of Reflection, vol. I. p. 253 also discusses the issue.
[110] Translated from the Chinese by Teitaro Suzuki, 1900. The translation must be used with care, as its frequent use of the word soul may lead to misunderstanding.
[110] Translated from the Chinese by Teitaro Suzuki, 1900. The translation should be approached with caution, as its repeated use of the word soul could cause confusion.
[111] Asaṅga's work Mahâyâna-sûtrâlankâra (edited and translated by S. Lévi) which covers much of the same ground is extant in Sanskrit as well as in Chinese and Tibetan translations. It is a lucid and authoritative treatise but does not appear to have ever been popular, or to be read now in the Far East. For Yogâcâra see also Muséon, 1904, p. 370.
[111] Asaṅga's work Mahâyâna-sûtrâlankâra (edited and translated by S. Lévi), which covers much of the same material, exists in Sanskrit, as well as in Chinese and Tibetan translations. It's a clear and authoritative treatise, but it doesn't seem to have ever gained popularity or be read now in the Far East. For Yogâcâra, see also Muséon, 1904, p. 370.
[115] Vijñânamâtra Śâstra. Chinese version quoted by Teitaro Suzuki, Outlines of Mahâyâna Buddhism, p. 343. Apparently both upâdhi and upadhi are used in Buddhist Sanskrit. Upâdi is the Pali form.
[115] Vijñânamâtra Śâstra. The Chinese version is referenced by Teitaro Suzuki in Outlines of Mahâyâna Buddhism, p. 343. It seems that both upâdhi and upadhi appear in Buddhist Sanskrit. Upâdi is the Pali version.
[118] E.g. the Ṕu-t́i-hsin-li-hsiang-lun (Nanjio, 1304), translated from Nâgârjuna, and the Ta-Ch'êng-fa-chieh-wu-ch́a-pieh-lun, translated from Sthiramati (Nanjio, 1258).
[118] For example, the Ṕu-t́i-hsin-li-hsiang-lun (Nanjio, 1304), translated from Nâgârjuna, and the Ta-Ch'êng-fa-chieh-wu-ch́a-pieh-lun, translated from Sthiramati (Nanjio, 1258).
CHAPTER XX
MAHAYANIST SCRIPTURES
In a previous chapter I have discussed the Pali Canon and I shall subsequently have something to say about the Chinese and Tibetan Canons, which are libraries of religious and edifying works rather than sacred books similar to the Vedas or the Bible. My present object is to speak of the Sanskrit literature, chiefly sutras, which appeared contemporaneously with the rise of Mahayanism in India.
In a previous chapter, I talked about the Pali Canon, and next, I’ll discuss the Chinese and Tibetan Canons, which are collections of religious and enlightening texts rather than sacred books like the Vedas or the Bible. My current focus is on Sanskrit literature, mainly sutras, that emerged alongside the rise of Mahayanism in India.
The Mahayanist scriptures are the largest body of sacred writings extant in the world, but it is not easy either to define the limits of the Canon or to say when it was put together. According to a common tradition Kanishka played for the Church of the Great Vehicle much the same part as Asoka for the Theravâdins and summoned a Council which wrote commentaries on the Tripitaka. This may be reasonably held to include a recension of the text commented on but we do not know what that text was, and the brief and perplexing accounts of the Council which we possess indicate not that it gave its imprimatur to Mahayanist sutras but that it was specially concerned with the Abhidharma works of the Sarvâstivâdin school.
The Mahayanist scriptures are the largest collection of sacred writings still existing in the world, but it’s not easy to define the boundaries of the Canon or to determine when it was compiled. According to a common tradition, Kanishka played a role for the Church of the Great Vehicle similar to that of Asoka for the Theravādins and convened a Council that produced commentaries on the Tripitaka. This might reasonably be thought to include a version of the text that was commented on, but we don’t know what that text was. The brief and confusing accounts of the Council that we have indicate that it didn’t endorse Mahayanist sutras but was specifically focused on the Abhidharma works of the Sarvāstivādin school.
In any case no Canon formed in the time of Kanishka can have been equivalent to the collections of writings accepted to-day in China and Tibet, for they contain works later than any date which can be assigned to his reign, as do also the nine sacred books revered in Nepal. It was agreed among Indian Buddhists that the scriptures were divided among the three Pitakas or baskets, but we may surmise that there was no unanimity as to the precise contents of each basket. In India the need for unanimity in such matters is not felt. The Brahmans always recognized that the most holy and most jealously preserved scriptures could exist in various recensions and the Mahabharata shows how generations of respectful and uncritical hearers may allow adventitious matter of all sorts [48] to be incorporated in a work. Something of the same kind happened with the Pitakas. We know that the Pali recension which we possess was not the only one, for fragments of a Sanskrit version have been discovered.
In any case, no canon formed during Kanishka's time can be equivalent to the collections of writings accepted today in China and Tibet, since they include works that are later than any date we can assign to his reign, as do the nine sacred books respected in Nepal. Indian Buddhists agreed that the scriptures were divided among the three Pitakas or baskets, but we can guess that there was no agreement on the exact contents of each basket. In India, there isn’t a strong need for uniformity in such matters. The Brahmans always acknowledged that the most sacred and carefully preserved scriptures could exist in various versions, and the Mahabharata illustrates how generations of respectful and uncritical listeners might allow all sorts of additional material [48] to be incorporated into a work. A similar situation occurred with the Pitakas. We know that the Pali version we have is not the only one, as fragments of a Sanskrit version have been found.
There was probably a large floating literature of sutras, often presenting several recensions of the same document worked up in different ways. Just as additions were made to the list of Upanishads up to the middle ages, although the character of the later works was different from that of the earlier, so new sutras, modern in date and in tone, were received in the capacious basket. And just as the Puranas were accepted as sacred books without undermining the authority of the Vedas, so new Buddhist scriptures superseded without condemning the old ones. Various Mahayanist schools had their own versions of the Vinaya which apparently contain the same rules as the Pali text but also much additional narrative, and Asanga quotes from works corresponding to the Pali Nikâyas, though his doctrine belongs to another age.[119] The Abhidharma section of the Pali Canon seems however to have been peculiar to the Theravâda school. The Sarvâstivâdin Pitaka of the same name was entirely different and, judging from the Chinese Canon, the Mahayanists gave the title to philosophic works by such authors as Asanga and Vasubandhu, some of which were described as revelations from Maitreya.
There was likely a vast collection of sutras, often featuring multiple versions of the same document presented in different ways. Just as new additions were made to the list of Upanishads until the Middle Ages—despite the later works having a different character than the earlier ones—new sutras, contemporary in date and tone, were accepted into the broad collection. Similarly, while the Puranas were embraced as sacred texts without diminishing the authority of the Vedas, new Buddhist scriptures were adopted without condemning the older ones. Various Mahayanist schools had their own versions of the Vinaya, which seemingly included the same rules as the Pali text but also provided much additional narrative. Asanga referenced works that matched the Pali Nikâyas, even though his teachings belonged to a different era.[119] However, the Abhidharma section of the Pali Canon appears to be unique to the Theravâda school. The Sarvâstivâdin Pitaka of the same name was completely different, and based on the Chinese Canon, the Mahayanists used the title for philosophical works by authors like Asanga and Vasubandhu, some of which were described as revelations from Maitreya.
Specially characteristic of Mahayanist Buddhism are the Vaipulya[120] sutras, that is sutras of great extension or development. These works, of which the Lotus is an example, follow the same scheme as the older sutras but are of wider scope and on a much larger scale, for they often consist of twenty or more chapters. They usually attempt to give a general exposition of the whole Dharma, or at least of some aspect of it which is [49] extolled as sufficient for the right conduct of life. The chief speaker is usually the Buddha, who is introduced as teaching on the Vulture Peak, or some other well-known locality, and surrounded by a great assemblage many of whom are superhuman beings. The occasion of the discourse is commonly signalized by his sending forth rays of light which illuminate the universe until the scene includes other worlds. As early as the Anguttara Nikâya[121] we find references to the danger of a taste for ornate and poetic sutras and these compositions seem to be the outcome of that taste. The literary ideas and methods which produced them are illustrated by the Sûtrâlankâra of Aśvaghosha, a collection of edifying tales, many of which use the materials supplied by the Pali Nikâyas and Vinaya but present them in a more effective and artistic form. It was thought a pious task to amplify and embellish the simple narratives handed down by tradition.
Characteristic of Mahayana Buddhism are the Vaipulya[120] sutras, which are extensive or developed texts. These works, with the Lotus being one example, follow a similar structure to the older sutras but are broader in scope and on a much larger scale, often consisting of twenty or more chapters. They typically aim to provide a general overview of the entire Dharma, or at least focus on some aspect of it that is [49] highlighted as sufficient for living a good life. The main speaker is usually the Buddha, who is portrayed teaching on Vulture Peak or another familiar location, surrounded by a large assembly, many of whom are supernatural beings. The occasion of the talk is often marked by him emitting rays of light that illuminate the universe, expanding the scene to include other worlds. References to the dangers of a preference for ornate and poetic sutras can be found as early as the Anguttara Nikâya[121], and these writings seem to be a result of that preference. The literary ideas and methods that led to their creation are exemplified by the Sûtrâlankâra of Aśvaghosha, a collection of enlightening stories, many of which draw on material from the Pali Nikâyas and Vinaya but present it in a more engaging and artistic manner. It was considered a virtuous endeavor to elaborate on and enhance the simple stories passed down through tradition.
The Mahayanist scriptures are composed in Sanskrit not in Pali, but it is only rarely—for instance in the works of Aśvaghosha—that Buddhist Sanskrit conforms to the rules of the classical language. Usually the words deviate from this standard both in form and meaning and often suggest that the text as we have it is a Sanskritized version of an older work in some popular dialect, brought into partial conformity with literary usage. In the poetical portions, this process of sanskritization encountered greater difficulties than in prose, because metre and prosody often refused to admit the changes required by grammar, so that this poetical dialect cannot be called either Sanskrit, Pali or Magadhi but remains a mixture of learned and popular speech. But Sanskrit did not become a sacred language for the Mahayanists like Latin for Roman Catholics. It is rather Pali which has assumed this position among the Hinayanists, for Burmese and Sinhalese translations of the Pitakas acquired no authority. But in the north the principle[122] that every man might read the Buddha's word in his own vernacular was usually respected: and the populations of Central Asia, the Chinese, the Tibetans, and the Mongols translated the scriptures into their [50] own languages without attaching any superstitious importance to the original words, unless they were Dhâraṇîs or spells.
The Mahayanist scriptures are written in Sanskrit rather than Pali, but it's only occasionally—like in the works of Aśvaghosha—that Buddhist Sanskrit follows the rules of classical language. Typically, the language strays from this standard in both form and meaning, suggesting that what we have is a Sanskritized version of an older text in some common dialect, partly adjusted to fit literary conventions. In the poetic sections, this process of Sanskritization faced more challenges than in prose, as metre and prosody often resisted the changes required by grammar. Thus, this poetic dialect can't be classified as either Sanskrit, Pali, or Magadhi; instead, it’s a mix of scholarly and everyday speech. However, Sanskrit didn't become a sacred language for the Mahayanists in the same way Latin did for Roman Catholics. Instead, Pali has taken on this role among the Hinayanists, since Burmese and Sinhalese translations of the Pitakas hold no authority. In northern regions, the principle[122] that everyone could read the Buddha’s teachings in their own language was generally upheld: populations in Central Asia, the Chinese, Tibetans, and Mongols translated the scriptures into their [50] own languages without ascribing any superstitious significance to the original words, except in the case of Dhâraṇîs or spells.
About the time of the Christian era or perhaps rather earlier, greater use began to be made of writing for religious purposes. The old practice of reciting the scriptures was not discontinued but no objection was made to preserving and reading them in written copies. According to tradition, the Pali scriptures were committed to writing in Ceylon during the reign of Vaṭṭagâmaṇi, that is according to the most recent chronology about 20 B.C., and Kanishka caused to be engraved on copper plates the commentaries composed by the council which he summoned. In Aśvaghosha[123] we find the story of a Brahman who casually taking up a book to pass the time lights on a copy of the Sutra of the Twelve Causes and is converted. But though the Buddhists remained on the whole true to the old view that the important thing was to understand and disseminate the substance of the Master's teaching and not merely to preserve the text as if it were a sacred formula, still we see growing up in Mahayanist works ideas about the sanctity and efficacy of scripture which are foreign to the Pali Canon. Many sutras (for instance the Diamond Cutter) extol themselves as all-sufficient for salvation: the Prajñâ-pâramitâ commences with a salutation addressed not as usual to the Buddha but to the work itself, as if it were a deity, and Hodgson states that the Buddhists of Nepal worship their nine sacred books. Nor was the idea excluded that certain words, especially formulæ or spells called Dhâraṇî, have in themselves a mysterious efficacy and potency.[124] Some of these are cited and recommended in the Lotus.[125] In so far as the repetition of sacred words or spells is regarded as an integral part of the religious life, the doctrine has no warrant in the earlier teaching. It obviously becomes more and more prominent in later works. But the idea itself is old, for it is clearly the same that produced a belief in the Brahmanic mantras, particularly the mantras of the Atharva Veda, and early Buddhism did not reject mantras in their proper place. Thus[126] the deities present themselves to the Buddha and offer to teach him a formula which will protect his disciples from the attacks of evil spirits. Hsüan Chuang even states that the council [51] which sat at Râjagṛiha after the Buddha's death compiled five Pitakas, one of which consisted of Dhâraṇîs,[127] and it may be that the collection of such texts was begun as early as the collection of discourses and rules. But for many centuries there is no evidence that they were in any way confounded with the Dharma.
About the time of the Christian era or maybe even earlier, writing started to be used more for religious purposes. The old tradition of reciting scriptures didn’t end, but it became acceptable to keep and read written copies. According to tradition, the Pali scriptures were written down in Ceylon during Vaṭṭagâmaṇi's reign, which by the latest timeline is around 20 B.C. Kanishka had the commentaries created by the council he called engraved on copper plates. In Aśvaghosha[123], there's a story about a Brahman who casually picks up a book to pass the time and ends up discovering a copy of the Sutra of the Twelve Causes, resulting in his conversion. Although Buddhists mainly stuck to the belief that the key thing was to understand and share the essence of the Master's teachings and not just preserve the text as if it were a sacred formula, ideas began to emerge in Mahayanist works about the holiness and power of scriptures that aren't found in the Pali Canon. Many sutras (like the Diamond Cutter) claim to be fully sufficient for salvation: the Prajñâ-pâramitâ starts with a salutation not to the Buddha as usual, but to the text itself, as if it were a deity. Hodgson notes that the Buddhists of Nepal worship their nine sacred books. The notion that certain words, especially formulas or spells called Dhâraṇî, possess mysterious power is also present.[124] Some of these are cited and recommended in the Lotus.[125] While repeating sacred words or spells is seen as a key aspect of religious life, this idea doesn't have support in the earlier teachings. It becomes more prominent in later texts. However, this concept is old, as it mirrors the belief in Brahmanic mantras, especially those in the Atharva Veda, and early Buddhism didn't reject mantras in their appropriate context. Thus,[126] the deities approach the Buddha and offer to teach him a formula that will protect his disciples from evil spirits. Hsüan Chuang even says that the council [51] which met at Râjagṛiha after the Buddha's death compiled five Pitakas, one of which included Dhâraṇîs,[127] and it's possible that the collection of such texts began alongside the collection of discourses and rules. However, for many centuries, there’s no evidence that they were mixed up with the Dharma in any way.
The Mahayanist scriptures are so voluminous that not even the clergy were expected to master any considerable part of them.[128] Indeed they make no claim to be a connected whole. The theory was rather that there were many vehicles plying on the road to salvation and many guide books. No traveller thought of taking the whole library but only a few volumes which suited him. Most of the Chinese and Japanese sects avowedly base themselves upon three sutras, selected according to the taste of each school from the hundreds quoted in catalogues. Thus the T'ien-t'ai sect has for its scriptures the Lotus, the Nirvâṇa-sûtra and the Prajñâ-pâramitâ, while the Shin-shu sect admits only the three Amidist sutras.
The Mahayanist scriptures are so extensive that even the clergy weren't expected to master a significant portion of them.[128] In fact, they don’t claim to be a cohesive whole. The idea was more that there are many paths to salvation and various guidebooks. No traveler thought about taking the entire library, just a few volumes that fit their needs. Most of the Chinese and Japanese sects openly base themselves on three sutras, chosen according to each school's preferences from the hundreds listed in catalogs. For instance, the T'ien-t'ai sect regards the Lotus, the Nirvâṇa-sûtra, and the Prajñâ-pâramitâ as their scriptures, while the Shin-shu sect accepts only the three Amidist sutras.
The following are the names of some of the principal Mahayanist scriptures. Comparatively few of them have been published in Europe and some exist only in Chinese or Japanese translations.
The following are the names of some of the main Mahayanist scriptures. Relatively few of them have been published in Europe, and some are available only in Chinese or Japanese translations.
1. Prajñâ-pâramitâ or transcendental knowledge[129] is a generic name given to a whole literature consisting of treatises on the doctrine of śûnyatâ, which vary greatly in length. They are classed as sutras, being described as discourses delivered by the Buddha on the Vulture Peak. At least ten are known, besides excerpts which are sometimes described as substantive works. The great collection translated into Chinese by Hsüan Chuang is said to consist of 200,000 verses and to comprise sixteen different sutras.[130] The earliest translation of one of these treatises into Chinese (Nanjio, 5) was made about 170 A.D. and [52] everything indicates that portions of the Prajñâ-pâramitâ are among the earliest Mahayanist works and date from about the first century of our era. Prajñâ not only means knowledge of the absolute truth, that is to say of śûnyatâ or the void, but is regarded as an ontological principle synonymous with Bodhi and Dharma-kâya. Thus Buddhas not only possess this knowledge in the ordinary sense but they are the knowledge manifest in human form, and Prajñâ is often personified as a goddess. All these works lay great stress on the doctrine of śûnyatâ, and the non-existence of the world of experience. The longest recension is said to contain a polemic against the Hinayana.
1. Prajñâ-pâramitâ, or transcendental knowledge[129] is the general term for a collection of texts focused on the concept of śûnyatâ, which varies widely in length. These texts are classified as sutras; they are considered discourses given by the Buddha on Vulture Peak. At least ten of these are known, in addition to excerpts that are sometimes seen as complete works. The extensive collection translated into Chinese by Hsüan Chuang is believed to have 200,000 verses and includes sixteen different sutras.[130] The earliest Chinese translation of one of these texts (Nanjio, 5) was done around 170 A.D., and [52] evidence suggests that parts of the Prajñâ-pâramitâ are among the earliest Mahayanist texts, dating from about the first century of our era. Prajñâ not only refers to knowledge of absolute truth, in other words, the understanding of śûnyatâ or emptiness, but is also seen as an ontological principle equal to Bodhi and Dharma-kâya. So, Buddhas not only have this knowledge in a typical sense, but they actually embody that knowledge in human form, and Prajñâ is frequently depicted as a goddess. All these works emphasize the teaching of śûnyatâ and the non-existence of the experiential world. The longest version is said to include a critique against the Hinayana.
The Diamond Cutter is one of the best known of these transcendental treatises and the two short works called Heart of the Prajñâ-pâramitâ, which are widely read in Japan, appear to be brief abstracts of the essence of this teaching.
The Diamond Cutter is one of the most well-known transcendental texts, and the two short works called Heart of the Prajñâ-pâramitâ, which are very popular in Japan, seem to be concise summaries of the essence of this teaching.
2. The Saddharma-Puṇḍarîka, or Lotus of the Good Law,[131] is one of the best known Mahayanist sutras and is highly esteemed in China and Japan. It purports to be a discourse delivered by Śâkyamuni on the Vulture Peak to an assemblage of Bodhisattvas. The Lotus clearly affirms the multiplicity of vehicles, or various ways of teaching the law, and also the eternity of the Buddha, but it does not emphasize, although it mentions, the doctrine of śûnyatâ. The work consists of two parts of which the second (chaps. XXI-XXVI) is a later addition. This second part contains spells and many mythological narratives, including one of an ancient Bodhisattva who burnt himself alive in honour of a former Buddha. Portions of the Lotus were translated into Chinese under the Western Tsin Dynasty 265-316 A.D. and it is quoted in the Mahâ-prajñâ-pâramitâ-śâstra ascribed to Nâgârjuna.[132] The first part [53] is probably not later than the first century A.D. The Lotus is unfortunately accessible to English readers only in a most unpoetic translation by the late Professor Kern, but it is a great religious poem which starting from humanity regards religion as cosmic and universal, rather than something mainly concerned with our earth. The discourses of Śâkyamuni are accompanied in it by stupendous miracles culminating in a grand cosmic phantasmagoria in which is evoked the stupa containing the body of a departed Buddha, that is a shrine containing the eternal truth.
2. The Saddharma-Puṇḍarîka, or Lotus of the Good Law,[131] is one of the most well-known Mahayanist sutras and is highly regarded in China and Japan. It is presented as a talk given by Śâkyamuni on Vulture Peak to a gathering of Bodhisattvas. The Lotus clearly affirms the existence of multiple vehicles, or different ways to teach the law, and also the eternity of the Buddha, but it does not focus on, although it does mention, the idea of śûnyatâ. The work consists of two parts, with the second part (chaps. XXI-XXVI) being a later addition. This second part includes spells and many mythological stories, such as one about an ancient Bodhisattva who burned himself alive in honor of a former Buddha. Portions of the Lotus were translated into Chinese during the Western Tsin Dynasty from 265 to 316 A.D. and it is referenced in the Mahâ-prajñâ-pâramitâ-śâstra attributed to Nâgârjuna.[132] The first part [53] likely dates no later than the first century A.D. Unfortunately, English readers can access the Lotus only through a rather unpoetic translation by the late Professor Kern, but it remains a significant religious poem that views religion as cosmic and universal, rather than just focused on our earthly existence. The discourses of Śâkyamuni are accompanied by incredible miracles, culminating in a grand cosmic spectacle that features the stupa containing the body of a departed Buddha, serving as a shrine of eternal truth.
3. The Lalita-vistara[133] is a life of Śâkyamuni up to the commencement of his mission. Though the setting of the story is miraculous and Buddhas and Bodhisattvas innumerable are freely spoken of, yet the work does not enunciate the characteristic Mahayanist doctrines so definitely as the other treatises here enumerated. It is said to have originally belonged to the school of the Sarvâstivâdins and to have been subsequently accepted by the Mahayanists, and though it is not an epic but a collection of ballads and legends, yet it often reads as if it were a preliminary study for Aśvaghosha's Buddhacarita. It contains Sanskrit versions of old legends, which are almost verbal renderings of the Pali text, but also new material and seems to be conscious of relating novelties which may arouse scepticism for it interrupts the narrative to anathematize those who do not believe in the miracles of the Nativity and to extol the merits of faith (śraddhâ not bhakti). It is probably coeval with the earlier Gandharan art but there are no facts to fix its date.[134]
3. The Lalita-vistara[133] is a life of Śâkyamuni up to the start of his mission. Although the story takes place in a miraculous setting where countless Buddhas and Bodhisattvas are mentioned, the work doesn't clearly present the distinct Mahayanist doctrines like the other texts listed here. It's believed to have originally belonged to the Sarvâstivâdins school and was later adopted by the Mahayanists. While it’s not an epic but rather a collection of ballads and legends, it often feels like a preliminary study for Aśvaghosha's Buddhacarita. It includes Sanskrit versions of old legends, which closely follow the Pali text, but also features new material and seems aware of introducing ideas that may provoke skepticism. It interrupts the narrative to condemn those who doubt the miracles of the Nativity and to praise the value of faith (śraddhâ not bhakti). It's likely contemporary with the earlier Gandharan art, but there are no solid facts to determine its date.[134]
4. The Lankâvatâra[135] gives an account of the revelation of the good Law by Śâkyamuni when visiting Lanka. It is presumably subsequent to the period when Ceylon had become [54] a centre of Buddhism, but the story is pure fancy and unconnected with history or with older legends. It relates how the Buddha alighted on Mt. Malaya in Lanka. Ravana came to pay his respects and asked for definitions of virtue and vice which were given. The Bodhisattva Mahâmati (apparently Mañjuśrî) proceeded to propound a series of more abstruse questions which are answered at considerable length. The Lankâvatâra represents a mature phase of speculation and not only criticizes the Sânkhya, Pâsupata and other Hindu schools, but is conscious of the growing resemblance of Mahayanism to Brahmanic philosophy and tries to explain it. It contains a prophecy about Nâgârjuna and another which mentions the Guptas, and it appears to allude to the domination of the Huns. This allusion would make its date as late as the sixth century but a translation into Chinese which is said to correspond with the Sanskrit text was made in 513. If so the barbarians referred to cannot be the Huns. An earlier translation made in 443 does not agree with our Sanskrit text and perhaps the work existed in several recensions.
4. The Lankâvatâra[135] tells the story of the good Law revealed by Śâkyamuni during his visit to Lanka. This likely took place after Ceylon became a center of Buddhism, but the narrative is purely imaginative and has no ties to actual history or older legends. It details how the Buddha arrived at Mt. Malaya in Lanka. Ravana came to show his respect and sought definitions of virtue and vice, which were provided. Then, the Bodhisattva Mahâmati (likely Mañjuśrî) posed a series of deeper questions that were answered in detail. The Lankâvatâra reflects a more developed phase of thought and not only critiques the Sânkhya, Pâsupata, and other Hindu schools but also recognizes the increasing similarities of Mahayanism to Brahmanic philosophy and attempts to clarify this. It includes a prophecy about Nâgârjuna and another mentioning the Guptas, hinting at the domination of the Huns. This reference would date the text to as late as the sixth century, but a Chinese translation that supposedly aligns with the Sanskrit was made in 513. If that is the case, the "barbarians" mentioned cannot be the Huns. An earlier translation made in 443 does not match our Sanskrit text, suggesting that the work may have existed in multiple versions.
5. The Suvarṇa-prabhâsa or Glitter of Gold[136] is a Vaipulya sûtra in many ways resembling the Lotus. It insists on the supernatural character of the Buddha. He was never really born nor entered into Nirvana but is the Dharma-kâya. The scene is laid at Râjagṛiha and many Brahmanic deities are among the interlocutors. It was translated into Chinese about 420 A.D. and fragments of a translation into Uigur have been discovered in Turkestan.[137] The contents comprise philosophy, legends and spells.
5. The Suvarṇa-prabhâsa or Glitter of Gold[136] is a Vaipulya sutra that is quite similar to the Lotus. It emphasizes the supernatural nature of the Buddha. He was never truly born nor did he enter Nirvana; instead, he is the Dharma-kāya. The setting is Rājagṛiha, and several Brahmanic deities participate in the discussions. It was translated into Chinese around 420 A.D., and fragments of a translation into Uigur have been found in Turkestan.[137] The content includes philosophy, legends, and spells.
6. Gaṇḍa-vyûha[138] or the Structure of the World, which is compared to a bubble. The name is not found in the catalogue of the Chinese Tripitaka but the work is said to be the same as the Avataṃsaka sûtra which is popular in the Far East under the name of Hua-yên in China or Ke-gon in Japan. The identity of the two books could not have been guessed from the extracts and analyses which have been published but is guaranteed by [55] high authorities.[139] It is possible however that the Gaṇḍa-vyûha is only a portion of the larger work called Avataṃsaka. So far as can be judged from the extracts, this text preaches in a fully developed form, the doctrines of Śûnyatâ, Dharma-kâya, the omnipresence of the Buddha and the redemption of the world by the exertions of Bodhisattvas. Yet it seems to be early, for a portion of it was translated into Chinese about 170 A.D. (Nanjio, 102) and about 405 Kumârajîva translated a commentary on it ascribed to Nâgârjuna (Nanjio, 1180).
6. Gaṇḍa-vyûha[138] or the Structure of the World, which is likened to a bubble. The title doesn’t appear in the list of the Chinese Tripitaka, but this work is said to be the same as the Avataṃsaka sûtra, which is well-known in the Far East under the name Hua-yên in China or Ke-gon in Japan. The connection between the two texts couldn’t be guessed from the extracts and analyses that have been published, but it is confirmed by [55] reputable scholars.[139] However, it's possible that the Gaṇḍa-vyûha is just a part of the larger work known as Avataṃsaka. From the extracts available, this text teaches in a fully developed way the doctrines of Śûnyatâ, Dharma-kâya, the omnipresence of the Buddha, and the salvation of the world through the efforts of Bodhisattvas. Yet, it seems to be early, as part of it was translated into Chinese around 170 A.D. (Nanjio, 102) and about 405, Kumârajîva translated a commentary on it attributed to Nâgârjuna (Nanjio, 1180).
7. Tathâgata-guhyaka. This work is known by the analysis of Rajendralala Mitra from which it appears to be a Tantra of the worst class and probably late. Its proper title is said to be Śrîguhyasamaja. Watanabe states that the work catalogued by Nanjio under No. 1027 and translated into Chinese about 1000 A.D. is an expurgated version of it. The Śikshâsamuccaya cites the Tathâgata-guhya-sûtra several times. The relations of these works to one another are not quite clear.
7. Tathâgata-guhyaka. This work is analyzed by Rajendralala Mitra, who suggests it's a lower-tier Tantra, likely from a later period. Its full title is said to be Śrîguhyasamaja. Watanabe points out that the version cataloged by Nanjio as No. 1027, which was translated into Chinese around 1000 A.D., is an edited version of the original. The Śikshâsamuccaya references the Tathâgata-guhya-sûtra multiple times. The connections between these works are not entirely clear.
8. Samâdhirâja[140] is a Vyâkaraṇa or narrative describing different forms of meditation of which the Samâdhirâja is the greatest and best. The scene is laid on the Vulture's Peak and the principal interlocutors are Śâkyamuni and Candraprabha, a rich man of Râjagṛiha. It appears to be the same as the Candrapradîpa-sûtra and is a complete and copious treatise, which not only expounds the topic from which it takes its name but incidentally enumerates the chief principles of Mahayanism. Watanabe[141] states that it is the Yüeh-têng-san-mei-ching (Nanjio, 191) translated about 450 and again in 557 A.D.
8. Samâdhirâja[140] is a text that outlines various forms of meditation, with the Samâdhirâja being the highest and most esteemed among them. The setting is Vulture's Peak, and the main characters in the dialogue are Śâkyamuni and Candraprabha, a wealthy man from Râjagṛiha. It seems to be identical to the Candrapradîpa-sûtra and serves as a comprehensive and detailed treatise that not only discusses its namesake topic but also highlights the key principles of Mahayanism. Watanabe[141] mentions that it is the Yüeh-têng-san-mei-ching (Nanjio, 191), translated around 450 and again in 557 A.D.
9. Daśabhûmîśvara.[142] An account of the ten stages in the career of a Bodhisattva before he can attain to Buddhahood. The scene is laid in the paradise of Indra where Śâkyamuni was temporarily sojourning and the principal interlocutor is a Bodhisattva named Vajragarbha. It is said to be the same as the Daśabhûmika-sûtra first translated into Chinese about 300 A.D. [56] (Nanjio, 105 and 110) but this work appears to be merely a portion of the Gaṇḍa-vyûha or Avataṃsaka mentioned above.
9. Daśabhûmīśvara.[142] This is a description of the ten stages a Bodhisattva goes through before reaching Buddhahood. The story takes place in Indra's paradise, where Śâkyamuni was staying for a time, and the main speaker is a Bodhisattva named Vajragarbha. It's considered to be the same as the Daśabhūmika-sūtra, first translated into Chinese around 300 A.D. [56] (Nanjio, 105 and 110) but this text seems to be just a part of the Gaṇḍa-vyūha or Avataṃsaka mentioned earlier.
These nine works are all extant in Sanskrit and are known in Nepal as the nine Dharmas, the word Dharma being an abbreviation for Dharmaparyâya, revolution or exposition of the law, a term frequently used in the works themselves to describe a comprehensive discourse delivered by the Buddha. They are all quoted in the Śikshâsamuccaya, supposed to have been written about 650 A.D. No similar collection of nine seems to be known in Tibet or the Far East and the origin of the selection is obscure. As however the list does not include the Svayambhû Purâṇa, the principal indigenous scripture of Nepal, it may go back to an Indian source and represent an old tradition.
These nine works still exist in Sanskrit and are known in Nepal as the nine Dharmas, with the term Dharma being short for Dharmaparyâya, meaning revolution or explanation of the law, a phrase often used in the texts themselves to refer to a detailed discourse given by the Buddha. They are all cited in the Śikshâsamuccaya, which is believed to have been written around 650 A.D. No similar collection of nine appears to be known in Tibet or the Far East, and the origin of this selection remains unclear. However, since the list does not include the Svayambhû Purâṇa, the main indigenous scripture of Nepal, it may have roots in an Indian source and represent an ancient tradition.
Besides the nine Dharmas, numerous other sûtras exist in Sanskrit, Chinese, Tibetan and the languages of Central Asia. Few have been edited or translated and even when something is known of their character detailed information as to their contents is usually wanting. Among the better known are the following.
Besides the nine Dharmas, there are many other sutras in Sanskrit, Chinese, Tibetan, and the languages of Central Asia. Few have been edited or translated, and even when some information about them is available, detailed content is usually lacking. Among the better known are the following.
10. One of the sûtras most read in China and admired because its style has a literary quality unusual in Buddhist works is commonly known as the Lêng-yen-ching. The full title is Shou-lêng-yen-san-mei-ching which is the Chinese transliteration of Śûrangama Samâdhi.[143] This sutra is quoted by name in the Śikshâsamuccaya and fragments of the Sanskrit text have been found in Turkestan.[144] The Śûrangama-Samâdhi Sûtra has been conjectured to be the same as the Samâdhirâja, but the accounts of Rajendralala Mitra and Beal do not support this theory. Beal's translation leaves the impression that it resembles a Pali sutta. The scene is laid in the Jetavana with few miraculous accessories. The Buddha discusses with Ânanda the location of the soul and after confuting his theories expounds the doctrine of the Dharma-kâya. The fragments found in Turkestan recommend a particular form of meditation.
10. One of the most widely read sutras in China, admired for its literary style that is uncommon in Buddhist texts, is known as the Lêng-yen-ching. Its full title is Shou-lêng-yen-san-mei-ching, which is the Chinese transliteration of Śûrangama Samâdhi.[143] This sutra is specifically mentioned in the Śikshâsamuccaya, and fragments of the Sanskrit text have been discovered in Turkestan.[144] The Śûrangama-Samâdhi Sutra has been thought to be the same as the Samâdhirâja, but the reports by Rajendralala Mitra and Beal do not support this idea. Beal's translation gives the impression that it resembles a Pali sutta. The setting is in the Jetavana with minimal miraculous elements. The Buddha talks with Ânanda about the location of the soul and, after refuting his ideas, explains the doctrine of the Dharma-kâya. The fragments discovered in Turkestan advocate a specific form of meditation.
11. Târanâtha informs us that among the many Mahayanist works which appeared in the reign of Kanishka's son was the [57] Ratnakûṭa-dharma-paryâya in 1000 sections and the Ratnakûṭa is cited not only by the Śikshâsamuccaya but by Asanga.[145] The Tibetan and Chinese canons contain sections with this name comprising forty-eight or forty-nine items among which are the three important treatises about Amitâbha's paradise and many dialogues called Paripṛicchâ, that is, questions put by some personage, human or superhuman, and furnished with appropriate replies.[146] The Chinese Ratnakûṭa is said to have been compiled by Bodhiruchi (693-713 A.D.) but of course he is responsible only for the selection not for the composition of the works included. Section 14 of this Ratnakûṭa is said to be identical with chapters 11 and 12 of the Mûlasarvâstivâdin Vinaya.[147]
11. Târanâtha tells us that during the reign of Kanishka's son, many Mahayana works were created, including the [57] Ratnakûṭa-dharma-paryâya, which has 1000 sections. The Ratnakûṭa is referenced not only by the Śikshâsamuccaya but also by Asanga.[145] Both the Tibetan and Chinese canons have sections with this name that include forty-eight or forty-nine items, among which are three key texts about Amitâbha's paradise and many dialogues called Paripṛicchâ, which are questions posed by various characters, human or divine, along with their appropriate answers.[146] The Chinese version of the Ratnakûṭa is said to have been put together by Bodhiruchi (693-713 A.D.), but he is only responsible for selecting the works, not for writing them. Section 14 of this Ratnakûṭa is claimed to be the same as chapters 11 and 12 of the Mûlasarvâstivâdin Vinaya.[147]
12. The Guṇa-kâraṇḍa-vyûha and Kâraṇḍa-vyûha are said to be two recensions of the same work, the first in verse the second in prose. Both are devoted to the praise of Avalokita who is represented as the presiding deity of the universe. He has refused to enter Buddhahood himself until all living creatures attain to true knowledge and is specially occupied in procuring the release of those who suffer in hell. The Guṇa-kâraṇḍa-vyûha contains a remarkable account of the origin of the world which is said to be absent from the prose version. The primeval Buddha spirit, Âdi-Buddha or Svayambhû, produces Avalokita by meditation, and Avalokita produces the material world and the gods of Hinduism from his body, Śiva from his forehead, Nârâyaṇa from his heart and so on. As such doctrines are not known to have appeared in Indian Buddhism before the tenth century it seems probable that the versified edition is late. But a work with the title Ratna-kâraṇḍaka-vyûha-sûtra was translated into Chinese in 270 and the Kâraṇḍa-vyûha is said to have been the first work translated into Tibetan.[148]
12. The Guṇa-kâraṇḍa-vyûha and Kâraṇḍa-vyûha are considered two versions of the same work, the first written in verse and the second in prose. Both focus on praising Avalokita, who is seen as the main deity of the universe. He has chosen not to enter Buddhahood himself until all living beings reach true knowledge and is primarily engaged in helping those suffering in hell. The Guṇa-kâraṇḍa-vyûha features a fascinating account of how the world began, which is reportedly missing from the prose version. The original Buddha spirit, Âdi-Buddha or Svayambhû, creates Avalokita through meditation, and Avalokita brings forth the material world and the Hindu gods from his body, with Śiva emerging from his forehead, Nârâyaṇa from his heart, and so on. Since these teachings don't seem to have appeared in Indian Buddhism before the tenth century, it’s likely that the verse version is later. However, a work titled Ratna-kâraṇḍaka-vyûha-sûtra was translated into Chinese in 270, and the Kâraṇḍa-vyûha was reportedly the first work translated into Tibetan.[148]
13. The Karuṇâa-puṇḍarîka[149] or Lotus of Compassion is mainly occupied with the description of an imaginary continent called Padmadhâtu, its Buddha and its many splendours. It exists in Sanskrit and was translated into Chinese about 400 A.D. (Nanjio, No. 142).
13. The Karuṇâa-puṇḍarîka[149] or Lotus of Compassion mainly describes an imaginary continent called Padmadhâtu, its Buddha, and its many wonders. It exists in Sanskrit and was translated into Chinese around 400 A.D. (Nanjio, No. 142).
14. The Mahâvairocanâbhisambhodhi called in Chinese Ta-jih-ching or Great Sun sutra should perhaps be mentioned as it is the principal scripture of the Chên-yen (Japanese Shingon) school. It is a late work of unknown origin. It was translated into Chinese in 724 A.D. but the Sanskrit text has not been found.
14. The Mahâvairocanâbhisambhodhi, known in Chinese as Ta-jih-ching or the Great Sun sutra, should probably be mentioned as it is the main scripture of the Chên-yen (Japanese Shingon) school. It's a later work of unknown origin. It was translated into Chinese in 724 A.D., but the Sanskrit text has not been discovered.
There are a great number of other sutras which are important for the history of literature, although little attention is paid to them by Buddhists at the present day. Such are the Mahayanist version of the Mahâparinirvâṇa recounting the death and burial of the Buddha and the Mahâsannipâta-sûtra, which apparently includes the Sûryagarbha and Candragarbha sutras. All these works were translated into Chinese about 420 A.D. and must therefore be of respectable antiquity.
There are many other sutras that are significant for the history of literature, although they receive little attention from Buddhists today. These include the Mahayanist version of the Mahâparinirvâṇa, which tells the story of the Buddha's death and burial, and the Mahâsannipâta-sûtra, which seemingly includes the Sûryagarbha and Candragarbha sutras. All these works were translated into Chinese around 420 A.D., so they are quite old.
Besides the sutras, there are many compositions styled Avadânas or pious legends.[150] These, though recognized by Mahayanists, do not as a rule contain expositions of the Sûnyatâ and Dharma-kâya and are not sharply distinguished from the more imaginative of the Hinayanist scriptures.[151] But they introduce a multiplicity of Buddhas and Bodhisattvas and represent Sâkyamuni as a superhuman worker of miracles.
Besides the sutras, there are many writings called Avadânas or pious legends.[150] While Mahayanists acknowledge these, they typically don't offer explanations of Sûnyatâ and Dharma-kâya and aren’t clearly separated from the more imaginative texts of the Hinayanist scriptures.[151] However, they introduce a variety of Buddhas and Bodhisattvas and depict Sâkyamuni as a superhuman miracle worker.
They correspond in many respects to the Pali Vinaya but teach right conduct not so much by precept as by edifying stories and, like most Mahayanist works they lay less stress upon monastic discipline than on unselfish virtue exercised throughout successive existences. There are a dozen or more collections of Avadânas of which the most important are the Mahâvastu and the Divyâvadâna. The former[152] is an encyclopædic work which contains inter alia a life of Sâkyamuni. It describes itself as [59] belonging to the Lokottaravâdins, a section of the Âryamahâ-sanghikas. The Lokottaravâdins were an ancient sect, precursors of the Mahayana rather than a branch of it, and much of the Mahâvastu is parallel to the Pali Canon and may have been composed a century or two before our era. But other parts seem to belong to the Gandharan period and the mention of Chinese and Hunnish writing points to a much later date.[153] If it was originally a Vinaya treatise, it has been distended out of all recognition by the addition of legends and anecdotes but it still retains a certain amount of matter found also in the Pali and Tibetan Vinayas. There were probably several recensions in which successive additions were made to the original nucleus. One interpolation is the lengthy and important section called Daśabhûmika, describing the career of a Bodhisattva. It is the only part of the Mahâvastu which can be called definitely Mahayanist. The rest of the work marks a transitional stage in doctrine, just as its language is neither Prakrit or Sanskrit but some ancient vernacular brought into partial conformity with Sanskrit grammar. No Chinese translation is known.
They correspond in many ways to the Pali Vinaya but teach proper behavior not just through rules but through inspiring stories. Like most Mahayanist texts, they focus less on monastic discipline and more on selfless virtue practiced across multiple lifetimes. There are over a dozen collections of Avadânas, with the most important being the Mahâvastu and the Divyâvadâna. The former[152] is an encyclopedic work that includes among other things the life of Sâkyamuni. It claims to belong to the Lokottaravâdins, a group within the Âryamahâ-sanghikas. The Lokottaravâdins were an ancient sect, more like forerunners of the Mahayana rather than a part of it, and much of the Mahâvastu aligns with the Pali Canon and may have been written a century or two before our era. However, other sections seem to belong to the Gandharan period, and references to Chinese and Hunnish writing suggest a much later date.[153] If it was originally a Vinaya text, it has been expanded beyond recognition with the addition of legends and anecdotes, but it still retains some material also found in the Pali and Tibetan Vinayas. There were likely several versions where successive additions were made to the original core. One notable addition is the extensive and significant section called Daśabhûmika, which describes the journey of a Bodhisattva. It is the only part of the Mahâvastu that can be called definitively Mahayanist. The rest of the work reflects a transitional stage in doctrine, just as its language is neither purely Prakrit nor Sanskrit, but rather an ancient vernacular adjusted to some degree to follow Sanskrit grammar. No Chinese translation is known.
The Divyâvadâna[154] is a collection of legends, part of which is known as the Asokâvadâna and gives an edifying life of that pious monarch. This portion was translated into Chinese A.D. 317-420 and the work probably dates from the third century of our era. It is loosely constructed: considerable portions of it seem to be identical with the Vinaya of the Sarvâstivâdins and others with passages in the works of Aśvaghosha.
The Divyâvadâna[154] is a collection of legends, part of which is called the Asokâvadâna, featuring an inspiring account of that devout king. This section was translated into Chinese between A.D. 317-420, and the work likely originates from the third century of our era. Its structure is loose: significant parts of it appear to be identical to the Vinaya of the Sarvâstivâdins, while others match passages in the works of Aśvaghosha.
The Avadânas lie on the borderland between scripture and pious literature which uses human argument and refers to scripture for its authority. Of this literature the Mahayanist church has a goodly collection and the works ascribed to such doctors as Aśvaghosha, Nâgârjuna, Asanga and Vasubandhu hold a high place in general esteem. The Chinese Canon places many of them in the Pitakas (especially in the Abhidharma Pitaka) and not among the works of miscellaneous writers.
The Avadânas exist in a space between religious texts and devotional literature, using human reasoning and citing scriptures for authority. The Mahayanist tradition has a substantial collection of this literature, and the works attributed to notable figures like Aśvaghosha, Nâgârjuna, Asanga, and Vasubandhu are highly respected. The Chinese Canon includes many of these works in the Pitakas, particularly in the Abhidharma Pitaka, rather than grouping them with writings from various authors.
The Mahayanist scriptures are still a living force. In Nepal the nine Dharmas receive superstitious homage rather than [60] intelligent study, but in Tibet and the Far East the Prajñâ-pâramitâ, the Lotus and the sutras about Amitâbha are in daily use for public worship and private reading. I have heard the first-named work as well as the Lêng-yen-ching expounded, that is, read aloud with an extempore paraphrase, to lay congregations in China, and the section of it called the Diamond Cutter is the book which is most commonly in the hands of religious Tibetans. The Lotus is the special scripture of the Nichiren sect in Japan but is universally respected. The twenty-fourth chapter which contains the praises of Avalokita is often printed separately. The Amitâbha sûtras take the place of the New Testament for the Jōdō and Shin sects and copies of them may also be found in almost every monastery throughout China and Annam. The Suvarṇa-prabhâsa is said to be specially popular among the Mongols. I know Chinese Buddhists who read the Hua-yen (Avataṃsaka) every day. Modern Japanese writers quote frequently from the Lankâvatâra and Kâśyapa-parivarta but I have not met with any instance of these works being in popular use.
The Mahayanist scriptures are still very relevant today. In Nepal, the nine Dharmas are more about superstitious worship than [60] meaningful study, but in Tibet and the Far East, the Prajñâ-pâramitâ, the Lotus, and the sutras about Amitâbha are regularly used for public worship and personal reading. I've heard the Prajñâ-pâramitâ as well as the Lêng-yen-ching discussed, which means they were read aloud with spontaneous explanations, to laypeople in China, and the section known as the Diamond Cutter is the book most commonly held by religious Tibetans. The Lotus is the key scripture for the Nichiren sect in Japan but is respected by everyone. The twenty-fourth chapter that praises Avalokita is often published on its own. The Amitâbha sutras serve a similar role to the New Testament for the Jōdō and Shin sects, and copies can be found in almost every monastery across China and Annam. The Suvarṇa-prabhâsa is particularly popular among the Mongols. I know Chinese Buddhists who read the Hua-yen (Avataṃsaka) daily. Modern Japanese writers frequently cite the Lankâvatâra and Kâśyapa-parivarta, but I haven't come across any examples of these works being widely used.
I have mentioned already the obscurity surrounding the history of the Mahayanist Canon in India and it may seem to throw doubt on the authenticity of these scriptures. Unauthentic they certainly are in the sense that European criticism is not likely to accept as historical the discourses which they attribute to the Buddha and others, but there is no reason to doubt that they are treatises composed in India early in our era and representing the doctrines then prevalent. The religious public of India has never felt any difficulty in accepting works of merit—and often only very moderate merit—as revelations, whether called Upanishads, Puranas, Sutras or what not. Only rarely have such works received any formal approbation, such as recognition by a council. Indeed it is rather in Ceylon, Burma, Tibet and China than in India itself that authoritative lists of scriptures have been compiled. The natural instinct of the Hindus was not to close the Canon but to leave it open for any additions which might be vouchsafed.
I’ve already mentioned the uncertainty around the history of the Mahayanist Canon in India, and it might raise questions about the authenticity of these scriptures. They are certainly viewed as unauthentic since European critics are unlikely to accept the teachings attributed to the Buddha and others as historical. However, there is no reason to doubt that they are writings created in India early in our era, reflecting the doctrines that were common at the time. The religious community in India has never had a problem accepting works of value—and often ones of only modest value—as revelations, whether called Upanishads, Puranas, Sutras, or something else. Only rarely have these works received formal approval, such as recognition by a council. In fact, it is more in Ceylon, Burma, Tibet, and China than in India itself that authoritative lists of scriptures have been compiled. The natural instinct of Hindus was not to close the Canon but to keep it open for any additions that might be offered.
Two sketches of an elastic Mahayanist Canon of this kind are preserved, one in the Śikshâsamuccaya[155] attributed to Śântideva, who probably flourished in the seventh century, and [61] the other in a little work called the Duration of the Law, reporting a discourse by an otherwise unknown Nandimitra, said to have lived in Ceylon 800 years after the Buddha's death.[156] The former is a compendium of doctrine illustrated by quotations from what the author regarded as scripture. He cites about a hundred Mahayanist sutras, refers to the Vinaya and Divyâvadâna but not apparently to the Abhidharma. He mentions no Tantras[157] and not many Dhâraṇîs.
Two outlines of a flexible Mahayanist Canon like this are preserved, one in the Śikshâsamuccaya[155] attributed to Śântideva, who likely lived in the seventh century, and [61] the other in a short work called the Duration of the Law, which reports a talk by an otherwise unknown Nandimitra, believed to have lived in Ceylon 800 years after the Buddha's death.[156] The first is a collection of teachings illustrated by quotes from what the author saw as scripture. He cites about a hundred Mahayanist sutras, mentions the Vinaya and Divyâvadâna but apparently not the Abhidharma. He does not reference any Tantras[157] and not many Dhâraṇîs.
The second work was translated by Hsüan Chuang and was therefore probably written before 600 A.D.[158] Otherwise there is no external evidence for fixing its date. It represents Nandimitra as explaining on his deathbed the steps taken by the Buddha to protect the True Law and in what works that Law is to be found. Like the Chinese Tripitaka it recognizes both Mahayanist and Hinayanist works, but evidently prefers the former and styles them collectively Bodhisattva-Piṭaka. It enumerates about fifty sutras by name, beginning with the Prajñâ-pâramitâ, the Lotus and other well-known texts. Then comes a list of works with titles ending in Samâdhi, followed by others called Paripṛicchâ[159] or questions. A new category seems to be formed by the Buddhâvataṃsaka-sûtra with which the sutras about Amitâbha's Paradise are associated. Then comes the Mahâsannipâta-sûtra associated with works which may correspond to the Ratnakûṭa division of the Chinese Canon.[160] The writer adds that there are "hundreds of myriads of similar sutras classified in groups and categories." He mentions the Vinaya and Abhidharma without further particulars, whereas in describing the Hinayanist versions of these two Pitakas he gives many details.
The second work was translated by Hsüan Chuang, so it was probably written before 600 A.D.[158] Other than that, there's no external evidence to determine its date. It shows Nandimitra explaining on his deathbed the measures the Buddha took to protect the True Law and where that Law can be found. Similar to the Chinese Tripitaka, it acknowledges both Mahayanist and Hinayanist texts but clearly favors the former, labeling them collectively as Bodhisattva-Piṭaka. It lists around fifty sutras by name, starting with the Prajñâ-pâramitâ, the Lotus, and other well-known texts. Following that is a list of works with titles ending in Samâdhi, then others called Paripṛicchâ[159] or questions. A new category appears to be formed by the Buddhâvataṃsaka-sûtra, which is associated with the sutras about Amitâbha's Paradise. Next is the Mahâsannipâta-sûtra, linked to works that may correspond to the Ratnakûṭa division of the Chinese Canon.[160] The author adds that there are "hundreds of myriads of similar sutras classified in groups and categories." He mentions the Vinaya and Abhidharma without further details, whereas when discussing the Hinayanist versions of these two Pitakas, he provides many specifics.
The importance of this list lies in the fact that it is Indian rather than in its date, for the earliest catalogue of the Chinese Tripitaka compiled about[161] 510 is perhaps older and certainly [62] ampler. But if the catalogue stood alone, it might be hard to say how far the selection of works in it was due to Chinese taste. But taking the Indian and Chinese evidence together, it is clear that in the sixth century Indian Mahayanists (a) tolerated Hinayanist scriptures while preferring their own, (b) made little use of the Vinaya or Abhidharma for argument or edification, though the former was very important as a code, (c) recognized extremely numerous sutras, grouped in various classes such as Mahâsannipâta and Buddhâvataṃsaka, (d) and did not use works called Tantras. Probably much the same is true of the fourth century and even earlier, for Asanga in one work[162] quotes both Maha-and Hinayanist scriptures and among the former cites by name seventeen sutras, including one called Paripṛicchâ or questions.
The significance of this list comes from the fact that it is Indian rather than its date, since the earliest catalog of the Chinese Tripitaka compiled around[161] 510 is probably older and definitely [62] more comprehensive. However, if the catalog existed on its own, it might be difficult to determine how much the selection of works in it was influenced by Chinese preferences. But when we consider the evidence from both Indian and Chinese sources, it’s clear that in the sixth century, Indian Mahayanists (a) accepted Hinayanist scriptures while favoring their own, (b) rarely used the Vinaya or Abhidharma for argument or teaching, although the former was quite significant as a code, (c) acknowledged a vast number of sutras classified into various groups like Mahâsannipâta and Buddhâvataṃsaka, and (d) did not reference works known as Tantras. Likely, the same can be said for the fourth century and even earlier, as Asanga in one work[162] cites both Maha- and Hinayanist scriptures and among the former mentions by name seventeen sutras, including one called Paripṛicchâ or Questions.
FOOTNOTES:
[119] In the Mahâyâna-sûtrâlankâra he quotes frequently from the Samyukta and Ekottara Âgamas, corresponding to the Samyutta and Anguttara Nikâyas of the Pali.
[119] In the Mahâyâna-sûtrâlankâra, he often quotes from the Samyukta and Ekottara Âgamas, which correspond to the Samyutta and Anguttara Nikâyas of the Pali.
[120] A reading Vaitulya has also been found in some manuscripts of the Lotus discovered at Kashgar and it is suggested that the word may refer to the sect of Vetullas or Vetulyakas mentioned in the Commentary on the Kathâvatthu as holding that the Buddha really remained in the Tushita heaven and sent a phantom to represent him in the world and that it was Ânanda, not the Buddha, who preached the law. See Kern, Vers. en Med. der K. Ak. v. Wetenschappen, Letterk., R. 4 D. VIII. pp. 312-9, Amsterdam, 1907, and De la Vallée Poussin's notice of this article in J.R.A.S. 1907, pp. 434-6. But this interpretation does not seem very probable.
[120] A version referenced as Vaitulya has also been found in some manuscripts of the Lotus discovered at Kashgar, and it is suggested that the term might refer to the sect of Vetullas or Vetulyakas mentioned in the Commentary on the Kathâvatthu, which claimed that the Buddha actually stayed in Tushita heaven and sent a phantom to represent him in the world, with Ânanda, not the Buddha, preaching the law. See Kern, Vers. en Med. der K. Ak. v. Wetenschappen, Letterk., R. 4 D. VIII. pp. 312-9, Amsterdam, 1907, and De la Vallée Poussin's review of this article in J.R.A.S. 1907, pp. 434-6. However, this interpretation doesn't seem very likely.
[121] IV. 160. 5.
[122] See Cullavagga, V. 33. The meaning evidently is that the Buddha's words are not to be enshrined in an artificial literary form which will prevent them from being popular.
[122] See Cullavagga, V. 33. The point is clearly that the Buddha's teachings shouldn't be confined to a rigid literary structure that would make them less accessible to the people.
[123] Sûtrâlankâra, I. 2.
[126] Dig. Nik. 32.
[127] Watters, Yüan Chwang, II. p. 160.
[129] The word pâram-itâ means as an adjective gone to the further shore or transcendent. As a feminine substantive it means a transcendent virtue or perfection.
[129] The term pâram-itâ, when used as an adjective, means gone to the further shore or transcendent. As a feminine noun, it refers to a transcendent virtue or perfection.
[130] See Walleser, Prajñâ-pâramitâ in Quellen der Religionsgeschichte, pp. 15 ff. S.B.E. XLIX. Nanjio, Catalogue Nos. 1-20 and Rajendralala Mitra's Nepalese Buddhist Literature, pp. 177 ff. Versions are mentioned consisting of 125,000 verses, 100,000 verses, 25,000 verses, 10,000 verses and 8,000 verses respectively. (Similarly at the beginning of the Mahâbhârata we are told that the Epic consists of 8,800 verses, of 24,000 and of 100,000.) Of these the last or Ashṭasâhasrikâ has been published in the Bibliotheca Indica and the second or Śatasâhasrikâ is in process of publication. It is in prose, so that the expression "verses" appears not to mean that the works are Gâthâs. A Khotanese version of the Vajracchedikâ is edited in Hoernle's Manuscript Remains by Sten Konow. The Sanskrit text was edited by Max Müller in Anecdota Oxoniensia.
[130] See Walleser, Prajñâ-pâramitâ in Quellen der Religionsgeschichte, pp. 15 ff. S.B.E. XLIX. Nanjio, Catalogue Nos. 1-20 and Rajendralala Mitra's Nepalese Buddhist Literature, pp. 177 ff. Versions are noted with 125,000 verses, 100,000 verses, 25,000 verses, 10,000 verses, and 8,000 verses respectively. (Likewise, at the beginning of the Mahâbhârata, we learn that the Epic consists of 8,800 verses, 24,000, and 100,000.) Of these, the last or Ashṭasâhasrikâ has been published in the Bibliotheca Indica, and the second or Śatasâhasrikâ is currently being published. It is in prose, so the term "verses" seems not to imply that the works are Gâthâs. A Khotanese version of the Vajracchedikâ is edited in Hoernle's Manuscript Remains by Sten Konow. The Sanskrit text was edited by Max Müller in Anecdota Oxoniensia.
[131] The Sanskrit text has been edited by Kern and Nanjio in Bibliotheca Buddhica; translated by Burnouf (Le Lotus de la bonne Loi), 1852 and by Kern (Saddharma-Puṇḍarîka) in S.B.E. vol. XXI.
[131] The Sanskrit text has been edited by Kern and Nanjio in Bibliotheca Buddhica; translated by Burnouf (Le Lotus de la bonne Loi), 1852, and by Kern (Saddharma-Puṇḍarîka) in S.B.E. vol. XXI.
[132] There appears to have been an earlier Chinese version of 255 A.D. but it has been lost. See Nanjio, p. 390. One of the later Chinese versions alludes to the existence of two recensions (Nanjio, No. 139). See B.E.F.E.O. 1911, p. 453. Fragments of a shorter and apparently earlier recension of the Lotus have been discovered in E. Turkestan. See J.R.A.S. 1916, pp. 269-277.
[132] It seems there was an earlier Chinese version from 255 A.D., but it's been lost. See Nanjio, p. 390. One of the later Chinese versions mentions two different editions (Nanjio, No. 139). See B.E.F.E.O. 1911, p. 453. Fragments of a shorter and seemingly earlier version of the Lotus have been found in E. Turkestan. See J.R.A.S. 1916, pp. 269-277.
[133] Edited by Rajendralala Mitra in the Bibliotheca Indica and partially translated in the same series. A later critical edition by Lefmann, 1902-8.
[133] Edited by Rajendralala Mitra in the Bibliotheca Indica and partially translated in the same series. A later critical edition by Lefmann, 1902-8.
[135] See Burnouf, Introduction, pp. 458 ff. and J.R.A.S. 1905, pp. 831 ff. Rajendralala Mitra, Nepalese Buddhist Literature, p. 113. A brief analysis is given in J.A.S.B. June, 1905 according to which the sûtra professes to be the work of a human author, Jina of the clan of Kâtyâyana born at Campâ. An edition of the Sanskrit text published by the Buddhist Text Society is cited but I have not seen it. Chinese translations were made in 443 and 515 but the first is incomplete and does not correspond with our Sanskrit text.
[135] See Burnouf, Introduction, pp. 458 ff. and J.R.A.S. 1905, pp. 831 ff. Rajendralala Mitra, Nepalese Buddhist Literature, p. 113. A brief analysis is provided in J.A.S.B. June, 1905, which states that the sûtra claims to be written by a human author, Jina from the Kâtyâyana clan born in Campâ. An edition of the Sanskrit text published by the Buddhist Text Society is mentioned, but I haven't seen it. Chinese translations were made in 443 and 515, but the first one is incomplete and doesn’t match our Sanskrit text.
[137] See Nanjio, No. 127 and F.W.K. Muller in Abhandl. der K. Preuss. Akad. der Wissenschaften, 1908. The Uigur text is published in Bibliotheca Buddhica, 1914. Fragments of the Sanskrit text have also been found in Turkestan.
[137] See Nanjio, No. 127 and F.W.K. Muller in Abhandl. der K. Preuss. Akad. der Wissenschaften, 1908. The Uigur text is published in Bibliotheca Buddhica, 1914. Fragments of the Sanskrit text have also been found in Turkestan.
[138] Abstract by Raj. Mitra, Nepalese Buddhist Lit. pp. 90 ff. The Śikshâsamuccaya cites the Gaṇḍa-vyûha several times and does not mention the Avataṃsaka.
[138] Abstract by Raj. Mitra, Nepalese Buddhist Lit. pp. 90 ff. The Śikshâsamuccaya refers to the Gaṇḍa-vyûha several times and doesn't mention the Avataṃsaka.
[139] The statement was first made on the authority of Takakusu quoted by Winternitz in Ges. Ind. Lit. II. i. p. 242. Watanabe in J.R.A.S. 1911, 663 makes an equally definite statement as to the identity of the two works. The identity is confirmed by Pelliot in J.A. 1914, II. pp. 118-121.
[139] The statement was first made based on the authority of Takakusu, as quoted by Winternitz in Ges. Ind. Lit. II. i. p. 242. Watanabe in J.R.A.S. 1911, 663 also makes a clear statement regarding the identity of the two works. This identity is confirmed by Pelliot in J.A. 1914, II. pp. 118-121.
[141] See J.R.A.S. 1911, 663.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See J.R.A.S. 1911, 663.
[143] Translated in part by Beal, Catena of Buddhist Scriptures, pp. 286-369. See also Teitaro Suzuki, Outlines of Mahâyâna, p. 157. For notices of the text see Nanjio, Nos. 399, 446, 1588. Fa-Hsien, chap. XXIX. For the equivalence of Shou-lêng-yen and Śûrangama see Nanjio's note to No. 399 and Julien, Méthode, 1007 and Vasilief, p. 175.
[143] Partially translated by Beal, Catena of Buddhist Scriptures, pp. 286-369. Also check Teitaro Suzuki, Outlines of Mahâyâna, p. 157. For information on the text, see Nanjio, Nos. 399, 446, 1588. Fa-Hsien, chap. XXIX. For the equivalence of Shou-lêng-yen and Śûrangama, refer to Nanjio's note for No. 399 and Julien, Méthode, 1007 and Vasilief, p. 175.
[145] Mahâyâna-sûtrâlankâra, XIX. 29.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Mahâyâna-sûtrâlankâra, XIX. 29.
[146] E.g. the Râshtra-pâla-paripṛicchâ edited in Sanskrit by Finot, Biblioth. Buddhica, 1901. The Sanskrit text seems to agree with the Chinese version. The real number of sûtras in the Ratnakûṭa seems to be 48, two being practically the same but represented as uttered on different occasions.
[146] For example, the Râshtra-pâla-paripṛicchâ edited in Sanskrit by Finot, Biblioth. Buddhica, 1901. The Sanskrit text seems to align with the Chinese version. The actual number of sûtras in the Ratnakûṭa appears to be 48, with two being almost identical but recorded as spoken on different occasions.
[147] There is another somewhat similar collection of sûtras in the Chinese Canon called Ta Tsi or Mahâsannipâta but unlike the Ratnakûṭa it seems to contain few well-known or popular works.
[147] There's another somewhat similar collection of sutras in the Chinese Canon called Ta Tsi or Mahâsannipâta, but unlike the Ratnakûṭa, it seems to have few well-known or popular works.
[148] I know of these works only by Raj. Mitra's abstracts, Nepal. Bud. Lit. pp. 95 and 101. The prose text is said to have been published in Sanskrit at Calcutta, 1873.
[148] I only know about these works from Raj. Mitra's abstracts, Nepal. Bud. Lit. pp. 95 and 101. It's reported that the prose text was published in Sanskrit in Calcutta, 1873.
[153] So too do the words Horâpâthaka (astrologer), Ujjhebhaka (? Uzbek), Peliyaksha (? Felix). The word Yogâcâra (I. 120) may refer simply to the practice of Yoga and not to the school which bore this name.
[153] The same applies to the terms Horâpâthaka (astrologer), Ujjhebhaka (? Uzbek), and Peliyaksha (? Felix). The term Yogâcâra (I. 120) might just refer to the practice of Yoga rather than the school that was named after it.
[155] Edited by Bendall in Bibl. Buddhica.
[161] See Nanjio, pp. xiii-xvii.
CHAPTER XXI
CHRONOLOGY OF THE MAHAYANA
In the previous chapters I have enumerated some features of Mahayanism, such as the worship of Bodhisattvas leading to mythology, the deification of Buddhas, entailing a theology as complicated as the Christian creeds, the combination of metaphysics with religion, and the rise of new scriptures consecrating all these innovations. I will now essay the more difficult task of arranging these phenomena in some sort of chronological setting.
In the previous chapters, I've listed some aspects of Mahayanism, like the worship of Bodhisattvas that leads to mythology, the deification of Buddhas resulting in a theology as complex as Christian creeds, the blend of metaphysics with religion, and the emergence of new scriptures that formalize all these changes. Now, I will attempt the more challenging task of organizing these phenomena into a chronological framework.
The voluminous Chinese literature concerning Buddhism offers valuable assistance, for the Chinese, unlike the Hindus, have a natural disposition to write simple narratives recording facts and dates. But they are diarists and chroniclers rather than historians. The Chinese pilgrims to India give a good account of their itinerary and experiences, but they have little idea of investigating and arranging past events and merely recount traditions connected with the places which they visited. In spite of this their statements have considerable historical value and on the whole harmonize with the literary and archæological data furnished by India.
The extensive Chinese literature on Buddhism is quite helpful because the Chinese, unlike the Hindus, naturally tend to write straightforward accounts of facts and dates. However, they are more like diarists and chroniclers than historians. The Chinese travelers who went to India provide a solid overview of their journeys and experiences, but they don't really investigate or organize historical events; instead, they mostly recount the traditions linked to the sites they visited. Despite this, their accounts hold significant historical value and generally align well with the literary and archaeological information from India.
The Tibetan Lama Târanâtha who completed his History of Indian Buddhism[163] in 1608 is a less satisfactory authority. He merits attention but also scepticism and caution. His work is a compilation but is not to be despised on that ground, for the Tibetan translations of Sanskrit works offer a rich mine of information about the history of the Mahayana. Unfortunately few of these works take the historical point of view and Târanâtha's own method is as uncritical as his materials. Dire confusion prevails as to chronology and even as to names,[164] so [64] that the work is almost useless as a connected account, though it contains many interesting details.
The Tibetan Lama Târanâtha, who finished his History of Indian Buddhism[163] in 1608, is not the most reliable source. He deserves some attention, but we should also approach his work with skepticism and caution. His writing is more of a compilation, but that doesn’t mean we should dismiss it, as Tibetan translations of Sanskrit texts provide a valuable source of information about the history of Mahayana Buddhism. Unfortunately, few of these texts take a historical approach, and Târanâtha’s method is just as uncritical as the materials he uses. There’s a lot of confusion regarding dates and even names,[164] which makes the work almost pointless as a cohesive account, even though it includes many intriguing details.
Two epochs are of special importance for the development of later Indian Buddhism, that of Kanishka and that of Vasubandhu and his brother Asanga. The reader may expect me to discuss at length the date of Kanishka's accession, but I do not propose to do so for it may be hoped that in the next few years archaeological research in India or Central Asia will fix the chronology of the Kushans and meanwhile it is waste of time to argue about probabilities or at any rate it can be done profitably only in special articles. At present the majority of scholars place his accession at about 78 A.D., others put it back to 58 B.C. and arrange the Kushan kings in a different order,[165] while still others[166] think that he did not come to the throne until the second century was well advanced. The evidence of art, particularly of numismatics, indicates that Kanishka reigned towards the end of his dynasty rather than at the beginning, but the use of Greek on his coins and his traditional connection with the beginnings of the Mahayana are arguments against a very late date. If the date 78 A.D. is accepted, the conversion of the Yüeh-chih to Buddhism and its diffusion in Central Asia cannot have been the work of Kanishka, for Buddhism began to reach China by land about the time of the Christian era.[167] There is however no reason to assume that they were his work. Kanishka, like Constantine, probably favoured a winning cause, and Buddhism may have been gradually making its way among the Kushans and their neighbours for a couple of centuries before his time. In any case, however important his reign may [65] have been for the Buddhist Church, I do not think that the history of the Mahayana should be made to depend on his date. Chinese translations, supported by other evidence, indicate that the Mahayanist movement had begun about the time of our era. If it is proved that Kanishka lived considerably later, we should not argue that Mahayanism is later than was supposed but rather that his relation towards it has been misunderstood.[168]
Two periods are particularly significant for the development of later Indian Buddhism: the era of Kanishka and that of Vasubandhu and his brother Asanga. You might expect me to go into detail about when Kanishka came to power, but I won’t do that because it's likely that archaeological research in India or Central Asia will clarify the timeline of the Kushans in the next few years. For now, debating probabilities is a waste of time; such discussions are better suited for specific articles. Currently, most scholars place his rise to power around 78 A.D., while others suggest it was as early as 58 B.C. and arrange the Kushan kings differently,[165] and some[166] believe he didn’t ascend the throne until well into the second century. Evidence from art, especially numismatics, indicates that Kanishka ruled toward the end of his dynasty, not the beginning, but the presence of Greek on his coins and his traditional ties to the early Mahayana argue against a much later date. If we accept 78 A.D. as accurate, then the conversion of the Yüeh-chih to Buddhism and its spread in Central Asia couldn’t have been accomplished by Kanishka, as Buddhism began reaching China by land around the time of the Christian era.[167] However, there's no reason to think they were his doing. Like Constantine, Kanishka probably backed a winning cause, and Buddhism may have already been gaining traction among the Kushans and their neighbors for a couple of centuries before him. Regardless of the significance of his reign for the Buddhist Church, I believe the history of Mahayana shouldn’t hinge on his date. Chinese translations along with other evidence suggest that the Mahayanist movement started around the beginning of our era. If it's shown that Kanishka lived much later, we shouldn't argue that Mahayanism is later than previously thought but rather that the understanding of his relationship to it has been misinterpreted.[168]
The date of Vasubandhu has also been much discussed and scholars have generally placed him in the fourth or fifth century but Péri[169] appears to have proved that he lived from about 280 to 360 A.D. and I shall adopt this view. This chronology makes a reasonable setting for the development of Buddhism. If Kanishka reigned from about 78 to 123 A.D. or even later, there is no difficulty in supposing that Aśvaghosha flourished in his reign and was followed by Nâgârjuna. The collapse of the Kushan Empire was probably accompanied by raids from Iranian tribes, for Persian influence appears to have been strong in India during the confused interval between the Kushans and Guptas (225-320). The latter inaugurated the revival of Hinduism but still showed favour to individual Buddhists, and we know from Fa-Hsien that Buddhism was fairly flourishing during his visit to India (399-415). There is nothing improbable in supposing that Vasubandhu, who is stated to have lived at Court, was patronized by the early Guptas. The blank in Buddhist history which follows his career can be explained first by the progress of Hinduism at the expense of Buddhism and secondly by the invasions of the Huns. The Chinese pilgrim Sung-Yün has left us an account of India in this distressful period and for the seventh century the works of Hsüan Chuang and I-Ching give copious information.
The timeline of Vasubandhu has been widely debated, with scholars generally placing him in the fourth or fifth century. However, Péri[169] seems to have established that he lived from around 280 to 360 A.D., and I will adopt this perspective. This timeline provides a reasonable context for the evolution of Buddhism. If Kanishka ruled approximately from 78 to 123 A.D. or even later, it's plausible that Aśvaghosha thrived during his reign and was succeeded by Nâgârjuna. The fall of the Kushan Empire likely coincided with incursions by Iranian tribes, as Persian influence appears to have been significant in India during the tumultuous period between the Kushans and Guptas (225-320). The Guptas initiated a revival of Hinduism but still supported individual Buddhists, and we know from Fa-Hsien that Buddhism was quite prosperous during his visit to India (399-415). It’s not unlikely that Vasubandhu, who reportedly lived at Court, received patronage from the early Guptas. The gap in Buddhist history following his career can be attributed firstly to the growth of Hinduism at the cost of Buddhism and secondly to the invasions of the Huns. The Chinese traveler Sung-Yün has provided an account of India during this challenging time, and for the seventh century, the writings of Hsüan Chuang and I-Ching offer extensive information.
In investigating the beginnings of the Mahayana we may start from the epoch of Asoka, who is regarded by tradition as the patron and consolidator of the Hinayanist Church. And the tradition seems on the whole correct: the united evidence of [66] texts and inscriptions goes to show that the Buddhists of Asoka's time held the chief doctrines subsequently professed by the Sinhalese Church and did not hold the other set of doctrines known as Mahayanist. That these latter are posterior in time is practically admitted by the books that teach them, for they are constantly described as the crown and completion of a progressive revelation. Thus the Lotus[170] illustrates the evolution of doctrine by a story which curiously resembles the parable of the prodigal son except that the returned penitent does not recognize his father, who proceeds to reveal gradually his name and position, keeping back the full truth to the last. Similarly it is held in the Far East that there were five periods in Śâkyamuni's teaching which after passing through the stage of the Hinayana culminated in the Prajñâ-pâramitâ and Amitâbha sutras shortly before his death. Such statements admit the historical priority of the Hinayana: it is rudimentary (that is early) truth which needs completion and expansion. Many critics demur to the assumption that primitive Buddhism was a system of ethics purged of superstition and mythology. And in a way they are right. Could we get hold of a primitive Buddhist, we should probably find that miracles, magic, and superhuman beings played a large part in his mind and that the Buddha did not appear to him as what we call a human teacher. In that sense the germs of the Mahayana existed in the life-time of Gotama. But the difference between early and later Buddhism lies in this, that the deities who surround the Buddha in the Pali Pitakas are mere accessories: his teaching would not be affected if they were all removed. But the Bodhisattvas in the Lotus or the Sutra of the Happy Land have a doctrinal significance.
In looking into the origins of Mahayana Buddhism, we can begin with the era of Asoka, who is traditionally seen as the supporter and unifier of the Hinayanist Church. This tradition appears to be mostly accurate: the combined evidence from [66] texts and inscriptions suggests that the Buddhists during Asoka's time adhered to the main doctrines later embraced by the Sinhalese Church and did not subscribe to the distinct set of beliefs known as Mahayana. The idea that these latter beliefs are more recent is effectively acknowledged by the texts that teach them, as they are often referred to as the pinnacle and fulfillment of a progressive revelation. For instance, the Lotus[170] illustrates the development of doctrine through a story that closely resembles the parable of the prodigal son, except in this case, the repentant son doesn’t recognize his father, who gradually reveals his identity and role while withholding the complete truth until the end. Similarly, it is believed in the Far East that there were five phases in Śâkyamuni's teachings which, after evolving through the Hinayana stage, culminated in the Prajñâ-pâramitâ and Amitâbha sutras just before his passing. Such statements acknowledge the historical precedence of Hinayana: it represents foundational (early) truths that require completion and expansion. Many critics challenge the notion that primitive Buddhism was simply a system of ethics stripped of superstition and mythology, and in some ways, they are correct. If we were to encounter a primitive Buddhist, we would likely discover that miracles, magic, and supernatural beings held significant importance in his belief system, and the Buddha wouldn’t have been perceived as merely a human teacher. In that regard, the seeds of Mahayana existed during Gotama’s lifetime. However, the distinction between early and later Buddhism lies in the fact that the deities surrounding the Buddha in the Pali Pitakas are merely supplementary: his teachings would remain unchanged even if they were entirely removed. In contrast, the Bodhisattvas in the Lotus or the Sutra of the Happy Land have essential doctrinal significance.
Though in India old ideas persist with unusual vitality, still even there they can live only if they either develop or gather round them new accretions. As one of the religions of India, Buddhism was sensitive to the general movement of Indian thought, or rather it was a part of that movement. We see as clearly in Buddhist as in non-Buddhist India that there was a tendency to construct philosophic systems and another tendency to create deities satisfying to the emotions as well as to the intellect and yet another tendency to compose new scriptures. But apart [67] from this parallel development, it becomes clear after the Christian era that Buddhism is becoming surrounded by Hinduism. The influence is not indeed one-sided: there is interdependence and interpenetration but the net result is that the general Indian features of each religious period overpower the specially Buddhist features and in the end we find that while Hinduism has only been profoundly modified Buddhism has vanished.
Though old ideas in India remain surprisingly strong, they can only thrive if they either evolve or attract new additions. As one of the religions of India, Buddhism was in tune with the broader trends of Indian thought, or rather it was part of that trend. We can clearly see in both Buddhist and non-Buddhist India that there was a tendency to create philosophical systems, as well as a desire to develop deities that appealed to both emotions and intellect, and yet another tendency to produce new scriptures. But apart [67] from this parallel development, it becomes evident after the Christian era that Buddhism is increasingly surrounded by Hinduism. The influence is not one-sided: there is a mutual dependence and blending, but the overall outcome is that the dominant features of each religious period in India overshadow the specifically Buddhist elements, and ultimately, we find that while Hinduism has been profoundly altered, Buddhism has disappeared.
If we examine the Pali Pitakas, including the heresies mentioned in the Kathâvatthu, we find that they contain the germs of many Mahayanist ideas. Thus side by side with the human portrait of the Buddha there is the doctrine that he is one in a series of supernatural teachers, each with the same life-history, and this life is connected with the whole course of nature, as is shown by the sympathetic earthquakes which mark its crises. His birth is supernatural and had he willed it he could have lived until the end of the present Kalpa.[171] So, too, the nature of a Buddha when he is released from form, that is after death, is deep and unfathomable as the ocean.[172] The Kathâvatthu condemns the ideas (thus showing that they existed) that Buddhas are born in all quarters of the universe, that the Buddha was superhuman in the ordinary affairs of life, that he was not really born in the world of men and that he did not preach the Law himself. These last two heresies are attributed by the commentary to the Vetulyakas who are said to have believed that he remained in the Tushita heaven and sent a phantom to preach on earth. Here we have the rudiments of the doctrine afterwards systematized under the name of the three bodies of Buddha. Similarly though Nirvana is regarded as primarily an ethical state, the Pali Canon contains the expression Nirvâṇadhâtu and the idea[173] that Nirvana is a sphere or realm (âyatanam) which transcends the transitory world and in which such antitheses are coming and going, birth and death, cease to exist. This foreshadows the doctrine of Bhûta-tathatâ and we seem to hear a prelude to the dialectic of Nâgârjuna when the Kathâvatthu discusses whether Suññatâ or the void is predicable of the Skandhas and when it condemns the views that anything now existing existed in the past: and that knowledge of the present is possible (whereas the moment anything is known it is [68] really past). The Kathâvatthu also condemns the proposition that a Bodhisattva can be reborn in realms of woe or fall into error, and this proposition hints that the career of a Bodhisattva was considered of general interest.
If we look at the Pali Pitakas, including the heresies mentioned in the Kathâvatthu, we see that they hold the seeds of many Mahayanist ideas. Alongside the human portrayal of the Buddha, there's the belief that he is one in a line of supernatural teachers, each with the same life story, and this life is linked to the entire course of nature, illustrated by the sympathetic earthquakes that accompany its turning points. His birth is supernatural, and had he chosen, he could have lived until the end of the current Kalpa.[171] Similarly, the nature of a Buddha after being released from form, that is after death, is deep and unfathomable like the ocean.[172] The Kathâvatthu rejects ideas (indicating that they existed) that Buddhas are born in all parts of the universe, that the Buddha was superhuman in everyday life, that he wasn’t really born in the human realm, and that he didn’t preach the Law himself. The last two heresies are attributed by the commentary to the Vetulyakas, who supposedly believed he stayed in the Tushita heaven and sent a phantom to preach on Earth. Here we see the beginnings of the doctrine later systematized as the three bodies of Buddha. Likewise, although Nirvana is primarily seen as an ethical state, the Pali Canon includes the term Nirvâṇadhâtu and the idea[173] that Nirvana is a sphere or realm (âyatanam) that goes beyond the temporary world where opposites like coming and going, birth and death, cease to exist. This hints at the doctrine of Bhûta-tathatâ, and we seem to catch an early glimpse of the dialectic of Nâgârjuna when the Kathâvatthu explores whether Suññatâ or the void can be applied to the Skandhas and when it rejects the views that anything currently existing existed in the past: and that knowledge of the present is possible (since the moment anything is known, it is [68] actually past). The Kathâvatthu also dismisses the idea that a Bodhisattva can be reborn in realms of suffering or fall into error, suggesting that the journey of a Bodhisattva was viewed as generally significant.
The Mahayana grows out of the Hinayana and in many respects the Hinayana passes into it and is preserved unchanged. It is true that in reading the Lotus we wonder how this marvellous cosmic vision can represent itself as the teaching of Gotama, but the Buddhacarita of Aśvaghosha, though embellished with literary mythology, hardly advances in doctrine beyond the Pali sutras describing the marvels of the Buddha's nativity[174] and the greater part of Nâgârjuna's Friendly Epistle, which purports to contain an epitome of the faith, is in phraseology as well as thought perfectly in harmony with the Pali Canon. Whence comes this difference of tone in works accepted by the same school? One difficulty of the historian who essays to account for the later phases of Buddhism is to apportion duly the influence of Indian and foreign elements. On the one hand, the Mahayana, whether we call it a development or perversion, is a product of Indian thought. To explain its trinities, its saviours, its doctrine of self sacrifice it is not necessary to seek abroad. New schools, anxious to claim continuity and antiquity, gladly retained as much of the old doctrine as they could. But on the other hand, Indian Buddhism came into contact with foreign, especially Iranian, ideas and undoubtedly assimilated some of them. From time to time I have drawn attention to such cases in this work, but as a rule the foreign ideas are so thoroughly mastered and indianized that they cease to be obvious. They merely open up to Indian thought a new path wherein it can move in its own way.
The Mahayana develops from the Hinayana, and in many ways, the Hinayana transitions into it and remains unchanged. It's true that while reading the Lotus, we might wonder how this amazing cosmic vision can represent the teachings of Gotama. However, the Buddhacarita by Aśvaghosha, despite being decorated with literary mythology, doesn't really go beyond the teachings found in the Pali sutras that describe the wonders of the Buddha's birth[174]. Similarly, most of Nâgârjuna's Friendly Epistle, which claims to summarize the faith, is phrased and thought out in complete harmony with the Pali Canon. So, where does this difference in tone come from in texts accepted by the same school? One challenge for historians trying to explain the later developments of Buddhism is figuring out the balance of Indian and foreign influences. On one hand, the Mahayana, whether seen as a development or a distortion, is rooted in Indian thought. To explain its trinities, saviors, and doctrine of self-sacrifice, there's no need to look outside. New schools eager to claim continuity and age eagerly kept as much of the old teachings as they could. On the other hand, Indian Buddhism did come into contact with foreign ideas, especially from Iran, and certainly absorbed some of them. I have pointed out such examples throughout this work, but generally, the foreign ideas are so thoroughly integrated and Indianized that they stop being obvious. They simply create new avenues for Indian thought to explore in its own fashion.
In the period following Asoka's death Buddhism suffered a temporary eclipse. Pushyamitra who in 184 B.C. overthrew the Mauryas and established the Sunga dynasty was a patron of the Brahmans. Târanâtha describes him[175] as a ferocious persecutor, and the Divyâvadâna supports the story. But the persecution, if it really occurred, was probably local and did not seriously check the spread of Buddhism, which before the time of Kanishka had extended northwards to Bactria and Kashmir. The latter territory became the special home of the Sarvâstivâdins. It was [69] in the reign of Pushyamitra that the Græco-Bactrian king Menander or Milinda invaded India (155-3 B.C.) and there were many other invasions and settlements of tribes coming from the north-west and variously described as Sakas, Pahlavas, Parthians and Yavanas, culminating in the conquests of the Kushans. The whole period was disturbed and confused but some general statements can be made with considerable confidence.
In the time after Asoka's death, Buddhism faced a brief decline. Pushyamitra, who overthrew the Mauryas in 184 B.C. and started the Sunga dynasty, supported the Brahmins. Târanâtha describes him[175] as a fierce persecutor, and the Divyâvadâna backs up this account. However, if the persecution did happen, it was likely localized and didn't significantly halt the growth of Buddhism, which had already spread north to Bactria and Kashmir before Kanishka's time. Kashmir became a key area for the Sarvâstivâdins. It was during Pushyamitra's reign that the Greco-Bactrian king Menander or Milinda invaded India (155-3 B.C.), and there were many other invasions and settlements by tribes from the northwest, referred to as Sakas, Pahlavas, Parthians, and Yavanas, culminating in the successful incursions of the Kushans. The entire period was chaotic and convoluted, but some broad conclusions can be drawn with a fair degree of certainty.
From about 300 B.C. to 100 A.D. we find inscriptions, buildings and statues testifying to the piety of Buddhist and Jain donors but hardly any indications of a similar liberality to Brahmans. In the second and third centuries A.D. grants of land to Brahmans and their temples begin to be recorded and in the fourth century (that is with the rise of the Gupta Dynasty) such grants become frequent. These facts can hardly be interpreted otherwise than as meaning that from 300 B.C. to 100 A.D. the upper classes of India favoured Buddhism and Jainism and did not favour the Brahmans in the same way or to the same extent. But it must be remembered that the religion of the Brahmans continued throughout this period and produced a copious literature, and also that the absence of works of art may be due to the fact that their worship was performed in sacrificial enclosures and that they had not yet begun to use temples and statues. After the first century A.D. we have first a gradual and then a rapid rise in Brahmanic influence. Inscriptions as well as books indicate that a linguistic change occurred in the same period. At first popular dialects were regarded as sufficiently dignified and current to be the medium for both scripture and official records. Sanskrit remained a thing apart—the peculiar possession of the Brahman literati. Then the popular language was Sanskritized, the rules of Sanskrit grammar being accepted as the standard to which it ought to conform, though perfect conformity was impracticable. In much the same way the modern Greeks try to bring Romaic into line with classical Greek. Finally Sanskrit was recognized as the proper language for literature, government and religion. The earliest inscriptions[176] in correct Sanskrit seem to date from the second century A.D. Further, the invaders who entered India from the [70] north-west favoured Buddhism on the whole. Coins indicate that some of them worshipped Śiva[177] but the number and beauty of Buddhist monuments erected under their rule can hardly be interpreted except as a sign of their patronage. And their conversion was natural for they had no strong religious convictions of their own and the Brahmans with their pride of caste shrank from foreigners. But Buddhism had no prejudice of race or class: it was animated by a missionary spirit and it was probably the stronger creed at this period. It not only met the invaders on their entry into India but it sent missionaries to them in Bactria and Afghanistan, so that to some extent they brought Buddhism with them. But it was a Buddhism combined with the most varied elements. Hellenic art and religion had made the figures of Apollo, Herakles and Helios familiar in Bactria, and both Bactria and northern India were in touch with Zoroastrians. The mixed cults of these borderlands readily professed allegiance to the Buddha but, not understanding Indian ideas, simply made him into a deity and having done this were not likely to repudiate other Indian deities. Thus in its outward form the Buddhism of the invaders tended to be a compound of Indian, Greek and Persian ideas in which Sun worship played a large part, for not only Indian myths, but Apollo and Helios and the Persian Mithra all entered into it. Persian influence in art is discernible as early as the architecture of Asoka: in doctrine it has something to do with such figures as Vairocana and Amitâbha. Græco-Roman influence also was powerful in art and through art affected religion. In Asoka's time likenesses of the Buddha were unknown and the adoration of images, if not entirely due to the art of Gandhara, was at least encouraged by it.
From around 300 B.C. to 100 A.D., there are inscriptions, buildings, and statues that show the generosity of Buddhist and Jain donors, but there are almost no signs of similar support for Brahmins. In the second and third centuries A.D., records of land grants to Brahmins and their temples start to appear, and by the fourth century (with the rise of the Gupta Dynasty), these grants become frequent. These facts suggest that from 300 B.C. to 100 A.D., the upper classes in India favored Buddhism and Jainism over Brahmins. However, it's important to note that Brahmin religion persisted throughout this period, producing abundant literature. The lack of artworks may be because their worship occurred in sacrificial enclosures rather than in temples with statues. After the first century A.D., there’s a gradual, then rapid, increase in Brahmin influence. Inscriptions and texts show that a change in language happened during this time. Initially, local dialects were considered dignified enough to be used for scriptures and official documents. Sanskrit remained distinct—something exclusive to Brahmin scholars. Eventually, the popular language was influenced by Sanskrit, adopting its grammatical rules as a standard, although perfect conformity was unrealistic. This is similar to how modern Greeks try to align Romaic with classical Greek. In the end, Sanskrit was established as the primary language for literature, government, and religion. The earliest inscriptions in correct Sanskrit seem to date back to the second century A.D. Additionally, the invaders coming into India from the northwest generally favored Buddhism. Coins show that some of them worshiped Śiva, but the number and beauty of Buddhist monuments built during their rule can only be seen as a sign of their support. Their conversion was understandable since they lacked strong religious beliefs of their own, and Brahmins, with their caste pride, were hesitant to accept foreigners. Buddhism, on the other hand, had no racial or class biases; it was driven by a missionary zeal and was probably the more dominant faith at that time. It welcomed the invaders upon their arrival in India and even sent missionaries to Bactria and Afghanistan, which means they brought some form of Buddhism with them. This Buddhism was mixed with various elements. Hellenic art and religion made figures like Apollo, Herakles, and Helios familiar in Bactria, and both Bactria and northern India had connections with Zoroastrians. The mixed beliefs in these border regions easily accepted the Buddha but, without an understanding of Indian concepts, simply turned him into a deity and were unlikely to reject other Indian deities. Thus, the Buddhism of the invaders often combined Indian, Greek, and Persian ideas, with sun worship being significant since Indian myths, as well as Apollo, Helios, and the Persian Mithra, had a role in it. Persian influence in art can be seen as early as Asoka's architecture, while doctrinal aspects are linked to figures like Vairocana and Amitâbha. Græco-Roman influence was also strong in art, which in turn affected religion. During Asoka's time, representations of the Buddha were not common, and the worship of images—if not entirely due to the art of Gandhara—was at least encouraged by it.
But though coins and sculpture bring clearly before us a medley of deities corresponding to a medley of human races, they do not help us much in tracing the growth of thought, phases of which are preserved in a literature sufficiently copious though the record sometimes fails at the points of transition where it would be of most interest. It is natural that sacred books should record accepted results rather than tentative innovations and even disguise the latter. But we can fix a few dates which enable us to judge what shape Buddhism was taking [71] about the time of the Christian era. The Tibetan historian Târanâtha is not of much help, for his chronology is most confused, but still he definitely connects the appearance of Mahayanist texts with the reign of Kanishka and the period immediately following it[178] and regards them as a new phenomenon. Greater assistance is furnished by the Chinese translators, whose dates are known with some exactitude. Thus the earliest Buddhist work rendered into Chinese is said to be the sutra of forty-two sections, translated by Kâśyapa Mâtanga in 67 A.D. It consists of extracts or resumés of the Buddha's teaching mostly prefaced by the words "The Buddha said," doubtless in imitation of the Confucian Analects where the introductory formula "The master said" plays a similar part. Its ideas and precepts are Hinayanist:[179] the Arhat is held up as the ideal and in a remarkable passage[180] where the degrees of sanctity are graded and compared no mention is made of Bodhisattvas. This first translation was followed by a long series of others, principally from the Sûtra-Piṭaka, for very little of the Vinaya was translated before the fifth century. A great number of Hinayanist sutras were translated before 300 A.D. but very few after 450. On the other hand portions of the sutra about Amîda's Paradise, of the Prajñâ-pâramitâ, and of the Avataṃsaka were translated about 150 A.D. and translations of the Lotus and Lalita-vistara appeared about 300.
But while coins and sculptures clearly showcase a mix of deities representing various human races, they don’t really help us much in understanding how thoughts evolved, which are better preserved in the literature that, although extensive, sometimes lacks detail at the most interesting transition points. It’s natural that sacred texts would document established conclusions instead of experimental ideas, and even disguise the latter. However, we can pinpoint a few dates that allow us to see what shape Buddhism was taking around the time of the Christian era. The Tibetan historian Târanâtha isn’t very helpful, as his timeline is quite confusing, but he does link the emergence of Mahayanist texts with Kanishka's reign and the period that followed, viewing them as a new development. The Chinese translators provide more useful information, as their dates are more precise. For instance, the earliest Buddhist work translated into Chinese is said to be the Sutra of Forty-Two Sections, translated by Kâśyapa Mâtanga in 67 A.D. It includes excerpts or summaries of the Buddha's teachings, mainly starting with "The Buddha said," likely imitating the Confucian Analects where the introduction "The master said" serves a similar role. The ideas and principles are Hinayanist: the Arhat is presented as the ideal, and in a notable section where levels of sanctity are ranked and compared, there’s no mention of Bodhisattvas. This initial translation was soon followed by a long series of others, mostly from the Sûtra-Piṭaka, as very little of the Vinaya was translated before the fifth century. Many Hinayanist sutras were translated before 300 A.D., but very few came after 450. Conversely, parts of the sutra about Amîda's Paradise, the Prajñâ-pâramitâ, and the Avataṃsaka were translated around 150 A.D., with translations of the Lotus and Lalita-vistara appearing around 300.
Great caution is necessary in using these data and the circumstances of China as well as of India must be taken into account. If translations of the Vinaya and complete collections of sutras are late in appearing, it does not follow that the corresponding Indian texts are late, for the need of the Vinaya was not felt until monasteries began to spring up. Most of the translations made before the fifth century are extracts and of indifferent workmanship. Some are retained in the Chinese Tripitaka but are superseded by later versions. But however inaccurate and incomplete these older translations may be, if any of them can be identified with a part of an extant Sanskrit [72] work it follows that at least that part of the work and the doctrines contained in it were current in India or Central Asia some time before the translation was made. Applying this principle we may conclude that the Hinayana and Mahayana were flourishing side by side in India and Central Asia in the first century A.D. and that the Happy Land sutras and portions of the Prajñâ-pâramitâ already existed. From that time onwards Mahayanist literature as represented by Chinese translations steadily increases, and after 400 A.D. Hinayanist literature declines, with two exceptions, the Vinaya and the Abhidharma books of the Sarvâstivâdins. The Vinaya was evidently regarded as a rule of life independent of theology, but it is remarkable that Hsüan Chuang after his return from India in 645 should have thought it worth while to translate the philosophy of the Sarvâstivâdins.
Great caution is necessary when using this data, and we must consider the situations in China and India. Just because translations of the Vinaya and complete collections of sutras appear late does not mean the corresponding Indian texts were also late. The need for the Vinaya did not arise until monasteries started to develop. Most translations made before the fifth century are excerpts and of poor quality. Some are included in the Chinese Tripitaka but have been replaced by later versions. However inaccurate and incomplete these older translations may be, if any of them can be linked to a part of a surviving Sanskrit work, it indicates that at least that part and its doctrines were known in India or Central Asia sometime before the translation was done. Using this principle, we can conclude that Hinayana and Mahayana were thriving side by side in India and Central Asia in the first century A.D., and that the Happy Land sutras and parts of the Prajñâ-pâramitâ already existed. From that point onward, Mahayana literature, as seen through Chinese translations, steadily increased, while Hinayana literature declined after 400 A.D., except for the Vinaya and the Abhidharma texts of the Sarvâstivâdins. The Vinaya was clearly viewed as a life guide independent of theology, but it is interesting that Hsüan Chuang, upon returning from India in 645, thought it worthwhile to translate the philosophy of the Sarvâstivâdins.
Other considerations render this chronology probable. Two conspicuous features of the Mahayana are the worship of Bodhisattvas and idealist philosophy. These are obviously parallel to the worship of Śiva and Vishnu, and to the rise of the Vedanta. Now the worship of these deities was probably not prevalent before 300 B.C., for they are almost unknown to the Pali Pitakas, and it was fully developed about the time of the Bhagavad-gîtâ which perhaps assumed its present form a little before the Christian era. Not only is the combination of devotion and metaphysics found in this work similar to the tone of many Mahayanist sutras but the manifestation of Krishna in his divine form is like the transformation scenes of the Lotus.[181] The chief moral principle of the Bhagavad-gîtâ is substantially the same as that prescribed for Bodhisattvas. It teaches that action is superior to inaction, but that action should be wholly disinterested and not directed to any selfish object. This is precisely the attitude of the Bodhisattva who avoids the inaction of those who are engrossed in self-culture as much as the pursuit of wealth or pleasure. Both the Gîtâ and Mahayanist treatises lay stress on faith. He who thinks on Krishna when dying goes to Krishna[182] just as he who thinks on Amitâbha goes [73] to the Happy Land and the idea is not unknown to the Pali texts, for it finds complete expression in the story of Maṭṭhakuṇḍali.[183]
Other factors make this timeline likely. Two noticeable aspects of the Mahayana are the veneration of Bodhisattvas and idealist philosophy. These are clearly similar to the worship of Śiva and Vishnu, as well as the emergence of Vedanta. The worship of these deities probably wasn't widespread before 300 B.C. since they are almost absent in the Pali Pitakas, and it became fully developed around the time of the Bhagavad-gītā, which likely took its current form just before the start of the Christian era. The blend of devotion and metaphysics in this work is akin to the tone found in many Mahayanist sutras, and the depiction of Krishna in his divine form resembles the transformation scenes in the Lotus.[181] The main moral principle of the Bhagavad-gītā is essentially the same as that prescribed for Bodhisattvas. It teaches that action is better than inaction, but that action should be completely selfless and not aimed at any selfish goal. This mirrors the attitude of the Bodhisattva, who steers clear of both the inaction of those focused on self-improvement and the pursuit of wealth or pleasure. Both the Gītā and Mahayanist texts emphasize faith. A person who thinks of Krishna while dying reaches Krishna[182], just as someone who thinks of Amitābha goes to the Happy Land, and this idea is also present in the Pali texts, being fully expressed in the story of Maṭṭhakuṇḍali.[183]
The idea of a benevolent deity to be worshipped with devotion and faith and not with ceremonies is strange to old Buddhism and old Brahmanism alike. It was a popular idea which became so strong that neither priests nor Bhikshus could ignore it and in its ultimate result it is hard to say whether Buddhist or Brahmanic elements are more prominent. Both Avalokita and Krishna are Devas. The former has the beauty of holiness and the strength which it gives, but also the weakness of a somewhat abstract figure: the latter is very personal and springs from the heart of India but to those who are not Hindus seems wanting in purity and simplicity. The divine character of both figures is due to Brahmanism rather than Buddhism, but the new form of worship which laid stress on a frame of mind rather than on ceremonial and the idea of Avatâras or the periodic appearance of superhuman saviours and teachers indicate the influence of Buddhism on Brahmanism.
The idea of a kind god to be worshipped with love and faith instead of rituals is unusual for both ancient Buddhism and ancient Brahmanism. It became such a popular concept that neither priests nor monks could overlook it, and in the end, it’s hard to tell whether Buddhist or Brahmanic elements stand out more. Both Avalokita and Krishna are divine figures. Avalokita embodies the beauty of holiness and the strength it brings, but also has the downside of being somewhat abstract. Krishna, on the other hand, feels very personal and comes from the heart of India, but for those who aren't Hindus, he may seem lacking in purity and simplicity. The divine nature of both figures is more rooted in Brahmanism than in Buddhism, but the new style of worship that focused on a mindset rather than rituals, along with the idea of Avatâras or the regular arrival of superhuman saviors and teachers, shows Buddhism’s influence on Brahmanism.
There is a similar parallel between the newer Buddhist philosophy and the Vedantist school represented by Śankara, and Indian critics detected it. Śankara was called a Pracchanna-bauddha or crypto-buddhist by his theological opponents[184] and the resemblance between the two systems in thought, if not in word, is striking. Both distinguish relative and absolute truth: for both the relative truth is practically theism, for both absolute truth is beyond description and whether it is called Brahman, Dharma-kâya or Śûnyatâ is not equivalent to God in the Christian or Mohammedan sense. Just as for the Vedantist there exist in the light of the highest knowledge neither a personal God nor an individual soul, so the Mâdhyamika Sûtra can declare that the Buddha does not really exist. The Mahayanist philosophers do not use the word Mâyâ but they state the same theory in a more subjective form by ascribing the appearance of the phenomenal world to ignorance, a nomenclature [74] which is derived from the Buddha's phrase, "From ignorance come the Sankhâras."
There is a similar connection between the newer Buddhist philosophy and the Vedantist school represented by Śankara, which Indian critics noticed. Śankara was referred to as a Pracchanna-bauddha or crypto-Buddhist by his theological opponents[184] and the similarities between the two systems in thought, if not in language, are striking. Both differentiate between relative and absolute truth: for both, relative truth is essentially theism, while absolute truth is beyond description, and whether it's called Brahman, Dharma-kâya, or Śûnyatâ is not equivalent to God in the Christian or Muslim sense. Just as the Vedantist believes that, in the light of the highest knowledge, neither a personal God nor an individual soul exists, the Mâdhyamika Sûtra can assert that the Buddha does not truly exist. The Mahayanist philosophers do not use the term Mâyâ, but they express a similar idea in a more subjective manner by attributing the existence of the phenomenal world to ignorance, a terminology [74] derived from the Buddha's phrase, "From ignorance come the Sankhâras."
Here, as elsewhere, Buddhist and Brahmanic ideas acted and reacted in such complex interrelations that it is hard to say which has borrowed from the other. As to dates, the older Upanishads which contain the foundations but not the complete edifice of Vedantism, seem a little earlier than the Buddha. Now we know that within the Vedantist school there were divergences of opinion which later received classic expression in the hands of Śankara and Râmânuja. The latter rejected the doctrines of Mâyâ and of the difference between relative and absolute truth. The germs of both schools are to be found in the Upanishads but it seems probable that the ideas of Śankara were originally worked out among Buddhists rather than among Brahmans and were rightly described by their opponents as disguised Buddhism. As early as 520 A.D. Bodhidharma preached in China a doctrine which is practically the same as the Advaita.
Here, as in other places, Buddhist and Brahmanic ideas influenced each other in such intricate ways that it's difficult to determine which one borrowed from the other. Regarding dates, the older Upanishads, which lay the groundwork but don't fully develop Vedantism, seem to have come out a bit earlier than the Buddha. We now understand that within the Vedantist tradition, there were differing opinions that later became defined by Śankara and Râmânuja. The latter rejected the ideas of Mâyâ and the distinction between relative and absolute truth. The roots of both schools can be found in the Upanishads, but it seems likely that Śankara's ideas were originally developed among Buddhists rather than Brahmans, and were rightly called disguised Buddhism by their critics. As early as 520 A.D., Bodhidharma preached in China a doctrine that is essentially the same as Advaita.
The earliest known work in which the theory of Mâyâ and the Advaita philosophy are clearly formulated is the metrical treatise known as the Kârikâ of Gauḍapâda. This name was borne by the teacher of Śankara's teacher, who must have lived about 700 A.D., but the high position accorded to the work, which is usually printed with the Mâṇḍûkya Upanishad and is practically regarded as[185] a part of it, make an earlier date probable. Both in language and thought it bears a striking resemblance to Buddhist writings of the Mâdhyamika school and also contains many ideas and similes which reappear in the works of Śankara.[186] On the other hand the Lankâvatâra Sûtra which was translated into Chinese in 513 and therefore can hardly have been composed later than 450, is conscious that its doctrines resemble Brahmanic philosophy, for an interlocutor [75] objects that the language used in it by the Buddha about the Tathâgatagarbha is very like the Brahmanic doctrine of the Âtman. To which the Buddha replies that his language is a concession to those who cannot stomach the doctrine of the negation of reality in all its austerity. Some of the best known verses of Gauḍapâda compare the world of appearance to the apparent circle of fire produced by whirling a lighted torch. This striking image occurs first in the Maitrâyana Upanishad (VI. 24), which shows other indications of an acquaintance with Buddhism, and also in the Lankâvatâra Sûtra.
The earliest work where the theory of Mâyâ and Advaita philosophy are clearly laid out is the metrical treatise known as the Kârikâ of Gauḍapâda. This was the name of the teacher of Śankara's teacher, who likely lived around 700 A.D., but the esteemed status given to the work, which is usually published alongside the Mâṇḍûkya Upanishad and is generally considered[185] a part of it, suggests an earlier date. Both in language and ideas, it closely resembles Buddhist writings from the Mâdhyamika school and also includes many concepts and metaphors that appear in the works of Śankara.[186] On the other hand, the Lankâvatâra Sûtra, which was translated into Chinese in 513 and therefore could not have been written later than 450, acknowledges that its teachings are similar to Brahmanic philosophy, as one character points out that the Buddha's descriptions of the Tathâgatagarbha closely resemble the Brahmanic idea of the Âtman. The Buddha responds that his wording is meant to accommodate those who struggle with the doctrine of negating reality in all its severity. Some of the most famous verses of Gauḍapâda compare the world of appearance to the illusory circle of fire created by spinning a lit torch. This vivid image first appears in the Maitrâyana Upanishad (VI. 24), which also hints at familiarity with Buddhism, as well as in the Lankâvatâra Sûtra.
A real affinity unites the doctrine of Śankara to the teaching of Gotama himself. That teaching as presented in the Pali Pitakas is marked by its negative and deliberately circumscribed character. Its rule is silence when strict accuracy of expression is impossible, whereas later philosophy does not shrink from phrases which are suggestive, if not exact. Gotama refuses to admit that the human soul is a fixed entity or Âtman, but he does not condemn (though he also does not discuss) the idea that the whole world of change and becoming, including human souls, is the expression or disguise of some one ineffable principle. He teaches too that the human mind can grow until it develops new faculties and powers and becomes the Buddha mind, which sees the whole chain of births, the order of the world, and the reality of emancipation. As the object of the whole system is practical, Nirvana is always regarded as a terminus ad quem or an escape (nissaranam) from this transitory world, and this view is more accurate as well as more edifying than the view which treats Brahman or Śûnyatâ as the origin of the universe. When the Vedanta teaches that this changing troubled world is merely the disguise of that unchanging and untroubled state into which saints can pass, it is, I believe, following Gotama's thought, but giving it an expression which he would have considered imperfect.
A true connection links Śankara's doctrine to Gotama's teachings. The teachings found in the Pali Pitakas are characterized by their cautious and limited approach. The rule is to remain silent when precise wording isn’t possible, while later philosophy isn’t afraid to use phrases that are suggestive, even if they're not exact. Gotama doesn’t accept the idea that the human soul is a fixed entity or Âtman, but he doesn’t reject (though he also doesn’t discuss) the notion that the entire world of change, including human souls, is a manifestation or illusion of some ineffable principle. He also teaches that the human mind can evolve, developing new capacities and becoming the Buddha mind, which understands the entire cycle of rebirth, the order of the universe, and the reality of liberation. Since the aim of the whole system is practical, Nirvana is always seen as a terminus ad quem or an escape (nissaranam) from this temporary world, and this perspective is both more accurate and more enlightening than the view that considers Brahman or Śûnyatâ as the origin of the universe. When Vedanta states that this changing, troubled world is merely a disguise for the unchanging and serene state into which saints can enter, it seems to me to be following Gotama's ideas but expressing them in a way he would likely see as flawed.
FOOTNOTES:
[163] Translated by Schiefner, 1869. Târanâtha informs us (p. 281) that his chief authorities were the history of Kshemendrabhadra, the Buddhapurâna of Indradatta and Bhaṭaghaṭî's history of the succession of the Âcâryas.
[163] Translated by Schiefner, 1869. Târanâtha tells us (p. 281) that his main sources were the history of Kshemendrabhadra, the Buddhapurâna by Indradatta, and Bhaṭaghaṭî's account of the succession of the Âcâryas.
[164] The Tibetans generally translate instead of transliterating Indian names. It is as if an English history of Greece were to speak of Leader of the People instead of Agesilaus.
[164] The Tibetans usually translate Indian names rather than transliterate them. It's like if an English history of Greece referred to Leader of the People instead of Agesilaus.
[166] E.g. Staël Holstein who also thinks that Kanishka's tribe should be called Kusha not Kushan. Vincent Smith in his latest work (Oxford History of India, p. 130) gives 120 A.D. as the most probable date.
[166] For example, Staël Holstein also believes that Kanishka's tribe should be referred to as Kusha instead of Kushan. Vincent Smith, in his most recent work (Oxford History of India, p. 130), suggests that 120 A.D. is the most likely date.
[167] My chief difficulty in accepting 78-123 A.D. as the reign of Kanishka is that the Chinese Annals record the doings of Pan Ch'ao between 73 and 102 in Central Asia, with which region Kanishka is believed to have had relations, and yet do not mention his name. This silence makes it primâ facie probable that he lived either before or after Pan Ch'ao's career.
[167] My main issue with accepting 78-123 A.D. as the time Kanishka ruled is that the Chinese Annals document Pan Ch'ao's activities in Central Asia from 73 to 102, a period during which Kanishka is thought to have been involved, but they never mention him. This absence suggests that he likely lived either before or after Pan Ch'ao's time.
The catalogues of the Chinese Tripitaka state that An-Shih-Kao (148-170 A.D.) translated the Mârgabhûmi-sûtra of Sangharaksha, who was the chaplain of Kanishka. But this unfortunately proves nothing except that Kanishka cannot have been very late. The work is not a scripture for whose recognition some lapse of time must be postulated. An-Shih-Kao, who came from the west, may very well have translated a recent and popular treatise.
The catalogs of the Chinese Tripitaka say that An-Shih-Kao (148-170 A.D.) translated the Mârgabhûmi-sûtra of Sangharaksha, who was Kanishka's chaplain. But this doesn’t really prove anything except that Kanishka couldn’t have lived too long after that time. The work isn’t a scripture that requires a certain amount of time for its acknowledgment. An-Shih-Kao, who came from the west, could have easily translated a recent and popular text.
[168] In this connection we may remember Târanâtha's statement that Kanishka's Council put an end to dissentions which had lasted about a century. But he also states that it was after the Council that Mahayanist texts began to appear. If Kanishka flourished about 50 A.D. this would fit in with Târanâtha's statements and what we know of the history of Buddhism.
[168] In this regard, we can recall Târanâtha's comment that Kanishka's Council resolved disagreements that had persisted for about a century. However, he also notes that it was after this Council that Mahayanist texts started to emerge. If Kanishka was prominent around 50 A.D., this aligns with Târanâtha's observations and our understanding of Buddhist history.
[170] Chap. IV.
[171] Mahâparinib. Sut. III.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Mahâparinibbāna Sutta III.
[172] Majj. Nik. 72.
[173] Udâna. VIII. 1-4.
[174] Accariyabbhutasuttam. Majj. Nik. 123.
[175] Chap. XVI.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 16.
[176] That of Rudradaman at Girnar, dated 72 in the Saka Era, has hitherto been considered the oldest, but it is now said that one discovered at Isapur near Muttra is older. See J.R.A.S 1912, p. 114.
[176] The inscription of Rudradaman at Girnar, dated 72 in the Saka Era, was previously regarded as the oldest. However, it is now claimed that another inscription found at Isapur near Muttra is older. See J.R.A.S 1912, p. 114.
[177] E.g. Kadphises II and Vasudeva.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ For example, Kadphises II and Vasudeva.
[178] Chaps. XII, XIII.
[179] The last section (42) as translated by Teitaro Suzuki in the Sermons of a Buddhist Abbot may seem an exception, for it contains such statements as "I consider the doctrine of sameness as the absolute ground of reality." But the translation seems to me doubtful.
[179] The last section (42) translated by Teitaro Suzuki in the Sermons of a Buddhist Abbot may appear to be an exception, as it includes statements like "I view the doctrine of sameness as the fundamental basis of reality." However, I find the translation questionable.
[180] Sec. 11.
[181] Just as all gods and worlds are seen within Krishna's body, so we are told in the Kâraṇḍa-vyûha (which is however a later work) that in the pores of Avalokita's skin are woods and mountains where dwell saints and gods.
[181] Just as every god and universe can be found within Krishna's body, we're informed in the Kâraṇḍa-vyûha (which is a later text) that in the pores of Avalokita's skin are forests and mountains where saints and gods reside.
[182] Bhag. G. VIII. 5.
[184] See Râmânuja, Śrîbhâshya, II. 2, 27 and Padma-Purâṇa uttarakanda 43 (quoted by Suhtankar in Vienna Oriental Journ. vol. XXII. 1908). Mâyâvâdam asacchâstrâm pracchannam bauddham ucyate. The Mâdhvas were specially bitter in their denunciation of Śankara.
[184] See Râmânuja, Śrîbhâshya, II. 2, 27 and Padma-Purâṇa uttarakanda 43 (quoted by Suhtankar in Vienna Oriental Journ. vol. XXII. 1908). Mâyâvâdam is referred to as a deceptive doctrine resembling Buddhism. The Mâdhvas were particularly harsh in their criticism of Śankara.
[185] Or as itself forming four separate Upanishads. For other arguments in favour of an early date see Walleser, Älterer Vedânta, pp. 14 ff. He states that the Kârikâ is quoted in the Tibetan translations of Bhavaviveka's Tārkajvālā. Bhavaviveka was certainly anterior to the travels of Hsüan Chuang and perhaps was much earlier. But if he died about 600 A.D. a work quoted by him can hardly have been later than 550 and may be much earlier. But see also Jacobi in J.A.O.S. April, 1913, p. 51.
[185] Or as it itself forms four separate Upanishads. For other reasons supporting an early date, see Walleser, Älterer Vedânta, pp. 14 ff. He mentions that the Kârikâ is referenced in the Tibetan translations of Bhavaviveka's Tārkajvālā. Bhavaviveka certainly lived before the journeys of Hsüan Chuang and may have been even earlier. However, if he died around 600 A.D., a work he cited could hardly be dated later than 550 and might be much earlier. Also, refer to Jacobi in J.A.O.S. April, 1913, p. 51.
[186] For the resemblances to Nâgârjuna see J.R.A.S. 1910, pp. 136 ff. Especially remarkable are II. 32 na nirodho na cotpattir, etc., and IV. 59 and the whole argument that causation is impossible. Noticeable too is the use of Buddhist terms like upâya, nirvâṇa, buddha and âdibuddha, though not always in the Buddhist sense.
[186] For the similarities to Nâgârjuna, see J.R.A.S. 1910, pp. 136 ff. Particularly noteworthy are II. 32 na nirodho na cotpattir, etc., and IV. 59, along with the entire argument that causation is impossible. It's also interesting to see Buddhist terms like upâya, nirvâṇa, buddha, and âdibuddha being used, although not always in their traditional Buddhist context.
CHAPTER XXII
FROM KANISHKA TO VASUBANDHU
Tradition, as mentioned above, connects the rise of the Mahayana with the reign of Kanishka. Materials for forming a picture of Indian life under his rule are not plentiful but it was clearly an age of fusion. His hereditary dominions were ample and he had no need to spend his reign in conquests, but he probably subdued Kashmir as well as Khotan, Yarkand and Kashgar.[187] Hostages from one of these states were sent to reside in India and all accounts agree that they were treated with generosity and that their sojourn improved the relations of Kanishka with the northern tribes. His capital was Purushapura or Peshawar, and the locality, like many other features of his reign, indicates a tendency to amalgamate India with Persia and Central Asia. It was embellished with masterpieces of Gandharan sculpture and its chief ornament was a great stûpa built by the king for the reception of the relics of the Buddha which he collected. This building is described by several Chinese pilgrims[188] and its proportions, though variously stated, were sufficient to render it celebrated in all the Buddhist world. It is said to have been several times burnt, and rebuilt, but so solid a structure can hardly have been totally destroyed by fire and the greater part of the monument discovered in 1908 probably dates from the time of Kanishka. The base is a square measuring 285 feet on each side, with massive towers at the corners, and on each of the four faces projections bearing staircases. [77] The sides were ornamented with stucco figures of the Buddha and according to the Chinese pilgrims the super-structure was crowned with an iron pillar on which were set twenty-five gilded disks. Inside was found a metal casket, still containing the sacred bones, and bearing an inscription which presents two points of great interest. Firstly it mentions "Agiśala the overseer of works at Kanishka's vihâra," that is, probably Agesilaus, a foreigner in the king's service. Secondly it states that the casket was made "for the acceptance of the teachers of the Sarvâstivâdin sect,"[189] and the idea that Kanishka was the special patron of the Mahayana must be reconsidered in the light of this statement.
Tradition, as mentioned earlier, links the rise of Mahayana Buddhism with the reign of Kanishka. There isn’t a lot of information available to paint a clear picture of Indian life during his rule, but it was definitely a time of blending cultures. His kingdom was large enough that he didn’t need to spend his time on conquests, although he likely conquered Kashmir, Khotan, Yarkand, and Kashgar. Hostages from these regions were sent to live in India, and all reports agree that they were treated kindly, which helped improve Kanishka's relations with the northern tribes. His capital was Purushapura, or Peshawar, and the region, like many aspects of his reign, suggests a merging of India with Persia and Central Asia. It was adorned with amazing Gandharan sculptures, and its main feature was a large stûpa built by the king to house the relics of the Buddha that he collected. Several Chinese pilgrims mentioned this structure, and while its measurements vary in accounts, they were notable enough to make it famous throughout the Buddhist world. It’s said to have been burned and rebuilt several times, but such a sturdy building likely wasn't completely destroyed by fire, and most of the monument found in 1908 likely dates back to Kanishka's time. The base is a square that measures 285 feet on each side, with large towers at each corner, and each of the four sides has projections with staircases. The sides were decorated with stucco figures of the Buddha, and according to the Chinese pilgrims, the upper structure was topped with an iron pillar that held twenty-five gilded disks. Inside, they found a metal casket that still contained the sacred bones and had an inscription with two significant points. First, it mentions "Agiśala the overseer of works at Kanishka's vihâra," likely referring to Agesilaus, a foreigner in the king's service. Second, it states that the casket was made "for the acceptance of the teachers of the Sarvâstivâdin sect," and this suggests that the idea of Kanishka as the main supporter of Mahayana Buddhism needs to be reconsidered based on this information.
Legends ascribe Kanishka's fervour for the Buddhist faith not to education but to conversion. His coinage, of which abundant specimens have been preserved, confirms this for it presents images of Greek, Persian, Indian and perhaps Babylonian deities showing how varied was the mythology which may have mingled with Gandharan Buddhism. The coins bearing figures of the Buddha are not numerous and, as he undoubtedly left behind him the reputation of a pious Buddhist, it is probable that they were struck late in his reign and represent his last religious phase.[190] Hsüan Chuang[191] repeats some legends which relate that he was originally anti-Buddhist, and that after his conversion he summoned a council and built a stupa.
Legends suggest that Kanishka's passion for Buddhism came not from education but from conversion. His coins, of which many examples have been found, support this idea as they feature images of Greek, Persian, Indian, and possibly Babylonian gods, showing the diverse mythology that might have blended with Gandharan Buddhism. The coins depicting the Buddha are relatively few, and since he likely left a legacy as a devout Buddhist, it's likely they were minted later in his reign and reflect his final religious beliefs.[190] Hsüan Chuang[191] repeats some legends claiming that he was initially against Buddhism, and that after his conversion, he called a council and built a stupa.
The substance of these legends is probable. Kanishka as a barbarian but docile conqueror was likely to adopt Buddhism if he wished to keep abreast of the thought and civilisation of his subjects, for at that time it undoubtedly inspired the intellect and art of north-western India. Both as a statesman and as an enquirer after truth he would wish to promote harmony and stop sectarian squabbles. His action resembles that of Constantine who after his conversion to Christianity proceeded to summon the Council of Nicæa in order to stop the dissensions of the Church and settle what were the tenets of the religion which he had embraced, a point about which both he and [78] Kanishka seem to have felt some uncertainty. Our knowledge of Kanishka's Council depends chiefly on the traditions reported by Hsüan Chuang[192] which present many difficulties. He tells us that the king, acting in consultation with Parśva, issued summonses to all the learned doctors of his realm. They came in such crowds that a severe test was imposed and only 499 Arhats were selected. There was some discussion as to the place of meeting but finally Kashmir[193] was selected and the king built a monastery for the Brethren. When the Council met, there arose a question as to whether Vasumitra (who is not further described) should be admitted seeing that he was not an Arhat but aspired to the career of a Bodhisattva. But owing to the interposition of spirits he was not only admitted but made president.
The essence of these legends seems likely. Kanishka, as a fierce yet submissive conqueror, probably embraced Buddhism to stay in tune with the thoughts and culture of his subjects, as it clearly influenced the intellect and art of north-western India during that time. Both as a leader and a seeker of truth, he would have wanted to promote unity and put an end to sectarian conflicts. His actions are similar to those of Constantine, who, after converting to Christianity, called for the Council of Nicæa to resolve the Church's disputes and clarify the beliefs of the religion he had adopted—a point about which both he and [78] Kanishka seemed to have had some doubts. Our understanding of Kanishka's Council is primarily based on the traditions reported by Hsüan Chuang[192], which present several challenges. He tells us that the king, after consulting with Parśva, sent out invitations to all the learned scholars in his kingdom. They arrived in such large numbers that a strict selection process was implemented, and only 499 Arhats were chosen. There was some debate about where to hold the meeting, but ultimately Kashmir[193] was chosen, and the king built a monastery for the Brethren. When the Council convened, a question arose about whether Vasumitra (who isn't further described) should be allowed to participate since he wasn't an Arhat but aimed for the path of a Bodhisattva. However, due to the intervention of spirits, he was not only allowed in but also appointed as president.
The texts of the Tripitaka were collected and the Council "composed 100,000 stanzas of Upadeśa Śâstras explanatory of the canonical sûtras, 100,000 stanzas of Vinaya-vibhâshâ Śâstras explanatory of the Vinaya and 100,000 of Abhidharma-vibhâshâ Śâstras explanatory of the Abhidharma. For this exposition of the Tripitaka all learning from remote antiquity was thoroughly examined; the general sense and the terse language (of the Buddhist scriptures) was again and again made clear and distinct, and learning was widely diffused for the safe-guiding of disciples. King Kanishka caused the treatises when finished to be written out on copper plates and enclosed these in stone boxes which he deposited in a tope made for the purpose. He then ordered spirits to keep and guard the texts and not to allow any to be taken out of the country by heretics; those who wished to study them could do so in the country. When leaving to return to his own country, Kanishka renewed Asoka's gift of all Kashmir to the Buddhist Church."[194]
The texts of the Tripitaka were compiled, and the Council "produced 100,000 verses of Upadeśa Śâstras that explain the canonical sûtras, 100,000 verses of Vinaya-vibhâshâ Śâstras that explain the Vinaya, and 100,000 verses of Abhidharma-vibhâshâ Śâstras that explain the Abhidharma. To clarify the Tripitaka, all knowledge from ancient times was thoroughly reviewed; the overall meaning and concise language of the Buddhist scriptures were repeatedly clarified, and knowledge was widely shared for the benefit of the disciples. King Kanishka had the completed texts written on copper plates and placed them in stone boxes, which he buried in a stupa built for this purpose. He then instructed spirits to watch over the texts and prevent any from being removed from the country by heretics; those who wanted to study them could do so while remaining in the country. When departing to return to his homeland, Kanishka renewed Asoka's donation of all of Kashmir to the Buddhist Church."[194]
Paramârtha (499-569 A.D.) in his Life of Vasubandhu[195] gives an account of a council generally considered to be the same [79] as that described by Hsüan Chuang, though the differences in the two versions are considerable. He says that about five hundred years[196] after the Buddha's death (i.e. between 87 B.C. and 13 A.D. if the Buddha died 487 B.C.) an Indian Arhat called Katyâyanî-putra, who was a monk of the Sarvâstivâdin school, went to Kipin or Kashmir. There with 500 other Arhats and 500 Bodhisattvas he collected the Abhidharma of the Sarvâstivâdins and arranged it in eight books called Ka-lan-ta (Sanskrit Grantha) or Kan-tu (Pali Gantho). This compilation was also called Jñâna-prasthâna. He then made a proclamation inviting all who had heard the Buddha preach to communicate what they remembered. Many spirits responded and contributed their reminiscences which were examined by the Council and, when they did not contradict the sûtras and the Vinaya, were accepted, but otherwise were rejected. The selected pieces were grouped according to their subject-matter. Those about wisdom formed the Prajñâ Grantha, and those about meditation the Dhyâna Grantha and so on. After finishing the eight books they proceeded to the composition of a commentary or Vibhâshâ and invited the assistance of Aśvaghosha. When he came to Kashmir, Katyâyanî-putra expounded the eight books to him and Aśvaghosha put them into literary form. At the end of twelve years the composition of the commentary was finished. It consisted of 1,000,000 verses.... Katyâyanî-putra set up a stone inscribed with this proclamation. "Those who hereafter learn this law must not go out of Kashmir. No sentence of the eight books, or of the Vibhâshâ must pass out of the land, lest other schools or the Mahayana should corrupt the true law." This proclamation was reported to the king who approved it. The sages of Kashmir had power over demons and set them to guard the entrance to the country, but we are told that anyone desirous of learning the law could come to Kashmir and was in no way interrupted.
Paramârtha (499-569 A.D.) in his Life of Vasubandhu[195] recounts a council that is generally believed to be the same [79] as the one described by Hsüan Chuang, although there are significant differences between the two versions. He states that about five hundred years[196] after Buddha's death (i.e. between 87 B.C. and 13 A.D. if we assume Buddha died in 487 B.C.), an Indian Arhat named Katyâyanî-putra, who was a monk of the Sarvâstivâdin school, traveled to Kipin or Kashmir. There, along with 500 other Arhats and 500 Bodhisattvas, he gathered the Abhidharma of the Sarvâstivâdins and organized it into eight books called Ka-lan-ta (Sanskrit Grantha) or Kan-tu (Pali Gantho). This compilation was also known as Jñâna-prasthâna. He then made an announcement inviting anyone who had heard the Buddha teach to share what they remembered. Many enlightened beings responded and shared their memories, which were reviewed by the Council; those that did not contradict the sûtras and the Vinaya were accepted, while others were rejected. The chosen pieces were categorized by topic. Those about wisdom formed the Prajñâ Grantha, while those about meditation made up the Dhyâna Grantha, and so on. After completing the eight books, they began writing a commentary or Vibhâshâ and invited Aśvaghosha to help. When he arrived in Kashmir, Katyâyanî-putra explained the eight books to him, and Aśvaghosha crafted them into literary form. After twelve years, the commentary was completed, consisting of 1,000,000 verses. Katyâyanî-putra erected a stone inscribed with this declaration: "Anyone learning this law in the future must not leave Kashmir. No part of the eight books or the Vibhâshâ may leave this land, so that other schools or the Mahayana do not distort the true law." This declaration was conveyed to the king, who approved it. The sages of Kashmir had authority over demons and assigned them to guard the borders, but it is said that anyone wishing to learn the law could come to Kashmir without interruption.
There follows a story telling how, despite this prohibition, a native of Ayodhya succeeded in learning the law in Kashmir [80] and subsequently teaching it in his native land. Paramârtha's account seems exaggerated, whereas the prohibition described by Hsüan Chuang is intelligible. It was forbidden to take the official copies of the law out of Kashmir, lest heretics should tamper with them.
There’s a story about how, despite this ban, a person from Ayodhya managed to learn the law in Kashmir [80] and later taught it back home. Paramârtha's version seems inflated, while the prohibition mentioned by Hsüan Chuang makes sense. It was forbidden to take the official copies of the law out of Kashmir to prevent heretics from tampering with them.
Târanâtha[197] gives a singularly confused account of the meeting, which he expressly calls the third council, but makes some important statements about it. He says that it put an end to the dissensions which had been distracting the Buddhist Church for nearly a century and that it recognized all the eighteen sects as holding the true doctrine: that it put the Vinaya in writing as well as such parts of the Sûtra-piṭaka and Abhidharma as were still unwritten and corrected those which already existed as written texts: that all kinds of Mahayanist writings appeared at this time but that the Śrâvakas raised no opposition.
Târanâtha[197] provides a rather confusing account of the meeting, which he specifically refers to as the third council, but he makes some important points about it. He mentions that it ended the disagreements that had been affecting the Buddhist Church for nearly a century and that it acknowledged all eighteen sects as adhering to the true doctrine. He states that it documented the Vinaya as well as parts of the Sûtra-piṭaka and Abhidharma that were still unwritten, and it corrected those that were already written down. He also notes that various Mahayanist writings emerged during this time, yet the Śrâvakas raised no objections.
It is hard to say how much history can be extracted from these vague and discrepant stories. They seem to refer to one assembly regarded (at least in Tibet) as the third council of the Church and held under Kanishka four or five hundred years[198] after the Buddha's death. As to what happened at the council tradition seems to justify the following deductions, though as the tradition is certainly jumbled it may also be incorrect in details.
It’s tough to determine how much history can be taken from these unclear and inconsistent stories. They appear to refer to one gathering considered (at least in Tibet) as the third council of the Church, held under Kanishka four or five hundred years[198] after the Buddha’s death. Regarding what transpired at the council, tradition seems to support the following conclusions, although since the tradition is definitely mixed up, it may also be wrong in some specifics.
(a) The council is recognized only by the northern Church and is unknown to the Churches of Ceylon, Burma and Siam. It seems to have regarded Kashmir as sacred land outside which the true doctrine was exposed to danger. (b) But it was not a specially Mahayanist meeting but rather a conference of peace and compromise. Târanâtha says this clearly: in Hsüan Chuang's account an assembly of Arhats (which at this time must have meant Hinayanists) elect a president who was not an Arhat and according to Paramârtha the assembly consisted of 500 Arhats and 500 Bodhisattvas who were convened by a leader of the Sarvâstivâdin school and ended by requesting Aśvaghosha to revise their work. (c) The literary result of the council [81] was the composition of commentaries on the three Pitakas. One of these, the Abhidharma-mahâvibhâshâ-śâstra, translated into Chinese in 437-9 and still extant, is said to be a work of encyclopædic character, hardly a commentary in the strict sense. Paramârtha perhaps made a confusion in saying that the Jñâna-prasthâna itself was composed at the council. The traditions indicate that the council to some extent sifted and revised the Tripitaka and perhaps it accepted the seven Abhidharma books of the Sarvâstivâdins.[199] But it is not stated or implied that it composed or sanctioned Mahayanist books. Târanâtha merely says that such books appeared at this time and that the Hinayanists raised no active objection.
(a) The council is only recognized by the northern Church and isn't known to the Churches in Ceylon, Burma, and Siam. It seems to have viewed Kashmir as sacred land, believing that outside of it, the true doctrine was at risk. (b) However, it wasn't solely a Mahayanist gathering; instead, it was a meeting focused on peace and compromise. Târanâtha makes this clear: in Hsüan Chuang's account, an assembly of Arhats (which at that time likely meant Hinayanists) elected a president who was not an Arhat, and according to Paramârtha, the assembly included 500 Arhats and 500 Bodhisattvas convened by a leader from the Sarvâstivâdin school, ultimately requesting Aśvaghosha to revise their work. (c) The council's literary output [81] was the creation of commentaries on the three Pitakas. One of these, the Abhidharma-mahâvibhâshâ-śâstra, was translated into Chinese between 437 and 439 and is still available today; it is described as an encyclopedic work rather than a strict commentary. Paramârtha might have confused things by claiming that the Jñâna-prasthâna itself was created at the council. The traditions suggest that the council somewhat filtered and revised the Tripitaka and possibly accepted the seven Abhidharma books from the Sarvâstivâdins.[199] However, it is not mentioned or implied that it created or approved Mahayanist texts. Târanâtha simply states that such texts emerged during this time and that the Hinayanists did not raise any significant objections.
But if the above is the gist of the traditions, the position described is not clear. The council is recognized by Mahayanists yet it appears to have resulted in the composition of a Sarvâstivâdin treatise, and the tradition connecting the Sarvâstivâdins with the council is not likely to be wrong, for they are recognized in the inscription on Kanishka's casket, and Gandhara and Kashmir were their headquarters. The decisions of councils are often politic rather than logical and it may be that the doctors summoned by Kanishka, while compiling Sarvâstivâdin treatises, admitted the principle that there is more than one vehicle which can take mankind to salvation. Perhaps some compromise based on geography was arranged, such as that Kashmir should be left to the Sarvâstivâdin school which had long flourished there, but that no opposition should be offered to the Mahayanists elsewhere.
But if the above captures the essence of the traditions, the situation described isn’t clear. The council is acknowledged by Mahayanists, yet it seems to have led to the creation of a Sarvâstivâdin text, and the connection between the Sarvâstivâdins and the council is probably accurate since they are mentioned in the inscription on Kanishka's casket, with Gandhara and Kashmir being their main centers. The outcomes of councils are often more about politics than logic, and it’s possible that the scholars called by Kanishka, while compiling Sarvâstivâdin texts, accepted the idea that there is more than one path to salvation. Maybe a compromise based on geography was made, allowing Kashmir to remain with the Sarvâstivâdin school that had thrived there for a long time, while agreeing not to oppose the Mahayanists in other regions.
The relations of the Sarvâstivâdins to Mahayanism are exceedingly difficult to define and there are hardly sufficient materials for a connected account of this once important sect, but I will state some facts about it which seem certain.
The relationship between the Sarvâstivâdins and Mahayanism is very hard to pinpoint, and there’s barely enough information for a complete overview of this once significant sect. However, I will share some facts about it that seem to be certain.
It is ancient, for the Kathâvatthu alludes to its doctrines.[200] It flourished in Gandhara, Kashmir and Central Asia, and Kanishka's casket shows that he patronized it.[201] But it appears [82] to have been hardly known in Ceylon or Southern India. It was the principal northern form of Hinayanism, just as the Theravâda was the southern form. I-Ching however says that it prevailed in the Malay Archipelago.
It is ancient, as the Kathâvatthu refers to its doctrines.[200] It thrived in Gandhara, Kashmir, and Central Asia, and Kanishka's casket indicates that he supported it.[201] However, it seems [82] to have been barely recognized in Ceylon or Southern India. It was the main northern version of Hinayanism, just as the Theravâda was the southern version. I-Ching, however, states that it was common in the Malay Archipelago.
Its doctrines, so far as known, were Hinayanist but it was distinguished from cognate schools by holding that the external world can be said to exist and is not merely a continual process of becoming. It had its own version of the Abhidharma and of the Vinaya. In the time of Fa-Hsien the latter was still preserved orally and was not written. The adherents of this school were also called Vaibhâshikas, and Vibhâshâ was a name given to their exegetical literature.
Its teachings, as far as we know, were Hinayanist, but it was different from related schools because it believed that the external world actually exists and is not just a constant process of change. It had its own version of the Abhidharma and the Vinaya. During Fa-Hsien's time, the latter was still passed down orally and had not been written down. The followers of this school were also known as Vaibhâshikas, and Vibhâshâ was a term used for their commentary literature.
But the association of the Sarvâstivâdins with Mahayanists is clear from the council of Kanishka onwards. Many eminent Buddhists began by being Sarvâstivâdins and became Mahayanists, their earlier belief being regarded as preliminary rather than erroneous. Hsüan Chuang translated the Sarvâstivâdin scriptures in his old age and I-Ching belonged to the Mûlasarvâstivâdin school;[202] yet both authors write as if they were devout Mahayanists. The Tibetan Church is generally regarded as an extreme form of Mahayanism but its Vinaya is that of the Sarvâstivâdins.
But the connection between the Sarvâstivâdins and Mahayanists became clear from the time of Kanishka's council onwards. Many prominent Buddhists started as Sarvâstivâdins and later identified as Mahayanists, with their earlier beliefs seen as stepping stones rather than mistakes. Hsüan Chuang translated the Sarvâstivâdin scriptures in his later years, and I-Ching was part of the Mûlasarvâstivâdin school; [202] yet both authors wrote as if they were devoted Mahayanists. The Tibetan Church is often considered a more extreme version of Mahayanism, but its Vinaya comes from the Sarvâstivâdins.
Though the Sarvâstivâdins can hardly have accepted idealist metaphysics, yet the evidence of art and their own version of the Vinaya make it probable that they tolerated a moderate amount of mythology, and the Mahayanists, who like all philosophers were obliged to admit the provisional validity of the external world, may also have admitted their analysis of the same as provisionally valid. The strength of the Hinayanist schools lay in the Vinaya. The Mahayanists showed a tendency to replace it by legends and vague if noble aspirations. But a code of discipline was necessary for large monasteries and the code of the Sarvâstivâdins enjoyed general esteem in Central Asia and China.
Though the Sarvâstivâdins probably didn't fully embrace idealist metaphysics, the evidence from their art and their own version of the Vinaya suggests they accepted a moderate amount of mythology. The Mahayanists, like all philosophers, had to recognize the temporary reality of the external world and may have also considered their analysis of it as temporarily valid. The strength of the Hinayanist schools was in the Vinaya. The Mahayanists tended to replace it with legends and vague but noble aspirations. However, a set of rules was essential for large monasteries, and the Sarvâstivâdins' code was widely respected in Central Asia and China.
Three stages in the history of Indian Buddhism are marked by the names of Aśvaghosha, Nâgârjuna and the two brothers [83] Asanga and Vasubandhu. It would be easier to give a precise description of its development if we were sure which of the works ascribed to these worthies are authentic, but it seems that Aśvaghosha represents an ornate and transitional phase of the older schools leading to Mahayanism, whereas Nâgârjuna is connected with the Prajñâ-pâramitâ and the nihilistic philosophy described in the preceding chapter. Asanga was the founder of the later and more scholastic system called Yogâcâra and is also associated with a series of revelations said to have been made by Maitreya.
Three stages in the history of Indian Buddhism are marked by the names of Aśvaghosha, Nâgârjuna, and the two brothers [83] Asanga and Vasubandhu. It would be easier to give a precise description of its development if we were certain which of the works attributed to these figures are authentic, but it seems that Aśvaghosha represents a complex and transitional phase of the older schools leading to Mahayanism, while Nâgârjuna is linked to the Prajñâ-pâramitâ and the nihilistic philosophy discussed in the previous chapter. Asanga founded the later and more academic system known as Yogâcâra and is also associated with a series of revelations said to have been made by Maitreya.
As mentioned above, tradition makes Aśvaghosha,[203] one of the most brilliant among Sanskrit writers, live at the court of Kanishka[204] and according to some accounts he was given to the Kushans as part of a war indemnity. The tradition[205] is confirmed by the style and contents of his poems and it has been noted by Foucher that his treatment of legends is in remarkable accord with their artistic presentment in the Gandharan sculptures. Also fragmentary manuscripts of his dramas discovered in Central Asia appear to date from the Kushan epoch. Aśvaghosha's rank as a poet depends chiefly on his Buddhacarita, or life of the Buddha up to the time of his enlightenment. It is the earliest example of a Kâvya, usually translated as artificial epic, but here literary skill is subservient to the theme and does not, as too often in later works, overwhelm it. The Buddha is its hero, as Râma of the Râmâyana, and it sings the events of his earlier life in a fine flow of elaborate but impassioned language. Another of his poems,[206] discovered only a few years ago, treats of the conversion of Nanda, the Buddha's half-brother.
As mentioned earlier, tradition holds that Aśvaghosha,[203] was one of the most brilliant Sanskrit writers, living at the court of Kanishka[204] and, according to some accounts, he was given to the Kushans as part of a war indemnity. The tradition[205] is supported by the style and content of his poems, and Foucher noted that his treatment of legends aligns remarkably well with their artistic depiction in Gandharan sculptures. Additionally, fragmentary manuscripts of his plays found in Central Asia seem to date from the Kushan period. Aśvaghosha's status as a poet primarily comes from his *Buddhacarita*, or the life of the Buddha up to the point of his enlightenment. It stands as the earliest example of a Kâvya, typically translated as artificial epic, but here the literary skill serves the theme and does not, as often seen in later works, overshadow it. The Buddha is portrayed as the hero, much like Râma in the *Râmâyana*, and it recounts the events of his earlier life in a beautifully crafted yet passionate style. Another of his poems,[206] recently discovered, focuses on the conversion of Nanda, the Buddha's half-brother.
Various other works are ascribed to Aśvaghosha and for the history of Buddhism it is of great interest to decide whether he was really the author of The Awakening of Faith. This skilful exposition of a difficult theme is worthy of the writer of the Buddhacarita but other reasons make his authorship doubtful, for the theology of the work may be described as the full-blown flower of Mahayanism untainted by Tantrism. It includes the doctrines of Bhûta-tathatâ, Âlaya-vijñâna, Tathâgatagarbha and the three bodies of Buddha. It would be dangerous to say that these ideas did not exist in the time of Kanishka, but what is known of the development of doctrine leads us to expect their full expression not then but a century or two later and other circumstances raise suspicions as to Aśvaghosha's authorship. His undoubted works were translated into Chinese about 400 A.D. but The Awakening of Faith a century and a half later.[207] Yet if this concise and authoritative compendium had existed in 400, it is strange that the earlier translators neglected it. It is also stated that an old Chinese catalogue of the Tripitaka does not name Aśvaghosha as the author.[208]
Various other works are attributed to Aśvaghosha, and it's important for the history of Buddhism to determine whether he actually wrote The Awakening of Faith. This skillful explanation of a complex topic is fitting for the author of the Buddhacarita, but other factors raise doubts about his authorship. The theology in this work can be seen as the fully developed essence of Mahayanism, free from the influence of Tantrism. It discusses concepts like Bhûta-tathatâ, Âlaya-vijñâna, Tathâgatagarbha, and the three bodies of Buddha. While we can't definitively say that these ideas didn't exist during Kanishka's time, the known progression of doctrine suggests that their complete expression likely came a century or two later, and other circumstances cast doubt on Aśvaghosha's authorship. His recognized works were translated into Chinese around 400 A.D., but The Awakening of Faith appeared a century and a half later.[207] If this concise and authoritative work had been around in 400, it’s odd that the earlier translators overlooked it. Additionally, an old Chinese catalog of the Tripitaka does not list Aśvaghosha as the author.[208]
The undoubted works of Aśvaghosha treat the Buddha with ornate but grave rhetoric as the hero of an epic. His progress is attended by miracles such as Indian taste demands, but they hardly exceed the marvels recounted in the Pali scriptures and there is no sign that the hero is identified, as in the Ramayana of Tulsi Das or the Gospel according to St. John, with the divine spirit. The poet clearly feels personal devotion to a Saviour. He dwells on the duty of teaching others and not selfishly seeking one's own salvation, but he does not formulate dogmas.
The undeniable works of Aśvaghosha depict the Buddha with elaborate yet serious language, portraying him as the hero of an epic tale. His journey is marked by miracles that align with Indian tastes, but they barely surpass the wonders described in the Pali scriptures, and there's no indication that the hero is seen, like in the Ramayana by Tulsi Das or the Gospel according to St. John, as being divine. The poet clearly expresses personal devotion to a Savior. He emphasizes the importance of teaching others and not just pursuing one's own salvation selfishly, but he doesn't create specific doctrines.
The name most definitely connected with the early promulgation of Mahayanism is Nâgârjuna.[209] A preponderance of [85] Chinese tradition makes him the second patriarch after Aśvaghosha[210] and this agrees with the Kashmir chronicle which implies that he lived soon after Kanishka.[211] He probably flourished in the latter half of the second century. But his biographies extant in Chinese and Tibetan are almost wholly mythical, even crediting him with a life of several centuries, and the most that can be hoped is to extract a few grains of history from them. He is said to have been by birth a Brahman of Vidarbha (Berar) and to have had as teacher a Sudra named Saraha or Râhulabhadra. When the legend states that he visited the Nâgas in the depths of the sea and obtained books from them, it seems to admit that he preached new doctrines. It is noticeable that he is represented not only as a philosopher but as a great magician, builder, physician, and maker of images.
The name most closely associated with the early spread of Mahayanism is Nâgârjuna.[209] A significant part of [85] Chinese tradition considers him the second patriarch after Aśvaghosha[210] and this aligns with the Kashmir chronicle, which suggests he lived shortly after Kanishka.[211] He likely thrived in the latter half of the second century. However, the biographies available in Chinese and Tibetan are largely mythical, even claiming he lived for several centuries, and the best we can do is extract a few historical facts from them. He is said to have been born a Brahman from Vidarbha (Berar) and to have been taught by a Sudra named Saraha or Râhulabhadra. When the legend says he visited the Nâgas in the depths of the sea and received books from them, it seems to suggest that he introduced new teachings. It is noteworthy that he is depicted not only as a philosopher but also as a great magician, builder, physician, and image maker.
Many works are attributed to him but they have not the same authenticity as the poems of Aśvaghosha. Some schools make him the author of the Prajñâ-pâramitâ but it is more usually regarded as a revelation. The commentary on it known as Mahâ-prajñâ-pâramitâ-śâstra is generally accepted as his work. A consensus of tradition makes him the author of the Mâdhyamika[212] aphorisms of which some account has been given above. It is the principal authority of its school and is provided with a commentary attributed to the author himself and with a later one by Candrakîrti.[213] There is also ascribed to him a work called the Suhrillekha or friendly letter, a compendium of Buddhist doctrines, addressed to an Indian king.[214] This work [86] is old for it was translated into Chinese in 434 A.D. and is a homily for laymen. It says nothing of the Mâdhyamika philosophy and most of it deals with the need of good conduct and the terrors of future punishment, quite in the manner of the Hinayana. But it also commends the use of images and incense in worship, it mentions Avalokita and Amitâbha and it holds up the ideal of attaining Buddhahood. Nâgârjuna's authorship is not beyond dispute but these ideas may well represent a type of popular Buddhism slightly posterior to Aśvaghosha.[215]
Many works are credited to him, but they don't share the same authenticity as the poems of Aśvaghosha. Some schools claim he wrote the Prajñâ-pâramitâ, but it’s more commonly seen as a revelation. The commentary on it known as Mahâ-prajñâ-pâramitâ-śâstra is generally accepted as his work. Tradition largely agrees that he is the author of the Mâdhyamika[212] aphorisms, which have been mentioned earlier. This text is the main authority of its school and comes with a commentary attributed to him, along with a later one by Candrakîrti.[213] He is also associated with a work called the Suhrillekha or friendly letter, a collection of Buddhist teachings directed at an Indian king.[214] This work [86] is quite old, as it was translated into Chinese in 434 A.D. and serves as a sermon for laypeople. It doesn’t mention Mâdhyamika philosophy and primarily focuses on the importance of good behavior and the fears of future punishment, much like the Hinayana. However, it also encourages the use of images and incense in worship, mentions Avalokita and Amitâbha, and promotes the ideal of achieving Buddhahood. Although Nâgârjuna's authorship is debated, these ideas likely reflect a type of popular Buddhism that emerged slightly after Aśvaghosha.[215]
In most lists of patriarchs Nâgârjuna is followed by Deva, also called Âryadeva, Kâṇadeva or Nîlanetra. I-Ching mentions him among the older teachers and a commentary on his principal work, the Śataśâstra, is attributed to Vasubandhu.[216] Little is known of his special teaching but he is regarded as an important doctor and his pupil Dharmatrâta is also important if not as an author at least as a compiler, for Sanskrit collections of verses corresponding to the Pali Dhammapada are ascribed to him. Âryadeva was a native of southern India.[217]
In most lists of patriarchs, Nâgârjuna is followed by Deva, who is also known as Âryadeva, Kâṇadeva, or Nîlanetra. I-Ching mentions him among the earlier teachers, and a commentary on his main work, the Śataśâstra, is credited to Vasubandhu.[216] Little is known about his specific teachings, but he is considered an important scholar, and his student Dharmatrâta is also significant; if not as an author, at least as a compiler, since Sanskrit collections of verses that correspond to the Pali Dhammapada are attributed to him. Âryadeva was from southern India.[217]
The next epoch in the history of Buddhism is marked by the names of Asanga and Vasubandhu. The interval between them and Deva produced no teacher of importance, but Kumâralabdha, the founder of the Sautrântika school and perhaps identical with Kumârata the eighteenth Patriarch of the Chinese lists, may be mentioned. Hsüan Chuang says[218] that he was carried off in captivity by a king who reigned somewhere in the east of the Pamirs and that he, Aśvaghosha, Nâgârjuna and Deva were styled the four shining suns.
The next era in the history of Buddhism is defined by the figures of Asanga and Vasubandhu. The time between them and Deva didn't produce any significant teachers, but Kumâralabdha, the founder of the Sautrântika school and possibly the same as Kumârata, the eighteenth Patriarch in the Chinese lineage, is worth mentioning. Hsüan Chuang says[218] that he was taken captive by a king who ruled somewhere in the eastern part of the Pamirs, and that he, Aśvaghosha, Nâgârjuna, and Deva were referred to as the four shining suns.
Asanga and Vasubandhu were brothers, sons of a Brahman who lived at Peshawar. They were both converted from the Sarvâstivâdin school to Mahayanism, but the third brother [87]Virincivatsa never changed his convictions. Tradition connects their career with Ayodhya as well as with Peshawar and Vasubandhu enjoyed the confidence of the reigning monarch, who was probably Candragupta I. This identification depends on the hypothesis that Vasubandhu lived from about 280 to 360 A.D. which, as already mentioned, seems to me to have been proved by M. Péri.[219] The earlier Gupta kings though not Buddhists were tolerant, as is shown by the fact that the king of Ceylon[220] was allowed to erect a magnificent monastery at Nâlanda in the reign of Samudragupta (c. 330-375 A.D.).
Asanga and Vasubandhu were brothers and the sons of a Brahmin living in Peshawar. Both of them switched from the Sarvâstivâdin school to Mahayanism, but their third brother, [87]Virincivatsa, remained steadfast in his beliefs. Tradition ties their careers to both Ayodhya and Peshawar, and Vasubandhu gained the trust of the ruling monarch, likely Candragupta I. This identification is based on the theory that Vasubandhu lived from about 280 to 360 A.D., which, as noted earlier, seems to be supported by M. Péri.[219] The earlier Gupta kings, while not Buddhists, were tolerant, evident from the fact that the king of Ceylon[220] was permitted to build a grand monastery at Nâlanda during Samudragupta's reign (c. 330-375 A.D.).
Asanga founded the school known as Yogâcâra and many authorities ascribe to him the introduction of magical practices and Tantrism. But though he is a considerable figure in the history of Buddhism, I doubt if his importance or culpability is so great as this. For if tradition can be trusted, earlier teachers especially Nâgârjuna dealt in spells and invocations and the works of Asanga[221] known to us are characterized by a somewhat scholastic piety and are chiefly occupied in defining and describing the various stages in the spiritual development of a Bodhisattva. It is true that he admits the use of magical formulæ[222] as an aid in this evolution but they form only a slight part of his system and it does not appear that the Chên-yen or Shingon sect of the Far East (the Sanskrit Mantrayâna) traced its lineage back to him.
Asanga founded the school known as Yogâcâra, and many experts attribute the introduction of magical practices and Tantrism to him. However, while he is a significant figure in the history of Buddhism, I question whether his influence or blame is as substantial as is often suggested. If we can trust tradition, earlier teachers, especially Nâgârjuna, were involved in spells and invocations. The works of Asanga[221] that we know are marked by a somewhat scholarly devotion and mainly focus on defining and describing the different stages in the spiritual growth of a Bodhisattva. It's true that he acknowledges the use of magical formulas[222] as a tool in this development, but they play only a minor role in his overall system, and it doesn't seem that the Chên-yen or Shingon sect of the Far East (the Sanskrit Mantrayâna) can trace its lineage back to him.
Our estimate of his position in the history of Buddhism must depend on our opinion as to the authorship of The Awakening of Faith. If this treatise was composed by Aśvaghosha then doctrines respecting the three bodies of Buddha, the Tathâgatagarbha and the Âlaya-vijñâna were not only known but scientifically formulated considerably before Asanga. The conclusion cannot be rejected as absurd—for Aśvaghosha might speak differently in poems and in philosophical treatises—but [88] it is surprising, and it is probable that the treatise is not his. If so, Asanga may have been the first to elaborate systematically (though not to originate) the idea that thought is the one and only reality. Nâgârjuna's nihilism was probably the older theory. It sounds late and elaborate but still it follows easily if the dialectic of Gotama is applied uncompromisingly not only to our mental processes but to the external world. Yet even in India the result was felt to be fantastic and sophistical and it is not surprising if after the lapse of a few generations a new system of idealism became fashionable which, although none too intelligible, was abstruse rather than paradoxical.
Our understanding of his place in the history of Buddhism depends on our view of who wrote The Awakening of Faith. If Aśvaghosha wrote this text, then ideas about the three bodies of Buddha, the Tathâgatagarbha, and the Âlaya-vijñâna were not only known but also systematically developed long before Asanga. This conclusion isn't unreasonable—Aśvaghosha might have expressed himself differently in poetry compared to philosophical writings—but [88] it is surprising, and it seems likely that the treatise isn't his. If that's the case, Asanga might have been the first to systematically develop (though not originate) the idea that thought is the only true reality. Nâgârjuna's nihilism was probably the earlier theory. It sounds complex and late, yet it makes sense if you apply Gotama's dialectic rigorously not just to our thoughts but also to the external world. Still, even in India, the outcome felt outlandish and overly complex, so it's not surprising that after a few generations, a new form of idealism became popular, which, while not entirely clear, was more obscure than paradoxical.
Asanga was alleged to have received revelations from Maitreya and five of his works are attributed to this Bodhisattva who enjoyed considerable honour at this period. It may be that the veneration for the Buddha of the future, the Messiah who would reign over his saints in a pure land, owed something to Persian influence which was strong in India during the decadence of the Kushans.[223] Both Mithraism and Manichæism classified their adepts in various ranks, and the Yogâcâra doctors who delight in grading the progress of the Bodhisattva may have borrowed something from them.[224] Asanga's doctrine of defilement (kleśa) and purification may also owe something to Mani, as suggested by S. Lévi.
Asanga was said to have received insights from Maitreya, and five of his works are linked to this Bodhisattva, who was highly respected during this time. The reverence for the future Buddha, the Messiah who would lead his followers in a pure land, might have been influenced by Persian culture, which was prominent in India during the decline of the Kushans.[223] Both Mithraism and Manichaeism organized their followers into different ranks, and the Yogācāra scholars, who take pleasure in evaluating the progress of the Bodhisattva, may have drawn inspiration from them.[224] Asanga's teachings on defilement (kleśa) and purification could also have been influenced by Mani, as indicated by S. Lévi.
In spite of his literary merits Asanga remains a doctor rather than a saint or poet.[225] His speculations have little to do with either Gotama or Amitâbha and he was thus not in living touch with either the old or new schools. His brother Vasubandhu had perhaps a greater position. He is reckoned as the twentieth Patriarch and Tibetan tradition connects him with the worship of Amitâbha.[226]
In spite of his literary achievements, Asanga is considered more of a doctor than a saint or poet.[225] His theories have little to do with either Gotama or Amitâbha, so he wasn’t really connected to either the old or new schools. His brother Vasubandhu may hold a higher status. He’s recognized as the twentieth Patriarch, and Tibetan tradition links him to the worship of Amitâbha.[226]
Paramârtha's life of Vasubandhu represents him as having frequented the court of Vikramâditya (to be identified with Candragupta I), who at first favoured the Sânkhya philosophy [89] but accorded some patronage to Buddhism. During this period Vasubandhu was a Sarvâstivâdin but of liberal views[227] and while in this phase wrote the Abhidharma-kośa, a general exposition of the Abhidharma, mainly according to the views of the Vaibhâshikas but not without criticism. This celebrated work is not well known in Europe[228] but is still a text-book amongst Japanese Buddhist students. It gained the esteem of all schools and we are given to understand that it presupposed the philosophy of the Vibhâshâ and of the Jñâna-prasthâna. According to Paramârtha the original work consisted of 600 aphorisms in verse which were sent by the author to the monks of Kashmir. They approved of the composition but, as the aphorisms were concise, asked for fuller explanations. Vasubandhu then expanded his verses into a prose commentary, but meanwhile his views had undergone a change and when he disapproved of any Vaibhâshika doctrine, he criticized it. This enlarged edition by no means pleased the brethren of Kashmir and called forth polemics. He also wrote a controversial work against the Sânkhya philosophy.
Paramârtha's account of Vasubandhu depicts him as a regular visitor to the court of Vikramâditya (identified with Candragupta I), who initially supported the Sânkhya philosophy but also provided some support to Buddhism. At this time, Vasubandhu was a Sarvâstivâdin but held liberal views and during this period he wrote the Abhidharma-kośa, a general overview of the Abhidharma, mainly reflecting the beliefs of the Vaibhâshikas but mixed with some critiques. This well-known work is not widely recognized in Europe but remains a textbook among Japanese Buddhist students. It was respected by all schools and is said to have built upon the philosophy of the Vibhâshâ and the Jñâna-prasthâna. According to Paramârtha, the original work contained 600 aphorisms in verse that the author sent to the monks of Kashmir. They approved of the work, but since the aphorisms were concise, they requested more detailed explanations. Vasubandhu then expanded his verses into a prose commentary, but during this process, his views changed, and he criticized any Vaibhâshika doctrine he disagreed with. This expanded edition did not please the monks of Kashmir and led to debates. He also wrote a critical work against the Sânkhya philosophy.
Late in life Vasubandhu, moved by the entreaties of his brother Asanga, became a devout Mahayanist and wrote in his old age Mahayanist treatises and commentaries.[229]
Late in life, Vasubandhu, influenced by his brother Asanga's pleas, became a committed Mahayanist and wrote Mahayanist treatises and commentaries in his later years.[229]
FOOTNOTES:
[187] The uncertainty as to the date of Kanishka naturally makes it uncertain whether he was the hero of these conquests. Kashmir was certainly included in the dominions of the Kushans and was a favourite residence of Kanishka. About 90 A.D. a Kushan king attacked Central Asia but was repulsed by the Chinese general Pan-Ch'ao. Later, after the death of Pan-Ch'ao (perhaps about 103 A.D.), he renewed the attempt and conquered Kashgar, Yarkand and Khotan. See Vincent Smith, Early History of India, 3rd ed. pp. 253 ff.
[187] The uncertainty about the date of Kanishka makes it unclear whether he was the one behind these conquests. Kashmir was definitely part of the Kushan Empire and was one of Kanishka's favorite places to live. Around 90 A.D., a Kushan king launched an attack on Central Asia but was defeated by the Chinese general Pan-Ch'ao. Later, after Pan-Ch'ao's death (possibly around 103 A.D.), he tried again and successfully conquered Kashgar, Yarkand, and Khotan. See Vincent Smith, Early History of India, 3rd ed. pp. 253 ff.
[188] See Fa-Hsien, ed. Legge, p. 33, B.E.F.E.O. 1903 (Sung Yün), pp. 420 ff. Watters, Yüan Chwang, I. pp. 204 ff. J.R.A.S. 1909, p. 1056, 1912, p. 114. For the general structure of these stûpas see Foucher, L'art Gréco-Bouddhique du Gandhara, pp. 45 ff.
[188] See Fa-Hsien, ed. Legge, p. 33, B.E.F.E.O. 1903 (Sung Yün), pp. 420 ff. Watters, Yüan Chwang, I. pp. 204 ff. J.R.A.S. 1909, p. 1056, 1912, p. 114. For the general structure of these stupas see Foucher, L'art Gréco-Bouddhique du Gandhara, pp. 45 ff.
[191] Watters, vol. I. p. 203. He places Kanishka's accession 400 years after the death of the Buddha, which is one of the arguments for supposing Kanishka to have reigned about 50 B.C., but in another passage (Watters, I. 222, 224) he appears to place it 500 years after the death.
[191] Watters, vol. I. p. 203. He indicates that Kanishka came to power 400 years after the Buddha's death, which is one of the reasons for suggesting that Kanishka ruled around 50 B.C. However, in another section (Watters, I. 222, 224), he seems to place it 500 years after the death.
[192] Watters, vol. I. 270-1.
[194] Walters, l.c.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Walters, l.c.
[195] Translated by Takakusu in T'oung Pao, 1904, pp. 269 ff. Paramârtha was a native of Ujjain who arrived at Nanking in 548 and made many translations, but it is quite possible that this life of Vasubandhu is not a translation but original notes of his own.
[195] Translated by Takakusu in T'oung Pao, 1904, pp. 269 ff. Paramârtha was from Ujjain and came to Nanking in 548, where he made many translations. However, it's very likely that this account of Vasubandhu is not a translation but rather his own original notes.
[196] Chinese expressions like "in the five hundred years after the Buddha's death" probably mean the period 400-500 of the era commencing with the Buddha's death and not the period 500-600. The period 1-100 is "the one hundred years," 101-200 "the two hundred years" and so on. See B.E.F.E.O. 1911, 356. But it must be remembered that the date of the Buddha's death is not yet certain. The latest theory (Vincent Smith, 1919) places it in 554 B.C.
[196] Chinese phrases like "in the five hundred years after the Buddha's death" likely refer to the period from 400 to 500 of the era starting with the Buddha's death, not from 500 to 600. The period from 1 to 100 is called "the one hundred years," from 101 to 200 is "the two hundred years," and so on. See B.E.F.E.O. 1911, 356. However, it's important to remember that the exact date of the Buddha's death is still uncertain. The most recent theory (Vincent Smith, 1919) places it in 554 B.C.
[197] Chap. XII.
[198] See Watters, I. pp. 222, 224 and 270. It is worth noting that Hsüan Chuang says Asoka lived one hundred years after the Buddha's death. See Watters, I. p. 267. See also the note of S. Lévi in J.R.A.S. 1914, pp. 1016-1019, citing traditions to the effect that there were 300 years between Upagupta, the teacher of Asoka, and Kanishka, who is thus made to reign about 31 A.D. On the other hand Kanishka's chaplain Sangharaksha is said to have lived 700 years after the Buddha.
[198] See Watters, I. pp. 222, 224 and 270. It's interesting to note that Hsüan Chuang states Asoka lived a hundred years after the Buddha's death. See Watters, I. p. 267. Also, see S. Lévi's note in J.R.A.S. 1914, pp. 1016-1019, which mentions traditions suggesting there were 300 years between Upagupta, who was Asoka's teacher, and Kanishka, who is believed to have reigned around 31 A.D. Conversely, Kanishka's chaplain Sangharaksha is said to have lived 700 years after the Buddha.
[201] Its connection with Gandhara and Kashmir is plainly indicated in its own scriptures. See Przyluski's article on "Le Nord-Ouest de l'Inde dans le Vinaya des Mûla-sarvâstivâdins," J.A. 1914, II. pp. 493 ft. This Vinaya must have received considerable additions as time went on and in its present form is posterior to Kanishka.
[201] Its link to Gandhara and Kashmir is clearly shown in its own texts. Check out Przyluski's article on "The Northwestern Region of India in the Vinaya of the Mûla-sarvâstivâdins," J.A. 1914, II. pp. 493 ft. This Vinaya must have had significant additions over time and in its current version comes after Kanishka.
[202] The distinction between Sarvâstivâdin and Mûlasarvâstivâdin is not clear to me. I can only suggest that when a section of the school accepted the Mahâvibhâshâ and were known as Vaibhâshikas others who approved of the school chiefly on account of its excellent Vinaya called themselves Primitive Sarvâstivâdins.
[202] I’m not really clear on the difference between Sarvâstivâdin and Mûlasarvâstivâdin. All I can say is that a part of the school accepted the Mahâvibhâshâ and called themselves Vaibhâshikas, while others who valued the school mainly for its strong Vinaya referred to themselves as Primitive Sarvâstivâdins.
[204] The only reason for doubting it is that two stories (Nos. 14 and 31) in the Sûtrâlankâra (which appears to be a genuine work) refer to Kanishka as if he had reigned in the past. This may be a poetic artifice or it may be that the stories are interpolations. See for the traditions Watters on Yüan Chwang, II. 102-4 and Takakusu in J.R.A.S. 1905, p. 53 who quotes the Chinese Samyukta-ratna-piṭaka-sûtra and the Record of Indian Patriarchs. The Chinese list of Patriarchs is compatible with the view that Aśvaghosha was alive about 125 A.D. for he was the twelfth Patriarch and Bodhidharma the twenty-eighth visited China in 520. This gives about 400 years for sixteen Patriarchs, which is possible, for these worthies were long-lived. But the list has little authority.
[204] The only reason to doubt this is that two stories (Nos. 14 and 31) in the Sûtrâlankâra (which seems to be a genuine work) mention Kanishka as if he ruled in the past. This could be a literary device or it might be that the stories were added later. For the traditions, see Watters on Yüan Chwang, II. 102-4 and Takakusu in J.R.A.S. 1905, p. 53, who cites the Chinese Samyukta-ratna-piṭaka-sûtra and the Record of Indian Patriarchs. The Chinese list of Patriarchs supports the idea that Aśvaghosha was alive around 125 A.D., as he was the twelfth Patriarch, while Bodhidharma, the twenty-eighth, arrived in China in 520. This gives roughly 400 years for sixteen Patriarchs, which is plausible since these figures were known for their longevity. However, the list lacks substantial authority.
[206] The Saundarânandakâvya.
The Saundarânandakâvya.
[207] See Nanjio, Nos. 1182, 1351, 1250, 1299. It is noticeable that the translator Paramârtha shows a special interest in the life and works of Asanga and Vasubandhu.
[207] See Nanjio, Nos. 1182, 1351, 1250, 1299. It's clear that the translator Paramârtha has a particular interest in the lives and works of Asanga and Vasubandhu.
[208] See Winternitz, Ges. Ind. Lit. II. i. p. 211. It is also noticeable that The Awakening of Faith appears to quote the Lankâvatâra sûtra which is not generally regarded as an early Mahayanist work.
[208] See Winternitz, Ges. Ind. Lit. II. i. p. 211. It's also interesting to note that The Awakening of Faith seems to quote the Lankâvatâra sutra, which isn't typically considered an early Mahayanist text.
[209] Nâgârjuna cannot have been the founder of the Mahayana for in his Mahâ-prajñâ-pâramitâ-śâstra (Nanjio, 1169, translation by Kumârajiva) he cites inter alia the Lotus, the Vimalakirti-sûtra, and a work called Mahâyâna-śâstra. See B.E.F.E.O. 1911, p. 453. For Nâgârjuna see especially Grünwedel, Mythologie, pp. 29 ff. and the bibliography given in the notes. Jour. Budd. Text. Soc. V. part iv. pp. 7 ff. Watters, Yüan Chwang, pp. 200 ff. Târanâtha, chap. XV and Winternitz, Ges. Ind. Lit. II. i. pp. 250 ff.
[209] Nâgârjuna couldn't have been the founder of Mahayana because in his Mahâ-prajñâ-pâramitâ-śâstra (Nanjio, 1169, translation by Kumârajiva), he references among other texts the Lotus, the Vimalakirti-sûtra, and a work called Mahâyâna-śâstra. See B.E.F.E.O. 1911, p. 453. For Nâgârjuna, see especially Grünwedel, Mythologie, pp. 29 ff. and the bibliography provided in the notes. Jour. Budd. Text. Soc. V. part iv. pp. 7 ff. Watters, Yüan Chwang, pp. 200 ff. Târanâtha, chap. XV and Winternitz, Ges. Ind. Lit. II. i. pp. 250 ff.
[210] He is omitted from the list of Buddhabhadra, giving the succession according to the Sarvâstivâdins, to which school he did not belong. I-Ching classes him with Aśvaghosha and Aryadeva as belonging to the early period.
[210] He is not included in the list of Buddhabhadra, which outlines the succession according to the Sarvâstivâdins, a school he was not part of. I-Ching categorizes him alongside Aśvaghosha and Aryadeva, placing him in the early period.
[211] Râjataranginî, i. 173, 177.
[212] Edited in the Bibliotheca Buddhica by De la Vallée Poussin and (in part) in the Journal of the Buddhist Text Soc. See too Walleser, Die Mittlere Lehre des Nâgârjuna nach der Tibetischen Version übertragen, 1911: nach der Chinesischen Version übertragen, 1912.
[212] Edited in the Bibliotheca Buddhica by De la Vallée Poussin and (in part) in the Journal of the Buddhist Text Soc. Also see Walleser, Die Mittlere Lehre des Nâgârjuna nach der Tibetischen Version übertragen, 1911: nach der Chinesischen Version übertragen, 1912.
[213] The ascription of these works to Nâgârjuna is probably correct for they were translated by Kumârajîva who was sufficiently near him in date to be in touch with good tradition.
[213] The attribution of these works to Nâgârjuna is likely accurate because they were translated by Kumârajîva, who lived close enough in time to be connected to reputable traditions.
[214] The name of this king, variously given as Udayana, Jetaka and Śâtavâhana, has not been identified with certainty from the various transcriptions and translations in the Chinese and Tibetan versions. See J. Pali Text Soc. for 1886 and I-Ching Records of the Buddhist Religion (trans. Takakusu), pp. 158 ff. The Andhra kings who reigned from about 240 B.C. to 225 A.D. all claimed to belong to the Śâtavâhana dynasty. The stupa of Amarâvati in the Andhra territory is surrounded by a stone railing ascribed to the period 160-200 A.D. and Nâgârjuna may have addressed a pious king living about that time.
[214] The name of this king, referred to as Udayana, Jetaka, and Śâtavâhana, has not been definitively identified given the various transcriptions and translations in the Chinese and Tibetan versions. See J. Pali Text Soc. for 1886 and I-Ching Records of the Buddhist Religion (trans. Takakusu), pp. 158 ff. The Andhra kings who ruled from about 240 B.C. to 225 A.D. all claimed to be part of the Śâtavâhana dynasty. The stupa at Amarâvati in the Andhra region is surrounded by a stone railing dated to the period of 160-200 A.D., and Nâgârjuna may have addressed a devout king living around that time.
[215] For other works attributed to Nâgârjuna see Nanjio, Nos. 1169, 1179, 1180, 1186 and Walleser's introduction to Mittlere Lehre nach der Chinesischen Version The Dharmasangraha, a Sanskrit theological glossary, is also attributed to Nâgârjuna as well as the tantric work Pancakrama. But it is not likely that the latter dates from his epoch.
[215] For other works credited to Nâgârjuna, see Nanjio, Nos. 1169, 1179, 1180, 1186, and Walleser's introduction to Mittlere Lehre nach der Chinesischen Version. The Dharmasangraha, a Sanskrit theological glossary, is also attributed to Nâgârjuna, along with the tantric work Pancakrama. However, it’s unlikely that the latter originated during his time.
[216] Nanjio, No. 1188.
[217] The very confused legends about him suggest a comparison with the Dravidian legend of a devotee who tore out one of his eyes and offered it to Śiva. See Grünwedel, Mythologie, p. 34 and notes. Polemics against various Hinayanist sects are ascribed to him. See Nanjio, Nos. 1259, 1260.
[217] The unclear stories about him draw parallels with the Dravidian tale of a devotee who plucked out one of his eyes and gave it to Śiva. See Grünwedel, Mythology, p. 34 and notes. Debates against different Hinayanist sects are attributed to him. See Nanjio, Nos. 1259, 1260.
[218] Watters, Yüan Chwang, II. p. 286. Hsüan Chuang does not say that the four were contemporary but that in the time of Kumâralabdha they were called the four Suns.
[218] Watters, Yüan Chwang, II. p. 286. Hsüan Chuang doesn’t claim that the four lived at the same time, but rather that during Kumâralabdha's era, they were referred to as the four Suns.
[219] For Asanga and Vasubandhu see Péri in B.E.F.E.O. 1911, pp. 339-390. Vincent Smith in Early History of India, third edition, pp. 328-334. Winternitz, Ges. Ind. Lit. II. i. p. 256. Watters, Yüan Chwang, I. pp. 210, 355-359. Taranâtha, chap. XXII. Grünwedel, Mythologie, p. 35.
[219] For Asanga and Vasubandhu, see Péri in B.E.F.E.O. 1911, pp. 339-390. Vincent Smith in Early History of India, third edition, pp. 328-334. Winternitz, Ges. Ind. Lit. II. i. p. 256. Watters, Yüan Chwang, I. pp. 210, 355-359. Taranâtha, chap. XXII. Grünwedel, Mythologie, p. 35.
[220] Meghavarman. See V. Smith, l.c. 287.
[221] Two have been preserved in Sanskrit: the Mahâyâna-sûtrâlankâra (Ed. V. Transl., S. Lévi, 1907-1911) and the Bodhisattva-bhûmi (English summary in Muséon, 1905-6). A brief analysis of the literature of the Yogâcâra school according to Tibetan authorities is given by Stcherbatskoi in Muséon, 1905, pp. 144-155.
[221] Two texts have been preserved in Sanskrit: the Mahâyâna-sûtrâlankâra (Edited by V. Transl., S. Lévi, 1907-1911) and the Bodhisattva-bhûmi (English summary in Muséon, 1905-6). Stcherbatskoi provides a brief analysis of the literature of the Yogâcâra school based on Tibetan sources in Muséon, 1905, pp. 144-155.
[223] Vincent Smith, l.c. p. 275.
[224] But there are of course abundant Indian precedents, Brahmanical as well as Buddhist, for describing various degrees of sanctity or knowledge.
[224] But there are definitely plenty of Indian examples, both from Brahmanical and Buddhist traditions, for describing different levels of holiness or understanding.
[225] The wooden statues of Asanga and Vasubandhu preserved in the Kōfukaji at Nara are masterpieces of art but can hardly claim to be other than works of imagination. They date from about 800 A.D. See for an excellent reproduction Tajima's Select Relics, II. x.
[225] The wooden statues of Asanga and Vasubandhu found in the Kōfukaji at Nara are incredible works of art, but they can hardly be considered anything more than creations of imagination. They were made around 800 A.D. For a great reproduction, check out Tajima's Select Relics, II. x.
[226] See Eitel and Grünwedel, but I do not know in what texts this tradition is found. It is remarkable that Paramârtha's life (T'oung Pao, 1904, pp. 269-296) does not say either that he was twentieth patriarch or that he worshipped Amida.
[226] See Eitel and Grünwedel, but I'm not sure in which texts this tradition appears. It's interesting that Paramârtha's life (T'oung Pao, 1904, pp. 269-296) doesn't mention that he was the twentieth patriarch or that he worshipped Amida.
[228] The work consists of 600 verses (Kârikâ) with a lengthy prose commentary (Bhâshya) by the author. The Sanskrit original is lost but translations have been preserved in Chinese (Nanjio, Nos. 1267, 1269, 1270) and Tibetan (see Cordier, Cat. du Fonds tibétain de la Bib. Nat. 1914, pp. 394, 499). But the commentary on the Bhâshya called Abhidharma-kośa-vyâkhyâ, or Sphuṭârtha, by Yásomitra has been preserved in Sanskrit in Nepal and frequently cites the verses as well as the Bhâshya in the original Sanskrit. A number of European savants are at present occupied with this literature and Sir Denison Ross (to whom I am indebted for much information) contemplates the publication of an Uigur text of Book I found in Central Asia. At present (1920), so far as I know, the only portion of the Abhidharma-kośa in print is De la Vallée Poussin's edition and translation of Book III, containing the Tibetan and Sanskrit texts but not the Chinese (De la Vallée Poussin—Vasubandhu et Yaśomitra, London, 1914-18). This chapter deals with such topics as the structure of the universe, the manner and place of rebirth, the chain of causation, the geography of the world, the duration and characteristics of Kalpas, and the appearance of Buddhas and Cakravartins.
[228] The work includes 600 verses (Kârikâ) along with a detailed prose commentary (Bhâshya) by the author. The original Sanskrit text is lost, but translations are available in Chinese (Nanjio, Nos. 1267, 1269, 1270) and Tibetan (see Cordier, Cat. du Fonds tibétain de la Bib. Nat. 1914, pp. 394, 499). However, the commentary on the Bhâshya called Abhidharma-kośa-vyâkhyâ, or Sphuṭārtha, by Yásomitra has survived in Sanskrit in Nepal and often references both the verses and the original Sanskrit Bhâshya. Several European scholars are currently working on this literature, and Sir Denison Ross (to whom I owe much information) plans to publish a Uigur text of Book I discovered in Central Asia. As of now (1920), to my knowledge, the only printed portion of the Abhidharma-kośa is De la Vallée Poussin's edition and translation of Book III, which includes the Tibetan and Sanskrit texts but not the Chinese (De la Vallée Poussin—Vasubandhu et Yaśomitra, London, 1914-18). This chapter covers topics such as the structure of the universe, the process and location of rebirth, the chain of causation, the geography of the world, the length and characteristics of Kalpas, and the emergence of Buddhas and Cakravartins.
[229] See Nanjio, pp. 371-2, for a list of his works translated into Chinese. Hsüan Chuang's account differs from the above (which is taken from Paramârtha) in details. He also tells a curious story that Vasubandhu promised to appear to his friends after death and ultimately did so, though he forgot his promise until people began to say he had gone to hell.
[229] See Nanjio, pp. 371-2, for a list of his works translated into Chinese. Hsüan Chuang's version differs from the one above (which is taken from Paramârtha) in some details. He also shares an interesting story about how Vasubandhu promised to show himself to his friends after he died and eventually did, but he forgot about his promise until people started saying he had gone to hell.
CHAPTER XXIII
INDIAN BUDDHISM AS SEEN BY THE CHINESE PILGRIMS
About the time of Vasubandhu there existed four schools of Indian Buddhism called Vaibhâshika, Sautrântika, Mâdhyamika and Yoga or Yogâcâra.[230] They were specially concerned with philosophy and apparently cut across the older division into eighteen sects, which at this period seem to have differed mainly on points of discipline. Though not of great practical importance, they long continued to play a certain part in controversial works both Buddhist and Brahmanic. The first two which were the older seem to have belonged to the Hinayana and the other two even more definitely to the Mahayana. I-Ching[231] is quite clear as to this. "There are but two kinds of the so-called Mahayana" he says, "first the Mâdhyamika, second the Yoga.... These two systems are perfectly in accordance with the noble doctrine. Can we say which of the two is right? Both equally conform to truth and lead us to Nirvana" and so on. But he does not say that the other two systems are also aspects of the truth. This is the more remarkable because he himself followed the Mûla-sarvâstivâdins. Apparently Sarvâstivâdin and Vaibhâshika were different names for the same school, the latter being applied to them because they identified themselves with the commentary (Vibhâshâ) already mentioned whereas the former and older designation came to be used chiefly with reference to their disciplinary rules. Also there were two groups of Sarvâstivâdins, those of Gandhara and those of Kashmir. The name of Vaibhâshika was applied chiefly to the latter who, if we may find a kernel of truth in legends which are certainly exaggerated, endeavoured to make Kashmir a holy land with a monopoly of the pure doctrine. Vasubandhu and Asanga appear to have broken up this isolation for they first preached [91] the Vaibhâshika doctrines in a liberal and eclectic form outside Kashmir and then by a natural transition and development went over to the Mahayana. But the Vaibhâshikas did not disappear and were in existence even in the fourteenth century.[232] Their chief tenet was the real existence of external objects. In matters of doctrine they regarded their own Abhidharma as the highest authority.[233] They also held that Gotama had an ordinary human body and passed first into a preliminary form of Nirvana when he attained Buddhahood and secondly into complete Nirvana at his death. He was superhuman only in the sense that he had intuitive knowledge and no need to learn. Their contempt for sutras may have been due to the fact that many of them discountenance the Vaibhâshika views and also to a knowledge that new ones were continually being composed.
Around the time of Vasubandhu, there were four schools of Indian Buddhism: Vaibhâshika, Sautrântika, Mâdhyamika, and Yoga or Yogâcâra.[230] They focused mainly on philosophy and seemed to cut across the older division into eighteen sects, which at that time mostly differed on disciplinary matters. While their practical significance was limited, they still played a role in various controversial writings, both Buddhist and Brahmanic. The first two schools, the older ones, belonged to the Hinayana tradition, while the latter two were more clearly affiliated with the Mahayana. I-Ching[231] explicitly states this. "There are only two types of the so-called Mahayana," he says, "first the Mâdhyamika, second the Yoga…. These two systems perfectly align with the noble doctrine. Can we determine which one is correct? Both equally adhere to truth and guide us to Nirvana," and so forth. However, he doesn’t claim that the other two systems also represent aspects of the truth. This is interesting because he himself followed the Mûla-sarvâstivâdins. Apparently, Sarvâstivâdin and Vaibhâshika were different names for the same school, with the latter name stemming from their association with the commentary (Vibhâshâ) mentioned earlier, while the former, older name was primarily used in relation to their disciplinary rules. There were also two groups of Sarvâstivâdins: those from Gandhara and those from Kashmir. The name Vaibhâshika was mainly used for the latter group, who, if we believe certain legends—though likely embellished—sought to make Kashmir a holy land with exclusive access to the pure doctrine. Vasubandhu and Asanga seem to have disrupted this isolation, as they first preached the Vaibhâshika doctrines in a more open and eclectic manner outside of Kashmir and then naturally evolved into the Mahayana. But the Vaibhâshikas did not vanish; they continued to exist even into the fourteenth century.[232] Their main belief was in the real existence of external objects. In terms of doctrine, they considered their own Abhidharma to be the highest authority.[233] They also believed that Gotama had an ordinary human body and first entered a preliminary form of Nirvana upon attaining Buddhahood and then reached complete Nirvana at his death. He was superhuman only in that he possessed intuitive knowledge and did not require learning. Their disdain for sutras may have stemmed from many of them contradicting the Vaibhâshika views, as well as their awareness that new sutras were continually being created.
I-Ching, who ends his work by asserting that all his statements are according to the Ârya-mûla-sarvâstivâda-nikâya and no other, gives an interesting summary of doctrine.
I-Ching, who finishes his work by stating that all his claims are based on the Ârya-mûla-sarvâstivâda-nikâya and nothing else, provides an intriguing summary of the doctrine.
"Again I say: the most important are only one or two out of eighty thousand doctrines of the Buddha: one should conform to the worldly path but inwardly strive to secure true wisdom. Now what is the worldly path? It is obeying prohibitive laws and avoiding any crime. What is the true wisdom? It is to obliterate the distinction between subject and object, to follow the excellent truth and to free oneself from worldly attachments: to do away with the trammels of the chain of causality: further to obtain merit by accumulating good works and finally to realize the excellent meaning of perfect reality."
"Once again, I say that only one or two of the eighty thousand teachings of the Buddha are truly important: you should follow the worldly path but internally work towards gaining true wisdom. So, what is the worldly path? It's about following the rules and avoiding any wrongdoing. And what is true wisdom? It's about eliminating the separation between the subject and the object, pursuing the ultimate truth, and freeing yourself from worldly attachments: breaking the chains of cause and effect; furthermore, earning merit by doing good deeds and ultimately realizing the profound meaning of perfect reality."
Such a statement enables us to understand the remark which he makes elsewhere that the same school may belong to the Hinayana and Mahayana in different places, for, whatever may be meant by wisdom which aims at obliterating the difference between subject and object, it is clearly not out of sympathy with Yogâcâra doctrines. In another place where he describes the curriculum followed by monks he says that they learn the Yogâcârya-śâstra first and then eight compositions of Asanga and Vasubandhu. Among the works prescribed for logic is the Nyâyadvâra-śâstra attributed to Nâgârjuna. The monk [92] should learn not only the Abhidharma of the Sarvâstivâdins but also the Âgamas, equivalent to the Sûtra-piṭaka. So the study of the sûtras and the works of Asanga and Vasubandhu is approved by a Sarvâstivâdin.
Such a statement helps us understand his comment elsewhere that the same school can be part of both Hinayana and Mahayana in different locations. No matter what is meant by wisdom that seeks to erase the boundary between subject and object, it is clearly aligned with Yogâcâra teachings. In another section, when he outlines the curriculum for monks, he mentions that they first study the Yogâcârya-śâstra and then the eight works of Asanga and Vasubandhu. Among the texts required for logic is the Nyâyadvâra-śâstra, which is attributed to Nâgârjuna. The monk [92] should learn not only the Abhidharma of the Sarvâstivâdins but also the Âgamas, equivalent to the Sûtra-piṭaka. Therefore, the study of the sûtras and the writings of Asanga and Vasubandhu is endorsed by a Sarvâstivâdin.
The Sautrântikas,[234] though accounted Hinayanists, mark a step in the direction of the Mahayana. The founder of the school was Kumarâlabdha, mentioned above. In their estimation of scripture they reversed the views of the Vaibhâshikas, for they rejected the Abhidharma and accepted only the sûtras, arguing that the Abhidharma was practically an extract from them. As literary criticism this is correct, if it means that the more ancient sûtras are older than the oldest Abhidharma books. But the indiscriminate acceptance of sûtras led to a creed in which the supernatural played a larger part. The Sautrântikas not only ascribed superhuman powers to the Buddha, but believed in the doctrine of three bodies. In philosophy, though they were realists, they held that external objects are not perceived directly but that their existence is inferred.[235]
The Sautrântikas,[234] while considered Hinayanists, represent a shift towards the Mahayana. The school was founded by Kumarâlabdha, as mentioned earlier. In their approach to scripture, they opposed the views of the Vaibhâshikas by rejecting the Abhidharma and accepting only the sûtras, arguing that the Abhidharma was essentially just a summary of the sûtras. This argument holds up as literary criticism if it suggests that the older sûtras predate the earliest Abhidharma texts. However, their uncritical acceptance of sûtras led to a belief system where the supernatural played a bigger role. The Sautrântikas not only attributed superhuman powers to the Buddha but also embraced the concept of three bodies. Philosophically, although they were realists, they maintained that we do not perceive external objects directly; instead, we infer their existence.[235]
Something has already been said of the two other schools, both of which denied the reality of the external world. The differences between them were concerned with metaphysics rather than theology and led to no popular controversies.
Something has already been said about the two other schools, both of which rejected the reality of the external world. The differences between them were focused on metaphysics rather than theology and didn’t spark any major public debates.
Up to this point the history of Indian Buddhism has proved singularly nebulous. The most important dates are a matter of argument, the chief personages half mythical. But when the records of the Chinese pilgrims commence we are in touch with something more solid. They record dates and facts, though we must regret that they only repeat what they heard and make no attempt to criticize Indian traditions or even to weave them into a connected chronicle.
Up to this point, the history of Indian Buddhism has been quite unclear. The key dates are debatable, and the main figures are often legendary. However, when the records of the Chinese pilgrims begin, we can grasp something more substantial. They note dates and facts, although we wish they had gone beyond merely sharing what they were told and had made an effort to critique Indian traditions or even to piece them together into a coherent narrative.
Fa-Hsien, the first of these interesting men, left China in 399 and resided in India from 405 to 411, spending three years at Pataliputra and two at Tamralipti. He visited the Panjab, Hindustan and Bengal and his narrative leaves the impression that all these were in the main Buddhist countries: of the Deccan which he did not visit he heard that its inhabitants were barbarous and not Buddhists, though it contained some [93] Buddhist shrines. Of the Middle Kingdom (which according to his reckoning begins with Muttra) he says that the people are free and happy and neither kill any living creature nor drink intoxicating liquor.[236] He does not hint at persecution though he once or twice mentions that the Brahmans were jealous of the Buddhists. Neither does he indicate that any strong animosity prevailed between Maha and Hinayanists. But the two parties were distinct and he notes which prevailed in each locality. He left China by land and found the Hinayana prevalent at Shen-shen and Wu-i (apparently localities not far from Lob-Nor) but the Mahayana at Khotan. Nearer India, in countries apparently corresponding to parts of Kashmir and Gilgit, the monks were numerous and all Hinayanist. The same was the case in Udyana, and in Gandhara the Hinayanists were still in the majority. In the Panjab both schools were prevalent but the Hinayana evidently strong. In the district of Muttra the Law was still more flourishing, monasteries and topes were numerous and ample alms were given to the monks. He states that the professors of the Abhidharma and Vinaya made offerings to those works, and the Mahayanists to the book Prajñâ-pâramitâ, as well as to Mañjuśrî and Kwan-shih-yin. He found the country in which are the sacred sites of Śrâvasti, Kapilavastu and Kusinârâ sparsely inhabited and desolate, but this seems to have been due to general causes, not specially to the decay of religion. He mentions that ninety-six[237] varieties of erroneous views are found among the Buddhists, which points to the existence of numerous but not acutely hostile sects and says that there still existed, apparently in Kośala, followers of Devadatta who recognized three previous Buddhas but not Śâkyamuni. He visited the birth-places of these three Buddhas which contained topes erected in their honour.
Fa-Hsien, the first of these fascinating individuals, left China in 399 and lived in India from 405 to 411, spending three years in Pataliputra and two in Tamralipti. He traveled through Punjab, Hindustan, and Bengal, and his account suggests that these regions were primarily Buddhist countries. He heard that the Deccan, which he did not visit, had people who were uncivilized and not Buddhists, even though it had some [93] Buddhist shrines. Regarding the Middle Kingdom (which he considers to start with Muttra), he notes that the people are free and happy, and they neither kill living creatures nor consume alcohol.[236] He doesn't mention any persecution, although he does indicate that the Brahmins were envious of the Buddhists. He also doesn’t suggest that there was significant hostility between Mahayana and Hinayana followers. However, he observes that the two groups were distinct and notes which one was dominant in each area. He left China overland and found Hinayana Buddhism prevalent in Shen-shen and Wu-i (likely areas near Lob-Nor), but Mahayana Buddhism was more common in Khotan. Closer to India, in areas that seem to relate to parts of Kashmir and Gilgit, numerous monks followed Hinayana. The same situation existed in Udyana, and in Gandhara, Hinayana followers were still the majority. In Punjab, both schools were present, but Hinayana was clearly stronger. In the Muttra district, Buddhism was thriving, with many monasteries and stupas, and generous donations were made to the monks. He notes that teachers of the Abhidharma and Vinaya made offerings to those texts, while Mahayanists offered to the book Prajñâ-pâramitâ, as well as to Mañjuśrî and Kwan-shih-yin. He found the regions of the sacred sites of Śrāvastī, Kapilavastu, and Kuśinārā to be sparsely populated and desolate, but this seemed to be due to general factors rather than a specific decline in religion. He mentions that there are ninety-six[237] different erroneous views among Buddhists, indicating a variety of sects that are not overly hostile, and states there were still followers of Devadatta in Kośala who recognized three previous Buddhas but not Śākyamuni. He visited the birthplaces of these three Buddhas, where stupas had been built in their honor.
He found Magadha prosperous and pious. Of its capital, Patna, he says "by the side of the topes of Asoka has been made a Mahayana monastery very grand and beautiful, there is also a Hinayana one, the two together containing 600 or 700 monks." It is probable that this was typical of the religious condition of Magadha and Bengal. Both schools existed but [94] the Mahayana was the more flourishing. Many of the old sites, such as Râjagṛiha and Gaya, were deserted but there were new towns near them and Bodh Gaya was a place of pilgrimage with three monasteries. In the district of Tamralipti (Tamluk) on the coast of Bengal were 22 monasteries. As his principal object was to obtain copies of the Vinaya, he stayed three years in Patna seeking and copying manuscripts. In this he found some difficulty, for the various schools of the Vinaya, which he says were divided by trivial differences only, handed down their respective versions orally. He found in the Mahayanist monastery one manuscript of the Mahâsânghika rules and considered it the most complete, but also took down the Sarvâstivâdin rules.
He found Magadha prosperous and devout. Regarding its capital, Patna, he remarks, "next to the stupas of Asoka, a grand and beautiful Mahayana monastery has been established, along with a Hinayana one; together, they house about 600 or 700 monks." This probably reflected the religious state of Magadha and Bengal. Both schools were present, but [94] Mahayana was more vibrant. Many of the ancient sites, like Râjagṛiha and Gaya, were abandoned, but new towns had emerged nearby, and Bodh Gaya became a pilgrimage center with three monasteries. In the Tamralipti district (Tamluk) on the coast of Bengal, there were 22 monasteries. His main goal was to obtain copies of the Vinaya, so he spent three years in Patna searching for and copying manuscripts. He encountered some challenges because the different Vinaya schools, which he noted were divided by only minor differences, transmitted their versions orally. In the Mahayanist monastery, he found one manuscript of the Mahâsânghika rules, which he considered the most complete, but he also recorded the Sarvâstivâdin rules.
After the death of Vasubandhu few names of even moderate magnitude stand out in the history of Indian Buddhism. The changes which occurred were great but gradual and due not to the initiative of innovators but to the assimilative power of Hinduism and to the attractions of magical and emotional rites. But this tendency, though it doubtless existed, did not become conspicuous until about 700 A.D. The accounts of the Chinese pilgrims and the literature which has been preserved suggest that in the intervening centuries the monks were chiefly occupied with scholastic and exegetical work. The most distinguished successors of Asanga were logicians, among whom Diṅnâga was pre-eminent. Sthiramati[238] and Guṇamati appear to have belonged to the same school and perhaps Bhavaviveka[239] too. The statements as to his date are inconsistent but the interesting fact is recorded that he utilized the terminology of the Sânkhya for the purposes of the Mahayana.
After the death of Vasubandhu, only a few notable figures emerged in the history of Indian Buddhism. The changes that took place were significant but slow, driven not by the efforts of innovators but by the integrating influence of Hinduism and the appeal of magical and emotional rituals. However, this tendency, while certainly present, didn't become obvious until around 700 A.D. The accounts from Chinese pilgrims and the preserved literature suggest that during the intervening centuries, monks were primarily focused on academic and interpretative work. The most prominent successors of Asanga were logicians, with Diṅnâga being the most notable. Sthiramati[238] and Guṇamati seem to have belonged to the same school, and possibly Bhavaviveka[239] as well. The dates associated with him are inconsistent, but an interesting fact is noted that he used Sânkhya terminology for the purposes of the Mahayana.
Throughout the middle ages the study of logic was pursued but Buddhists and Jains rather than by Brahmans.[240] Vasubandhu composed some treatises dealing exclusively with logic but it was his disciple Diṅnâga who separated it definitely from philosophy and theology. As in idealist philosophy, so in pure logic there was a parallel movement in the Buddhist and Brahmanic schools, but if we may trust the statements [95] of Vâcaspatimiśra (about 1100 A.D.) Diṅnâga interpreted the aphorisms of the Nyâya philosophy in a heterodox or Buddhist sense. This traces the beginnings of Indian logic to a Brahmanic source but subsequently it flourished greatly in the hands of Buddhists, especially Diṅnâga and Dharmakîrti. The former appears to have been a native of Conjevaram and a contemporary of Kâlidâsa. Both the logician and the poet were probably alive in the reign of Kumâragupta (413-455). Diṅnâga spent much time in Nâlanda, and though the Sanskrit originals of his works are lost the Tibetan translations[241] are preserved.
Throughout the Middle Ages, the study of logic was pursued more by Buddhists and Jains than by Brahmins.[240] Vasubandhu wrote several treatises focused exclusively on logic, but it was his student Diṅnâga who ultimately separated it from philosophy and theology. Just like in idealist philosophy, there was a similar movement in both the Buddhist and Brahmin schools regarding pure logic, but according to the statements [95] of Vâcaspatimiśra (around 1100 A.D.), Diṅnâga interpreted the aphorisms of Nyâya philosophy in a non-orthodox or Buddhist way. This links the origins of Indian logic to a Brahmin source, but it later thrived significantly in the hands of Buddhists, particularly Diṅnâga and Dharmakîrti. Diṅnâga seems to have been from Conjevaram and was a contemporary of Kâlidâsa. Both the logician and the poet likely lived during the reign of Kumâragupta (413-455). Diṅnâga spent a lot of time in Nâlanda, and although the original Sanskrit texts of his works have been lost, the Tibetan translations[241] have been preserved.
The Buddhist schools of logic continued for many centuries. One flourished in Kashmir and another, founded by Candragomin, in Bengal. Both lasted almost until the Mohammedan conquest of the two countries.
The Buddhist schools of logic thrived for many centuries. One flourished in Kashmir, and another, established by Candragomin, was in Bengal. Both lasted nearly until the Muslim conquest of the two regions.
From about 470 to 530 A.D. northern India groaned under the tyranny of the Huns. Their King Mihiragula is represented as a determined enemy of Buddhism and a systematic destroyer of monasteries. He is said to have been a worshipper of Śiva but his fury was probably inspired less by religious animosity than by love of pillage and slaughter.
From around 470 to 530 A.D., northern India suffered under the oppression of the Huns. Their king Mihiragula is depicted as a fierce adversary of Buddhism and a methodical destroyer of monasteries. He was said to be a devotee of Śiva, but his rage was likely driven more by a desire for looting and violence than by any religious hatred.
About 530 A.D. he was defeated by a coalition of Indian princes and died ten years later amid storms and portents which were believed to signify the descent of his wicked soul into hell. It must have been about this time that Bodhidharma left India for he arrived in Canton about 520. According to the Chinese he was the son of a king of a country called Hsiang-Chih in southern India[242] and the twenty-eighth patriarch and he became an important figure in the religion and art of the Far East. But no allusion to him or to any of the Patriarchs after Vasubandhu has been found in Indian literature nor in the works of Hsüan Chuang and I-Ching. The inference is that he was of no importance in India and that his reputation in China was not great before the eighth century: also that the Chinese lists of patriarchs do not represent the traditions of northern India.
About 530 A.D., he was defeated by a group of Indian princes and died ten years later during a time of storms and signs that were thought to show the fall of his evil soul into hell. It must have been around this time that Bodhidharma left India since he arrived in Canton around 520. According to the Chinese, he was the son of a king from a place called Hsiang-Chih in southern India[242] and the twenty-eighth patriarch, becoming an important figure in the religion and art of the Far East. However, there are no mentions of him or any of the Patriarchs after Vasubandhu in Indian literature or in the works of Hsüan Chuang and I-Ching. This suggests that he wasn't significant in India and that his reputation in China wasn’t well-known before the eighth century; it also implies that the Chinese lists of patriarchs don’t accurately reflect the traditions of northern India.
Religious feeling often ran high in southern India. Buddhists, Jains and Hindus engaged in violent disputes, and persecution was more frequent than in the north. It is easy to suppose that Bodhidharma being the head of some heretical sect had to fly and followed the example of many monks in going to China. But if so, no record of his school is forthcoming from his native land, though the possibility that he was more than an individual thinker and represented some movement unknown to us cannot be denied. We might suppose too that since Nâgârjuna and Âryadeva were southerners, their peculiar doctrines were coloured by Dravidian ideas. But our available documents indicate that the Buddhism of southern India was almost entirely Hinayanist, analogous to that of Ceylon and not very sympathetic to the Tamils.
Religious feelings often ran high in southern India. Buddhists, Jains, and Hindus got into violent disputes, and persecution was more common than in the north. It’s easy to assume that Bodhidharma, being the leader of some heretical sect, had to escape and followed the lead of many monks by going to China. But if that’s the case, there’s no record of his school from his home country, although it’s possible that he was more than just an individual thinker and represented some movement we aren’t aware of. We could also think that since Nâgârjuna and Âryadeva were from the south, their unique doctrines were influenced by Dravidian ideas. However, the documents we have suggest that Buddhism in southern India was almost entirely Hinayanist, similar to that in Ceylon, and not very sympathetic to the Tamils.
The pilgrims Sung-Yün and Hui-Shêng[243] visited Udyana and Gandhara during the time of the Hun domination (518-521). They found the king of the former a pious Buddhist but the latter was governed by an Ephthalite chieftain, perhaps Mihiragula himself, who was a worshipper of demons. Of the Yetha or Ephthalites they make the general observation that "their rules of politeness are very defective." But they also say that the population of Gandhara had a great respect for Buddhism and as they took back to China 170 volumes, "all standard works belonging to the Great Vehicle," the Ephthalite persecution cannot have destroyed the faith in north-western India. But the evil days of decay were beginning. Henceforward we have no more pictures of untroubled piety and prosperity. At best Buddhism receives royal patronage in company with other religions; sectarian conflicts increase and sometimes we hear of persecution. About 600 A.D. a king of Central Bengal named Saśâṅka who worshipped Śiva attempted to extirpate Buddhism in his dominions and destroyed the Bo tree at Bodh Gaya.[244] On the other hand we hear of the pious Pûrṇavarman, king of Magadha, who made amends for these sacrileges, and of Śîlâditya, king of the country called Mo-lo-po by the Chinese, who was so careful of animal life, that he even strained the water drunk by his horses and elephants, lest they should consume minute insects.
The pilgrims Sung-Yün and Hui-Shêng[243] visited Udyana and Gandhara during the time of Hun rule (518-521). They found that the king of Udyana was a devout Buddhist, while Gandhara was ruled by an Ephthalite chieftain, possibly Mihiragula himself, who worshipped demons. They noted that "their rules of politeness are very defective." However, they also mentioned that the people of Gandhara had great respect for Buddhism, and as they returned to China with 170 volumes, "all standard works belonging to the Great Vehicle," the Ephthalite persecution must not have eradicated Buddhism in north-western India. Yet, the decline had begun. From this point on, we no longer see images of peaceful devotion and prosperity. At best, Buddhism receives royal patronage alongside other religions; sectarian conflicts grow, and we occasionally hear of persecution. Around 600 A.D., a Central Bengal king named Saśâṅka, who worshipped Śiva, tried to eliminate Buddhism in his territory and destroyed the Bo tree at Bodh Gaya.[244] Conversely, we hear of the devout Pûrṇavarman, king of Magadha, who sought to rectify these sacrileges, and of Śîlâditya, king of a region known as Mo-lo-po by the Chinese, who was so mindful of animal life that he even strained the water his horses and elephants drank to prevent them from consuming tiny insects.
We know more of Indian Buddhism in the seventh century than in the periods which precede or follow it. The epoch was marked by the reign of the great king, or rather emperor, Harsha-Vardhana (606-648 A.D.), and the works written by Bâṇa, Bhartrihari and others who frequented his court have come down to us. Also we are fortunate in possessing the copious narrative of Hsüan Chuang, the greatest of the Chinese pilgrims, who spent sixteen years (629-645) in India as well as the work known as the "Record of the Buddhist religion as practised in India and the Malay Archipelago," composed by I-Ching who travelled in those countries from 671 to 695. I-Ching also wrote the lives of sixty Chinese pilgrims who visited India during the seventh century and probably there were many others of whom we have no record.
We know more about Indian Buddhism in the seventh century than in the periods before or after it. This time was defined by the reign of the great king, or rather emperor, Harsha-Vardhana (606-648 A.D.), and the works written by Bâṇa, Bhartrihari, and others who frequented his court have survived. We are also lucky to have the detailed account of Hsüan Chuang, the greatest of the Chinese pilgrims, who spent sixteen years (629-645) in India, along with the work known as the "Record of the Buddhist religion as practiced in India and the Malay Archipelago," written by I-Ching, who traveled in those regions from 671 to 695. I-Ching also documented the lives of sixty Chinese pilgrims who visited India during the seventh century, and there were probably many others whose stories we do not have.
The reign of Harsha is thus illustrated by a number of contemporary dateable works unusual in India. The king himself wrote some Buddhist hymns,[245] and three dramas are ascribed to him but were probably composed by some of the literary men whom he patronized. For all that, the religious ideas which they contain must have had his approval. The Ratnâvalî and Priyadarśikâ are secular pieces and so far as they have any religious atmosphere it is Brahmanic, but the Nàgânanda is a Buddhist religious drama which opens with an invocation of the Buddha and has a Jâtaka story for its plot.[246] Bâṇa was himself a devout Brahman but his historical romance Harshacarita and his novel called Kâdambarî both describe a mixture of religions founded on observation of contemporary life. In an interesting passage[247] he recounts the king's visit to a Buddhist ascetic. The influence of the holy man causes the more intelligent animals in his neighbourhood, such as parrots, to devote themselves to Buddhist lore, but he is surrounded by devotees of the most diverse sects, Jains, Bhâgavatas, Pâncarâtras, Lokâyatikas with followers of Kapila, Kaṇâda and many [98] other teachers. Mayûra, another literary protégé of Harsha's, was like Bâna a Brahman, and Subandhu, who flourished a little before them, ignores Buddhism in his romance called Vâsavadattâ. But Bhartrihari, the still popular gnomic poet, was a Buddhist. It is true that he oscillated between the court and the cloister no less than seven times, but this vacillation seems to have been due to the weakness of the flesh, not to any change of convictions. For our purpose the gist of this literature is that Hinduism in many forms, some of them very unorthodox, was becoming the normal religion of India but that there were still many eminent Buddhists and that Buddhism had sufficient prestige to attract Harsha and sufficient life to respond to his patronage.
The reign of Harsha is highlighted by several contemporary works that are unique in India. The king himself wrote some Buddhist hymns,[245] and three dramas are attributed to him but were likely written by some of the writers he supported. Nevertheless, the religious themes in these works must have had his endorsement. The Ratnâvalî and Priyadarśikâ are secular plays, and the religious tone they carry is Brahmanic, while the Nàgânanda is a Buddhist drama that starts with an invocation to the Buddha and is based on a Jâtaka story.[246] Bâṇa, a devout Brahman himself, wrote the historical romance Harshacarita and a novel called Kâdambarî, both of which reflect a blend of religions based on observations of contemporary life. In an intriguing passage[247], he describes the king’s visit to a Buddhist ascetic. The influence of the holy man leads the more intelligent animals in the area, like parrots, to focus on Buddhist teachings, but he is surrounded by followers of various sects, including Jains, Bhâgavatas, Pâncarâtras, Lokâyatikas, as well as those who follow Kapila, Kaṇâda, and other teachers. Mayûra, another literary protégé of Harsha, was also a Brahman, while Subandhu, who lived a little earlier, overlooks Buddhism in his romance called Vâsavadattâ. However, Bhartrihari, the still-popular gnomic poet, was a Buddhist. It's true that he moved between the court and the monastery seven times, but this shifting seems to have stemmed from human frailty rather than a change in beliefs. For our purposes, the essence of this literature highlights that Hinduism, in various forms including some unorthodox ones, was becoming the predominant religion in India, but there were still many prominent Buddhists, and Buddhism had enough prestige to draw Harsha in and enough vitality to respond to his support.
About 600 A.D. India was exhausted by her struggle with the Huns. After it there remained only a multitude of small states and obscure dynasties, but there was evidently a readiness to accept any form of unifying and tranquillizing rule and for nearly half a century this was provided by Harsha. He conquered northern India from the Panjab to Bengal but failed to subdue the Deccan. Though a great part of his reign was spent in war, learning and education flourished. Hsüan Chuang, who was his honoured guest, gives a good account of his administration but also makes it plain that brigandage prevailed and that travelling was dangerous.
Around 600 A.D., India was worn out from its fight against the Huns. What remained was just a collection of small states and little-known dynasties, but there was clearly a desire for any kind of unifying and calming leadership, and for nearly fifty years, Harsha provided that. He conquered northern India from Punjab to Bengal but couldn't conquer the Deccan. While a significant portion of his rule was spent at war, learning and education thrived. Hsüan Chuang, who was his esteemed guest, offered a solid account of his administration but also made it clear that banditry was common and traveling was risky.
After 643 Harsha, who was growing elderly, devoted much attention to religion and may be said to have become a Buddhist, while allowing himself a certain eclectic freedom. Several creeds were represented among his immediate relatives. Devotion to Śiva was traditional in the family: his father had been a zealous worshipper of the Sun and his brother and sister were Buddhists of the Sammitîya sect. Harsha by no means disowned Brahmanic worship, but in his latter years his proclivity to Buddhism became more marked and he endeavoured to emulate the piety of Asoka. He founded rest houses and hospitals, as well as monasteries and thousands of stupas. He prohibited the taking of life and the use of animal food, and of the three periods into which his day was divided two were devoted to religion and one to business. He also exercised a surveillance over the whole Buddhist order and advanced meritorious members.
After 643, Harsha, who was getting older, focused a lot on religion and is often considered to have become a Buddhist while still allowing himself some eclectic freedom. Various beliefs were represented among his close relatives. Devotion to Śiva was a family tradition: his father had been a dedicated worshipper of the Sun, and his brother and sister were Buddhists from the Sammitîya sect. Harsha didn't completely reject Brahmanic worship, but in his later years, his tendency towards Buddhism became more evident, and he tried to follow the piety of Asoka. He established rest houses, hospitals, monasteries, and thousands of stupas. He prohibited killing and the consumption of animal food, and of the three parts into which he divided his day, two were dedicated to religion and one to business. He also monitored the entire Buddhist order and promoted meritorious members.
Hsüan Chuang has left an interesting account of the religious [99] fêtes and spectacles organized by Harsha. At Kanauj he attended a great assembly during which a solemn procession took place every day. A golden image of Buddha was borne on an elephant and Harsha, dressed as Indra, held a canopy over it, while his ally Raja Kumara,[248] dressed as Brahmâ, waved a fly-whisk. It was subsequently washed by the king's own hands and in the evening his Majesty, who like Akbar had a taste for religious discussion, listened to the arguments of his Chinese guest. But the royal instructions that no one was to speak against the Master of the Law were so peremptory that even his biographer admits there was no real discussion. These edifying pageants were interrupted by disagreeable incidents which show that Harsha's tolerance had not produced complete harmony. A temporary monastery erected for the fêtes caught fire and a fanatic attempted to stab the king. He confessed under examination that he had been instigated to the crime by Brahmans who were jealous of the favours which the Buddhists received. It was also established that the incendiaries were Brahmans and, after the ringleaders had been punished, five hundred were exiled. Harsha then proceeded to Allahabad to superintend a quinquennial distribution of alms. It was his custom to let treasure accumulate for five years and then to divide it among holy men and the poor. The proceedings lasted seventy-five days and the concourse which collected to gaze and receive must have resembled the fair still held on the same spot. Buddhists, Brahmans and Jains all partook of the royal bounty and the images of Buddha, Sûrya and Śiva were worshipped on successive days, though greater honour was shown to the Buddha. The king gave away everything that he had, even his robes and jewels, and finally, arrayed in clothes borrowed from his sister, rejoiced saying "all I have has entered into incorruptible and imperishable treasuries." After this, adds Hsüan Chuang, the king's vassals offered him jewels and robes so that the treasury was replenished. This was the sixth quinquennial distribution which Harsha had held and the last, for he died in 648. He at first favoured the Hinayana but subsequently went over to the Mahayana, being moved in part by the exhortations of Hsüan Chuang.
Hsüan Chuang has left an intriguing account of the religious [99] festivals and spectacles organized by Harsha. In Kanauj, he attended a huge gathering during which a solemn procession occurred every day. A golden Buddha statue was carried on an elephant, and Harsha, dressed as Indra, held a canopy over it, while his ally Raja Kumara, dressed as Brahmâ, waved a fly-whisk. Later, the king personally washed the statue, and in the evening, he, like Akbar, who enjoyed discussing religion, listened to his Chinese guest's arguments. However, the royal directive that no one could speak against the Master of the Law was so strict that even his biographer admitted there wasn't any real debate. These enlightening celebrations were interrupted by unpleasant incidents that showed Harsha's tolerance hadn't created complete harmony. A temporary monastery built for the festivals caught fire, and a fanatic tried to stab the king. He confessed under questioning that Brahmans, who were jealous of the privileges given to Buddhists, had incited him to commit the act. It was also found that the arsonists were Brahmans, and after punishing the ringleaders, five hundred were exiled. Harsha then went to Allahabad to oversee a five-year distribution of alms. He usually let treasure build up for five years and then shared it among holy men and the poor. The event lasted seventy-five days, and the crowd that gathered probably resembled the fair still held at that location. Buddhists, Brahmans, and Jains all benefited from the royal generosity, and the images of Buddha, Sûrya, and Śiva were worshiped on successive days, although the Buddha received the highest honor. The king gave away everything he owned, even his robes and jewels, and finally, dressed in clothes borrowed from his sister, he exclaimed, "All I have has entered into incorruptible and imperishable treasuries." After that, Hsüan Chuang adds, the king's vassals presented him with jewels and robes, so the treasury was refilled. This was the sixth five-year distribution that Harsha had held and the last one, as he died in 648. Initially, he favored the Hinayana but later shifted to the Mahayana, partly influenced by Hsüan Chuang's exhortations.
Yet the substance of Hsüan Chuang's account is that though Buddhism was prospering in the Far East it was decaying in India. Against this can be set instances of royal piety like those described, the fame enjoyed by the shrines and schools of Magadha and the conversion of the king of Tibet in 638 A.D. This event was due to Chinese as well as Indian influence, but would hardly have occurred unless in north-eastern India Buddhism had been esteemed the religion of civilization. Still Hsüan Chuang's long catalogue of deserted monasteries[249] has an unmistakable significance. The decay was most pronounced in the north-west and south. In Gandhara there were only a few Buddhists: more than a thousand monasteries stood untenanted and the Buddha's sacred bowl had vanished. In Takshaśîla the monasteries were numerous but desolate: in Kashmir the people followed a mixed faith. Only in Udyâna was Buddhism held in high esteem. In Sind the monks were numerous but indolent.
Yet the core of Hsüan Chuang's account is that while Buddhism was thriving in the Far East, it was in decline in India. In contrast, there are examples of royal devotion like the ones mentioned, the recognition of the shrines and schools in Magadha, and the conversion of the king of Tibet in 638 A.D. This event was influenced by both Chinese and Indian factors, but it likely would not have happened if Buddhism had not been regarded as the religion of civilization in northeastern India. Still, Hsüan Chuang's extensive list of abandoned monasteries[249] holds a clear significance. The decline was especially noticeable in the northwest and south. In Gandhara, there were only a few Buddhists: more than a thousand monasteries were empty and the Buddha's sacred bowl was lost. In Takshaśîla, the monasteries were many but deserted: in Kashmir, the people practiced a mixed faith. Only in Udyâna was Buddhism highly regarded. In Sind, the monks were numerous but lazy.
No doubt this desolation was largely due to the depredations of Mihiragula. In the Deccan and the extreme south there was also a special cause, namely the prevalence of Jainism, which somewhat later became the state religion in several kingdoms. In Kalinga, Andhra and the kingdom of the Colas the pilgrim reports that Jains were very numerous but counts Buddhist monasteries only by tens and twenties. In Dravida there were also 10,000 monks of the Sthavira school but in Malakuta among many ruined monasteries only a few were still inhabited and here again Jains were numerous.
No doubt this emptiness was mainly due to the destruction caused by Mihiragula. In the Deccan and the far south, there was also a specific reason: the rise of Jainism, which later became the state religion in several kingdoms. In Kalinga, Andhra, and the kingdom of the Colas, the traveler notes that Jains were very numerous, while Buddhist monasteries were counted only in the tens and twenties. In Dravida, there were also 10,000 monks from the Sthavira school, but in Malakuta, among many ruined monasteries, only a few were still occupied, and once again, Jains were plentiful.
For all Central India and Bengal the pilgrim's statistics tell the same tale, namely that though Buddhism was represented both by monasteries and monks, the Deva-temples and unbelievers were also numerous. The most favourable accounts are those given of Kanauj, Ayodhya and Magadha where the sacred sites naturally caused the devout to congregate.
For all of Central India and Bengal, the statistics for pilgrims tell the same story: even though Buddhism had both monasteries and monks, there were also many Deva temples and non-believers. The most favorable reports were from Kanauj, Ayodhya, and Magadha, where the holy sites naturally brought the faithful together.
The statistics which he gives as to sects are interesting.[250] The total number of monks amounted to about 183,000. Of these only 32,000 belonged definitely to the Mahayana: more [101] than 96,000 to the Hinayana, and 54,500 studied both systems or at any rate resided in monasteries which tolerated either course of study. Some writers speak as if after our era Mahayanism was predominant in India and the Hinayana banished to its extreme confines such as Ceylon and Kashmir. Yet about A.D. 640 this zealous Mahayanist[251] states that half the monks of India were definitely Hinayanist while less than a fifth had equally definite Mahayanist convictions. The Mahayana laid less stress on monasticism than the Hinayana and therefore its strength may have lain among the laity, but even so the admitted strength of the Hinayana is remarkable. Three Hinayanist schools are frequently mentioned, the Sthaviras, Sarvâstivâdins and Sammitîyas. The first are the well-known Sinhalese sect and were found chiefly in the south (Conjeevaram) and in East Bengal, besides the monks of the Sinhalese monastery at Gaya. The Sarvâstivâdins were found, as their history would lead us to expect, chiefly in the north and beyond the frontiers of India proper. But both were outnumbered by the Sammitîyas, who amounted to nearly 44,000 monks. The chief doctrine[252] of this sect is said to have been that individuals (puggalo) exist as such in the truest sense. This doctrine was supported by reference to the sutra known as the Burden and the Burden bearer.[253] It does not assert that there is a permanent and unchangeable soul (attâ) but it emphasizes the reality and importance of that personality which all accept as true for practical purposes. It is probable that in practice this belief differed little from the ordinary Brahmanic doctrine of metempsychosis and this may be one reason for the prevalence of the sect.
The statistics he provides about the different sects are intriguing.[250] The total number of monks was around 183,000. Of these, only 32,000 belonged specifically to the Mahayana, more than 96,000 followed the Hinayana, and 54,500 studied both systems or lived in monasteries that accepted either form of study. Some writers suggest that after our era, Mahayanism became the dominant form in India, while the Hinayana was pushed to its farthest reaches like Ceylon and Kashmir. However, around A.D. 640, a dedicated Mahayanist[251] noted that half of the monks in India were clearly Hinayanist, while less than a fifth had definite Mahayanist beliefs. The Mahayana placed less emphasis on monastic life compared to the Hinayana, which might explain its appeal among laypeople, but the strength of the Hinayana is still significant. Three Hinayanist schools are often mentioned: the Sthaviras, the Sarvâstivâdins, and the Sammitîyas. The Sthaviras are the well-known Sinhalese sect found mostly in the south (like Conjeevaram) and in East Bengal, as well as the monks from the Sinhalese monastery at Gaya. The Sarvâstivâdins were primarily located in the north and beyond India’s borders, as their history suggests. However, both groups were outnumbered by the Sammitîyas, who counted nearly 44,000 monks. The main belief[252] of this sect is said to be that individuals (puggalo) truly exist in the most genuine sense. This belief was backed up by the sutra known as the Burden and the Burden Bearer.[253] It does not claim that there is a permanent and unchanging soul (attâ) but highlights the reality and significance of the personality that everyone accepts as true for practical reasons. In practice, it’s likely that this belief was very similar to the usual Brahmanic view of metempsychosis, which could explain the sect's popularity.
I-Ching, though he does not furnish statistics, gives a clear conspectus of Buddhist sects as they existed in his time. He starts from the ancient eighteen sects but divides them into four groups or Nikayas. (a) The Ârya-Mahâsanghika-nikâya. This comprised seven subdivisions but was apparently the least influential school as it was not predominant anywhere, though [102] it coexisted with other schools in most parts. The Lokottaravâdins mentioned by Hsüan Chuang as existing at Bamiyan belonged to it. They held that the Buddha was not subject to the laws of nature. (b) Ârya-Sthavira-nikâya. This is the school to which our Pali Canon belongs. It was predominant in southern India and Ceylon and was also found in eastern Bengal. (c) The Ârya-Mûla-sarvâstivâda-nikâya with four subdivisions. Almost all belonged to this school in northern India and it was nourishing in Magadha. (d) The Ârya-Sammitîya-nikâya with four subdivisions flourished in Lâṭa and Sindhu. Thus the last three schools were preponderant in southern, northern and western India respectively. All were followed in Magadha, no doubt because the holy places and the University of Nâlandâ attracted all shades of opinion, and Bengal seems to have been similarly catholic. This is substantially the same as Hsüan Chuang's statement except that I-Ching takes a more favourable view of the position of the Sarvâstivâda, either because it was his own school or because its position had really improved.
I-Ching, while not providing statistics, offers a clear overview of the Buddhist sects that existed during his time. He begins with the ancient eighteen sects and divides them into four groups or Nikayas. (a) The Ârya-Mahâsanghika-nikâya. This group included seven subdivisions but was likely the least influential, as it wasn’t dominant anywhere, although [102] it coexisted with other schools in most regions. The Lokottaravâdins mentioned by Hsüan Chuang, who were based in Bamiyan, were part of this group. They believed that the Buddha was not bound by the laws of nature. (b) Ârya-Sthavira-nikâya. This is the school from which our Pali Canon comes. It was the leading school in southern India and Ceylon and was also present in eastern Bengal. (c) The Ârya-Mûla-sarvâstivâda-nikâya, which had four subdivisions. Almost everyone in northern India belonged to this school, and it was thriving in Magadha. (d) The Ârya-Sammitîya-nikâya, also with four subdivisions, flourished in Lâṭa and Sindhu. Thus, the last three schools were dominant in southern, northern, and western India, respectively. All were practiced in Magadha, likely because the holy sites and the University of Nâlandâ attracted various opinions, and Bengal appeared similarly inclusive. This is mostly in line with Hsüan Chuang's statement, except that I-Ching seems to have a more positive view of the Sarvâstivâda’s status, possibly because it was his own school or because its situation had actually improved.
It would seem that in the estimation of both pilgrims the Maha-and Hinayana are not schools but modes in which any school can be studied. The Nikâya[254] or school appears to have been chiefly, though not exclusively, concerned with the rule of discipline which naturally had more importance for Buddhist monks than it has for European scholars. The observances of each Nikâya were laid down in its own recension of the scriptures which was sometimes oral and sometimes in writing. Probably all the eighteen schools had separate Vinayas, and to some extent they had different editions of the other Pitakas, for the Sarvâstivâdins had an Abhidharma of their own. But there was no objection to combining the study of Sarvâstivâdin literature with the reading of treatises by Asanga [103] and Vasubandhu[255] or sutras such as the Lotus, which I-Ching's master read once a day for sixty years. I-Ching himself seems to regard the two Vehicles as alternative forms of religion, both excellent in their way, much as a Catholic theologian might impartially explain the respective advantages of the active and contemplative lives. "With resolutions rightly formed" he says "we should look forward to meeting the coming Buddha Maitreya. If we wish to gain the lesser fruition (of the Hinayana) we may pursue it through the eight grades of sanctification. But if we learn to follow the course of the greater fruition (of the Mahayana) we must try to accomplish our work through long ages."[256]
It seems that both pilgrims believe the Maha and Hinayana are not just schools but ways in which any school can be studied. The Nikâya[254] or school was primarily, although not exclusively, focused on the discipline rules, which were more significant for Buddhist monks than for European scholars. Each Nikâya had its own version of the scriptures, sometimes transmitted orally and sometimes in writing. It's likely that all eighteen schools had their own Vinayas, and to some extent, they had different versions of the other Pitakas, since the Sarvâstivâdins had their own Abhidharma. However, there was no issue with combining the study of Sarvâstivâdin literature with reading works by Asanga [103] and Vasubandhu[255] or texts like the Lotus, which I-Ching's master read daily for sixty years. I-Ching himself seems to view the two Vehicles as alternative forms of religion, both valuable in their own way, similar to how a Catholic theologian might neutrally discuss the benefits of active and contemplative lives. "With the right intentions," he says, "we should look forward to meeting the future Buddha Maitreya. If we want to achieve the lesser outcome (of the Hinayana), we can pursue it through the eight levels of sanctification. But if we aim to follow the path of the greater outcome (of the Mahayana), we must try to achieve our goals over long periods." [256]
I-Ching observes that both Vehicles agree in prescribing the same discipline, in prohibiting the same offences and enjoining the practice of the noble truths. His views, which are substantially those of Hsüan Chuang,[257] must be those current in the seventh century when the Hinayana was allowing the Mahayana to overgrow it without resistance, but the relations of the two creeds are sometimes stated differently. For instance the Angulimâliya sutra,[258] known only in a Tibetan translation, states that whereas for the Hinayana such formulæ as the four truths and the eightfold path are of cardinal importance, the Mahayana does not recognize them, and it is undoubtedly true that the Vaipulya sutras frequently ignore the familiar doctrines of early Buddhism and hint that they belong to a rudimentary stage of instruction.
I-Ching points out that both Schools agree on the same practices, prohibit the same offenses, and promote the practice of noble truths. His views, which largely align with those of Hsüan Chuang,[257] must reflect the thoughts of the seventh century when the Hinayana allowed the Mahayana to expand without much opposition, but the relationship between the two traditions is sometimes described differently. For example, the Angulimâliya sutra,[258] available only in Tibetan translation, states that while the four truths and the eightfold path are essential for the Hinayana, the Mahayana does not recognize them. It’s clear that the Vaipulya sutras often overlook the well-known teachings of early Buddhism and suggest that they belong to a more basic level of instruction.
I-Ching makes no mention of persecution but he deplores the decay of the faith. "The teaching of the Buddha is becoming less prevalent in the world from day to day" he says. "When I compare what I have witnessed in my younger days and what I see to-day in my old age, the state is altogether different and we are bearing witness to this and it is hoped we shall be more [104]attentive in future." Though he speaks regretfully of lax or incorrect discipline, he does not complain of the corruption of the faith by Tantrism and magical practices. He does however deprecate in an exceedingly curious passage the prevalence of religious suicide.[259]
I-Ching doesn’t mention persecution, but he laments the decline of faith. "The teachings of the Buddha are becoming less common in the world every day," he says. "When I compare what I experienced in my younger days to what I see now in my old age, the situation is completely different, and we are witnessing this; hopefully, we will be more [104]attentive in the future." While he expresses regret over lax or incorrect discipline, he doesn’t complain about the faith being corrupted by Tantrism and magical practices. However, he does criticize, in a very interesting passage, the rise of religious suicide.[259]
Except for progressive decay, the condition of Indian Buddhism as described by the two pilgrims is much the same. Meals were supplied to monks in the monasteries and it was no longer usual to beg for food in the streets, since the practice is mentioned by I-Ching as exceptional. On Upavasatha days it was the custom for the pious laity to entertain the monks and the meal was sometimes preceded by a religious service performed before an image and accompanied by music. I-Ching describes the musical services with devout enthusiasm. "The priests perform the ordinary service late in the afternoon or in the evening twilight. They come out of the monastery and walk three times round a stupa, offering incense and flowers. Then they all kneel down and one of them who sings well begins to chant hymns describing the virtues of the great Teacher and continues to sing ten or twenty ślokas. They then return to the place in the monastery where they usually assemble and, when all have sat down, a reciter mounting the lion-seat (which is near the head priest) reads a short sutra. Among the scriptures for such an occasion the 'Service in three parts' is often used. This is a selection of Aśvaghosha. The first part contains ten ślokas of a hymn. The second part is a selection from some scripture consisting of the Buddha's words. Then there is an additional hymn as the third part of the service, of more than ten ślokas, being prayers that express the wish to bring one's merits to maturity. After the singing the assembled Bhikshus exclaim Subhâshita or Sâdhu, that is well-said or bravo. The reader descends and the Bhikshus in order salute the lion-seat, the seats of Bodhisattvas and Arhats, and the superior of the monastery."[260]
Except for some decline, the state of Indian Buddhism as described by the two pilgrims is pretty much the same. Monks in the monasteries were provided meals, and it had become uncommon to beg for food in the streets, as this practice is noted by I-Ching as rare. On Upavasatha days, it was customary for devoted laypeople to host the monks, and the meal was sometimes preceded by a religious service held before an image and accompanied by music. I-Ching describes the musical services with sincere enthusiasm. "The priests conduct the regular service late in the afternoon or in the evening twilight. They come out of the monastery and walk around a stupa three times, offering incense and flowers. Then they all kneel down, and one of them, who has a good singing voice, starts to chant hymns that celebrate the virtues of the great Teacher and continues to sing ten or twenty ślokas. After that, they return to the usual gathering place in the monastery where everyone sits down. A reciter then takes the lion-seat (which is near the head priest) and reads a short sutra. Among the texts chosen for such an occasion, the 'Service in three parts' is often used. This is a collection by Aśvaghosha. The first part includes ten ślokas of a hymn. The second part is a selection from a scripture that features the Buddha's words. Finally, there is an additional hymn as the third part of the service, consisting of more than ten ślokas, which are prayers expressing a desire to develop one’s merits. After the singing, the gathered Bhikshus shout Subhâshita or Sâdhu, meaning well-said or bravo. The reader comes down, and the Bhikshus salute in order the lion-seat, the seats of Bodhisattvas and Arhats, and the head of the monastery." [260]
I-Ching also tells us of the ceremonial bathing of images and prefaces his description by the remark that "the meaning of the Truths is so profound that it is a matter beyond the comprehension of vulgar minds while the ablution of the holy images is practicable for all. Though the Great Teacher has entered Nirvana yet his image exists and we should worship it with zeal as though in his presence. Those who constantly offer incense and flowers to it are enabled to purify their thoughts and those who perpetually bathe his image are enabled to overcome the sins that involve them in darkness."[261] He appears to contemplate chiefly the veneration of images of Sâkyamuni but figures of Bodhisattvas were also conspicuous features in temples, as we know not only from archæology but from the biography of Hsüan Chuang, where it is said that worshippers used to throw flowers and silk scarves at the image of Avalokita and draw auguries from the way they fell.
I-Ching also talks about the ceremonial bathing of images and starts his description by saying that "the meaning of the Truths is so deep that it's beyond the understanding of ordinary minds, while the washing of the holy images is something anyone can do. Even though the Great Teacher has reached Nirvana, his image still exists, and we should worship it with the same enthusiasm as if he were present. Those who regularly offer incense and flowers to it can purify their thoughts, and those who continually bathe his image can overcome the sins that trap them in darkness."[261] He mainly seems to focus on the reverence of images of Sâkyamuni, but figures of Bodhisattvas were also prominent in temples, as we know not just from archaeology but also from the biography of Hsüan Chuang, where it's mentioned that worshippers used to toss flowers and silk scarves at the image of Avalokita and interpret the way they landed.
Monasteries were liberally decorated with statues, carvings and pictures.[262] They often comprised several courts and temples. Hsüan Chuang says that a monastery in Magadha which he calls Ti-lo-shi-ka had "four courts with three storeyed halls, lofty terraces and a succession of open passages.... At the head of the road through the middle gate were three temples with disks on the roof and hung with small bells; the bases were surrounded by balustrades, and doors, windows, beams, walls, and stairs were ornamented with gilt work in relief." In the three temples were large images representing the Buddha, Târâ and Avalokita.
Monasteries were richly decorated with statues, carvings, and pictures.[262] They usually included several courtyards and temples. Hsüan Chuang mentions a monastery in Magadha that he calls Ti-lo-shi-ka, which had "four courtyards with three-story halls, high terraces, and a series of open passageways.... At the start of the path through the main gate, there were three temples with discs on the roofs and adorned with small bells; the bases were surrounded by railings, and the doors, windows, beams, walls, and stairs were decorated with relief gilt work." Inside the three temples were large statues of the Buddha, Târâ, and Avalokita.
The great centres of Buddhist learning and monastic life, mentioned by both pilgrims, were Valabhî or Balabhi in Gujarat and Nalanda. The former was a district rather than a single locality and contained 100 monasteries with 6000 monks of the Sammitîya school. Nalanda was in Magadha not far from Gaya. The date of its foundation is unknown but a great temple (though apparently not the first) was built about [106] 485 A.D.[263] Fa-Hsien mentions a village called Nala but without indicating that it was a seat of learning. Hence it is probable that the University was not then in existence or at least not celebrated. Hsüan Chuang describes it as containing six monasteries built by various kings and surrounded by an enclosing wall in which there was only one gate. I-Ching writing later says that the establishment owned 200 villages and contained eight halls with more than 3000 monks. In the neighbourhood of the monastery were a hundred sacred spots, several marked by temples and topes. It was a resort for Buddhists from all countries and an educational as well as a religious centre. I-Ching says that students spent two or three years there in learning and disputing after which they went to the king's court in search of a government appointment. Successful merit was rewarded not only by rank but by grants of land. Both pilgrims mention the names of several celebrities connected with Nalanda. But the worthies of the seventh century did not attain to more than scholastic eminence. The most important literary figure of the age is Śântideva of whose life nothing is known. His writings however prove that the Buddhism of this period was not a corrupt superstition, but could inspire and nourish some of the most beautiful thoughts which the creed has produced.
The major centers of Buddhist education and monastic life, noted by both travelers, were Valabhî or Balabhi in Gujarat and Nalanda. The former was more of a region than a single place and had 100 monasteries with 6000 monks from the Sammitîya school. Nalanda was located in Magadha, not far from Gaya. The exact date of its founding is unclear, but a significant temple (though not the first) was constructed around [106] 485 A.D.[263] Fa-Hsien mentions a village called Nala but does not indicate that it was an educational hub. Therefore, it’s likely that the University either didn’t exist yet or was not well-known at that time. Hsüan Chuang describes it as having six monasteries built by different kings, surrounded by a wall with only one entrance. I-Ching, who wrote later, says that the institution owned 200 villages and had eight halls with more than 3000 monks. Nearby the monastery were a hundred sacred sites, many marked by temples and stupas. It was a gathering place for Buddhists from all over and served as both an educational and spiritual center. I-Ching mentions that students spent two to three years there studying and debating before going to the king's court to seek government positions. Successful candidates were rewarded not just with rank but also with land grants. Both travelers reference several notable figures associated with Nalanda. However, the distinguished individuals of the seventh century did not achieve more than academic recognition. The most significant literary figure of the time is Śântideva, of whom little is known. His writings, however, demonstrate that Buddhism during this period was not a twisted superstition but could inspire and cultivate some of the most profound thoughts that the faith has ever produced.
FOOTNOTES:
[230] See Vasilief, Le Bouddhisme, Troisième supplément, pp. 262 ff. Köppen, Rel. des Buddha, I. 151. Takakusu in J. Pali Text Society, 1905, pp. 67-146.
[230] See Vasilief, Le Bouddhisme, Third Supplement, pp. 262 ff. Köppen, Rel. des Buddha, I. 151. Takakusu in J. Pali Text Society, 1905, pp. 67-146.
[235] Hsüan Chuang informs us that when he was in Śrughna he studied the Vibhâshâ of the Sautrântikas, but the precise significance of this term is not plain.
[235] Hsüan Chuang tells us that when he was in Śrughna, he studied the Vibhâshâ of the Sautrântikas, but the exact meaning of this term isn’t clear.
[236] Fa-Hsien's Travels, chap. XVI.
[237] This figure is probably deduced from some artificial calculation of possible heresies like the 62 wrong views enumerated in the Brahma-Jala sûtra.
[237] This number is likely based on some made-up calculation of potential heresies, similar to the 62 incorrect beliefs listed in the Brahma-Jala sutra.
[240] For the history of logic in India, see Vidyâbhusana's interesting work Mediæval School of Indian Logic, 1909. But I cannot accept all his dates.
[240] For the history of logic in India, see Vidyâbhusana's fascinating work Mediæval School of Indian Logic, 1909. However, I cannot agree with all his dates.
[241] Diṅnâga's principal works are the Pramâṇa-samuccaya and the Nyâya-praveśa. Hsüan Chuang calls him Ch'en-na. See Watters, II. 209. See Stcherbatskoi in Muséon, 1904, pp. 129-171 for Diṅnâga's influence on the development of the Naiyâyika and Vaiśeshika schools.
[241] Diṅnâga's main works are the Pramâṇa-samuccaya and the Nyâya-praveśa. Hsüan Chuang refers to him as Ch'en-na. See Watters, II. 209. For Diṅnâga's impact on the evolution of the Naiyâyika and Vaiśeshika schools, see Stcherbatskoi in Muséon, 1904, pp. 129-171.
[242] His personal name is said to have been P'u-ti-to-lo and his surname Ch'a-ti-li. The latter is probably a corruption of Kshatriya. Hsiang-Chih possibly represents a name beginning with Gandha, but I can neither find nor suggest any identification.
[242] His first name is thought to have been P'u-ti-to-lo and his last name Ch'a-ti-li. The last name is likely a distorted version of Kshatriya. Hsiang-Chih might indicate a name starting with Gandha, but I can't identify or propose any confirmation.
[243] See B.E.F.E.O. 1903, pp. 379 ff.
[245] See Ettinghausen, Harshavardhana, Appendix III.
[246] The appearance of Gaurî as a dea ex machina at the end hardly shows that Harsha's Buddhism had a Śâktist tinge but it does show that Buddhists of that period turned naturally to Śivaite mythology.
[246] The presence of Gaurî as a dea ex machina at the end doesn’t really indicate that Harsha's Buddhism had a Śâktist influence, but it does demonstrate that Buddhists of that time naturally leaned towards Śivaite mythology.
[247] Harshacarita, chap. VII. The parrots were expounding Vasubandhu's Abhidharma-kośa. Bâṇa frequently describes troops of holy men apparently living in harmony but including followers of most diverse sects. See Kâdambari, 193 and 394: Harshacar. 67.
[247] Harshacarita, chap. VII. The parrots were discussing Vasubandhu's Abhidharma-kośa. Bâṇa often depicts groups of holy men seemingly living in harmony, yet consisting of followers from various sects. See Kâdambari, 193 and 394: Harshacar. 67.
[249] The Râshṭra-pâla-paripṛicchâ (Ed. Finot, pp. ix-xi, 28-33) inveighs against the moral degeneration of the Buddhist clergy. This work was translated into Chinese between 589 and 618, so that demoralisation must have begun in the sixth century.
[249] The Râshṭra-pâla-paripṛicchâ (Ed. Finot, pp. ix-xi, 28-33) criticizes the moral decline of the Buddhist clergy. This work was translated into Chinese between 589 and 618, indicating that the decline likely started in the sixth century.
[252] See the beginning of the Kathâvatthu. The doctrine is formulated in the words Puggalo upalabbhati saccikaṭṭhaparamaṭṭhenâti, and there follows a discussion between a member of the orthodox school and a Puggalavâdin, that is one who believes in the existence of a person, soul or entity which transmigrates from this world to another.
[252] See the beginning of the Kathâvatthu. The doctrine is expressed as Puggalo upalabbhati saccikaṭṭhaparamaṭṭhenâti, and then there’s a discussion between a member of the orthodox school and a Puggalavâdin, meaning someone who believes in the existence of a person, soul, or entity that moves from this world to another.
[253] Sam. Nik. XXII. 221.
[254] This use of Nikâya must not be confused with its other use to denote a division of the Sûtra-Pitaka. It means a group or collection and hence can be used to denote either a body of men or a collection of treatises. These Nikâyas are also not the same as the four schools (Vaibhâshikas, etc.), mentioned above, which were speculative. Similarly in Europe a Presbyterian may be a Calvinist, but Presbyterianism has reference to Church government and Calvinism to doctrine.
[254] This use of Nikâya should not be confused with its other meaning, which refers to a division of the Sûtra-Pitaka. It signifies a group or collection, so it can refer to either a group of people or a collection of texts. These Nikâyas are also different from the four schools (Vaibhâshikas, etc.) mentioned earlier, which were more theoretical. Similarly, in Europe, a Presbyterian might identify as a Calvinist, but Presbyterianism relates to church governance while Calvinism pertains to doctrine.
There were in India at this time (1) two vehicles, Maha-and Hinayana, (2) four speculative schools, Vaibhâshikas, etc., (3) four disciplinary schools, Mûla-sarvâstivâdins, etc. These three classes are obviously not mutually exclusive. Thus I-Ching approved of (a) the Mahayana, (b) the Mâdhyamika and Yogâcâra, which he did not consider inconsistent and (c) the Mûla-sarvâstivâda.
There were in India at this time (1) two branches, Mahayana and Hinayana, (2) four philosophical schools, including Vaibhāshika, and (3) four disciplinary schools, like Mūla-sarvāstivāda. These three categories are clearly not mutually exclusive. Therefore, I-Ching approved of (a) Mahayana, (b) Mādhyamika and Yogācāra, which he didn't see as conflicting, and (c) Mūla-sarvāstivāda.
[255] I-Ching, transl. Takakusu, p. 186.
[256] Three Asankhya Kalpas. I-Ching, Takakusu's transl. pp. 196-7. He seems to regard the Mahayana as the better way. He quotes Nâgârjuna's allusions to Avalokita and Amitâyus with apparent approval; he tells us how one of his teachers worshipped Amitâyus and strove to prepare himself for Sukhâvatî and how the Lotus was the favourite scripture of another. He further tells us that the Mâdhyamika and the Yoga systems are both perfectly correct.
[256] Three Asankhya Kalpas. I-Ching, Takakusu's transl. pp. 196-7. He seems to see Mahayana as the superior path. He references Nâgârjuna's mentions of Avalokita and Amitâyus with clear approval; he shares how one of his teachers honored Amitâyus and worked to prepare himself for Sukhâvatî, and how the Lotus was the preferred scripture of another. He also mentions that the Mâdhyamika and Yoga systems are both entirely valid.
[259] Chaps. XXXVIII and XXXIX. He seems to say that it is right for the laity to make an offering of their bodies by burning but not for Bhikshus. The practice is recognized and commended in the Lotus, chap. XXII, which however is a later addition to the original work.
[259] Chaps. XXXVIII and XXXIX. He appears to suggest that it is appropriate for laypeople to offer their bodies through burning but not for monks. This practice is acknowledged and praised in the Lotus, chap. XXII, which, however, is a later addition to the original text.
[260] I-Ching, transl. Takakusu, pp. 153-4 somewhat abridged. I-Ching (pp. 156-7) speaks of Mâtricheta as the principal hymn writer and does not identify him with Aśvaghosha.
[260] I-Ching, transl. Takakusu, pp. 153-4 somewhat abridged. I-Ching (pp. 156-7) refers to Mâtricheta as the main hymn writer and does not associate him with Aśvaghosha.
[263] By the Gupta king, Narasinha Gupta Bâlâditya. Much information about Nâlandâ will be found in Satis Chandra Vidyabhusana's Mediæval School of Indian Logic, pp. 145-147. Hsüan Chuang (Life, transl. Beal, p. 111) says that it was built 700 years before his time, that is, in the first century B.C. He dwells on the beauty of the buildings, ponds and flowers.
[263] By the Gupta king, Narasinha Gupta Bâlâditya. You can find a lot of information about Nâlandâ in Satis Chandra Vidyabhusana's Mediæval School of Indian Logic, pp. 145-147. Hsüan Chuang (Life, transl. Beal, p. 111) mentions that it was built 700 years before his time, which means in the first century B.C. He emphasizes the beauty of the buildings, ponds, and flowers.
CHAPTER XXIV
DECADENCE OF BUDDHISM IN INDIA
The theme of this chapter is sad for it is the decadence, degradation and ultimate disappearance of Buddhism in India. The other great religions offer no precise parallel to this phenomenon but they also do not offer a parallel to the circumstances of Buddhism at the time when it flourished in its native land. Mohammedanism has been able to maintain itself in comparative isolation: up to the present day Moslims and Christians share the same cities rather than the same thoughts, especially when (as often) they belong to different races. European Christianity after a few centuries of existence had to contend with no rival of approximately equal strength, for the struggle with Mohammedanism was chiefly military and hardly concerned the merits of the faiths. But Buddhism never had a similarly paramount and unchallenged position. It never attempted to extirpate its rivals. It coexisted with a mass of popular superstition which it only gently reprobated and with a powerful hereditary priesthood, both intellectual and pliant, tenacious of their own ideas and yet ready to countenance almost any other ideas as the price of ruling. Neither Islam nor Christianity had such an adversary, and both of them and even Judaism resemble Buddhism in having won greater success outside their native lands than in them. Jerusalem is not an altogether satisfactory spectacle to either Christians or Jews.[264]
The theme of this chapter is sad because it deals with the decline, degradation, and eventual disappearance of Buddhism in India. The other major religions don’t have a direct comparison to this situation, but they also don’t reflect the unique circumstances Buddhism faced when it thrived in its home country. Islam has managed to survive relatively isolated: even today, Muslims and Christians live in the same cities but often don’t share the same beliefs, especially when they belong to different ethnic groups. European Christianity, after a few centuries of existence, didn’t have to face a rival of similar strength, as its conflict with Islam was mostly military and didn’t really involve a debate over the merits of their faiths. In contrast, Buddhism never held such a dominant and unquestioned position. It never sought to eliminate its competitors. It coexisted with a lot of popular superstitions that it lightly criticized and with a powerful hereditary priesthood that was both intellectual and flexible, holding tight to their beliefs while being open to almost any other ideas in exchange for maintaining their power. Neither Islam nor Christianity had such an opponent, and all three, including Judaism, share the trait of having achieved more success outside their places of origin than within them. Jerusalem is not a completely satisfying sight for either Christians or Jews.[264]
Still all this does not completely explain the disappearance of Buddhism from India. Before attempting to assign reasons, we shall do well to review some facts and dates relating to the period of decadence. If we take all India into consideration the period is long, but in many, indeed in most, districts the process of decay was rapid.
Still, all this doesn’t entirely explain the disappearance of Buddhism from India. Before we try to assign reasons, it’s good to look over some facts and dates related to the decline. When we consider all of India, the period is lengthy, but in many, if not most, areas, the decline happened quickly.
In the preceding chapter I have mentioned the accounts of Indian Buddhism which we owe to the Chinese travellers, Hsüan Chuang and I-Ching. The latter frankly deplores the decay of [108] the faith which he had witnessed in his own life (i.e. about 650-700 A.D.) but his travels in India were of relatively small extent and he gives less local information than previous pilgrims. Hsüan Chuang describing India in 629-645 A.D. is unwilling to admit the decay but his truthful narrative lets it be seen. It is only of Bengal and the present United Provinces that he can be said to give a favourable account, and the prosperity of Buddhism there was largely due to the personal influence of Harsha.[265] In central and southern India, he tells us of little but deserted monasteries. It is clear that Buddhism was dying out but it is not so clear that it had ever been the real religion of this region. In many parts it did not conquer the population but so to speak built fortresses and left garrisons. It is probable that the Buddhism of Andhra, Kalinga and the south was represented by little more than such outposts. They included Amarâvati, where portions of the ruins seem assignable to about 150 A.D., and Ajantâ, where some of the cave paintings are thought to be as late as the sixth century. But of neither site can we give any continuous history. In southern India the introduction of Buddhism took place under the auspices of Asoka himself, though his inscriptions have as yet been found only in northern Mysore and not in the Tamil country. The Tamil poems Manimêgalei and Silappadigaram, especially the former, represent it as prevalent and still preserving much of its ancient simplicity. Even in later times when it had almost completely disappeared from southern India, occasional Buddhist temples were founded. Rajaraja endowed one at Negapatam about 1000 A.D. In 1055 a monastery was erected at Belgami in Mysore and a Buddhist town named Kalavati is mentioned as existing in that state in 1533.[266] But in spite of such survivals, even in the sixth century Buddhism could not compete in southern India with either Jainism or Hinduism and there are no traces of its existence in the Deccan after 1150.
In the previous chapter, I talked about the accounts of Indian Buddhism from the Chinese travelers, Hsüan Chuang and I-Ching. The latter openly laments the decline of the faith he observed in his lifetime (around 650-700 A.D.), but he traveled relatively little in India and provides less local information than earlier pilgrims. Hsüan Chuang, who described India between 629-645 A.D., is hesitant to acknowledge the decline, but his honest narrative reveals it. He only offers a favorable account for Bengal and the present United Provinces, where Buddhism thrived mainly due to Harsha's personal influence. In central and southern India, he tells us mostly about abandoned monasteries. It's evident that Buddhism was fading away, but it's less clear if it was ever truly the main religion in this area. In many regions, it didn’t fully win over the local population but rather set up fortresses and left garrisons. It's likely that the Buddhism in Andhra, Kalinga, and the south was represented by little more than those outposts. This included Amarâvati, where parts of the ruins date back to about 150 A.D., and Ajantâ, where some cave paintings might be from the sixth century. However, we can’t provide a continuous history for either site. In southern India, Buddhism was introduced under Asoka's leadership, although his inscriptions have only been found in northern Mysore and not in the Tamil region. The Tamil poems Manimêgalei and Silappadigaram, especially the former, depict Buddhism as widespread and still retaining much of its ancient simplicity. Even later, when it had nearly vanished from southern India, some Buddhist temples were established. Rajaraja funded one at Negapatam around 1000 A.D. In 1055, a monastery was built at Belgami in Mysore, and a Buddhist town called Kalavati is recorded to have existed in that state in 1533. But despite these remnants, even in the sixth century, Buddhism struggled to compete with Jainism or Hinduism in southern India, and after 1150, there were no signs of its presence in the Deccan.
For the Konkan, Maharashtra and Gujarat, Hsüan Chuang's statistics are fairly satisfactory. But in all this region the Sammitîya sect which apparently was nearer to Hinduism than the others was the most important. In Ujjain Buddhism [109]was almost extinct but in many of the western states it lingered on, perhaps only in isolated monasteries, until the twelfth century. Inscriptions found at Kanheri (843 and 851 A.D.), Dambal (1095 A.D.) and in Miraj (1110 A.D.) testify that grants were made to monasteries at these late dates.[267] But further north the faith had to endure the violence of strangers. Sind was conquered by the Arabs in 712; Gujarat and the surrounding country were invaded by northern tribes and such invasions were always inimical to the prosperity of monasteries.
For the Konkan, Maharashtra, and Gujarat, Hsüan Chuang's statistics are quite convincing. However, in this region, the Sammitîya sect, which seemed closer to Hinduism than the others, was the most significant. In Ujjain, Buddhism [109]was nearly wiped out, but in many of the western states, it continued to exist, possibly only in isolated monasteries, until the twelfth century. Inscriptions discovered at Kanheri (843 and 851 A.D.), Dambal (1095 A.D.), and Miraj (1110 A.D.) indicate that donations were made to monasteries at these later times.[267] However, further north, the faith had to face the violence of outsiders. Sind was conquered by the Arabs in 712; Gujarat and the nearby areas were invaded by northern tribes, and such invasions were always harmful to the well-being of monasteries.
This is even more true of the Panjab, the frontier provinces and Kashmir. The older invaders such as the Yüeh-chih had been favourably disposed to Buddhism, but those who came later, such as the Huns, were predaceous barbarians with little religion of any sort. In Hsüan Chuang's time it was only in Udyana that Buddhism could be said to be the religion of the people and the torrent of Mohammedan invasion which swept continuously through these countries during the middle ages overwhelmed all earlier religions, and even Hinduism had to yield. In Kashmir Buddhism soon became corrupt and according to the Râjataranginî[268] the monks began to marry as early as the sixth century. King Lâlitâditya (733-769) is credited with having built monasteries as well as temples to the Sun, but his successors were Sivaites.
This is even more true for Punjab, the frontier provinces, and Kashmir. The earlier invaders like the Yüeh-chih were generally supportive of Buddhism, but the later ones, like the Huns, were ruthless barbarians with little regard for religion of any kind. During Hsüan Chuang's time, Buddhism was mainly recognized as the religion of the people only in Udyana, while the wave of Muslim invasions that continuously swept through these regions in the Middle Ages overwhelmed all earlier religions, forcing even Hinduism to adapt. In Kashmir, Buddhism quickly became corrupt, and according to the Râjataranginî[268], monks began to marry as early as the sixth century. King Lâlitâditya (733-769) is credited with building monasteries as well as temples to the Sun, but his successors followed the Shaiva tradition.
Bengal, especially western Bengal and Bihar, was the stronghold of decadent Buddhism, though even here hostile influences were not absent. But about 730 A.D. a pious Buddhist named Gopâla founded the Pâla dynasty and extended his power over Magadha. The Pâlas ruled for about 450 years and supplied a long and devout line of defenders of the faith. But to the east of their dominions lay the principality of Kanauj, a state of varying size and fortunes and from the eighth century onwards a stronghold of Brahmanic learning.
Bengal, especially western Bengal and Bihar, was the center of declining Buddhism, although there were always opposing influences present. Around 730 A.D., a devout Buddhist named Gopâla established the Pâla dynasty and expanded his influence over Magadha. The Pâlas ruled for about 450 years, providing a long line of devoted defenders of the faith. However, to the east of their territory was the principality of Kanauj, a state that fluctuated in size and success and became a stronghold of Brahmanic learning from the eighth century onwards.
The revolution in Hinduism which definitely defeated, though it did not annihilate Buddhism, is generally connected with the names of Kumâriḷa Bhatta (c. 750) and Śaṅkara (c. 800). We know the doctrines of these teachers, for many of their works have come down to us, but when we enquire what was their political importance, or the scope and extent of the [110] movement which they championed we are conscious (as so often) of the extraordinary vagueness of Indian records even when the subject might appeal to religious and philosophic minds.[269] Kumâriḷa is said to have been a Brahman of Bihar who abjured Buddhism for Hinduism and raged with the ardour of a proselyte against his ancient faith. Tradition[270] represents him as instigating King Sudhanvan to exterminate the Buddhists. But nothing is known of this king and he cannot have had the extensive empire with which he is credited.
The transformation in Hinduism that ultimately defeated, although did not completely erase, Buddhism is generally associated with the names of Kumāriḷa Bhatta (circa 750) and Śaṅkara (circa 800). We have access to the teachings of these thinkers, as many of their works still survive; however, when we look into their political significance or the reach and impact of the movement they led, we often find the records from India remarkably vague, even when the topic might engage those interested in religion and philosophy. Kumāriḷa is said to have been a Brahman from Bihar who rejected Buddhism in favor of Hinduism and passionately campaigned against his former faith. Tradition suggests that he urged King Sudhanvan to wipe out the Buddhists. Yet, there is no information available about this king, and he likely did not possess the vast empire attributed to him.
Śaṅkara was a Brahman of the south who in a short life found time to write numerous works, to wander over India, to found a monastic order and build four monasteries. In doctrine and discipline he was more pliant than Kumâriḷa and he assimilated many strong points of Buddhism. Both these teachers are depicted as the successful heroes of public disputations in which the interest at stake was considerable. The vanquished had to become a disciple of the vanquisher or to forfeit his life and, if he was the head of an institution, to surrender its property. These accounts, though exaggerated, are probably a florid version of what occurred and we may surmise that the popular faith of the day was generally victorious. What violence the rising tide of Hinduism may have wrought, it is hard to say. There is no evidence of any general persecution of Buddhism in the sense in which one Christian sect persecuted another in Europe. But at a rather later date we hear that Jains were persecuted and tortured by Śaiva princes both in southern India and Gujarat, and if there were any detailed account, epigraphic or literary, of such persecutions in the eighth and ninth centuries, there would be no reason for doubting it. But no details are forthcoming. Without resorting to massacre, an anti-Buddhist king had in his power many effective methods of hostility. He might confiscate or transfer monastic property, or forbid his subjects to support monks. Considering the state of Buddhism as represented by Hsüan Chuang and I-Ching it is probable that such measures would suffice to ensure the triumph of the Brahmans in most parts of India.
Śaṅkara was a Brahmin from the south who, despite his short life, managed to write many works, travel across India, establish a monastic order, and build four monasteries. In terms of doctrine and discipline, he was more adaptable than Kumārilā and incorporated several strong aspects of Buddhism. Both of these teachers are portrayed as the accomplished champions of public debates where significant stakes were involved. The losers had to either become a disciple of the winner or give up their lives, and if they were the heads of institutions, they had to relinquish their property. Although these accounts may be exaggerated, they likely represent a dramatic version of what actually happened, and we can assume that the prevailing belief of the time generally triumphed. It’s difficult to determine the extent of any violence brought on by the growing influence of Hinduism. There is no evidence of widespread persecution of Buddhism akin to the conflicts between Christian sects in Europe. However, later reports indicate that Jains faced persecution and torture by Śaiva rulers both in southern India and Gujarat, and if there were any comprehensive accounts—whether through inscriptions or literature—about such persecutions during the eighth and ninth centuries, we would have no reason to doubt them. Unfortunately, no specifics are available. Without resorting to mass slaughter, an anti-Buddhist king had several effective ways to show hostility. He could seize or reallocate monastic property or prohibit his subjects from supporting monks. Considering the state of Buddhism as described by Hsüan Chuang and I-Ching, it’s likely that such actions would be enough to secure the dominance of the Brahmins in most regions of India.
After the epoch of Śaṅkara, the history of Indian Buddhism is confined to the Pâla kingdom. Elsewhere we hear only of isolated grants to monasteries and similar acts of piety, often striking but hardly worthy of mention in comparison with the enormous number of Brahmanic inscriptions. But in the Pâla kingdom[271] Buddhism, though corrupt, was flourishing so far as the number of its adherents and royal favour were concerned. Gopâla founded the monastery of Odontapuri or Udandapura, which according to some authorities was in the town of Bihar. Dharmapâla the second king of the dynasty (c. 800 A.D.) built on the north bank of the Ganges the even more celebrated University of Vikramaśila,[272] where many commentaries were composed. It was a centre not only of tantric learning but of logic and grammar, and is interesting as showing the connection between Bengal and Tibet. Tibetans studied there and Sanskrit books were translated into Tibetan within its cloisters. Dharmapâla is said to have reigned sixty-four years and to have held his court at Patna, which had fallen into decay but now began to revive. According to Târanâtha his successor Devapâla built Somapuri, conquered Orissa and waged war with the unbelievers who had become numerous, no doubt as a result of the preaching of Śaṅkara. But as a rule the Pâlas, though they favoured Buddhism, did not actively discourage Hinduism. They even gave grants to Hindu temples and their prime ministers were generally Brahmans who[273] used to erect non-Buddhist images in Buddhist shrines. The dynasty continued through the eleventh century and in this period some information as to the condition of Indian Buddhism is afforded by the relations between Bengal and Tibet. After the persecution of the tenth century Tibetan Buddhism was revived by the preaching of monks from Bengal. Mahîpâla then occupied the throne (c. 978-1030) and during his reign various learned men accepted invitations [112] to Tibet. More celebrated is the mission of Atîsa, a monk of the Vikramaśila monastery, which took place about 1038. That these two missions should have been invited and despatched shows that in the eleventh century Bengal was a centre of Buddhist learning. Probably the numerous Sanskrit works preserved in Tibetan translations then existed in its monasteries. But about the same time the power of the Pâla dynasty, and with it the influence of Buddhism, were curtailed by the establishment of the rival Sena dynasty in the eastern provinces. Still, under Râmapâla, who reigned about 1100, the great teacher Abhayakara was an ornament of the Mahayana. Târanâtha[274] says that he corrected the text of the scriptures and that in his time there were many Pandits and resident Bhikshus in the monasteries of Vikramasîla, Bodh-Gaya and Odontapuri.
After Śaṅkara’s time, the history of Indian Buddhism is mainly focused on the Pâla kingdom. In other regions, we only find scattered donations to monasteries and acts of piety that, while notable, are insignificant compared to the large number of Brahmanic inscriptions. However, in the Pâla kingdom, Buddhism, even if somewhat corrupt, was thriving due to its followers and royal support. Gopâla established the monastery of Odontapuri or Udandapura, believed by some to be in Bihar. Dharmapâla, the second king of the dynasty (around 800 A.D.), constructed the renowned University of Vikramaśila on the north bank of the Ganges, where many commentaries were written. It became a hub for tantric studies as well as logic and grammar, illustrating the connection between Bengal and Tibet. Tibetans studied there, and Sanskrit texts were translated into Tibetan within its walls. Dharmapâla is said to have ruled for sixty-four years and held his court at Patna, which had fallen into decline but was beginning to revive. According to Târanâtha, his successor Devapâla built Somapuri, conquered Orissa, and fought against the growing number of non-believers, likely due to Śaṅkara’s teachings. Generally, the Pâlas, although supportive of Buddhism, did not actively suppress Hinduism. They even provided funding for Hindu temples, and their prime ministers were usually Brahmans who often placed non-Buddhist images in Buddhist shrines. The dynasty persisted into the eleventh century, and during this time, the relationships between Bengal and Tibet offered some insights into the state of Indian Buddhism. After the persecution in the tenth century, Tibetan Buddhism was revitalized by monks from Bengal. Mahîpâla then ascended the throne (around 978-1030), and during his reign, several scholars were invited to Tibet. The most notable mission was that of Atîsa, a monk from the Vikramaśila monastery, which occurred around 1038. The invitation and dispatch of these missions indicate that in the eleventh century, Bengal was a center of Buddhist scholarship. It’s likely that many Sanskrit works preserved in Tibetan translations were already housed in its monasteries. However, around this time, the power of the Pâla dynasty, along with the influence of Buddhism, began to wane due to the rise of the Sena dynasty in the eastern provinces. Nevertheless, under Râmapâla, who ruled around 1100, the great teacher Abhayakara was a notable figure in Mahayana Buddhism. Târanâtha mentions that he revised the scripture texts and that during his time, many Pandits and resident Bhikshus were present in the monasteries of Vikramasîla, Bodh-Gaya, and Odontapuri.
There is thus every reason to suppose that in the twelfth century Buddhism still nourished in Bihar, that its clergy numbered several thousands and its learning was held in esteem. The blow which destroyed its power was struck by a Mohammedan invasion in 1193. In that year Ikhtiyar-ud-Din Muhammad,[275] a general of Kutb-ud-Din, invaded Bihar with a band of only two hundred men and with amazing audacity seized the capital, which, consisting chiefly of palaces and monasteries, collapsed without a blow. The monks were massacred to a man, and when the victors, who appear not to have understood what manner of place they had captured, asked the meaning of the libraries which they saw, no one was found capable of reading the books.[276] It was in 1193 also that Benares was conquered by the Mohammedans. I have found no record of the sack of the monastery at Sarnath but the ruins are said to show traces of fire and other indications that it was overwhelmed by some sudden disaster.
There is every reason to believe that in the twelfth century, Buddhism was still thriving in Bihar, with its clergy numbering in the thousands and its knowledge being highly regarded. The blow that destroyed its influence was dealt by a Muslim invasion in 1193. In that year, Ikhtiyar-ud-Din Muhammad,[275] a general of Kutb-ud-Din, invaded Bihar with only two hundred men and, with astonishing boldness, took the capital, which was mainly made up of palaces and monasteries, without facing any resistance. The monks were killed en masse, and when the conquerors, who seemed not to realize what kind of place they had captured, inquired about the libraries they found, no one was able to read the books.[276] It was also in 1193 that the Muslims took control of Benares. I haven’t found any records of the plundering of the monastery at Sarnath, but the ruins are said to show signs of fire and other evidence that it was struck by some sudden catastrophe.
The Mohammedans had no special animus against Buddhism. They were iconoclasts who saw merit in the destruction of images and the slaughter of idolaters. But whereas Hinduism was spread over the country, Buddhism was concentrated in [113] the great monasteries and when these were destroyed there remained nothing outside them capable of withstanding either the violence of the Moslims or the assimilative influence of the Brahmans. Hence Buddhism suffered far more from these invasions than Hinduism but still vestiges of it lingered long[277] and exist even now in Orissa. Târanâtha says that the immediate result of the Moslim conquest was the dispersal of the surviving teachers and this may explain the sporadic occurrence of late Buddhist inscriptions in other parts of India. He also tells us that a king named Cangalarâja restored the ruined Buddhist temples of Bengal about 1450. Elsewhere[278] he gives a not discouraging picture of Buddhism in the Deccan, Gujarat and Rajputana after the Moslim conquest of Magadha but adds that the study of magic became more and more prevalent. In the life of Caitanya it is stated that when travelling in southern India (about 1510 A.D.) he argued with Buddhists and confuted them, apparently somewhere in Arcot.[279] Manuscripts preserved in Nepal indicate that as late as the fifteenth or sixteenth century Bengali copyists wrote out Buddhist works, and there is evidence that Bodh-Gaya continued to be a place of pilgrimage. In 1585 it was visited by a Nepalese named Abhaya Râjâ who on his return erected in Patan a monastery imitated from what he had seen in Bengal, and in 1777 the Tashi Lama sent an embassy. But such instances prove little as to the religion of the surrounding Hindu population, for at the present day numerous Buddhist pilgrims, especially Burmese, frequent the shrine. The control of the temple passed into the hands of the Brahmans and for the ordinary Bengali Buddha became a member of India's numerous pantheon. Pandit Harapraśad Sastri mentions a singular poem called Buddhacaritra, completed in 1711 and celebrating an incarnation of Buddha which apparently commenced in 1699 and was to end in the reappearance of the golden age. But the being called Buddha is a form of Vishṇu and the work is as strange a jumble of religion as it is [114] of languages, being written in "a curious medley of bad Sanskrit, bad Hindi and bad Bihari."
The Muslims didn't have anything personal against Buddhism. They were known to destroy images and eliminate idol worship, believing it was worthwhile. However, while Hinduism was widespread across the country, Buddhism was mostly found in the major monasteries. Once these were destroyed, nothing remained that could withstand the attacks from the Muslims or the assimilating influence of the Brahmins. As a result, Buddhism suffered much more from these invasions than Hinduism did, though remnants of it lingered for a long time and still exist today in Orissa. Târanâtha notes that the immediate result of the Muslim conquest was the scattering of the remaining teachers, which could explain the sporadic late Buddhist inscriptions found in other parts of India. He also mentions that a king named Cangalarâja restored the ruined Buddhist temples of Bengal around 1450. In other regions, he provides a relatively optimistic view of Buddhism in the Deccan, Gujarat, and Rajputana after the Muslim conquest of Magadha, but points out that the study of magic became increasingly common. The life of Caitanya states that during his travels in southern India (around 1510 A.D.), he debated with Buddhists and refuted their beliefs, presumably somewhere in Arcot. Manuscripts preserved in Nepal suggest that as late as the fifteenth or sixteenth century, Bengali copyists were still writing Buddhist texts, and there's evidence that Bodh-Gaya remained a pilgrimage site. In 1585, a Nepalese named Abhaya Râjâ visited, and upon returning, built a monastery in Patan modeled after what he had seen in Bengal, and in 1777, the Tashi Lama sent an embassy. However, these instances don't say much about the religion of the surrounding Hindu population, as today many Buddhist pilgrims, particularly from Burma, visit the shrine. The control of the temple shifted to the Brahmins, and for the average Bengali, Buddha became just one of many deities in India's extensive pantheon. Pandit Harapraśad Sastri mentions a unique poem called Buddhacaritra, completed in 1711, which celebrates a reincarnation of Buddha that apparently started in 1699 and is meant to culminate in the return of a golden age. But the figure referred to as Buddha is viewed as a form of Vishṇu, and the work is an odd mix of religions, as well as languages, written in "a strange combination of poor Sanskrit, poor Hindi, and poor Bihari."
It is chiefly in Orissa that traces of Buddhism can still be found within the limits of India proper. The Saraks of Baramba, Tigaria and the adjoining parts of Cuttack describe themselves as Buddhists.[280] Their name is the modern equivalent of Śrâvaka and they apparently represent an ancient Buddhist community which has become a sectarian caste. They have little knowledge of their religion but meet once a year in the cave temples of Khandagiri, to worship a deity called Buddhadeva or Caturbhuja. All their ceremonies commence with the formula Ahiṃsâ parama dharma and they respect the temple of Puri, which is suspected of having a Buddhist origin.
It is mainly in Orissa that traces of Buddhism can still be found within the borders of India. The Saraks of Baramba, Tigaria, and the nearby areas of Cuttack identify themselves as Buddhists.[280] Their name is the modern equivalent of Śrâvaka, and they seem to represent an ancient Buddhist community that has evolved into a sectarian caste. They have limited knowledge of their religion but gather once a year in the cave temples of Khandagiri to worship a deity called Buddhadeva or Caturbhuja. All their ceremonies begin with the phrase Ahiṃsâ parama dharma, and they have respect for the temple of Puri, which is believed to have a Buddhist origin.
Nagendranâth Vasu has published some interesting details as to the survival of Buddhist ideas in Orissa.[281] He traces the origin of this hardy though degraded form of Mahayanism to Râmâi Pandit,[282] a tantric Âcârya of Magadha who wrote a work called Śûnya Purâṇa which became popular. Orissa was one of the regions which offered the longest resistance to Islam, for it did not succumb until 1568. A period of Śivaism in the tenth and eleventh centuries is indicated by the temples of Bhuvaneshwar and other monuments. But in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries the reigning dynasty were worshippers of Vishnu and built the great temples at Puri and Konârak, dedicated to Jagannâtha and Sûrya-nârâyaṇa respectively. We do not however hear that they persecuted Buddhism and there are reasons for thinking that Jagannâtha is a form of the Buddha[283] and that the temple at Puri was originally a Buddhist site. [115] It is said that it contains a gigantic statue of the Buddha before which a wall has been built and also that the image of Jagannâtha, which is little more than a log of wood, is really a case enclosing a Buddhist relic. King Pratâparudra († 1529) persecuted Buddhism, which implies that at this late date its adherents were sufficiently numerous to attract attention. Either at the beginning of his reign or before it there flourished a group of six poets of whom the principal were Acyutânanda Dâsa and Caitanya Dâsa.[284] Their works are nominally devoted to the celebration of Kṛishṇa's praises and form the chief vernacular scripture of the Vaishṇavas in Orissa but in them Kṛishṇa, or the highest form of the deity by whatever name he is called, is constantly identified with Śûnya or the Void, that favourite term of Mahayanist philosophy. Passages from them are also quoted stating that in the Kali age the followers of the Buddha must disguise themselves; that there are 3000 crypto-Buddhists hidden in various parts of Orissa, that Hari has been incarnate in many Buddhas and that the Buddha will appear again on earth. The phrase "I take refuge in the Buddha, in Mâtâ Âdiśakti (= Dharma) and in the Sangha" is also quoted from these works and Caitanya Dâsa describes five Vishnus, who are apparently identical with the five Dhyâni Buddhas.[285]
Nagendranâth Vasu has shared some intriguing information about the survival of Buddhist ideas in Orissa.[281] He traces this resilient yet diminished form of Mahayanism back to Râmâi Pandit,[282] a tantric teacher from Magadha who authored a work called Śûnya Purâṇa that gained popularity. Orissa was one of the regions that resisted Islam for the longest time, holding out until 1568. The period of Śivaism in the tenth and eleventh centuries is marked by the temples of Bhuvaneshwar and other monuments. However, in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, the ruling dynasty worshipped Vishnu and constructed the grand temples at Puri and Konârak, dedicated to Jagannâtha and Sûrya-nârâyaṇa respectively. It is worth noting that there are no records of them persecuting Buddhism, and some believe that Jagannâtha represents a form of the Buddha[283] and that the temple at Puri was originally a Buddhist location. [115] There are claims that it houses a massive statue of the Buddha, which is now concealed behind a wall, and that the image of Jagannâtha, which is essentially just a wooden log, actually encases a Buddhist relic. King Pratâparudra († 1529) persecuted Buddhism, suggesting that by this later date, its followers were significant enough to draw attention. Either at the beginning of his reign or beforehand, there was a group of six poets, the most notable being Acyutânanda Dâsa and Caitanya Dâsa.[284] Their writings are primarily focused on celebrating Kṛishṇa and constitute the main vernacular scripture for the Vaishṇavas in Orissa, but within these texts, Kṛishṇa, or the highest form of the deity by any name, is frequently equated with Śûnya or the Void, a favored concept in Mahayanist philosophy. They also include passages indicating that during the Kali age, followers of the Buddha must keep a low profile; that there are 3000 crypto-Buddhists hiding in various parts of Orissa; that Hari has incarnated in many Buddhas; and that the Buddha will return to earth. The phrase "I take refuge in the Buddha, in Mâtâ Âdiśakti (Dharma), and in the Sangha" is also cited in these works, and Caitanya Dâsa outlines five Vishnus, who are seemingly the same as the five Dhyâni Buddhas.[285]
Târanâtha states that the last king of Orissa, Mukunda Deva, who was overthrown by the Mohammedans in 1568, was a Buddhist and founded some temples and monasteries. In the seventeenth century, there flourished a Buddhist poet named Mahâdevadâsa,[286] and the Tibetan pilgrim Buddhagupta visited among other sites the old capital of Mayurabhanja and saw a stupa there. It is claimed that the tribe known as Bâthuris or Bâuris have always been crypto-Buddhists and have preserved their ancient customs. They are however no credit to their religion, for one of their principal ceremonies is hook-swinging.[287]
Târanâtha mentions that the last king of Orissa, Mukunda Deva, who was overthrown by the Muslims in 1568, was a Buddhist and established several temples and monasteries. In the seventeenth century, a Buddhist poet named Mahâdevadâsa thrived, and the Tibetan pilgrim Buddhagupta visited various locations, including the old capital of Mayurabhanja, where he saw a stupa. It's said that the tribe known as Bâthuris or Bâuris has always been crypto-Buddhists, maintaining their ancient customs. However, they do not bring much honor to their faith, as one of their main ceremonies involves hook-swinging.
The doctrine of the Bâthuris is called Mahimâ Dharma and experienced an interesting revival in 1875.[288] A blind man named Bhîma Bhoi had a vision of the Buddha who restored his sight [116] and bade him preach the law. He attracted some thousands of adherents and led a band to Puri proclaiming that his mission was to bring to light the statue of Buddha concealed in the temple. The Raja resisted the attempt and the followers of Bhîma Bhoi were worsted in a sanguinary encounter. Since that time they have retired to the more remote districts of Orissa and are said to hold that the Buddha will appear again in a new incarnation. They are also called Kumbhipatias and according to the last census of India (1911) are hostile to Brahmans and probably number about 25,000.
The belief system of the Bâthuris is known as Mahimâ Dharma and saw an interesting revival in 1875.[288] A blind man named Bhîma Bhoi had a vision of the Buddha, who restored his sight [116] and instructed him to share the teachings. He gained thousands of followers and led a group to Puri, claiming his mission was to uncover a statue of Buddha hidden in the temple. The Raja opposed this effort, and the followers of Bhîma Bhoi suffered a brutal defeat in a violent confrontation. Since then, they have withdrawn to the more secluded areas of Orissa and are believed to await the Buddha's return in a new incarnation. They are also referred to as Kumbhipatias and, according to the last census in India (1911), they are opposed to Brahmans and likely number around 25,000.
Traces of Buddhism also survive in the worship of a deity called Dharma-Râjâ or Dharma-Thakur which still prevails in western and southern Bengal.[289] Priests of this worship are usually not Brahmans but of low caste, and Haraprasad thinks that the laity who follow it may number "several millions." Though Dharma has come to be associated with the goddess of smallpox and is believed even by his adorers to be a form of Vishnu or of Śiva, yet Dhyâna, or meditation, forms a part of his worship and the prayers and literature of the sect retain some traces of his origin. Thus he is said to be highly honoured in Ceylon and receives the epithet Śûnyamûrti.
Traces of Buddhism can still be seen in the worship of a deity known as Dharma-Râjâ or Dharma-Thakur, which is still practiced in western and southern Bengal.[289] The priests who lead this worship are typically not Brahmans but come from lower castes, and Haraprasad believes that the lay followers may number "several millions." Although Dharma is now linked to the goddess of smallpox and is thought by his worshippers to be a form of Vishnu or Shiva, meditation (Dhyâna) is also part of his worship, and the prayers and literature of the sect still show some signs of his origins. He is said to be highly revered in Ceylon and is referred to as Śûnyamûrti.
A corrupt form of Buddhism still exists in Nepal.[290] This country when first heard of was in the hands of the Nevars who have preserved some traditions of a migration from the north and are akin to the Tibetans in race and language, though like many non-Aryan tribes they have endeavoured to invent for themselves a Hindu pedigree. Buddhism was introduced under Asoka. As Indian influence was strong and communication with Tirhut and Bengal easy, it is probable that Buddhism in Nepal reflected the phases which it underwent in Bengal. A Nepalese inscription of the seventh century gives a list of shrines of which seven are Śivaite, six Buddhist and four Vishnuite.[291] After that date it was more successful [117] in maintaining itself, for it did not suffer from Mohammedan attacks and was less exposed to the assimilative influence of Brahmanism. That influence however, though operating in a foreign country and on people not bred among Brahmanic traditions, was nevertheless strong. In 1324 the king of Tirhut, being expelled thence by Mohammedans, seized the throne of Nepal and brought with him many learned Brahmans. His dynasty was not permanent but later in the fourteenth century a subsequent ruler, Jayasthiti, organized society and religion in consultation with the Brahman immigrants. The followers of the two religions were arranged in parallel divisions, a group of Buddhists classified according to occupation corresponding to each Hindu caste, and appropriate rules and ceremonies were prescribed for the different sections. The code then established is still in force in essentials and Nepal, being intellectually the pupil of India, has continued to receive such new ideas as appeared in the plains of Bengal. When these ascended to the mountain valleys they were adopted, with free modification of old and new material alike, by both Buddhists and Hindus, but as both sects were geographically isolated, each tended to resemble the other more than either resembled normal Buddhism or Hinduism. Naturally the new ideas were mainly Brahmanic and Buddhism had no chance of being fortified by an importation of even moderately orthodox doctrine. In the fourteenth century arose the community of wandering ascetics called Nâthas who were reverenced by Hindus and Buddhists alike. They rejected the observances of both creeds but often combined their doctrines and, though disavowed by the Brahmans, exercised a considerable influence among the lower castes. Some of the peculiar deities of Nepal, such as Matsyendranâth, have attributes traceable to these wanderers. In 1769 Nepal was conquered by the Gurkhas. This tribe seems related to the Tibetan stock, as are the Nevars, but it had long been Hinduized and claimed a Rajput ancestry. Thus Gurkha rule has favoured and accelerated the hinduizing of Nepalese Buddhism.
A corrupt version of Buddhism still exists in Nepal.[290] This country, when first known, was controlled by the Nevars, who have preserved some traditions of migration from the north and are related to the Tibetans in both race and language. However, like many non-Aryan tribes, they have tried to create a Hindu ancestry for themselves. Buddhism was introduced during Asoka's reign. With strong Indian influence and easy communication with Tirhut and Bengal, it's likely that Buddhism in Nepal reflected the developments it went through in Bengal. A Nepalese inscription from the seventh century lists shrines, of which seven are Śivaite, six are Buddhist, and four are Vishnuite.[291] After that time, Buddhism was more successful [117] in sustaining itself, as it did not suffer from Muslim attacks and was less influenced by Brahmanism. However, that influence, even though it was in a foreign country and on people not raised with Brahmanic traditions, was still strong. In 1324, the king of Tirhut, expelled by Muslims, took over the throne of Nepal and brought with him many learned Brahmans. His dynasty was not permanent, but later in the fourteenth century, a subsequent ruler, Jayasthiti, organized society and religion in collaboration with the Brahman immigrants. Followers of the two religions were arranged in parallel groups, with a set of Buddhists organized by occupation corresponding to the different Hindu castes, and appropriate rules and ceremonies were prescribed for each section. The code established then is still largely in effect, and since Nepal is intellectually a student of India, it has continued to incorporate new ideas that emerged in the plains of Bengal. When these ideas reached the mountain valleys, they were adopted, with significant modifications of both old and new elements, by both Buddhists and Hindus. However, since both sects were geographically isolated, each began to resemble the other more than either resembled traditional Buddhism or Hinduism. Naturally, the new ideas were primarily Brahmanic, and Buddhism faced little chance of being strengthened by any introduction of even moderately orthodox teachings. In the fourteenth century, a community of wandering ascetics known as Nâthas emerged, who were respected by both Hindus and Buddhists. They rejected the practices of both religions but often combined their teachings and, although rejected by the Brahmans, had a significant impact among the lower castes. Some of the unique deities of Nepal, such as Matsyendranâth, have attributes that can be traced back to these wanderers. In 1769, Nepal was conquered by the Gurkhas. This tribe appears to be related to the Tibetan lineage, similar to the Nevars, but it had long been influenced by Hinduism and claimed a Rajput ancestry. As a result, Gurkha rule has promoted and sped up the hinduization of Nepalese Buddhism.
Since the time of Hodgson the worship of the Âdi-Buddha, or an original divine Buddha practically equivalent to God, has been often described as characteristic of Nepalese religion and such a worship undoubtedly exists. But recent accounts indicate that it is not prominent and also that it can hardly be [118] considered a distinct type of monotheistic Buddhism. The idea that the five Dhyâni-Buddhas are emanations or manifestations of a single primordial Buddha-spirit is a natural development of Mahayanist ideas, but no definite statement of it earlier than the Kâlacakra literature is forthcoming, though many earlier works point towards it.[292] In modern Nepal the chief temple of the Âdi-Buddha is on the hill of Svayambhû (the self-existent) near Katmandu. According to a legend preserved in the Svayambhû Purâṇa, a special divine manifestation occurred in ancient times on an adjoining lake; a miraculous lotus arose on its surface, bearing an image, over which a Caitya was subsequently erected. The shrine is greatly venerated but this Âdi-Buddha, or Svayambhû, does not differ essentially from other miraculous images in India which are said not to consist of ordinary matter but to embody in some special way the nature of a deity. The religion of Nepal is less remarkable for new developments of Buddhism than for the singular fusion of Buddhism with Hinduism which it presents and which helps us to understand what must have been the last phase in Bengal.
Since Hodgson's time, the worship of the Âdi-Buddha, or an original divine Buddha comparable to God, has often been highlighted as a hallmark of Nepalese religion, and such worship does exist. However, recent accounts suggest that it is not a central practice and can hardly be considered a distinct form of monotheistic Buddhism. The concept that the five Dhyâni-Buddhas are emanations or manifestations of a single primordial Buddha-spirit naturally develops from Mahayanist ideas, but there isn’t a clear statement of it before the Kâlacakra literature, although many earlier texts hint at it.[292] In modern Nepal, the main temple dedicated to the Âdi-Buddha is located on the hill of Svayambhû (the self-existent) near Kathmandu. According to a legend in the Svayambhû Purâṇa, a unique divine manifestation took place in ancient times on a nearby lake; a miraculous lotus rose to the surface, holding an image, over which a Caitya was later built. The shrine is highly revered, but this Âdi-Buddha, or Svayambhû, isn’t fundamentally different from other miraculous images in India that are said to transcend ordinary matter and embody, in some special way, the essence of a deity. The religion of Nepal stands out less for new developments in Buddhism than for the unique blending of Buddhism with Hinduism, which offers insight into what must have been the last phase in Bengal.
The Nepalese Brahmans tolerate Buddhism. The Nepâla-mâhâtmya says that to worship Buddha is to worship Śiva, and the Svayambhû Purâna returns the compliment by recommending the worship of Paśupati.[293] The official itinerary of the Hindu pilgrim includes Svayambhû, where he adores Buddha under that name. More often the two religions adore the same image under different names: what is Avalokita to the one is Mahâkâla to the other. Durgâ is explained as being the incarnation of the Prajñâ-pâramitâ and she is even identified with the Âdi-Buddha. The Nepalese pantheon like the Tibetan contains three elements, often united in modern legends: firstly aboriginal deities, such as Nagas and other nature spirits: secondly definitely Buddhist deities or Bodhisattvas of whom Mañjuśrî receives the most honour: thirdly Hindu deities such as Gaṇeśa and Kṛishṇa. The popular deity Matsyendranath appears to combine all three elements in his own person.
The Nepalese Brahmins accept Buddhism. The Nepâla-mâhâtmya states that worshiping Buddha is the same as worshiping Śiva, and the Svayambhû Purâna acknowledges this by suggesting the worship of Paśupati.[293] The official route for Hindu pilgrims includes Svayambhû, where they honor Buddha under that name. More often, the two religions worship the same figure under different names: what one calls Avalokita, the other calls Mahâkâla. Durgâ is interpreted as the embodiment of the Prajñâ-pâramitâ and is even associated with the Âdi-Buddha. The Nepalese pantheon, like the Tibetan, includes three elements, often combined in modern legends: firstly, indigenous deities like Nagas and other nature spirits; secondly, clearly Buddhist deities or Bodhisattvas, with Mañjuśrî being the most revered; thirdly, Hindu deities such as Gaṇeśa and Kṛishṇa. The popular deity Matsyendranath seems to incorporate all three of these elements within himself.
Modern accounts of Nepal leave the impression that even [119] corrupt Buddhism is in a bad way, yet the number of religious establishments is considerable. Celibacy is not observed by their inmates, who are called banras (bandyas). On entering the order the novice takes the ancient vows but after four days he returns to his tutor, confesses that they are too hard for him and is absolved from his obligations. The classes known as Bhikshus and Gubhârjus officiate as priests, the latter being the higher order. The principal ceremony is the offering of melted butter. The more learned Gubhârjus receive the title of Vajrâcârya[294] and have the sole right of officiating at marriages and funerals.
Modern descriptions of Nepal suggest that even [119] corrupt Buddhism is struggling, yet there are still many religious institutions. The monks, known as banras (bandyas), do not adhere to celibacy. When a novice joins the order, he takes the traditional vows but after four days returns to his teacher, admits they are too difficult for him, and is released from his commitments. The groups called Bhikshus and Gubhârjus serve as priests, with Gubhârjus being the higher rank. The main ritual involves the offering of melted butter. The more knowledgeable Gubhârjus are given the title of Vajrâcârya[294] and have exclusive rights to conduct marriages and funerals.
There is little learning. The oldest scriptures in use are the so-called nine Dharmas.[295] Hodgson describes these works as much venerated and Rajendralal Mitra has analysed them, but Sylvain Lévi heard little of them in 1898, though he mentions the recitation of the Prajñâ-pâramitâ. The Svayambhû Purâṇa is an account of the manifestation of the Âdi-Buddha written in the style of those portions of the Brahmanic Purâṇas which treat of the glories of some sacred place. In its present form it can hardly be earlier than the sixteenth century A.D. The Nepâla-mâhâtmya is a similar work which, though of Brahmanic origin, puts Buddha, Vishnu and Śiva on the same footing and identifies the first with Krishna. The Vâgvatî-mâhâtmya[296] on the other hand is strictly Śivaite and ignores Buddha's claims to worship. The Vâmśâvali, or Chronicle of Nepal, written in the Gurkha language (Parbatiya) is also largely occupied with an account of sacred sites and buildings and exists in two versions, one Buddhist, the other Brahmanical.
There is little knowledge available. The oldest scriptures in use are the nine Dharmas.[295] Hodgson describes these texts as highly respected, and Rajendralal Mitra has analyzed them, but Sylvain Lévi noted in 1898 that he heard little about them, although he did mention the recitation of the Prajñâ-pâramitâ. The Svayambhû Purâṇa tells the story of the manifestation of the Âdi-Buddha, written in a style similar to parts of the Brahmanic Purâṇas that discuss the greatness of various sacred places. In its current form, it likely dates no earlier than the sixteenth century A.D. The Nepâla-mâhâtmya is another work that, despite being of Brahmanic origin, places Buddha, Vishnu, and Śiva on equal ground and equates Buddha with Krishna. The Vâgvatî-mâhâtmya[296] on the other hand, is strictly dedicated to Śiva and dismisses Buddha's claims to worship. The Vâmśâvali, or Chronicle of Nepal, written in the Gurkha language (Parbatiya), also focuses mainly on the description of sacred sites and buildings and exists in two versions: one Buddhist and the other Brahmanical.
But let us return to the decadence of Buddhism in India. It is plain that persecution was not its main cause nor even very important among the accessory causes. The available records contain clearer statements about the persecution of Jainism than of Buddhism but no doubt the latter came in for some rough handling, though not enough to annihilate a vigorous sect. Great numbers of monasteries in the north were demolished by the Huns and a similar catastrophe [120] brought about the collapse of the Church in Bihar. But this last incident cannot be called religious persecution, for Muhammad did not even know what he was destroying. Buddhism did not arouse more animosity than other Indian religions: the significant feature is that when its temples and monasteries were demolished it did not live on in the hearts of the people, as did Hinduism with all its faults.
But let's go back to the decline of Buddhism in India. It's clear that persecution wasn't its main cause or even a major contributing factor. The available records provide clearer accounts of the persecution of Jainism than of Buddhism, but there’s no doubt that Buddhism faced some serious challenges, though not enough to wipe out a strong sect. Many northern monasteries were destroyed by the Huns, and a similar disaster [120] led to the downfall of the Church in Bihar. However, this last event can’t really be called religious persecution, since Muhammad wasn't even aware of what he was destroying. Buddhism didn't provoke more hostility than other Indian religions: the important point is that when its temples and monasteries were destroyed, it didn't continue to live on in the hearts of the people, unlike Hinduism, with all its flaws.
The relation between the laity and the Church in Buddhism is curious and has had serious consequences for both good and evil. The layman "takes refuge" in the Buddha, his law and his church but does not swear exclusive allegiance: to follow supplementary observances is not treasonable, provided they are not in themselves objectionable. The Buddha prescribed no ceremonies for births, deaths and marriages and apparently expected the laity to continue in the observance of such rites as were in use. To-day in China and Japan the good layman is little more than one who pays more attention to Buddhism than to other faiths. This charitable pliancy had much to do with the victories of Buddhism in the Far East, where it had to struggle against strong prejudices and could hardly have made its way if it had been intolerant of local deities. But in India we see the disadvantages of the omission to make the laity members of a special corporation and the survival of the Jains, who do form such a corporation, is a clear object lesson. Social life in India tends to combine men in castes or in communities which if not castes in the technical sense have much the same character. Such communities have great vitality so long as they maintain their peculiar usages, but when they cease to do so they soon disintegrate and are reabsorbed. Buddhism from the first never took the form of a corporation. The special community which it instituted was the saṅgha or body of monks. Otherwise, it aimed not at founding a sect but at including all the world as lay believers on easy terms. This principle worked well so long as the faith was in the ascendent but its effect was disastrous when decline began. The line dividing Buddhist laymen from ordinary Hindus became less and less marked: distinctive teaching was found only in the monasteries: these became poorly recruited and as they were gradually deserted or destroyed by Mohammedans the religion of the Buddha disappeared from his native land.
The relationship between regular people and the Church in Buddhism is interesting and has had significant consequences, both positive and negative. A layperson "takes refuge" in the Buddha, his teachings, and his community but doesn’t have to swear complete loyalty; following additional practices isn’t seen as betrayal, as long as they aren’t problematic on their own. The Buddha didn’t set any rituals for births, deaths, and marriages, and he seemingly expected laypeople to keep observing whatever customs were already established. Nowadays, in China and Japan, a good layperson is someone who focuses more on Buddhism than on other religions. This flexible approach contributed significantly to Buddhism’s success in the Far East, where it faced strong biases and likely wouldn’t have thrived if it had rejected local deities. However, in India, the lack of a special organization for laypeople shows its drawbacks, especially when we look at the survival of the Jains, who do form such an organization. Social life in India tends to group people into castes or communities, which, while not officially castes, share many similar characteristics. These communities thrive as long as they maintain their unique practices, but once they stop, they quickly break down and are absorbed again. From the beginning, Buddhism didn’t take the shape of an organization. The specific community it created was the saṅgha, or monkhood. Otherwise, its goal wasn’t to establish a sect but to include everyone as lay believers with minimal barriers. This approach worked well while the faith was thriving, but it became disastrous when things started to decline. The line between Buddhist laypeople and ordinary Hindus grew increasingly blurred; distinctive teachings were only found in the monasteries, which became poorly staffed. As these monasteries were gradually abandoned or destroyed by Muslims, Buddhism faded from its place of origin.
Even in the monasteries the doctrine taught bore a closer resemblance to Hinduism than to the preaching of Gotama and it is this absence of the protestant spirit, this pliant adaptability to the ideas of each age, which caused Indian Buddhism to lose its individuality and separate existence. In some localities its disappearance and absorption were preceded by a monstrous phase, known as Tantrism or Śâktism, in which the worst elements of Hinduism, those which would have been most repulsive to Gotama, made an unnatural alliance with his church.
Even in the monasteries, the teachings were more similar to Hinduism than to what Gotama preached, and it's this lack of a reformative spirit, this flexible adaptation to the ideas of the time, that made Indian Buddhism lose its uniqueness and distinct identity. In some areas, its decline and absorption were preceded by a bizarre phase called Tantrism or Śâktism, where the most negative aspects of Hinduism, which Gotama would have found most objectionable, formed an unnatural alliance with his teachings.
I treat of Tantrism and Śâktism in another chapter. The original meaning of Tantra as applied to literary compositions is a simplified manual.[297] Thus we hear of Vishnuite Tantras and in this sense there is a real similarity between Buddhist and tantric teaching, for both set aside Brahmanic tradition as needlessly complicated and both profess to preach a simple and practical road to salvation. But in Hinduism and Buddhism alike such words as Tantra and tantric acquire a special sense and imply the worship of the divine energy in a female form called by many names such as Kâlî in the former, Târâ in the latter. This worship which in my opinion should be called Śâktism rather than Tantrism combines many elements: ancient, savage superstitions as well as ingenious but fanciful speculation, but its essence is always magic. It attempts to attain by magical or sacramental formulæ and acts not only prosperity and power but salvation, nirvana and union with the supreme spirit. Some of its sects practise secret immoral rites. It is sad to confess that degenerate Buddhism did not remain uncorrupted by such abuses.
I discuss Tantrism and Śâktism in another chapter. The original meaning of Tantra, when applied to literary works, is a simplified guide.[297] Thus, we hear about Vishnuite Tantras, and in this sense, there is a genuine similarity between Buddhist and tantric teachings because both reject Brahmanic tradition as unnecessarily complicated and both claim to offer a straightforward and practical path to salvation. However, in both Hinduism and Buddhism, terms like Tantra and tantric take on a specific meaning and refer to the worship of divine energy in a female form known by various names, such as Kâlî in Hinduism and Târâ in Buddhism. This worship, which I believe should be referred to as Śâktism rather than Tantrism, integrates many elements: ancient, primal superstitions as well as clever but fanciful ideas, but its core is always magic. It strives to achieve not just prosperity and power but also salvation, nirvana, and union with the supreme spirit through magical or sacramental formulas and actions. Some of its sects practice secret immoral rites. It’s unfortunate to admit that corrupted Buddhism did not escape such abuses.
It is always a difficult and speculative task to trace the early stages of new movements in Indian religion, but it is clear that by the eighth century and perhaps earlier the Buddhism of Bihar and Bengal had fallen a prey to this influence. Apparently the public ritual in the Vihâras remained unchanged and the usual language about nirvâna and śûnyatâ was not discarded, but it was [122] taught that those who followed a certain curriculum could obtain salvation by magical methods. To enter this curriculum it was necessary to have a qualified teacher and to receive from him initiation or baptism (abhisheka). Of the subsequent rites the most important is to evoke one of the many Buddhas or Bodhisattvas recognized by the Mahayana and identify oneself with him.[298] He who wishes to do this is often called a sâdhaka or magician but his achievements, like many Indian miracles, are due to self-hypnotization. He is directed to repair to a lonely place and offer worship there with flowers and prayers. To this office succeed prolonged exercises in meditation which do not depart much from the ancient canon since they include the four Brahmâ-vihâras. Their object is to suppress thought and leave the mind empty. Then the sâdhaka fills this void with the image of some Bodhisattva, for instance Avalokita. This he does by uttering mystic syllables called bîja or seed, because they are supposed to germinate and grow into the figures which he wishes to produce. In this way he imagines that he sees the emblems of the Bodhisattva spring up round him one by one and finally he himself assumes the shape of Avalokita and becomes one with him. Something similar still exists in Tibet where every Lama chooses a tutelary deity or Yi-dam whom he summons in visible form after meditation and fasting.[299] Though this procedure when set forth methodically in a mediæval manual seems an absurd travesty of Buddhism, yet it has links with the early faith. It is admitted in the Pitakas that certain forms of meditation[300] lead to union with Brahmâ and it is no great change to make them lead to union with other supernatural beings. Still we are not here breathing the atmosphere of the Pitakas. The object is not to share Brahmâ's heaven but to become temporarily identified with a deity, and this is not a byway of religion but the high road.
It’s always a challenging and uncertain task to trace the early stages of new movements in Indian religion, but it’s clear that by the eighth century, and possibly even earlier, Buddhism in Bihar and Bengal had succumbed to this influence. The public rituals in the Vihâras seemed to remain unchanged, and the usual terms for nirvâna and śûnyatâ were still in use, but it was taught that those who followed a specific curriculum could achieve salvation through magical methods. To embark on this curriculum, one needed a qualified teacher and to receive initiation or baptism (abhisheka) from them. Among the subsequent rites, the most significant is to call upon one of the many Buddhas or Bodhisattvas recognized by the Mahayana and to identify oneself with them.[298] Someone wishing to do this is often referred to as a sâdhaka or magician, but their accomplishments, like many Indian miracles, are due to self-hypnosis. They are instructed to go to a secluded spot and worship there with flowers and prayers. Following this, there are extended meditation exercises that don’t stray far from the ancient texts, as they include the four Brahmâ-vihâras. The goal is to quiet the mind and leave it empty. Then, the sâdhaka fills this emptiness with the image of a Bodhisattva, such as Avalokita. This is achieved by chanting mystic syllables known as bîja or seed, because they are believed to germinate and develop into the figures the practitioner wishes to manifest. In this way, they envision the symbols of the Bodhisattva appearing around them one by one, and ultimately they themselves take on the form of Avalokita, becoming one with him. A similar practice exists in Tibet, where every Lama selects a protective deity or Yi-dam whom they invoke in a visible form after meditation and fasting.[299] Although this process, when laid out systematically in a medieval manual, may seem like an absurd distortion of Buddhism, it does have connections to the early faith. It is acknowledged in the Pitakas that certain types of meditation[300] can lead to union with Brahmâ, and it’s not a large leap to suggest they could lead to union with other supernatural beings as well. Still, we are not in the realm of the Pitakas here. The aim is not to share Brahmâ's heaven but to become temporarily one with a deity, and this is considered not a detour in religion but a direct path.
But there is a further stage of degradation. I have already mentioned that various Bodhisattvas are represented as accompanied by a female deity, particularly Avalokita by Târâ. The [123] mythological and metaphysical ideas which have grown up round Śiva and Durgâ also attached themselves to these couples. The Buddha or Bodhisattva is represented as enjoying nirvana because he is united to his spouse, and to the three bodies already enumerated is added a fourth, the body of perfect bliss.[301] Sometimes this idea merely leads to further developments of the practices described above. Thus the devotee may imagine that he enters into Târâ as an embryo and is born of her as a Buddha.[302] More often the argument is that since the bliss of the Buddha consists in union with Târâ, nirvana can be obtained by sexual union here, and we find many of the tantric wizards represented as accompanied by female companions. The adept should avoid all action but he is beyond good and evil and the dangerous doctrine that he can do evil with impunity, which the more respectable sects repudiate, is expressly taught. The sage is not defiled by passion but conquers passion by passion: he should commit every infamy: he should rob, lie and kill Buddhas.[303] These crazy precepts are probably little more than a speculative application to the moral sphere of the doctrine that all things are non-existent and hence equivalent. But though tantrists did not go about robbing and murdering so freely as their principles allowed, there is some evidence that in the period of decadence the morality of the Bhikshus had fallen into great discredit. Thus in the allegorical Vishnuite drama called Prabodhacandrodaya and written at Kalanjar near the end of the eleventh century Buddhists and Jains are represented as succumbing to the temptations of inebriety and voluptuousness.
But there is another level of degradation. I've already mentioned that different Bodhisattvas are depicted with a female deity, especially Avalokita with Târâ. The [123] mythological and metaphysical concepts surrounding Śiva and Durgâ also became associated with these pairs. The Buddha or Bodhisattva is shown as achieving nirvana due to his union with his partner, and to the three bodies previously mentioned, a fourth is added: the body of perfect bliss.[301] Sometimes this notion simply leads to further expansions of the practices described above. Thus, the devotee might imagine that he enters Târâ as an embryo and is born from her as a Buddha.[302] More often, the argument is that since the bliss of the Buddha arises from union with Târâ, nirvana can be achieved through sexual union here, leading to many tantric practitioners being depicted alongside female partners. The adept is advised to avoid all actions, but is said to be beyond good and evil; the dangerous belief that he can do wrong without consequences, which more respected sects reject, is explicitly taught. The sage is not tainted by passion but overcomes passion with passion: he should commit every kind of wrongdoing: he should steal, lie, and kill Buddhas.[303] These bizarre teachings are likely nothing more than a theoretical application to the moral realm of the doctrine that all things are non-existent and thus equivalent. However, while tantrists may not have indulged in stealing and murdering as freely as their principles suggested, there is some evidence that during the period of decline, the morality of the Bhikshus had greatly discredited. For example, in the allegorical Vishnuite play called Prabodhacandrodaya, written near Kalanjar in the late eleventh century, Buddhists and Jains are shown as succumbing to the temptations of drunkenness and sensuality.
It is necessary to mention this phase of decadence but no good purpose would be served by dwelling further on the absurd and often disgusting prescriptions of such works as the Tathâgata-guhyaka. If the European reader is inclined to condemn unreservedly a religion which even in decrepitude could find place for such monstrosities, he should remember that the aberrations of Indian religion are due not to its [124] inherent depravity, but to its universality. In Europe those who follow disreputable occupations rarely suppose that they have anything to do with the Church. In India, robbers, murderers, gamblers, prostitutes, and maniacs all have their appropriate gods, and had the Marquis de Sade been a Hindu he would probably have founded a new tantric sect. But though the details of Śâktism are an unprofitable study, it is of some importance to ascertain when it first invaded Buddhism and to what extent it superseded older ideas.
It’s important to address this phase of decline, but there’s no benefit in going into detail about the bizarre and often repulsive teachings found in texts like the Tathâgata-guhyaka. If European readers feel inclined to judge a religion that could accommodate such horrors even in its decay, they should keep in mind that the oddities of Indian religion stem not from its inherent flaws but from its widespread nature. In Europe, those involved in questionable activities rarely think they have anything to do with the Church. In India, robbers, murderers, gamblers, prostitutes, and madmen each have their own specific deities, and if the Marquis de Sade had been a Hindu, he likely would have started a new tantric sect. While the specifics of Śâktism might not be a fruitful area of study, it's crucial to determine when it first penetrated Buddhism and to what degree it replaced earlier beliefs.
Some critics[304] seem to imply—for their statements are not very explicit—that Śâktism formed part if not of the teaching of the Buddha, at least of the medley of beliefs held by his disciples. But I see no proof that Śâktist beliefs—that is to say erotic mysticism founded on the worship of goddesses—were prevalent in Magadha or Kosala before the Christian era. Although Siri, the goddess of luck, is mentioned in the Pitakas, the popular deities whom they bring on the scene are almost exclusively masculine.[305] And though in the older Brahmanic books there are passages which might easily become tantric, yet the transition is not made and the important truths of religion are kept distinct from unclean rites and thoughts. The Bṛihad-âraṇyaka contains a chapter which hardly admits of translation but the object of the practices inculcated is simply to ensure the birth of a son. The same work (not without analogies in the ecstatic utterances of Christian saints) boldly compares union with the Âtman to the bliss of one who is embraced by a beloved wife, but this is a mere illustration and there is no hint of the doctrine that the goal of the religious life is obtainable by maithuna. Still such passages, though innocent in themselves, make it easy to see how degrading superstitions found an easy entrance into the noblest edifices of Indian thought and possibly some heresies condemned in the Kathâvatthu[306] indicate that even at this early date the Buddhist Church was contaminated by erotic fancies. But, if so, there is no evidence that such malpractices were widespread. [125] The appendices to the Lotus[307] show that the worship of a many-named goddess, invoked as a defender of the faith, was beginning to be a recognized feature of Buddhism. But they contain no indications of left-handed Tantrism and the best proof that it did not become prevalent until much later is afforded by the narratives of the three Chinese pilgrims who all describe the condition of religion in India and notice anything which they thought singular or reprehensible. Fa-Hsien does not mention the worship of any female deity,[308] nor does the Life of Vasubandhu, but Asanga appears to allude to Śâktism in one passage.[309] Hsüan Chuang mentions images of Târâ but without hinting at tantric ritual, nor does I-Ching allude to it, nor does the evidence of art and inscriptions attest its existence. It may have been known as a form of popular superstition and even have been practised by individual Bhikshus, but the silence of I-Ching makes it improbable that it was then countenanced in the schools of Magadha. He complains[310] of those who neglect the Vinaya and "devote their whole attention to the doctrine of nothingness," but he says not a word about tantric abuses.[311]
Some critics[304] seem to suggest—although they're not very clear—that Śâktism was part of the teachings of the Buddha, or at least some of the beliefs held by his disciples. However, I find no evidence that Śâktist beliefs—meaning erotic mysticism based on the worship of goddesses—were common in Magadha or Kosala before the Christian era. While Siri, the goddess of luck, is mentioned in the Pitakas, the popular deities referenced are mostly male.[305] Although the older Brahmanic texts include passages that could easily align with tantric ideas, they do not make that connection, and the essential truths of religion remain separate from impure rites and thoughts. The Bṛihad-âraṇyaka includes a chapter that is difficult to translate, but its practices are solely aimed at ensuring the birth of a son. The same text (not without similarities to the ecstatic utterances of Christian saints) openly compares union with the Âtman to the joy of being embraced by a beloved wife, but this is just an illustration, and there's no suggestion that the aim of the religious life can be achieved through maithuna. Still, such passages, though innocent themselves, illustrate how degrading superstitions could easily infiltrate the highest realms of Indian thought and perhaps some heresies rejected in the Kathâvatthu[306] indicate that even at this early stage, the Buddhist Church was influenced by erotic ideas. Yet, if that’s the case, there’s no evidence that such practices were widespread. [125] The appendices to the Lotus[307] show that the worship of a many-named goddess, seen as a protector of the faith, was starting to become recognized in Buddhism. However, they give no signs of left-handed Tantrism, and the best proof that it didn't become common until much later comes from the accounts of three Chinese pilgrims, who described the state of religion in India and noted anything they thought was unusual or objectionable. Fa-Hsien doesn't mention the worship of any female deity,[308] nor does the Life of Vasubandhu, but Asanga seems to refer to Śâktism in one passage.[309] Hsüan Chuang mentions images of Târâ but does not suggest any tantric rituals, nor does I-Ching refer to them, nor does the evidence from art and inscriptions support their existence. It could have been known as a form of popular superstition and might have been practiced by individual Bhikshus, but the silence of I-Ching makes it unlikely that it was then accepted in the schools of Magadha. He complains[310] about those who ignore the Vinaya and "focus entirely on the doctrine of nothingness," but he doesn’t mention any tantric abuses.[311]
The change probably occurred in the next half century[312] for Padma-Sambhava, the founder of Lamaism who is said to have resided in Gaya and Nalanda and to have arrived in Tibet in 747 A.D., is represented by tradition as a tantric wizard, and about the same time translations of Tantras begin to appear in Chinese. The translations of the sixth and seventh centuries, including those of I-Ching, comprise a considerable though not preponderant number of Dhâraṇîs. After the seventh century [126] these became very numerous and several Tantras were also translated.[313] The inference seems to be that early in the eighth century Indian Buddhists officially recognized Tantrism.
The change likely happened in the next fifty years[312] for Padma-Sambhava, the founder of Lamaism, who is believed to have lived in Gaya and Nalanda and arrived in Tibet in 747 A.D. He's traditionally seen as a tantric wizard, and around the same time, translations of Tantras began showing up in Chinese. The translations from the sixth and seventh centuries, including those by I-Ching, make up a significant, though not majority, number of Dhâraṇîs. After the seventh century [126], these became quite numerous, and several Tantras were also translated.[313] It seems that early in the eighth century, Indian Buddhists officially acknowledged Tantrism.
Tantric Buddhism was due to the mixture of Mahayanist teaching with aboriginal superstitions absorbed through the medium of Hinduism, though in some cases there may have been direct contact and mutual influence between Mahayanism and aboriginal beliefs. But as a rule what happened was that aboriginal deities were identified with Hindu deities and Buddhism had not sufficient independence to keep its own pantheon distinct, so that Vairocana and Târâ received most of the attributes, brahmanic or barbarous, given to Śiva or Kâli. The worship of the goddesses, described in their Hinduized form as Durgâ, Kâlî, etc., though found in most parts of India was specially prevalent in the sub-himalayan districts both east and west. Now Padma-Sambhava was a native of Udyâna or Swat and Târanâtha represents the chief Tantrists[314] as coming from there or visiting it. Hsüan Chuang[315] tells us that the inhabitants were devout Mahayanists but specially expert in magic and exorcism. He also describes no less than four sacred places in it where the Buddha in previous births gave his flesh, blood or bones for the good of others. Have we here in a Buddhist form some ancient legend of dismemberment like that told of Satî in Assam? Of Kashmir he says that its religion was a mixture of Buddhism with other beliefs.[316] These are precisely the conditions most favourable to the growth of Tantrism and though [127] the bulk of the population are now Mohammedans, witchcraft and sorcery are still rampant. Among the Hindu Kashmîris[317] the most prevalent religion has always been the worship of Śiva, especially in the form representing him as half male, half female. This cult is not far from Śâktism and many allusions[318] in the Râjataranginî indicate that left-hand worship was known, though the author satirizes it as a corruption. He also several times mentions[319] Mâtri-cakras, that is circles sacred to the Mothers or tantric goddesses. In Nepal and Tibet tantric Buddhism is fully developed but these countries have received so much from India that they exhibit not a parallel growth, but late Indian Tantrism as imported ready-made from Bengal. It is here that we come nearest to the origins of Tantrism, for though the same beliefs may have flourished in Udyâna and Kashmir they did not spread much in the Panjab or Hindustan, where their progress was hindered at first by a healthy and vigorous Hinduism and subsequently by Mohammedan invasions. But from 700 to 1197 A.D. Bengal was remote alike from the main currents of Indian religion and from foreign raids: little Aryan thought or learning leavened the local superstitions which were infecting and stifling decadent Buddhism. Hsüan Chuang informs us that Bhaskaravarma king of Kâmarûpa[320] attended the fêtes celebrated by Harsha in 644 A.D. and inscriptions found at Tezpur indicate that kings with Hindu names reigned in Assam about 800 A.D. This is agreeable to the supposition that an amalgamation of Śivaism and aboriginal religion may have been in formation about 700 A.D. and have influenced Buddhism.
Tantric Buddhism arose from the blending of Mahayanist teachings with local superstitions absorbed through Hinduism. In some instances, there might have been direct contact and mutual influence between Mahayanism and indigenous beliefs. Generally, however, local deities were equated with Hindu deities, and Buddhism lacked enough independence to maintain its own distinct pantheon. As a result, Vairocana and Târâ took on many of the attributes, whether brahmanic or crude, that were originally ascribed to Śiva or Kâli. The worship of goddesses, often referred to in their Hinduized forms like Durgâ and Kâlî, was widespread across India but particularly common in the regions just below the Himalayas, both east and west. Padma-Sambhava hailed from Udyâna or Swat, and Târanâtha represents the main Tantrists as coming from there or visiting it. Hsüan Chuang noted that the locals were devout Mahayanists but especially skilled in magic and exorcism. He also described four sacred sites where the Buddha, in previous lifetimes, sacrificed his flesh, blood, or bones for the benefit of others. Does this suggest an ancient legend of dismemberment in a Buddhist context, similar to the tale of Satî in Assam? Regarding Kashmir, he stated that its religion was a blend of Buddhism and other beliefs. These conditions are highly conducive to the emergence of Tantrism, and although the majority of the population is now Muslim, witchcraft and sorcery are still prevalent. Among the Hindu Kashmîris, the most common religion has consistently been the worship of Śiva, particularly in his half-male, half-female form. This cult is closely related to Śâktism, and various references in the Râjataranginî suggest that left-hand worship was practiced, although the author criticizes it as a corruption. He also frequently mentions Mâtri-cakras, which are circles dedicated to the Mothers or tantric goddesses. In Nepal and Tibet, tantric Buddhism is fully developed, but these regions have borrowed heavily from India, showing not a parallel development but rather later Indian Tantrism imported in its complete form from Bengal. This proximity brings us closest to the origins of Tantrism, as the same beliefs may have thrived in Udyâna and Kashmir but didn’t spread widely in Punjab or Hindustan. Their growth was initially impeded by a thriving and vigorous Hinduism and later by Muslim invasions. From 700 to 1197 A.D., however, Bengal was distanced from both the main currents of Indian religion and foreign raids. Little Aryan thought or learning influenced the local superstitions, which were weakening and suffocating Buddhism. Hsüan Chuang reports that Bhaskaravarma, the king of Kâmarûpa, attended the festivals held by Harsha in 644 A.D., and inscriptions found at Tezpur show that kings with Hindu names ruled in Assam around 800 A.D. This aligns with the idea that an amalgamation of Śivaism and local religion was forming around 700 A.D. and influencing Buddhism.
In Bihar from the eighth century onwards the influence of Tantrism was powerful and disastrous. The best information about this epoch is still to be found in Târanâtha, in spite of his defects.
In Bihar from the eighth century onward, the impact of Tantrism was significant and detrimental. The most reliable information about this period is still found in Târanâtha, despite his shortcomings.
He makes the interesting statement that in the reign of Gopâla who was a Buddhist, although his ministers were not (730-740 A.D.), the Buddhists wished their religious buildings [128] to be kept separate from Hindu temples but that, in spite of protests, life-sized images of Hindu deities were erected in them.[321] The ritual too was affected, for we hear several times of burnt offerings[322] and how Bodhibhadra, one of the later professors of Vikramaśila, was learned in the mystic lore of both Buddhists and Brahmans. Nalanda and the other viharas continued to be seats of learning and not merely monasteries, and for some time there was a regular succession of teachers. Târanâtha gives us to understand that there were many students and authors but that sorcery occupied an increasingly important position. Of most teachers we are told that they saw some deity, such as Avalokita or Târâ. The deity was summoned by the rites already described[323] and the object of the performer was to obtain magical powers or siddhi. The successful sorcerer was known as siddha, and we hear of 84 mahâsiddhas, still celebrated in Tibet, who extend from Rahulabhadra Nâgârjuna to the thirteenth century. Many of them bear names which appear not to be Indian.
He makes the intriguing observation that during the reign of Gopâla, who was a Buddhist (730-740 A.D.), his ministers were not. The Buddhists wanted their religious buildings [128] to be distinct from Hindu temples, yet despite their objections, life-sized images of Hindu deities were placed in them.[321] The rituals were also influenced, as we hear numerous reports of burnt offerings[322] and how Bodhibhadra, one of the later professors at Vikramaśila, was well-versed in the mystical teachings of both Buddhists and Brahmans. Nalanda and the other viharas remained centers of learning rather than just monasteries, and for a while, there was a regular flow of teachers. Târanâtha suggests that many students and authors were present, but that sorcery gained a more prominent role. We're told that most teachers had visions of a deity, such as Avalokita or Târâ. The deity was summoned through the rituals already described[323], and the performer's goal was to acquire magical powers or siddhi. A successful sorcerer was called a siddha, and we hear of 84 mahâsiddhas, who are still revered in Tibet, spanning from Rahulabhadra Nâgârjuna to the thirteenth century. Many of them have names that seem to be non-Indian.
The topics treated of in the Tantras are divided into Kriyâ (ritual), Caryâ (apparently corresponding to Vinaya), Yoga, and Anuttara-yoga. Sometimes the first three are contrasted with the fourth and sometimes the first two are described as lower, the third and fourth as higher. But the Anuttara-yoga is always considered the highest and most mysterious.[324] Târanâtha says[325] that the Tantras began to appear simultaneously with the Mahayana sûtras but adds that the Anuttara-yoga tantras appeared gradually.[326] He also observes that the Âcârya Ânanda-garbha[327] did much to spread them in Magadha. It is not until [129] a late period of the Pâla dynasty that he mentions the Kâlacakra which is the most extravagant form of Buddhist Tantrism.
The topics covered in the Tantras are categorized into Kriyâ (ritual), Caryâ (similar to Vinaya), Yoga, and Anuttara-yoga. Sometimes the first three are contrasted with the fourth, and at other times, the first two are seen as lower, while the third and fourth are viewed as higher. However, Anuttara-yoga is always regarded as the highest and most enigmatic. Târanâtha mentions that the Tantras started to emerge at the same time as the Mahayana sûtras but notes that the Anuttara-yoga tantras appeared gradually. He also points out that Âcârya Ânanda-garbha played a significant role in spreading them in Magadha. It isn’t until a later period of the Pâla dynasty that he refers to the Kâlacakra, which is the most extravagant form of Buddhist Tantrism.[324] Târanâtha says[325] that the Tantras began to appear simultaneously with the Mahayana sûtras but adds that the Anuttara-yoga tantras appeared gradually.[326] He also observes that the Âcârya Ânanda-garbha[327] did much to spread them in Magadha. It is not until [129] a late period of the Pâla dynasty that he mentions the Kâlacakra which is the most extravagant form of Buddhist Tantrism.
This accords with other statements to the effect that the Kâlacakra tantra was introduced in 965 A.D. from Śambhala, a mysterious country in Central Asia. This system is said to be Vishnuite rather than Śivaite. It specially patronizes the cult of the mystic Buddhas such as Kâlacakra and Heruka, all of whom appear to be regarded as forms of Âdi-Buddha or the primordial Buddha essence. The Siddha named Pito is also described as the author of this doctrine,[328] which had less importance in India than in Tibet.
This aligns with other accounts suggesting that the Kâlacakra tantra was brought in from Śambhala, a mysterious region in Central Asia, in 965 A.D. This system is seen as more aligned with Vishnu than Shiva. It particularly supports the worship of mystical Buddhas like Kâlacakra and Heruka, who are all viewed as manifestations of Âdi-Buddha, or the essence of the primordial Buddha. The Siddha named Pito is also mentioned as the author of this teaching,[328] which was less significant in India than in Tibet.
On the other hand Târanâtha gives us the names of several doctors of the Vinaya who flourished under the Pâla dynasty. Even as late as the reign of Râmapâla (? 1080-1120) we hear that the Hinayanists were numerous. In the reign of Dharmapâla (c. 800 A.D.) some of them broke up the great silver image of Heruka at Bodh-Gaya and burnt the books of Mantras.[329] These instances show that the older Buddhism was not entirely overwhelmed by Tantrism[330] though perhaps it was kept alive more by pilgrims than by local sentiment. Thus the Chinese inscriptions of Bodh-Gaya though they speak at length of the three bodies of Buddha show no signs of Tantrism. It would appear that the worship celebrated in the holy places of Magadha preserved a respectable side until the end. In the same way although Tantrism is strong in the literature of the Lamas, none of the many descriptions of Tibet indicate that there is anything scandalous in the externals of religion. Probably in Tibet, Nepal and mediæval Magadha alike the existence of disgraceful tantric literature does not indicate such widespread depravity as might be supposed. But of its putrefying influence in corrupting the minds of those who ought to have preserved [130] the pure faith there can be no doubt. More than any other form of mixed belief it obliterated essential differences, for Buddhist Tantrism and Śivaite Tantrism are merely two varieties of Tantrism.
On the other hand, Târanâtha provides us with the names of several Vinaya doctors who thrived during the Pâla dynasty. Even as late as the reign of Râmapâla (around 1080-1120), we hear that there were many Hinayanists. During Dharmapâla's reign (around 800 A.D.), some of them destroyed the large silver image of Heruka at Bodh-Gaya and burned the Mantra books.[329] These examples show that older Buddhism was not completely overpowered by Tantrism[330] although it may have been kept alive more by pilgrims than by local support. The Chinese inscriptions at Bodh-Gaya, while they extensively discuss the three bodies of Buddha, show no signs of Tantrism. It seems that the worship practiced in the holy sites of Magadha maintained a respectable aspect until the end. Similarly, even though Tantrism is prominent in Lama literature, none of the many descriptions of Tibet suggest that there is anything scandalous about the outward practices of religion. Likely, in Tibet, Nepal, and medieval Magadha, the presence of inappropriate tantric literature does not imply such widespread corruption as one might think. However, there's no doubt about its harmful influence in corrupting the minds of those who should have upheld the pure faith. More than any other mixed belief system, it erased essential differences, as Buddhist Tantrism and Śivaite Tantrism are merely two forms of Tantrism.
What is happening at Bodh-Gaya at present[331] illustrates how Buddhism disappeared from India. The abbot of a neighbouring Śivaite monastery who claims the temple and grounds does not wish, as a Mohammedan might, to destroy the building or even to efface Buddhist emblems. He wishes to supervise the whole establishment and the visits of pilgrims, as well as to place on the images of Buddha Hindu sectarian marks and other ornaments. Hindu pilgrims are still taken by their guides to venerate the Bodhi tree and, but for the presence of foreign pilgrims, no casual observer would suppose the spot to be anything but a Hindu temple of unusual construction. The same process went a step further in many shrines which had not the same celebrity and effaced all traces and memory of Buddhism.
What’s happening at Bodh-Gaya right now[331] shows how Buddhism faded away in India. The head of a nearby Śivaite monastery, who claims the temple and its grounds, doesn’t want to destroy the building or even remove Buddhist symbols like a Muslim might. He wants to oversee the entire site and the visits from pilgrims, along with adding Hindu sect marks and other decorations to the images of Buddha. Hindu pilgrims are still taken by their guides to honor the Bodhi tree, and if it weren’t for the foreign visitors, no casual observer would think the location is anything other than an unusually built Hindu temple. This trend continued further in many shrines that weren’t as well-known, completely erasing any signs or memories of Buddhism.
At the present day the Buddha is recognized by the Brahmans as an incarnation of Vishnu,[332] though the recognition is often qualified by the statement that Vishnu assumed this form in order to mislead the wicked who threatened to become too powerful if they knew the true method of attaining superhuman powers. But he is rarely worshipped in propriâ personâ.[333] As a rule Buddhist images and emblems are ascribed to Vishnu or Śiva, according to sectarian preferences, but in spite of fusion some lingering sense of original animosity prevents Gotama from receiving even such respect as is accorded to incarnations like Paraśu-râma. At Bodh-Gaya I have been told that Hindu pilgrims are taken by their guides to venerate the Bodhi-tree but not the images of Buddha.
Today, the Brahmans recognize the Buddha as an incarnation of Vishnu,[332] although they often add that Vishnu took this form to confuse the wicked who would become too powerful if they understood the true way of gaining superhuman abilities. However, he is rarely worshipped in propriâ personâ.[333] Generally, Buddhist images and symbols are attributed to Vishnu or Śiva, depending on sectarian preferences, but despite this blending, some lingering feelings of original hostility prevent Gotama from receiving even the respect given to incarnations like Paraśu-râma. At Bodh-Gaya, I've been told that Hindu pilgrims are guided to honor the Bodhi-tree, but not the images of the Buddha.
Yet in reviewing the disappearance of Buddhism from India we must remember that it was absorbed not expelled. The result of the mixture is justly called Hinduism, yet both [131] in usages and beliefs it has taken over much that is Buddhist and without Buddhism it would never have assumed its present shape. To Buddhist influence are due for instance the rejection by most sects of animal sacrifices: the doctrine of the sanctity of animal life: monastic institutions and the ecclesiastical discipline found in the Dravidian regions. We may trace the same influence with more or less certainty in the philosophy of Śaṅkara and outside the purely religious sphere in the development of Indian logic. These and similar points are dealt with in more detail in other parts of this work and I need not dwell on them here.
Yet when we look at the disappearance of Buddhism from India, we need to remember that it was absorbed rather than pushed out. The result of this blend is rightly called Hinduism; however, in practices and beliefs, it has adopted much that is Buddhist, and without Buddhism, it would never have developed into its current form. For example, most sects have rejected animal sacrifices due to Buddhist influence, as well as the belief in the sanctity of animal life, monastic institutions, and the church discipline found in the Dravidian areas. We can trace this influence, with varying degrees of certainty, in the philosophy of Śaṅkara and beyond the strictly religious context, in the growth of Indian logic. These and similar topics are discussed in more detail in other sections of this work, so I won’t go into them here.
FOOTNOTES:
[264] Written before the war.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Written before the war.
[268] Râjataranginî, III. 12.
[271] Târanâtha in his twenty-eighth and following chapters gives an account, unfortunately very confused, of the condition of Buddhism under the Pâla dynasty. See also B.K. Sarkar, Folklore Element in Hindu Culture, chap. XII, in which there are many interesting statements but not sufficient references.
[271] Târanâtha in his twenty-eighth and subsequent chapters provides a rather confusing overview of Buddhism during the Pâla dynasty. You can also check out B.K. Sarkar's Folklore Element in Hindu Culture, chapter XII, which includes several intriguing points, though it lacks adequate references.
[272] See Vidyabhusana's Mediæval School of Indian Logic, p. 150, for an account of this monastery which was perhaps at the modern Pârthaghâta. I have found no account of what happened to Nalanda in this period but it seems to have disappeared as a seat of learning.
[272] See Vidyabhusana's Mediæval School of Indian Logic, p. 150, for a description of this monastery, which may be at the current location of Pârthaghâta. I haven't found any information on what happened to Nalanda during this time, but it looks like it faded away as a center of learning.
[273] See Târanâtha, chap. XXVIII.
[276] Raverty, Tabat-i-Nasiri, p. 552. "It was discovered that the whole of that fortress and city was a college and in the Hindi tongue they call a college Bihar."
[276] Raverty, Tabat-i-Nasiri, p. 552. "It was found that the entire fortress and city functioned as a college, which in Hindi is referred to as Bihar."
[277] Many of them have been collected by Pandit Haraprasad Sastri in Jour. As. Soc. Bengal, 1895, pp. 55 ff. and in his Discovery of living Buddhism in Bengal, Calcutta, 1897.
[277] Many of them have been gathered by Pandit Haraprasad Sastri in Jour. As. Soc. Bengal, 1895, pp. 55 ff. and in his Discovery of Living Buddhism in Bengal, Calcutta, 1897.
[281] The Archæological Survey of Mayurabhanj (no date? 1911), vol. I. pp. cv-cclxiii. The part containing an account of Buddhism in Orissa is also printed separately with the title Modern Buddhism, 1911.
[281] The Archaeological Survey of Mayurabhanj (no date? 1911), vol. I. pp. cv-cclxiii. The section that includes a discussion of Buddhism in Orissa is also published separately under the title Modern Buddhism, 1911.
[282] For Râmâi Pandit see Dinesh Chandra Sen, Hist. Bengali Language and Lit. pp. 30-37, and also B.K. Sarkar, Folklore Element in Hindu Culture, p. 192, and elsewhere. He appears to have been born at the end of the tenth century and though the Śûnya Purâṇa has been re-edited and interpolated parts of it are said to be in very old Bengali.
[282] For Râmâi Pandit, see Dinesh Chandra Sen, Hist. Bengali Language and Lit. pp. 30-37, and also B.K. Sarkar, Folklore Element in Hindu Culture, p. 192, and elsewhere. He seems to have been born at the end of the tenth century, and although the Śûnya Purâṇa has been re-edited, some parts of it are said to be in very old Bengali.
[283] Nagendranâth Vasu quotes a couplet from the Mahâbhârata of the poet Saraladasa: "I pay my humble respects to the incarnation of Buddha who in the form of Buddha dwells in the Nîlâcala, i.e. Puri." The Imperial Gazetteer of India (s.v. Puri Town) states that in modern representations of Vishṇu's ten avatâras, the ninth, or Buddhâvatâra, is sometimes represented by Jagannâtha.
[283] Nagendranâth Vasu quotes a verse from the Mahâbhârata by poet Saraladasa: "I humbly pay my respects to the incarnation of Buddha who, in the form of Buddha, resides in Nîlâcala, i.e., Puri." The Imperial Gazetteer of India (s.v. Puri Town) notes that in modern depictions of Vishṇu's ten avatars, the ninth, or Buddhâvatâra, is sometimes represented by Jagannâtha.
[284] I give the dates or the authority of Narandra Nâth while thinking that they may be somewhat too early. The two authors named wrote the Śûnya Samhitâ and Nirguṇa Mâhâtmya respectively.
[284] I provide the dates or the authority of Narandra Nâth, believing that they might be a bit too early. The two authors mentioned wrote the Śûnya Samhitâ and Nirguṇa Mâhâtmya, respectively.
[285] l.c. clxxvi ff., ccxix-ccxxiii, ccxxxi.
[287] l.c. cxvi ff. and ccxxxii.
[288] l.c. ccxxxiv ff.
[289] See Haraprasad Sastri, l.c. He gives a curious account of one of his temples in Calcutta. See also B.K. Sarkar, Folklore Element in Hindu Culture for the decadence of Buddhism in Bengal and its survival in degenerate forms.
[289] See Haraprasad Sastri, l.c. He provides an interesting description of one of his temples in Calcutta. Also, check out B.K. Sarkar, Folklore Element in Hindu Culture for the decline of Buddhism in Bengal and its persistence in weakened forms.
[290] See B.H. Hodgson, Essays on the languages, literature and religion of Nepal and Tibet, 1874. For the religion of Nepal see also Wright, History of Nepal, 1877; C. Bendall, Journal of Literary and Archæological Research in Nepal, 1886; Rajendralal Mitra, Sanskrit Buddhist literature of Nepal; and especially S. Lévi, Le Nepal, 3 vols. 1905-8.
[290] See B.H. Hodgson, Essays on the languages, literature and religion of Nepal and Tibet, 1874. For information about the religion of Nepal, also check out Wright, History of Nepal, 1877; C. Bendall, Journal of Literary and Archaeological Research in Nepal, 1886; Rajendralal Mitra, Sanskrit Buddhist literature of Nepal; and especially S. Lévi, Le Nepal, 3 vols. 1905-8.
[292] The doctrine of the Âdi-Buddha is fully stated in the metrical version of the Kâraṇḍa-vyûha which appears to be a later paraphrase of the prose edition. See Winternitz, Gesch. Ind. Lit. II. i. 238.
[292] The concept of the Âdi-Buddha is thoroughly explained in the metrical version of the Kâraṇḍa-vyûha, which seems to be a later rephrasing of the prose version. See Winternitz, Gesch. Ind. Lit. II. i. 238.
[297] Hardly any Buddhist Tantras have been edited in Europe. See Bendall, Subhâshita-sangraha for a collection of extracts (also published in Muséon, 1905), and De la Vallée Poussin, Bouddhisme, Études el Matériaux. Id. Pancakrama, 1896.
[297] Very few Buddhist Tantras have been edited in Europe. Check out Bendall's Subhâshita-sangraha for a collection of excerpts (also published in Muséon, 1905), and De la Vallée Poussin's Bouddhisme, Études et Matériaux. Id. Pancakrama, 1896.
While this book was going through the press I received the Tibetan Tantra called Shrichakrasambhara (Avalon's Tantric Texts, vol. VII) with introduction by A. Avalon, but have not been able to make use of it.
While this book was being printed, I received the Tibetan Tantra called Shrichakrasambhara (Avalon's Tantric Texts, vol. VII) with an introduction by A. Avalon, but I haven't been able to use it.
[298] See Foucher, Iconographie bouddhique, pp. 8 ff. De la Vallée Poussin, Bouddhisme, Études et Matériaux, pp. 213 ff. For Japanese tantric ceremonies see the Si-Do-In-Dzon in the Annales du Musée Guimet, vol. VIII.
[298] See Foucher, Iconographie bouddhique, pp. 8 ff. De la Vallée Poussin, Bouddhisme, Études et Matériaux, pp. 213 ff. For Japanese tantric ceremonies, see the Si-Do-In-Dzon in the Annales du Musée Guimet, vol. VIII.
[299] In ancient Egypt also the Kher ḥeb or magician-priest claimed the power of becoming various gods. See Budge, Osiris, II. 170 and Wiedemann, Magic im alten Aegypten, 13 ff.
[299] In ancient Egypt, the Kher ḥeb, or magician-priest, asserted that he could transform into different gods. See Budge, Osiris, II. 170 and Wiedemann, Magic im alten Aegypten, 13 ff.
[300] The Brahmâ-vihâras. E.g. Dig. Nik. XIII.
[301] Mahâsukhakâya or vajrakâya.
Mahâsukhakâya or vajrakâya.
[303] See Subhâshita-saṅgraha edited by Bendall. Part II. pp. 29 ff. especially p. 41. Parasvaharaṇam kâryam paradârânishevaṇam Vaktavyam cânṛitam nityam sarvabuddhâṃśca ghâtayet. See also Tathâgata-guhyaka in Rajendralal Mitra's Sanskrit Literature in Nepal, pp. 261-264.
[303] See Subhâshita-saṅgraha edited by Bendall. Part II. pp. 29 ff. especially p. 41. It's necessary to carry out parasvaharaṇam and to make use of someone else's wife should be spoken about constantly; it kills all wisdom. Also refer to Tathâgata-guhyaka in Rajendralal Mitra's Sanskrit Literature in Nepal, pp. 261-264.
[304] For instance De la Vallée Poussin in his Bouddhisme, Études et Matériaux, 1896. In his later work, Bouddhisme, Opinions sur l'histoire de la dogmatique, he modifies his earlier views.
[304] For example, De la Vallée Poussin in his Buddhism, Studies and Materials, 1896. In his later work, Buddhism, Views on the History of Dogma, he updates his earlier perspectives.
[306] KathâV. XXIII. 1 and 2.
[307] These appendices are later additions to the original text but they were translated into Chinese in the third century. Among the oldest Sanskrit MSS. from Japan is the Ushṇisha-vijaya-dhâraṇî and there is a goddess with a similar name. But the Dhâraṇî is not Śâktist. See text in Anec. Oxon. Aryan series.
[307] These appendices were added later to the original text but were translated into Chinese in the third century. Among the oldest Sanskrit manuscripts from Japan is the Ushṇisha-vijaya-dhâraṇî, and there's a goddess with a similar name. However, the Dhâraṇî is not related to Śâktism. See text in Anec. Oxon. Aryan series.
[309] Mahâyâna-sûtrâlankâra, IX. 46. Of course there may be many other allusions in yet unedited works of Asanga but it is noticeable that this allusion to maithuna is only made in passing and is not connected with the essence of his teaching.
[309] Mahâyâna-sûtrâlankâra, IX. 46. There may be many other references in unedited works of Asanga, but it's worth noting that this mention of maithuna is only brief and not tied to the core of his teachings.
[310] Transl. Takakusu, p. 51.
[311] Târanâtha, chap. XXII seems also to assign a late origin to the Tantras though his remarks are neither clear nor consistent with what he says in other passages. He is doubtless right in suggesting that tantric rites were practised surreptitiously before they were recognized openly.
[311] Târanâtha, chapter XXII also seems to suggest that the Tantras originated later, although his comments are neither clear nor consistent with what he states in other sections. He is certainly correct in implying that tantric rituals were performed secretly before they were publicly acknowledged.
[312] It is about this time too that we hear of Tantrism in Hinduism. In the drama Mâlatî and Mâdhava (c. 730 A.D.) the heroine is kidnapped and is about to be sacrificed to the goddess Candâ when she is rescued.
[312] Around this time, we also learn about Tantrism in Hinduism. In the play Mâlatî and Mâdhava (c. 730 A.D.), the main character is kidnapped and is about to be sacrificed to the goddess Candâ when she gets rescued.
[314] E.g. Lalitavajra, Lîlâvajra, Buddhaśânti, Ratnavajra. Târanâtha also (tr. Schiefner, p. 264) speaks of Tantras "Welche aus Udyana gebracht und nie in Indien gewesen sind." It is also noticeable, as Grünwedel has pointed out, that many of the siddhas or sorcerers bear names which have no meaning in Aryan languages: Bir-va-pa, Na-ro-pa, Lui-pa, etc. A curious late tradition represents Śâktism as coming from China. See a quotation from the Mahâcînatantra in the Archæological Survey of Mayurabhanj, p. xiv. Either China is here used loosely for some country north of the Himalayas or the story is pure fancy, for with rare exceptions (for instance the Lamaism of the Yüan dynasty) the Chinese seem to have rejected Śâktist works or even to have expurgated them, e.g. the Tathâgata-guhyaka.
[314] For example, Lalitavajra, Lîlâvajra, Buddhaśânti, Ratnavajra. Târanâtha also (translated by Schiefner, p. 264) mentions Tantras "brought from Udyana and never present in India." It is also noticeable, as Grünwedel pointed out, that many of the siddhas or sorcerers have names that have no meaning in Aryan languages: Bir-va-pa, Na-ro-pa, Lui-pa, etc. A curious later tradition suggests that Śâktism came from China. See a quotation from the Mahâcînatantra in the Archæological Survey of Mayurabhanj, p. xiv. Either "China" is used here broadly to refer to some country north of the Himalayas, or the story is simply made up, as the Chinese seem to have largely rejected Śâktist works or even censored them, for example, the Tathâgata-guhyaka.
[316] Traces of Buddhism still exist, for according to Bühler the Nilamata Purâṇa orders the image of Buddha to be worshipped on Vaisakha 15 to the accompaniment of recitations by Buddhist ascetics.
[316] Traces of Buddhism still exist, as Bühler notes that the Nilamata Purâṇa instructs that the image of Buddha should be worshipped on Vaisakha 15, accompanied by recitations from Buddhist ascetics.
[317] For notices of Kashmirian religion see Stein's translation of the Râjataranginî and Bühler, Tour in Search of Sanskrit manuscripts. J. Bomb. A.S. 1877.
[317] For information about Kashmirian religion, check out Stein's translation of the Râjataranginî and Bühler's Tour in Search of Sanskrit Manuscripts. J. Bomb. A.S. 1877.
[320] Also called Kumâra.
Also known as Kumâra.
[324] So too the Saṃhitâs of the Vaishṇavas and the Âgamas of the Śaivas are said to consist of four quarters teaching Jñâna, Yoga, Kriyâ and Caryâ respectively. See Schrader, Introd. to Pâncarâtra, p. 22. Sometimes five classes of Tantras are enumerated which are perhaps all subdivisions of the Anuttara-yoga, namely Guhyasamâja, Mâyâjâla, Buddhasammâyoga, Candraguhyatilaka, Manjuśrîkrodha. See Târanâtha (Schiefner), p. 221.
[324] Similarly, the Saṃhitâs of the Vaishṇavas and the Âgamas of the Śaivas are said to consist of four parts that teach Knowledge, Yoga, Action, and Conduct respectively. See Schrader, Introd. to Pâncarâtra, p. 22. Sometimes five types of Tantras are listed, which might all be subdivisions of the Anuttara-yoga, namely Guhyasamâja, Mâyâjâla, Buddhasammâyoga, Candraguhyatilaka, and Manjuśrîkrodha. See Târanâtha (Schiefner), p. 221.
[329] Schiefner (transl. Târanâtha, p. 221) describes these Śrâvakas or Hinayanists as "Saindhavas welche Çrâvakas aus Simhala u.s.w. waren." They are apparently the same as the Saindhava-çrâvakas often mentioned by Târanâtha. Are they Hinayanists from Sindh where the Sammitiya school was prevalent? See also Pag Sam Jon Zang, pp. cxix, 114 and 134 where Sarat Chandra Das explains Sendha-pa as a brahmanical sect.
[329] Schiefner (transl. Târanâtha, p. 221) describes these Śrâvakas or Hinayanists as "Saindhavas who were Śrâvakas from Simhala, etc." They seem to be the same as the Saindhava-śrāvakās frequently mentioned by Târanâtha. Are they Hinayanists from Sindh, where the Sammitiya school was common? See also Pag Sam Jon Zang, pp. cxix, 114 and 134, where Sarat Chandra Das explains Sendha-pa as a brahmanical sect.
[330] The curious story (Târanâtha, p. 206) in which a Buddhist at first refuses on religious grounds to take part in the evocation of a demon seems also to hint at a disapproval of magic.
[330] The interesting story (Târanâtha, p. 206) where a Buddhist initially declines on religious grounds to participate in summoning a demon also seems to suggest a negative view of magic.
[331] This passage was written about 1910. In the curious temple at Gaya called Bishnupad the chief object of veneration is a foot-like mark. Such impressions are venerated in many parts of the world as Buddha's feet and it seems probable, considering the locality, that this footprint was attributed to Buddha before it was transferred to Vishnu.
[331] This passage was written around 1910. In the intriguing temple at Gaya known as Bishnupad, the main object of worship is a foot-like mark. These types of impressions are revered in various places around the world as Buddha's feet, and it seems likely, given the location, that this footprint was originally attributed to Buddha before it was associated with Vishnu.
BOOK V
HINDUISM
The present book deals with Hinduism and includes the period just treated in Book IV. In many epochs the same mythological and metaphysical ideas appear in a double form, Brahmanic and Buddhist, and it is hard to say which form is the earlier.
The current book focuses on Hinduism and covers the time period discussed in Book IV. In various eras, the same mythological and philosophical concepts show up in two versions, Brahmanic and Buddhist, making it difficult to determine which version came first.
Any work which like the present adopts a geographical and historical treatment is bound to make Buddhism seem more important than Hinduism and rightly, for the conversion and transformation of China, Japan and many other countries are a series of exploits of great moment for the history not merely of religion but of civilization. Yet when I think of the antiquity, variety and vitality of Hinduism in India—no small sphere—the nine chapters which follow seem very inadequate. I can only urge that though it would be easy to fill an encyclopædia with accounts of Indian beliefs and practices, yet there is often great similarity under superficial differences: the main lines of thought are less numerous than they seem to be at first sight and they tend to converge.
Any work like this one that takes a geographical and historical approach is likely to make Buddhism appear more significant than Hinduism, and that's justified. The conversion and transformation of China, Japan, and many other countries represent crucial events in the history of not just religion but civilization as a whole. However, when I think about the age, diversity, and vitality of Hinduism in India—no small area—the nine chapters that follow seem quite insufficient. I can only emphasize that while it would be easy to fill an encyclopedia with descriptions of Indian beliefs and practices, there is often a lot of similarity beneath the surface differences: the main lines of thought are fewer than they initially seem and tend to converge.
CHAPTER XXV
ŚIVA AND VISHṆU
1
The striking difference between the earlier and later phases of Indian religious belief, between the Vedic hymns, Brâhmaṇas, Upanishads and their accessory treatises on the one hand, and the epics, Purâṇas, Tantras and later literature on the other, is due chiefly to the predominance in the latter of the great gods Śiva and Vishṇu, with the attendant features of sectarian worship and personal devotion to a particular deity. The difference is not wholly chronological, for late writers sometimes take the Vedic standpoint and ignore the worship of these deities, but still their prominence in literature, and probably in popular mythology, is posterior to the Vedic period. The change created by their appearance is not merely the addition of two imposing figures to an already ample pantheon; it is a revolution which might be described as the introduction of a new religion, except that it does not come as the enemy or destroyer of the old. The worship of the new deities grows up peacefully in the midst of the ancient rites; they receive the homage of the same population and the ministrations of the same priests. The transition is obscured but also was facilitated by the strength of Buddhism during the period when it occurred. The Brahmans, confronted by this formidable adversary, were disposed to favour any popular religious movement which they could adapt to their interests.
The noticeable difference between the early and later phases of Indian religious belief, specifically between the Vedic hymns, Brâhmaṇas, Upanishads and their related texts on one side, and the epics, Purâṇas, Tantras, and later literature on the other, is mainly due to the dominance of the major gods Śiva and Vishṇu in the latter, along with the accompanying characteristics of sectarian worship and personal devotion to specific deities. The difference isn't entirely chronological, as some later writers sometimes adopt the Vedic perspective and overlook the worship of these gods, but their prominence in literature, and likely in popular mythology, comes after the Vedic period. The change brought about by their emergence isn't just the addition of two significant figures to an already large pantheon; it represents a transformation that could be described as the introduction of a new religion, although it doesn't oppose or destroy the old one. The worship of the new deities develops quietly alongside the ancient rites; they gain the respect of the same population and the service of the same priests. The transition is not only hidden but was also made easier by the influence of Buddhism during this time. The Brahmins, faced with this strong competitor, were inclined to support any popular religious movement that they could align with their interests.
When the Hindu revival sets in under the Guptas, and Buddhism begins to decline, we find that a change has taken place which must have begun several centuries before, though our imperfect chronology does not permit us to date it. Whereas the Vedic sacrificers propitiated all the gods impartially and regarded ritual as a sacred science giving power over nature, the worshipper of the later deities is generally sectarian and often emotional. He selects one for his adoration, and this selected deity becomes not merely a great god among others [137] but a gigantic cosmical figure in whom centre the philosophy, poetry and passion of his devotees. He is almost God in the European sense, but still Indian deities, though they may have a monopoly of adoration in their own sects, are never entirely similar to Jehovah or Allah. They are at once more mythical, more human and more philosophical, since they are conceived of not as creators and rulers external to the world, but as forces manifesting themselves in nature. An exuberant mythology bestows on them monstrous forms, celestial residences, wives and offspring: they make occasional appearances in this world as men and animals; they act under the influence of passions which if titanic, are but human feelings magnified. The philosopher accommodates them to his system by saying that Vishṇu or Śiva is the form which the Supreme Spirit assumes as Lord of the visible universe, a form which is real only in the same sense that the visible world itself is real.
When the Hindu revival begins under the Guptas and Buddhism starts to decline, we notice a change that must have begun several centuries earlier, although our incomplete timeline doesn't allow us to pinpoint it. While the Vedic sacrificers honored all gods equally and viewed ritual as a sacred science that granted power over nature, the worshipper of later deities is usually more sectarian and emotionally invested. They choose one deity for their worship, and this chosen god becomes not just a significant figure among others [137] but a massive cosmological figure embodying the philosophy, poetry, and passion of their followers. This deity is almost akin to God in a European sense, but Indian deities, while they may dominate worship within their own sects, are never quite the same as Jehovah or Allah. They are more mythical, human, and philosophical, as they are seen not as creators and rulers separate from the world, but as forces that manifest in nature. A vibrant mythology gives them monstrous forms, heavenly abodes, wives, and children; they sometimes appear in this world as humans or animals and act under the sway of passions that, though monumental, are just amplified human emotions. The philosopher integrates them into his system by suggesting that Vishṇu or Śiva represents the form the Supreme Spirit takes as the Lord of the visible universe, a form that is real in the same way that the visible world itself is real.
Vishṇu and Rudra are known even to the Ṛig Veda but as deities of no special eminence. It is only after the Vedic age that they became, each for his own worshippers, undisputed Lords of the Universe. A limiting date to the antiquity of Śivaism and Vishnuism, as their cults may be called, is furnished by Buddhist literature, at any rate for north-eastern India. The Pali Piṭakas frequently[334] introduce popular deities, but give no prominence to Vishṇu and Śiva. They are apparently mentioned under the names of Veṇhu and Isâna, but are not differentiated from a host of spirits now forgotten. The Piṭakas have no prejudices in the matter of deities and their object is to represent the most powerful of them as admitting their inferiority to the Buddha. If Śiva and Vishṇu are not put forward in the same way as Brahmâ and Indra, the inference seems clear: it had not occurred to anyone that they were particularly important.
Vishnu and Rudra are mentioned in the Rig Veda, but not as especially important deities. It wasn't until after the Vedic period that they became, for their followers, acknowledged as the Lords of the Universe. Buddhist literature provides a timeframe for the origins of Shaivism and Vaishnavism, particularly in northeastern India. The Pali Pitakas often introduce popular deities but do not highlight Vishnu and Shiva. They are mentioned as Veṇhu and Isâna, but are not distinguished from many other forgotten spirits. The Pitakas are unbiased regarding deities, aiming to show the most powerful ones as acknowledging their lesser status in relation to the Buddha. If Shiva and Vishnu are not elevated in the same way as Brahma and Indra, it suggests that their significance had not yet been recognized.
The suttas of the Dîgha Nikâya in which these lists of deities occur were perhaps composed before 300 B.C.[335] About that date Megasthenes, the Greek envoy at Pataliputra, describes two Indian deities under the names of Dionysus and Herakles. They are generally identified with Kṛishṇa and Śiva. It might be difficult to deduce this identity from an analysis of each [138]description and different authorities have identified both Śiva and Kṛishṇa with Dionysus, but the fact remains that a somewhat superficial foreign observer was impressed with the idea that the Hindus worshipped two great gods. He would hardly have derived this idea from the Vedic pantheon, and it is not clear to what gods he can refer if not to Śiva and Vishṇu. It thus seems probable that these two cults took shape about the fourth century B.C. Their apparently sudden appearance is due to their popular character and to the absence of any record in art. The statuary and carving of the Asokan period and immediately succeeding centuries is exclusively Buddhist. No temples or images remain to illustrate the first growth of Hinduism (as the later form of Indian religion is commonly styled) out of the earlier Brahmanism. Literature (on which we are dependent for our information) takes little account of the early career of popular gods before they win the recognition of the priesthood and aristocracy, but when that recognition is once obtained they appear in all their majesty and without any hint that their honours are recent.
The suttas of the Dîgha Nikâya that include these lists of deities were likely written before 300 B.C.[335] Around that time, Megasthenes, the Greek envoy in Pataliputra, describes two Indian deities by the names of Dionysus and Herakles. They are typically associated with Kṛishṇa and Śiva. It might be challenging to establish this identity just by analyzing each [138]description, and different scholars have linked both Śiva and Kṛishṇa to Dionysus. However, it is clear that a somewhat superficial foreign observer was struck by the idea that Hindus worshiped two major gods. He probably wouldn't have formed this impression based on the Vedic pantheon, and it’s unclear which gods he could be referring to if not Śiva and Vishṇu. It seems likely that these two cults began to emerge around the fourth century B.C. Their seemingly sudden rise is due to their popular nature and the lack of any artistic records. The sculptures and carvings from the Asokan period and the immediately following centuries are exclusively Buddhist. No temples or images exist to show the early development of Hinduism (as the later form of Indian religion is commonly referred to) from earlier Brahmanism. Literature, which we rely on for our information, pays little attention to the early times of popular gods before they gain acceptance from the priesthood and aristocracy, but once that acceptance is achieved, they emerge in all their grandeur without any indication that their honors are new.
As already mentioned, we have evidence that in the fifth or sixth century before Christ the Vedic or Brahmanic religion was not the only form of worship and philosophy in India. There were popular deities and rites to which the Brahmans were not opposed and which they countenanced when it suited them. What takes place in India to-day took place then. When some aboriginal deity becomes important owing to the prosperity of the tribe or locality with which he is connected, he is recognized by the Brahmans and admitted to their pantheon, perhaps as the son or incarnation of some personage more generally accepted as divine. The prestige of the Brahmans is sufficient to make such recognition an honour, but it is also their interest and millennial habit to secure control of every important religious movement and to incorporate rather than suppress. And this incorporation is more than mere recognition: the parvenu god borrows something from the manners and attributes of the olympian society to which he is introduced. The greater he grows, the more considerable is the process of fusion and borrowing. Hindu philosophy ever seeks for the one amongst the many and popular thought, in a more confused way, pursues the same goal. It combines and identifies [139] its deities, feeling dimly that taken singly they are too partial to be truly divine, or it piles attributes upon them striving to make each an adequate divine whole.
As previously mentioned, we have evidence that in the fifth or sixth century BCE, the Vedic or Brahmanic religion wasn't the only form of worship and philosophy in India. There were popular deities and rituals that the Brahmins accepted and supported when it benefited them. What's happening in India today was already happening back then. When an indigenous deity becomes significant due to the prosperity of the tribe or area they are associated with, the Brahmins acknowledge him and include him in their pantheon, possibly as the son or incarnation of a more widely accepted divine figure. The Brahmins' prestige makes this acknowledgment an honor, but it's also in their interest and long-standing tradition to gain control over every major religious movement and to integrate rather than suppress. This integration is more than just acknowledgment: the newly recognized god adopts some traits and characteristics of the established deities he joins. The more prominent he becomes, the greater the blending and borrowing process. Hindu philosophy always seeks the one among the many, and popular thought, in a more muddled way, pursues the same goal. It combines and identifies [139] its deities, sensing that taken individually they are too limited to be truly divine, or it layers attributes onto them in an attempt to make each one an adequate representation of the divine.
Among the processes which have contributed to form Vishṇu and Śiva we must reckon the invasions which entered India from the north-west.[336] In Bactria and Sogdiana there met and were combined the art and religious ideas of Greece and Persia, and whatever elements were imported by the Yüeh-chih and other tribes who came from the Chinese frontier. The personalities of Vishṇu and Śiva need not be ascribed to foreign influence. The ruder invaders took kindly to the worship of Śiva, but there is no proof that they introduced it. But Persian and Græco-Bactrian influence favoured the creation of more definite deities, more personal and more pictorial. The gods of the Vedic hymns are vague and indistinct: the Supreme Being of the Upanishads altogether impersonal, but Mithra and Apollo, though divine in their majesty, are human in their persons and in the appeal they make to humanity. The influence of these foreign conceptions and especially of their representation in art is best seen in Indian Buddhism. Hinduism has not so ancient an artistic record and therefore the Græco-Bactrian influence on it is less obvious, for the sculpture of the Gupta period does not seem due to this inspiration. Neither in outward form nor in character do Vishṇu and Śiva show much more resemblance to Apollo and Mithra than to the Vedic gods. Their exuberant, fantastic shapes, their many heads and arms, are a symbol of their complex and multiple attributes. They are not restricted by the limits of personality but are great polymorphic forces, not to be indicated by the limits of one human shape.[337]
Among the processes that contributed to the formation of Vishṇu and Śiva, we must consider the invasions that came into India from the northwest.[336] In Bactria and Sogdiana, the art and religious ideas of Greece and Persia came together and combined, along with whatever elements were brought by the Yüeh-chih and other tribes from the Chinese frontier. The identities of Vishṇu and Śiva shouldn't necessarily be attributed to foreign influence. The more primitive invaders embraced the worship of Śiva, but there's no evidence that they introduced it. However, Persian and Greco-Bactrian influences encouraged the development of more defined deities that were more personal and visual. The gods found in the Vedic hymns are vague and indistinct: the Supreme Being of the Upanishads is entirely impersonal, while Mithra and Apollo, though divine, have human characteristics and resonate more with humanity. The influence of these foreign concepts, especially their artistic representations, is most clearly seen in Indian Buddhism. Hinduism doesn’t have as ancient an artistic record, so the Greco-Bactrian influence on it is less evident since the sculpture from the Gupta period doesn't seem inspired by this. In neither form nor character do Vishṇu and Śiva resemble Apollo and Mithra much more than the Vedic gods. Their elaborate, fantastical forms, with their multiple heads and arms, symbolize their complex and varied attributes. They transcend the limits of personality and represent great polymorphic forces that can't be confined to a single human shape.[337]
2
Though alike in their grandeur and multiplicity, Vishṇu and Śiva are not otherwise similar. In their completely developed forms they represent two ways of looking at the world. The main ideas of the Vaishṇavas are human and emotional. The deity saves and loves: he asks for a worship of love. He appears in human incarnations and is known as well or better by these incarnations than in his original form. But in Śivaism the main current of thought is scientific and philosophic rather than emotional.[338] This statement may seem strange if one thinks of the wild rites and legends connected with Śiva and his spouse. Nevertheless the fundamental conception of Śivaism, the cosmic force which changes and in changing both destroys and reproduces, is strictly scientific and contrasts with the human, pathetic, loving sentiments of Vishnuism. And scandalous as the worship of the generative principle may become, the potency of this impulse in the world scheme cannot be denied. Agreeably to his character of a force rather than an emotion Śiva does not become incarnate[339] as a popular hero and saviour like Râma or Kṛishṇa, but he assumes various supernatural forms for special purposes. Both worships, despite their differences, show characteristics which are common to most phases of Indian religion. Both seek for deliverance from transmigration and are penetrated with a sense of the sorrow inherent in human and animal life: both develop or adopt philosophical doctrines which rise high above the level usually attained by popular beliefs, and both [141] have erotic aspects in which they fall below the standard of morality usually professed by important sects whether in Asia or Europe.
Though similar in their greatness and diversity, Vishnu and Shiva are quite different. In their fully realized forms, they represent two perspectives on the world. The main themes of the Vaishnavas are human and emotional. The deity saves and loves; he asks for worship rooted in love. He takes on human incarnations and is often better known through these incarnations than in his original form. However, in Shaivism, the primary focus is more scientific and philosophical than emotional.[338] This might seem odd when considering the intense rituals and stories associated with Shiva and his consort. Still, the core idea of Shaivism—the cosmic force that transforms, destroying and recreating—has a strictly scientific basis and stands in contrast to the human, tender, loving sentiments found in Vaishnavism. And while the worship of the generative principle may seem scandalous, the significance of this force in the world order cannot be overlooked. In line with his identity as a force rather than an emotion, Shiva does not incarnate[339] as a popular hero and savior like Rama or Krishna, but he takes on various supernatural forms for specific purposes. Both traditions, despite their differences, share traits common to many aspects of Indian religion. Both seek liberation from the cycle of rebirth and are deeply aware of the sorrow inherent in human and animal existence; both develop or adopt philosophical ideas that rise well above what is typically found in popular beliefs, and both [141] have erotic elements that fall short of the moral standards usually upheld by major sects in both Asia and Europe.
The name Śiva is euphemistic. It means propitious and, like Eumenides, is used as a deprecating and complimentary title for the god of terrors. It is not his earliest designation and does not occur as a proper name in the Ṛig Veda where he is known as Rudra, a word of disputed derivation, but probably meaning the roarer. Comparatively few hymns are addressed to Rudra, but he is clearly distinguished from the other Vedic gods. Whereas they are cheerful and benevolent figures, he is maleficent and terrible: they are gods of the heaven but he is a god of the earth. He is the "man-slayer" and the sender of disease, but if he restrains these activities he can give safety and health. "Slay us not, for thou art gracious," and so the Destroyer comes to be the Gracious One.[340] It has been suggested that the name Śiva is connected with the Tamil word çivappu red and also that Rudra means not the roarer but the red or shining one. These etymologies seem to me possible but not proved. But Rudra is different in character from the other gods of the Ṛig Veda. It would be rash to say that the Aryan invaders of India brought with them no god of this sort but it is probable that this element in their pantheon increased as they gradually united in blood and ideas with the Dravidian population. But we know nothing of the beliefs of the Dravidians at this remote period. We only know that in later ages emotional religion, finding expression as so-called devil-dancing in its lower and as mystical poetry in its higher phases, was prevalent among them.
The name Śiva is a euphemism. It means "auspicious," and like the Eumenides, it serves as a respectful and flattering title for the god associated with fear. It wasn't his original name and doesn't appear as a proper name in the Ṛig Veda, where he’s referred to as Rudra, a term with debated origins but likely meaning "the roarer." There are relatively few hymns dedicated to Rudra, yet he stands apart from the other Vedic gods. While they are joyful and kind, he is ominous and fearsome: they are gods of the heavens, but he is a god of the earth. He is the "man-slayer" and sender of disease, but if he holds back these actions, he can offer safety and health. "Do not slay us, for you are gracious," and thus the Destroyer becomes the Gracious One.[340] It has been proposed that the name Śiva is linked to the Tamil word çivappu, meaning red, and that Rudra signifies not just the roarer but also the red or shining one. These interpretations seem possible to me, but they haven’t been conclusively proven. However, Rudra's character is distinct from the other gods in the Ṛig Veda. It would be unwise to claim that the Aryan invaders of India brought no god of this kind, but it likely that this aspect of their pantheon grew as they gradually mixed in blood and ideas with the Dravidian population. Yet, we know little about the beliefs of the Dravidians from this distant time. We only know that, in later ages, emotional religion found expression through what was known as devil-dancing in its more primitive form and mystical poetry in its more advanced form, which was common among them.
The White Yajur Veda[341] contains a celebrated prayer known as the Śatarudrîya addressed to Rudra or the Rudras, for the power invoked seems to be now many and now one. This deity, who is described by a long string of epithets, receives the name of Śaṅkara (afterwards a well-known epithet of Śiva) and is blue-necked. He is begged to be Śiva or propitious, but the word is an epithet, not a proper name. He haunts mountains and deserted, uncanny places: he is the patron of violent and lawless men, of soldiers and robbers (the two are evidently [142] considered much the same), of thieves, cheats and pilferers,[342] but also of craftsmen and huntsmen and is himself "an observant merchant": he is the lord of hosts of spirits, "ill-formed and of all forms." But he is also a great cosmic force who "dwells in flowing streams and in billows and in tranquil waters and in rivers and on islands ... and at the roots of trees ...": who "exists in incantations, in punishments, in prosperity, in the soil, in the threshing-floor ... in the woods and in the bushes, in sound and in echo ... in young grass and in foam ... in gravel and in streams ... in green things and in dry things.... Reverence to the leaf and to him who is in the fall of the leaf, the threatener, the slayer, the vexer and the afflicter." Here we see how an evil and disreputable god, the patron of low castes and violent occupations, becomes associated with the uncanny forces of nature and is on the way to become an All-God.[343]
The White Yajur Veda[341] features a well-known prayer called the Śatarudrîya, which is addressed to Rudra or the Rudras, suggesting that this power can be both many and one. This deity, identified by a long list of titles, is referred to as Śaṅkara (later a familiar title for Śiva) and is described as having a blue neck. Worshippers plead for him to be Śiva or favorable, noting that "Śiva" is an epithet rather than a proper name. He is often found in mountains and eerie, abandoned places: he is the protector of violent and lawless people, soldiers, and robbers (who are clearly seen as similar), as well as thieves, cheats, and petty criminals,[342] but he is also associated with craftsmen and hunters and is referred to as an "observant merchant." He is the master of a multitude of spirits, "ill-formed and of all forms." Additionally, he is a significant cosmic force who "resides in flowing streams, billows, calm waters, rivers, and on islands ... and at the roots of trees ...": who "exists in chants, punishment, prosperity, soil, the threshing-floor ... in woods and bushes, in sound and echo ... in young grass and foam ... in gravel and streams ... in green things and dry things.... Honor the leaf and him who is in the falling leaf, the threatener, the slayer, the tormentor, and the afflicter." Here, we observe how a malevolent and disreputable god—the patron of low castes and violent professions—becomes linked with the mysterious forces of nature and is on the path to becoming an All-God.[343]
Rudra is frequently mentioned in the Atharva Veda. He is conceived much as in the Śatarudrîya, and is the lord of spirits and of animals. "For thee the beasts of the wood, the deer, swans and various winged birds are placed in the forest: thy living creatures exist in the waters: for thee the celestial waters flow. Thou shootest at the monsters of the ocean, and there is to thee nothing far or near."[344]
Rudra is often mentioned in the Atharva Veda. He is viewed similarly to how he is depicted in the Śatarudrîya, and he is the master of spirits and animals. "For you, the beasts of the forest, the deer, swans, and various birds are found in the woods: your living creatures thrive in the waters: for you, the heavenly waters flow. You aim at the monsters of the ocean, and nothing is distant or close to you."[344]
These passages show that the main conceptions out of which the character of the later Śiva is built existed in Vedic times. The Rudra of the Yajur and Atharva Vedas is not Brahmanic: he is not the god of priests and orderly ritual, but of wild people and places. But he is not a petty provincial demon who afflicts rustics and their cattle. Though there is some hesitation between one Rudra and many Rudras, the destructive forces are unified in thought and the destroyer is not opposed to creation as a devil or as the principle of evil, but with profounder insight is recognized as the Lord and Law of all living things.
These passages demonstrate that the main ideas that shaped the character of the later Śiva were present during Vedic times. The Rudra found in the Yajur and Atharva Vedas isn't Brahmanic; he isn't the god of priests and formal rituals, but rather of wild people and untamed places. However, he isn't just a minor local demon who targets peasants and their livestock. While there's some uncertainty about whether to regard him as one Rudra or many, the destructive forces are unified in concept, and the destroyer is not seen as a devil or the embodiment of evil. Instead, with deeper understanding, he is recognized as the Lord and Law of all living beings.
But though the outline of Śiva is found in Vedic writings, later centuries added new features to his cult. Chief among these is the worship of a column known as the Linga, the emblem under which he is now most commonly adored. It is a phallic [143] symbol though usually decent in appearance. The Vedas do not countenance this worship and it is not clear that it was even known to them.[345] It is first enjoined in the Mahâbhârata and there only in two passages[346] which appear to be late additions. The inference seems to be that it was accepted as part of Hinduism just about the time that our edition of the Mahâbhârata was compiled.[347] The old theory that it was borrowed from aboriginal and especially from Dravidian tribes[348] is now discredited. In the first place the instances cited of phallic worship among aboriginal tribes are not particularly numerous or striking. Secondly, linga worship, though prevalent in the south, is not confined to it, but flourishes in all parts of India, even in Assam and Nepal. Thirdly, it is not connected with low castes, with orgies, with obscene or bloodthirsty rites or with anything which can be called un-Aryan. It forms part of the private devotions of the strictest Brahmans, and despite the significance of the emblem, the worship offered to it is perfectly decorous.[349] The evidence thus suggests that this cultus grew up among Brahmanical Hindus in the early centuries of our era. The idea that there was something divine in virility and generation already existed. The choice of the symbol—the stone pillar—may have been influenced by two circumstances. Firstly, the Buddhist veneration of stûpas, especially miniature stûpas, must have made familiar the idea that a cone or column is a religious emblem,[350] and secondly the linga may be compared to [144] the carved pillars or stone standards erected in honour of Vishṇu. Some lingas are carved and bear one or four faces, thus entirely losing any phallic appearance. The wide extension of this cult, though its origin seems late, is remarkable. Something similar may be seen in the worship of Gaṇeśa: the first records of it are even later, but it is now universal in India.
But even though the concept of Śiva appears in Vedic texts, later centuries added new aspects to his worship. The most significant change is the veneration of a column known as the Linga, which is the symbol he is most often associated with today. It's a phallic symbol, although it usually looks quite respectable. The Vedas don’t endorse this form of worship, and it’s unclear whether they were even aware of it. It is first mentioned in the Mahābhārata, but only in two passages that seem like later additions. This suggests that it was integrated into Hinduism around the time our version of the Mahābhārata was put together. The old theory claiming it was borrowed from indigenous and particularly Dravidian tribes is now dismissed. First, the examples of phallic worship among indigenous tribes are not very numerous or impressive. Secondly, linga worship, while common in the south, is not limited to that region and thrives all over India, including Assam and Nepal. Thirdly, it isn't tied to lower castes, orgies, obscene or violent rituals, or anything that might be labeled as un-Aryan. It is part of the private prayers of the most devout Brahmans, and despite the symbol's significance, the worship performed is quite respectable. The evidence indicates that this practice developed among Brahmanical Hindus in the early centuries of our era. The belief that there was something sacred in masculinity and creation had already been established. The selection of the symbol—the stone pillar—might have been influenced by two factors. First, the Buddhist respect for stūpas, particularly miniature ones, likely familiarized people with the concept of a cone or column as a religious symbol. Secondly, the linga may be likened to the carved pillars or stone standards erected in honor of Vishṇu. Some lingas are carved with one or four faces, completely losing any phallic resemblance. The widespread nature of this worship, despite its relatively recent origins, is noteworthy. A similar trend can be seen in the worship of Gaṇeśa: the earliest records of it are even later, yet it is now found everywhere in India.
It may seem strange that a religion whose outward ceremonies though unassuming and modest consist chiefly of the worship of the linga, should draw its adherents largely from the educated classes and be under no moral or social stigma. Yet as an idea, as a philosophy, Śivaism possesses truth and force. It gives the best picture which humanity has drawn of the Lord of this world, not indeed of the ideal to which the saint aspires, nor of the fancies with which hope and emotion people the spheres behind the veil, but of the force which rules the Universe as it is, which reproduces and destroys, and in performing one of these acts necessarily performs the other, seeing that both are but aspects of change. For all animal and human existence[351] is the product of sexual desire: it is but the temporary and transitory form of a force having neither beginning nor end but continually manifesting itself in individuals who must have a beginning and an end. This force, to which European taste bids us refer with such reticence, is the true creator of the world. Not only is it unceasingly performing the central miracle of producing new lives but it accompanies it by unnumbered accessory miracles, which provide the new born child with nourishment and make lowly organisms care for their young as if they were gifted with human intelligence. But the Creator is also the Destroyer, not in anger but by the very nature of his activity. When the series of changes culminates in a crisis and an individual breaks up, we see death and destruction, but in reality they occur throughout the process of growth. The egg is destroyed when the chicken is hatched: the embryo ceases to exist when the child is born; when the man comes into being, the child is no more. And for change, improvement and progress death is as necessary as birth. A world of immortals would be a static world.
It may seem odd that a religion whose outward ceremonies, though simple and modest, mainly involve the worship of the linga, attracts many followers from educated circles and faces no moral or social stigma. Yet, as a concept and philosophy, Śivaism holds significant truth and strength. It offers the most accurate representation of the Lord of this world—not the ideal that a saint strives for, nor the dreams that hope and emotion populate in the realms beyond our understanding, but the force that governs the Universe as it is, creating and destroying, and in doing one, inevitably doing the other, since both are merely different sides of change. All animal and human existence[351] stems from sexual desire: it is just the temporary and fleeting manifestation of a force with no beginning or end that continually expresses itself in individuals who must have a start and finish. This force, to which European sensibilities encourage us to refer with caution, is the true creator of the world. It not only continuously performs the central miracle of generating new lives but accompanies this with countless additional miracles that provide nourishment to newborns and prompt lower organisms to care for their young as if they possess human intelligence. However, the Creator is also the Destroyer, not out of anger but by the very nature of his activity. When the cycle of changes reaches a peak and an individual ceases to exist, we witness death and destruction, but in reality, these happen throughout the process of growth. The egg is destroyed when the chicken hatches; the embryo no longer exists when the child is born; when the man comes into being, the child is gone. And for change, growth, and progress, death is as essential as birth. A world of immortals would be a stagnant world.
When once the figure of Śiva has taken definite shape, [145] attributes and epithets are lavished on it in profusion. He is the great ascetic, for asceticism in India means power, and Śiva is the personification of the powers of nature. He may alternate strangely between austerities and wild debauch, but the sentimentality of some Kṛishṇaite sects is alien to him. He is a magician, the lord of troops of spirits, and thus draws into his circle all the old animistic worship. But he is also identified with Time (Mahâkâla) and Death (Mṛityu) and as presiding over procreation he is Ardhanareśvara, half man, half woman. Stories are invented or adapted to account for his various attributes, and he is provided with a divine family. He dwells on Mount Kailâsa: he has three eyes: above the central one is the crescent of the moon and the stream of the Ganges descends from his braided hair: his throat is blue and encircled by a serpent and a necklace of skulls. In his hands he carries a three-pronged trident and a drum. But the effigy or description varies, for Śiva is adored under many forms. He is Mahâdeva, the Great God, Hara the Seizer, Bhairava the terrible one, Paśupati, the Lord of cattle, that is of human souls who are compared to beasts. Local gods and heroes are identified with him. Thus Gor Bâba,[352] said to be a deified ghost of the aboriginal races, reappears as Goreśvara and is counted a form of Śiva, as is also Khandoba or Khande Rao, a deity connected with dogs. Gaṇeśa, "the Lord of Hosts," the God who removes obstacles and is represented with an elephant's head and accompanied by a rat, is recognized as Śiva's son. Another son is Skanda or Kârtikeya, the God of War, a great deity in Ceylon and southern India. But more important both for the absorption of aboriginal cults and for its influence on speculation and morality is the part played by Śiva's wife or female counterpart.
Once the figure of Śiva takes a definite shape, [145] attributes and titles are generously attributed to it. He is the great ascetic, since asceticism in India represents power, and Śiva embodies the forces of nature. He can switch oddly between strict self-discipline and wild indulgence, but the sentimentality found in some Kṛishṇaite sects is foreign to him. He is a magician, the ruler of bands of spirits, drawing in all the old animistic worship. He is also associated with Time (Mahâkâla) and Death (Mṛityu), and as the overseer of procreation, he is Ardhanareśvara, half man, half woman. Stories are created or adapted to explain his various attributes, and he is given a divine family. He resides on Mount Kailâsa: he has three eyes, with the crescent moon above the central one and the Ganges flowing from his braided hair: his throat is blue and surrounded by a serpent and a necklace of skulls. In his hands, he holds a three-pronged trident and a drum. However, the representation or description varies because Śiva is worshipped in many forms. He is Mahâdeva, the Great God, Hara the Seizer, Bhairava the Terrible One, Paśupati, the Lord of Cattle, which refers to human souls compared to beasts. Local deities and heroes are aligned with him. Thus, Gor Bâba,[352] said to be a deified spirit of the indigenous peoples, appears as Goreśvara and is regarded as a form of Śiva, as is Khandoba or Khande Rao, a deity linked to dogs. Gaṇeśa, "the Lord of Hosts," the God who removes obstacles and is depicted with an elephant's head and a rat as his companion, is recognized as Śiva's son. Another son is Skanda or Kârtikeya, the God of War, a prominent deity in Ceylon and southern India. But even more significant for the incorporation of indigenous cults and its impact on thought and ethics is the role of Śiva's wife or female counterpart.
The worship of goddesses, though found in many sects, is specially connected with Śivaism. A figure analogous to the Madonna, the kind and compassionate goddess who helps and pities all, appears in later Buddhism but for some reason this train of thought has not been usual in India. Lakshmî, Sarasvatî and Sîtâ are benevolent, but they hold no great position in popular esteem,[353] and the being who attracts millions of worshippers [146] under such names as Kâlî, Durgâ, or Mahâdevî, though she has many forms and aspects, is most commonly represented as a terrible goddess who demands offerings of blood. The worship of this goddess or goddesses, for it is hard to say if she is one or many, is treated of in a separate chapter. Though in shrines dedicated to Śiva his female counterpart or energy (Śakti) also receives recognition, yet she is revered as the spouse of her lord to whom honour is primarily due. But in Śâktist worship adoration is offered to the Śakti as being the form in which his power is made manifest or even as the essential Godhead.
The worship of goddesses, found in many sects, is especially linked to Śivaism. A figure similar to the Madonna, the kind and compassionate goddess who assists and empathizes with everyone, appears in later Buddhism, but for some reason, this idea hasn't been common in India. Lakshmî, Sarasvatî, and Sîtâ are benevolent figures, but they don't hold a significant place in popular regard,[353] while the being who attracts millions of worshippers under names like Kâlî, Durgâ, or Mahâdevî, though she takes on many forms and aspects, is most often depicted as a fierce goddess who demands blood offerings. The worship of this goddess or goddesses, as it's difficult to determine if she is one or many, is discussed in a separate chapter. Although in shrines dedicated to Śiva, his female counterpart or energy (Śakti) is also acknowledged, she is honored primarily as the wife of her lord, to whom the main respect is owed. However, in Śâktist worship, devotion is directed towards the Śakti as the manifestation of his power or even as the essential Godhead.
3
Let us now pass on to Vishṇu. Though not one of the great gods of the Veda, he is mentioned fairly often and with respect. Indian commentators and comparative mythologists agree that he is a solar deity. His chief exploit is that he took (or perhaps in the earlier version habitually takes) three strides. This was originally a description of the sun's progress across the firmament but grew into a myth which relates that when the earth was conquered by demons, Vishṇu became incarnate as a dwarf and induced the demon king to promise him as much space as he could measure in three steps. Then, appearing in his true form, he strode across earth and heaven and recovered the world for mankind. His special character as the Preserver is already outlined in the Veda. He is always benevolent: he took his three steps for the good of men: he established and preserves the heavens and earth. But he is not the principal solar deity of the Ṛig Veda: Sûrya, Savitri and Pushan receive more invocations. Though one hymn says that no one knows the limits of his greatness, other passages show that he has no pre-eminence, and even in the Mahâbhârata and the Vishṇu-Purâṇa itself he is numbered among the Âdityas or sons of Aditi. In the Brâhmaṇas, he is somewhat more important than in the Ṛig Veda,[354] though he has not yet attained to any position like that which he afterwards occupies.
Let’s now talk about Vishṇu. While he isn’t one of the major gods of the Veda, he is mentioned quite frequently and with respect. Indian scholars and mythologists agree that he is a sun deity. His main story is about him taking (or maybe in the earlier version, habitually taking) three steps. This was originally a way to describe the sun’s journey across the sky but evolved into a myth where, when the earth was taken over by demons, Vishṇu incarnated as a dwarf and got the demon king to promise him as much land as he could measure in three steps. Then, revealing his true form, he stepped across the earth and heaven to reclaim the world for humanity. His role as the Preserver is already hinted at in the Veda. He is always kind: he took his three steps for the benefit of people, and he establishes and maintains the heavens and earth. However, he’s not the main solar deity of the Ṛig Veda; Sûrya, Savitri, and Pushan receive more praises. While one hymn claims that no one knows the breadth of his greatness, other texts indicate that he doesn’t hold a top position, and even in the Mahâbhârata and the Vishṇu-Purâṇa, he is counted among the Âdityas or sons of Aditi. In the Brâhmaṇas, he is a bit more significant than in the Ṛig Veda,[354] but he hasn't yet reached the status he later attains.
Just as for Śiva, so for Vishṇu we have no clear record of the steps by which he advanced from a modest rank to the [147] position of having but one rival in the popular esteem. But the lines on which the change took place are clear. Even in his own Church, Vishṇu himself claims comparatively little attention. He is not a force like Śiva that makes and mars, but a benevolent and retiring personality who keeps things as they are. His worship, as distinguished from that of his incarnations, is not conspicuous in modern India, especially in the north. In the south he is less overshadowed by Kṛishṇa, and many great temples have been erected in his honour. In Travancore, which is formally dedicated to him as his special domain, he is adored under the name of Padmanabha. But his real claim to reverence, his appeal to the Indian heart, is due to the fact that certain deified human heroes, particularly Râma and Kṛishṇa, are identified with him.
Just as with Śiva, we don't have a clear record of how Vishṇu went from a modest status to the [147] position of being one of the most respected figures. However, the way this transformation happened is evident. Even within his own followers, Vishṇu doesn't demand much attention. He isn't a dynamic force like Śiva that creates or destroys; instead, he's a kind and reserved figure who maintains the status quo. His worship, unlike that of his incarnations, isn’t very noticeable in modern India, especially in the north. In the south, he is less overshadowed by Kṛishṇa, and many grand temples have been built in his honor. In Travancore, which is officially recognized as his special territory, he is worshipped as Padmanabha. However, he earns respect largely because certain deified human heroes, especially Râma and Kṛishṇa, are linked to him.
Deification is common in India.[355] It exists to the present day and even defunct Europeans do not escape its operation. In modern times, when the idea of reincarnation had become familiar, eminent men like Caitanya or Vallabhâcârya were declared after their death to be embodiments of Kṛishṇa without more ado, but in earlier ages the process was probably double. First of all the departed hero became a powerful ghost or deity in his own right, and then this deity was identified with a Brahmanic god. Many examples prove that a remarkable man receives worship after death quite apart from any idea of incarnation.
Deification is common in India.[355] It continues to this day, and even long-gone Europeans aren’t exempt from it. In modern times, when the concept of reincarnation became widely accepted, notable figures like Caitanya and Vallabhâcārya were declared embodiments of Kṛishṇa after their deaths without much hesitation. However, in earlier times, the process was likely more complex. First, the deceased hero would become a powerful ghost or deity in their own right, and then this deity would be associated with a Brahmanic god. Numerous examples show that an exceptional person receives worship after death, independent of any notion of reincarnation.
The incarnations of Vishṇu are most commonly given as ten[356] but are not all of the same character. The first five, namely, the Fish, Tortoise, Boar, Man-Lion and Dwarf, are mythical, and due to his identification with supernatural creatures playing a benevolent role in legends with which he had originally no connection. The sixth, however, Paraśu-râma or Râma with the axe, may contain historical elements. He is represented as a militant Brahman who in the second age of the world [148] exterminated the Kshatriyas, and after reclaiming Malabar from the sea, settled it with Brahmans. This legend clearly refers to a struggle for supremacy between the two upper castes, though we may doubt if the triumphs attributed to the priestly champion have any foundation in fact. The Râmâyaṇa[357] contains a singular account of a contest between this Râma and the greater hero of the same name in which Paraśu-râma admits the other's superiority. That is to say an epic edited under priestly supervision relates how the hero-god of the warriors vanquishes the hero-god of the priests, and this hero-god of the warriors is then worshipped by common consent as the greater divinity, but under priestly patronage. The tenacity and vitality of the Brahmans enabled them ultimately to lead the conqueror captive, and Râmacandra became a champion of Brahmanism as much as Paraśu-râma.
The avatars of Vishnu are usually listed as ten[356] but they aren't all the same. The first five—Fish, Tortoise, Boar, Man-Lion, and Dwarf—are mythical and are linked to supernatural beings that play helpful roles in legends he originally wasn't connected to. The sixth, however, Paraśu-rāma, or Rama with the axe, might have some historical elements. He's depicted as a warrior Brahman who, in the second age of the world[148], wiped out the Kshatriyas and, after reclaiming Malabar from the sea, settled it with Brahmans. This legend clearly hints at a struggle for power between the two upper castes, although we might question if the victories credited to this priestly champion are based on real events. The Rāmāyaṇa[357] includes a unique story of a contest between this Rama and the more prominent hero of the same name, where Paraśu-rāma acknowledges the other's superiority. In other words, an epic written under priestly guidance shows how the hero-god of the warriors defeats the hero-god of the priests, and this warrior-god is subsequently worshipped by popular agreement as the greater divinity, but still under the support of the priests. The persistence and influence of the Brahmans ultimately allowed them to bring the conqueror under their control, and Rāmacandra became a champion of Brahmanism just like Paraśu-rāma.
Very interesting too is the ninth avatâra (to leave for a moment the strict numerical order) or Buddha.[358] The reason assigned in Brahmanic literature for Vishṇu's appearance in this character is that he wished to mislead the enemies of the gods by false teaching, or that out of compassion for animals he preached the abolition of Vedic sacrifices. Neither explanation is very plausible and it is pretty clear that in the period when degenerate Buddhism offered no objection to deification and mythology, the Brahmans sanctioned the worship of the Buddha under their auspices. But they did so only in a half-hearted way. The Buddha was so important a personage that he had to be explained by the intervention, kindly or hostile, of a deity.[359]
Also quite interesting is the ninth avatar (setting aside the strict numerical order for a moment) or Buddha.[358] The reason given in Brahmanic literature for Vishṇu's appearance in this form is that he wanted to mislead the enemies of the gods with false teachings, or that out of compassion for animals, he preached against Vedic sacrifices. Neither explanation seems very convincing, and it’s pretty clear that during the time when declining Buddhism faced no resistance to deification and mythology, the Brahmans allowed the worship of the Buddha under their authority. However, they did this only in a half-hearted manner. The Buddha was such an important figure that he needed to be justified by the involvement, whether kind or hostile, of a deity.[359]
In his tenth incarnation or Kalkî,[360] which has yet to take [149] place, Vishṇu will appear as a Messiah, a conception possibly influenced by Persian ideas. Here, where we are in the realm of pure imagination, we see clearly what the signs of his avatâras are supposed to be. His mission is to sweep away the wicked and to ensure the triumph of the pious, but he comes as a warrior and a horseman, not as a teacher, and if he protects the good he does so by destroying evil. He has thus all the attributes of a Kshatriya hero, and that is as a matter of fact the real character of the two most important avatâras to which we now turn, Râma and Kṛishṇa.
In his tenth incarnation, Kalkî,[360] which is yet to happen [149], Vishṇu will appear as a Messiah, an idea that might have been influenced by Persian concepts. Here, in this realm of pure imagination, we can clearly see what the signs of his avatâras are meant to be. His mission is to eliminate the wicked and ensure the victory of the righteous, but he appears as a warrior and a horseman, not as a teacher. While he protects the good, he does so by destroying evil. He embodies all the traits of a Kshatriya hero, which reflects the true nature of the two most significant avatâras we now examine, Râma and Kṛishṇa.
Râma, often distinguished as Râmacandra, is usually treated as the seventh incarnation and anterior to Kṛishṇa, for he was born in the second age of this rapidly deteriorating world, whereas Kṛishṇa did not appear until the third. But his deification is later than that of Kṛishṇa and probably an imitation of it. He was the son of Daśaratha, King of Ayodhya or Oudh, but was driven into banishment by a palace intrigue. He married Sîtâ, daughter of the King of Mithilâ. She was carried off by Râvana, the demon tyrant of Ceylon, and Râma re-captured her with the aid of Hanuman, King of the Monkeys, and his hosts.[361] Is there any kernel of history in this story? An examination of Hindu legends suggests that they usually preserve names and genealogies correctly but distort facts, and fantastically combine independent narratives. Râma was a semi-divine hero in the tales of ancient Oudh, based on a real personality, and Ceylon was colonized by Indians of Aryan speech.[362] But can we assume that a king of Oudh really led an expedition to the far south, with the aid of ape-like aborigines? [150] It is doubtful, and the narrative of the Râmâyaṇa reads like poetic invention rather than distorted history. And yet, what can have prompted the legend except the occurrence of some such expedition? In Râma's wife Sîtâ, seem to be combined an agricultural goddess and a heroine of ancient romance, embodying the Hindu ideal of the true wife.
Râma, often referred to as Râmacandra, is typically recognized as the seventh incarnation and predates Kṛishṇa, as he was born in the second age of this quickly declining world, while Kṛishṇa appeared in the third. However, his deification came after Kṛishṇa's and was likely modeled after it. He was the son of Daśaratha, the King of Ayodhya (or Oudh), but was exiled due to a palace conspiracy. He married Sîtâ, the daughter of the King of Mithilâ. She was abducted by Râvana, the demon king of Ceylon, and Râma rescued her with the help of Hanuman, the King of the Monkeys, and his followers.[361] Is there any truth behind this story? An analysis of Hindu legends shows that they generally maintain names and family trees accurately but do alter facts and fantastically merge separate narratives. Râma was a semi-divine hero in the stories from ancient Oudh, likely based on a real person, and Ceylon was settled by Indians speaking Aryan languages.[362] But can we truly say that a king from Oudh led an expedition to the distant south with the help of ape-like indigenous people? [150] It seems unlikely, and the narrative of the Râmâyaṇa reads more like poetic creation than warped history. Yet, what could have inspired the legend other than an event of some kind? In Râma's wife Sîtâ, we can see a blend of an agricultural goddess and an ancient romantic heroine, representing the Hindu ideal of the perfect wife.
We have no record of the steps by which Râma and Kṛishṇa were deified, although in different parts of the epic they are presented in very different aspects, sometimes as little more than human, sometimes as nothing less than the Supreme Deity. But it can hardly be doubted that this deification owes something to the example of Buddhism. It may be said that the development of both Buddhism and Hinduism in the centuries immediately preceding and following our era gives parallel manifestations of the same popular tendency to deify great men. This is true, but the non-Buddhist forms of Indian religion while not objecting to deification did not particularly encourage it. But in this period, Buddhism and Jainism were powerful: both of them sanctioned the veneration of great teachers and, as they did not recognize sacrifice or adoration of gods, this veneration became the basis of their ceremonies and easily passed into worship. The Buddhists are not responsible for the introduction of deification, but the fact that it was to some extent the basis of their public ceremonies must have gone far to make the worship of Râma and Kṛishṇa seem natural.
We don't have a record of how Râma and Kṛishṇa became deified, even though the epic presents them in very different ways—sometimes almost human, other times as the Supreme Deity. However, it’s clear that their deification is influenced by Buddhism. The growth of both Buddhism and Hinduism in the centuries right before and after our era shows similar trends in the popular tendency to deify great figures. This is accurate, but non-Buddhist forms of Indian religion, while accepting deification, didn't actively promote it. During this time, Buddhism and Jainism were influential; both accepted the respect for great teachers, and since they didn't acknowledge sacrifice or the worship of gods, this respect became the foundation of their rituals and easily transitioned into worship. While Buddhists didn't create the idea of deification, the fact that it formed a basis for their public ceremonies likely helped make the worship of Râma and Kṛishṇa feel more natural.
It is commonly said that whereas the whole divine nature of Vishṇu was embodied in Kṛishṇa, Râma was only a partial incarnation. Half the god's essence took human form in him, the other half being distributed among his brothers. Kṛishṇa is a greater figure in popular esteem and receives the exclusive devotion of more worshippers. The name of Râma commands the reverence of most Hindus, and has a place in their prayers, but his figure has not been invested with the attributes (often of dubious moral value) which most attract sectarian devotion. His worship combines easily with the adoration of other deities. The great temple of Ramesvaram on Adam's Bridge is dedicated not to Râma himself but to the linga which he erected there, and Tulsi Das, the author of the Hindi Râmâyaṇa, while invoking Râma as the Supreme Lord and redeemer of the world, [151] emphatically states[363] that his worship is not antagonistic to that of Śiva.
It’s often said that while the entire divine nature of Vishnu was embodied in Krishna, Rama was only a partial incarnation. Half of the god's essence took human form in him, with the other half spread among his brothers. Krishna is a more prominent figure in popular opinion and gets the exclusive devotion of more worshippers. The name of Rama commands respect from most Hindus and is included in their prayers, but his figure hasn’t been given the attributes (often of questionable moral value) that most appeal to sectarian devotion. His worship easily combines with the reverence for other deities. The great temple of Ramesvaram on Adam's Bridge is dedicated not to Rama himself but to the linga that he erected there, and Tulsi Das, the author of the Hindi Ramayana, while calling Rama the Supreme Lord and savior of the world, [151] clearly states[363] that his worship does not conflict with that of Shiva.
No inscriptions nor ancient references testify to the worship of Râma before our era and in the subsequent centuries two phases can be distinguished. First, Râma is a great hero, an incarnation of Vishṇu for a particular purpose and analogous to the Vâmana or any other avatâra: deserving as such of all respect but still not the object of any special cult. This is the view taken of Râma in the Mahâbhârata, the Purâṇas, the Raghuvaṃsa, and those parts of the Râmâyaṇa which go beyond it are probably late additions.[364] But secondly Râma becomes for his worshippers the supreme deity. Râmânuja (on the Vedânta sûtras, II. 42) mentions him and Kṛishṇa as two great incarnations in which the supreme being became manifest, and since Kṛishṇa was certainly worshipped at this period as identical with the All-God, it would appear that Râma held the same position. Yet it was not until the fourteenth or fifteenth century that he became for many sects the central and ultimate divine figure.
No inscriptions or ancient references prove that Râma was worshipped before our era, and in the following centuries, two phases can be identified. First, Râma is seen as a great hero, an incarnation of Vishṇu for a specific purpose, similar to Vâmana or any other avatâra: worthy of respect but not the focus of any special worship. This is the perspective on Râma in the Mahâbhārata, the Purāṇas, the Raghuvaṃsa, and the later parts of the Rāmāyaṇa, which are likely additions. [364] But secondly, Râma becomes the supreme deity for his devotees. Rāmānuja (in the Vedānta sûtras, II. 42) refers to him and Kṛishṇa as two great incarnations of the supreme being. Since Kṛishṇa was definitely worshipped during this time as the All-God, it seems that Râma had a similar status. However, it wasn't until the fourteenth or fifteenth century that he became the central and ultimate divine figure for many sects.
In the more liberal sects the worship of Râma passes easily into theism and it is the direct parent of the Kabirpanth and Sikhism, but unlike Kṛishṇaism it does not lead to erotic excess. Râma personifies the ideal of chivalry, Sîtâ of chastity. Less edifying forms of worship may attract more attention, but it must not be supposed that Râma is relegated to the penumbra of philosophic thought. If anything so multiplex as Hinduism can be said to have a watchword, it is the cry, Râm, Râm. The story of his adventures has travelled even further than the hero himself, and is known not only from Kashmir to Cape Comorin but from Bombay to Java and Indo-China where it is a common subject of art. In India the Râmâyaṇa is a favourite recitation among all classes, and dramatized versions of various episodes are performed as religious plays. Though two late Upanishads, the Râmapûrvatâpanîya and Râmauttaratâpaniya extol Râma as the Supreme Being, there is no Râmapurâṇa. The fact is significant, as showing that his worship did not possess precisely those features of priestly sectarianism which mark the Purâṇas and perhaps that it is later than the Purâṇas. [152] But it has inspired a large literature, more truly popular than anything that the Purâṇas contain. Thus we have the Sanskrit Râmâyaṇa itself, the Hindi Râmâyaṇa, the Tamil Râmâyaṇa of Kamban, and works like the Adhyâtma-Râmâyaṇa and Yoga-Vasishtḥa-Râmâyaṇa.[365] Of all these, the Râmâyaṇa of Tulsi Das is specially remarkable and I shall speak of it later at some length.
In the more liberal sects, the worship of Râma easily shifts into theism and directly leads to the Kabirpanth and Sikhism, but unlike Kṛishṇaism, it doesn't result in erotic excess. Râma represents the ideal of chivalry, while Sîtâ embodies chastity. While more sensational forms of worship may draw more attention, it shouldn't be assumed that Râma is pushed to the background of philosophical thought. If Hinduism has a motto, it would definitely be the chant, Râm, Râm. His adventurous story has traveled even farther than the hero himself, known not only from Kashmir to Cape Comorin but from Bombay to Java and Indo-China, where it’s a popular subject in art. In India, the Râmâyaṇa is a favored recitation among all social classes, and dramatized versions of various episodes are performed as religious plays. Although two late Upanishads, the Râmapûrvatâpanîya and Râmauttaratâpaniya, praise Râma as the Supreme Being, there is no Râmapurâṇa. This is significant, showing that his worship didn’t have the typical priestly sectarian characteristics found in the Purâṇas, and perhaps it developed after the Purâṇas. [152] However, it has inspired a vast literature that is more genuinely popular than anything found in the Purâṇas. This includes the Sanskrit Râmâyaṇa itself, the Hindi Râmâyaṇa, the Tamil Râmâyaṇa by Kamban, as well as works like the Adhyâtma-Râmâyaṇa and Yoga-Vasishtḥa-Râmâyaṇa.[365] Among these, the Râmâyaṇa by Tulsi Das is particularly noteworthy, and I will discuss it in more detail later.
4
Kṛishṇa, the other great incarnation of Vishṇu, is one of the most conspicuous figures in the Indian pantheon, but his historical origin remains obscure. The word which means black or dark blue occurs in the Ṛig Veda as the name of an otherwise unknown person. In the Chândogya Upanishad,[366] Kṛishṇa, the son of Devakî, is mentioned as having been instructed by the sage Ghora of the Âṅgirasa clan, and it is probably implied that Kṛishṇa too belonged to that clan.[367] Later sectarian writers never quote this verse, but their silence may be due to the fact that the Upanishad does not refer to Kṛishṇa as if he were a deity, and merely says that he received from Ghora instruction after which he never thirsted again. The purport of it was that the sacrifice may be performed without rites, the various parts being typified by ordinary human actions, such as hunger, eating, laughter, liberality, righteousness, etc. This doctrine has some resemblance to Buddhist language[368] and if this Kṛishṇa is really the ancient hero out of whom the later deity was evolved, there may be an allusion to some simple form of worship which rejected ceremonial and was practised by the tribes to whom Kṛishṇa belonged. I shall recur to the question of these tribes [153] and the Bhâgavata sect below, but in this section I am concerned with the personality of Kṛishṇa.
Kṛishna, another major incarnation of Vishṇu, is one of the most prominent figures in the Indian pantheon, yet his historical beginnings remain unclear. The term that means black or dark blue appears in the Ṛig Veda as the name of an otherwise unknown individual. In the Chândogya Upanishad,[366] Kṛishna, the son of Devakî, is mentioned as having received teachings from the sage Ghora of the Âṅgirasa clan, suggesting that Kṛishna might also belong to that clan.[367] Later sectarian writers do not reference this verse, likely because the Upanishad does not present Kṛishna as a deity, but merely states that he learned from Ghora, after which he never experienced thirst again. The essence of this teaching was that sacrifices could be performed without rituals, with various elements represented by ordinary human actions, such as hunger, eating, laughter, generosity, righteousness, etc. This concept bears some similarity to Buddhist terminology[368] and if this Kṛishna is indeed the ancient figure from whom the later deity developed, it might hint at a simpler form of worship that eschewed ceremonies and was practiced by the tribes associated with Kṛishna. I will return to the topic of these tribes [153] and the Bhâgavata sect later, but in this section, I focus on the character of Kṛishna.
Vâsudeva is a well-known name of Kṛishṇa and a sûtra of Pâṇini,[369] especially if taken in conjunction with the comment of Pataṅjali, appears to assert that it is not a clan name but the name of a god. If so Vâsudeva must have been recognized as a god in the fourth century B.C. He is mentioned in inscriptions which appear to date from about the second century B.C.[370] and in the last book of the Taittirîya Âraṇyaka,[371] which however is a later addition of uncertain date.
Vâsudeva is a well-known name for Kṛishṇa and a term from Pâṇini,[369] especially when considered along with Pataṅjali's commentary, which seems to emphasize that it's not a family name but the name of a deity. If that's the case, Vâsudeva must have been recognized as a god in the fourth century B.C. He is mentioned in inscriptions dating back to around the second century B.C.[370] and in the last book of the Taittirîya Âraṇyaka,[371] though this is a later addition with an uncertain date.
The name Kṛishṇa occurs in Buddhist writings in the form Kaṇha, phonetically equivalent to Kṛishṇa. In the Dîgha Nikâya[372] we hear of the clan of the Kaṇhâyanas (= Kârshṇâyanas) and of one Kaṇha who became a great sage. This person may be the Kṛishṇa of the Ṛig Veda, but there is no proof that he is the same as our Kṛishṇa.
The name Kṛishṇa appears in Buddhist texts as Kaṇha, which sounds the same as Kṛishṇa. In the Dîgha Nikâya[372], we learn about the Kaṇhâyanas clan (also known as Kârshṇâyanas) and a figure named Kaṇha who became a notable sage. This individual might be the Kṛishṇa mentioned in the Ṛig Veda, but there's no evidence that he is the same as our Kṛishṇa.
The Ghata-Jâtaka (No. 454) gives an account of Kṛishṇa's childhood and subsequent exploits which in many points corresponds with the Brahmanic legends of his life and contains several familiar incidents and names, such as Vâsudeva, Baladeva, Kaṃsa. Yet it presents many peculiarities and is either an independent version or a misrepresentation of a popular story that had wandered far from its home. Jain tradition also shows that these tales were popular and were worked up into different forms, for the Jains have an elaborate system of ancient patriarchs which includes Vâsudevas and Baladevas. Kṛishṇa is the ninth of the Black Vâsudevas[373] and is connected with Dvâravatî or Dvârakâ. He will become the twelfth tîrthankara of the next world-period and a similar position will be attained by Devakî, Rohinî, Baladeva and Javakumâra, all members of his family. This is a striking proof of the popularity of the Kṛishṇa legend outside the Brahmanic religion.
The Ghata-Jâtaka (No. 454) tells the story of Kṛishṇa's childhood and later adventures, which in many ways aligns with the Brahmanic legends of his life and includes several familiar characters and events, like Vâsudeva, Baladeva, and Kaṃsa. However, it also has many unique features and seems to be either a separate version or a distorted take on a popular tale that has strayed far from its origins. Jain tradition shows that these stories were well-known and adapted into various forms, as the Jains have a detailed system of ancient patriarchs that includes Vâsudevas and Baladevas. Kṛishṇa is the ninth of the Black Vâsudevas[373] and is associated with Dvâravatî or Dvârakâ. He is set to become the twelfth tîrthankara of the next world period, and a similar role will be held by Devakî, Rohinî, Baladeva, and Javakumâra, all of whom are part of his family. This clearly demonstrates the widespread appeal of the Kṛishṇa legend beyond the Brahmanic faith.
No references to Kṛishṇa except the above have been found in the earlier Upanishads and Sûtras. He is not mentioned in Manu but in one aspect or another he is the principal figure in the Mahâbhârata, yet not exactly the hero. The Râmâyaṇa would have no plot without Râma, but the story of the Mahâbhârata would not lose its unity if Kṛishṇa were omitted. He takes the side of the Pâṇḍavas, and is sometimes a chief sometimes a god but he is not essential to the action of the epic.
No references to Kṛishṇa except for the ones mentioned above have been found in the earlier Upanishads and Sûtras. He isn't mentioned in Manu, but in various ways, he plays a major role in the Mahâbhârata, though he isn't exactly the hero. The Râmâyaṇa wouldn’t have a plot without Râma, but the story of the Mahâbhârata would still hold together even if Kṛishṇa were left out. He supports the Pâṇḍavas and at times is a leader and at other times a god, but he isn’t crucial to the events of the epic.
The legend represents him as the son of Vasudeva, who belonged to the Sâttvata sept[374] of the Yâdava tribe, and of his wife Devakî. It had been predicted to Kaṃsa, king of Mathura (Muttra), that one of her sons would kill him. He therefore slew her first six children: the seventh, Balarâma, who is often counted as an incarnation of Vishṇu, was transferred by divine intervention to the womb of Rohinî. Kṛishṇa, the eighth, escaped by more natural methods. His father was able to give him into the charge of Nanda, a herdsman, and his wife Yâsodâ who brought him up at Gokula and Vrindâvana. Here his youth was passed in sporting with the Gopîs or milk-maids, of whom he is said to have married a thousand. He had time, however, to perform acts of heroism, and after killing Kaṃsa, he transported the inhabitants of Mathura to the city of Dvârakâ which he had built on the coast of Gujarat. He became king of the Yâdavas and continued his mission of clearing the earth of tyrants and monsters. In the struggle between the Pâṇḍavas and the sons of Dhṛitarâshtṛa he championed the cause of the former, and after the conclusion of the war retired to Dvârakâ. Internecine conflict broke out among the Yâdavas and annihilated the race. Kṛishṇa himself withdrew to the forest and was killed by a hunter called Jaras (old age) who shot him supposing him to be a deer.
The legend describes him as the son of Vasudeva, who was from the Sâttvata clan of the Yâdava tribe, and his wife Devakî. It was foretold to Kaṃsa, the king of Mathura (Muttra), that one of her sons would kill him. So, he killed her first six children: the seventh, Balarâma, often considered an incarnation of Vishṇu, was miraculously transferred to the womb of Rohinî. Kṛishṇa, the eighth, escaped through more ordinary means. His father managed to place him in the care of Nanda, a herdsman, and his wife Yâsodâ, who raised him in Gokula and Vrindâvana. During his youth, he played with the Gopîs or milk-maids, with whom he is said to have married a thousand. However, he also had time for heroic deeds, and after killing Kaṃsa, he moved the people of Mathura to the city of Dvârakâ, which he had built on the coast of Gujarat. He became the king of the Yâdavas and continued his mission to rid the world of tyrants and monsters. In the conflict between the Pâṇḍavas and the sons of Dhṛitarâshtṛa, he supported the former, and after the war ended, he retired to Dvârakâ. However, internal strife erupted among the Yâdavas, leading to the destruction of their race. Kṛishṇa himself retreated to the forest and was killed by a hunter named Jaras (old age), who shot him, believing he was a deer.
In the Mahâbhârata and several Purâṇas this bare outline is distended with a plethora of miraculous incident remarkable even in Indian literature, and almost all possible forms of divine and human activity are attributed to this many-sided figure. We may indeed suspect that his personality is dual even in the simplest form of the legend for the scene changes from Mathurâ to Dvârakâ, and his character is not quite the same in the two regions. It is probable that an ancient military hero of the west [155] has been combined with a deity or perhaps more than one deity. The pile of story, sentiment and theology which ages have heaped up round Kṛishṇa's name, represents him in three principal aspects. Firstly, he is a warrior who destroys the powers of evil. Secondly, he is associated with love in all its forms, ranging from amorous sport to the love of God in the most spiritual and mystical sense. Thirdly, he is not only a deity, but he actually becomes God in the European and also in the pantheistic acceptation of the word, and is the centre of a philosophic theology.
In the Mahâbhârata and several Purâṇas, this basic outline is expanded with a wealth of miraculous events that are impressive even in Indian literature, and almost every type of divine and human activity is linked to this multifaceted figure. We might even suspect that his personality is dual, even in the simplest form of the legend, as the setting shifts from Mathurâ to Dvârakâ, and his character isn't quite the same in both areas. It's likely that an ancient military hero from the west [155] has been merged with a god or possibly more than one deity. The accumulation of stories, emotions, and theology that has built up around Kṛishṇa's name portrays him in three main aspects. First, he is a warrior who defeats the forces of evil. Second, he is associated with love in all its forms, from romantic encounters to the love of God in the most spiritual and mystical sense. Third, he is not just a deity; he actually becomes God in both the European and pantheistic interpretations of the term, serving as the center of a philosophical theology.
The first of these aspects is clearly the oldest and it is here, if anywhere, that we may hope to find some fragments of history. But the embellishments of poets and story-tellers have been so many that we can only point to features which may indicate a substratum of fact. In the legend, Kṛishṇa assists the Pâṇḍavas against the Kauravas. Now many think that the Pâṇḍavas represent a second and later immigration of Aryans into India, composed of tribes who had halted in the Himalayas and perhaps acquired some of the customs of the inhabitants, including polyandry, for the five Pâṇḍavas had one wife in common between them. Also, the meaning of the name Kṛishṇa, black, suggests that he was a chief of some non-Aryan tribe. It is, therefore, possible that one source of the Kṛishṇa myth is that a body of invading Aryans, described in the legend as the Pâṇḍavas, who had not exactly the same laws and beliefs as those already established in Hindustan, were aided by a powerful aboriginal chief, just as the Sisodias in Rajputana were aided by the Bhîls. It is possible too that Kṛishṇa's tribe may have come from Kabul or other mountainous districts of the north west, although one of the most definite points in the legend is his connection with the coast town of Dvârakâ. The fortifications of this town and the fruitless efforts of the demon king, Salva, to conquer it by seige are described in the Mahâbhârata,[375] but the narrative is surrounded by an atmosphere of magic and miracle rather than of history.[376]
The first of these aspects is clearly the oldest, and it's here that we may hope to find some fragments of history. However, the embellishments by poets and storytellers have been so extensive that we can only indicate features that might suggest a basis of fact. In the legend, Kṛishṇa helps the Pāṇḍavas against the Kauravas. Many believe that the Pāṇḍavas represent a later wave of Aryans who immigrated to India, made up of tribes that stopped in the Himalayas and possibly adopted some customs from the local inhabitants, including polyandry, since the five Pāṇḍavas shared one wife. Additionally, the meaning of the name Kṛishṇa, which means black, suggests he might have been a leader of some non-Aryan tribe. Therefore, it's possible that one source of the Kṛishṇa myth is that a group of invading Aryans, depicted in the legend as the Pāṇḍavas, had different laws and beliefs from those already established in Hindustan and were supported by a powerful indigenous chief, similar to how the Sisodias in Rajputana were supported by the Bhils. It's also possible that Kṛishṇa's tribe may have originated from Kabul or other mountainous areas in the northwest, though one of the most definite details in the legend is his association with the coastal town of Dvārakā. The town's fortifications and the unsuccessful attempts by the demon king, Salva, to conquer it through siege are recounted in the Mahābhārata,[375] but the story is framed by an atmosphere of magic and miracles rather than history.[376]
Though it would not be reasonable to pick out the less fantastic parts of the Kṛishṇa legend and interpret them as history, yet we may fairly attach significance to the fact that many episodes represent him as in conflict with Brahmanic institutions and hardly maintaining the position of Vishṇu incarnate.[377] Thus he plunders Indra's garden and defeats the gods who attempt to resist him. He fights with Śiva and Skanda. He burns Benares and all its inhabitants. Yet he is called Upendra, which, whatever other explanations sectarian ingenuity may invent, can hardly mean anything but the Lesser Indra, and he fills the humble post of Arjuna's charioteer. His kinsmen seem to have been of little repute, for part of his mission was to destroy his own clan and after presiding over it s annihilation in internecine strife, he was slain himself. In all this we see dimly the figure of some aboriginal hero who, though ultimately canonized, represented a force not in complete harmony with Brahmanic civilization. The figure has also many solar attributes but these need not mean that its origin is to be sought in a sun myth, but rather that, as many early deities were forms of the sun, solar attributes came to be a natural part of divinity and were ascribed to the deified Kṛishṇa just as they were to the deified Buddha.[378]
Though it wouldn't make sense to pick apart the less fantastical elements of the Kṛishṇa legend and treat them as history, we can reasonably note that many stories depict him as being in conflict with Brahmanic institutions and not fully embodying the role of Vishṇu incarnate.[377] He plunders Indra's garden and defeats the gods who try to stop him. He battles Śiva and Skanda. He burns down Benares and its inhabitants. Yet, he is referred to as Upendra, which, despite whatever other interpretations sectarian creativity might come up with, can only really mean the Lesser Indra, and he takes on the humble role of Arjuna's charioteer. His relatives don't seem to hold much esteem, as part of his mission was to wipe out his own clan, and after overseeing its destruction in civil war, he was killed himself. In all of this, we catch a glimpse of an ancient hero who, despite eventually being canonized, represented a force not entirely aligned with Brahmanic civilization. This figure also has many solar traits, but this doesn’t necessarily mean that its roots lie in a sun myth; rather, since many early deities were solar forms, these solar attributes naturally became a part of divinity and were applied to the deified Kṛishṇa just as they were to the deified Buddha.[378]
Some authors hold that the historical Kṛishṇa was a teacher, similar to Zarathustra, and that though of the military class he was chiefly occupied in founding or supporting what was afterwards known as the religion of the Bhâgavatas, a theistic system inculcating the worship of one God, called Bhâgavat, and perhaps identical with the Sun. It is probable that Kṛishṇa [157]the hero was connected with the worship of a special deity, but I see no evidence that he was primarily a teacher.[379] In the earlier legends he is a man of arms: in the later he is not one who devotes his life to teaching but a forceful personage who explains the nature of God and the universe at the most unexpected moments. Now the founders of religions such as MahâVîra and Buddha preserve their character as teachers even in legend and do not accumulate miscellaneous heroic exploits. Similarly modern founders of sects, like Caitanya, though revered as incarnations, still retain their historical attributes. But on the other hand many men of action have been deified not because they taught anything but because they seemed to be more than human forces. Râma is a classical example of such deification and many local deities can be shown to be warriors, bandits and hunters whose powers inspired respect. It is said that there is a disposition in the Bombay Presidency to deify the Maratha leader Śivaji.[380]
Some authors believe that the historical Kṛishṇa was a teacher, similar to Zarathustra, and even though he came from a military background, he focused mainly on establishing or supporting what later became known as the religion of the Bhâgavatas, a theistic system that promotes the worship of one God, called Bhâgavat, who may have been associated with the Sun. It’s likely that Kṛishṇa [157] was connected to the worship of a specific deity, but I don’t see any evidence that he was primarily a teacher.[379] In the earlier legends, he is depicted as a warrior: in the later ones, he is not someone who dedicates his life to teaching but rather a dynamic figure who occasionally shares insights about the nature of God and the universe. In contrast, the founders of religions like MahâVîra and Buddha maintain their identity as teachers even in legends and don’t accumulate unrelated heroic tales. Likewise, modern sect founders, like Caitanya, while honored as incarnations, still hold onto their historical traits. However, many influential figures have been deified not because they taught anything, but because they appeared to be more than ordinary human forces. Râma is a classic example of such deification, and many local deities have been shown to be warriors, bandits, and hunters whose abilities inspired admiration. It is said that there is a tendency in the Bombay Presidency to deify the Maratha leader Śivaji.[380]
In his second aspect, Kṛishṇa is a pastoral deity, sporting among nymphs and cattle. It is possible that this Kṛishṇa is in his origin distinct from the violent and tragic hero of Dvârakâ. The two characters have little in common, except their lawlessness, and the date and locality of the two cycles of legend are different. But the death of Kaṃsa which is one of the oldest incidents in the story (for it is mentioned in the Mahâbhâshya)[381] belongs to both and Kaṃsa is consistently connected with Muttra. The Mahâbhârata is mainly concerned with Kṛishṇa the warrior: the few allusions in it to the freaks of the pastoral Kṛishṇa occur in passages suspected of being late interpolations and, even if they are genuine, show that little attention was paid to his youth. But in later works, the relative importance is reversed and the figure of the amorous herdsman almost banishes the warrior. We can trace the growth of this figure in the sculptures of the sixth century, in the Vishṇu and Bhâgavata Purâṇas and the Gîtâ-govinda (written about 1170). Even later is the worship of Râdhâ, Kṛishṇa's mistress, as a portion [158] of the deity, who is supposed to have divided himself into male and female halves.[382] The birth and adventures of the pastoral Kṛishṇa are located in the land of Braj, the district round Muttra and among the tribe of the Âbhîras, but the warlike Kṛishṇa is connected with the west, although his exploits extend to the Ganges valley.[383] The Âbhîras, now called Ahirs, were nomadic herdsmen who came from the west and their movements between Kathiawar and Muttra may have something to do with the double location of the Kṛishṇa legend.
In his second role, Kṛishṇa is a pastoral deity, playing among nymphs and cattle. It’s likely that this Kṛishṇa is originally different from the violent and tragic hero of Dvârakâ. The two characters share little in common, except for their lawlessness, and the timing and setting of the two legends are different. However, the death of Kaṃsa, which is one of the oldest events in the story (since it's mentioned in the Mahâbhâshya)[381], is linked to both, and Kaṃsa is consistently associated with Muttra. The Mahâbhârata primarily focuses on Kṛishṇa the warrior: the few references to the pastoral Kṛishṇa appear in sections that are believed to be later additions, and even if they are authentic, they indicate that not much attention was given to his youth. In later works, this emphasis shifts, and the figure of the romantic herdsman almost overshadows the warrior. We can see this development in the sculptures from the sixth century, in the Vishṇu and Bhâgavata Purâṇas, and in the Gîtâ-govinda (written around 1170). Even later is the worship of Râdhâ, Kṛishṇa's lover, as part of the deity, who is thought to have divided himself into male and female halves.[382] The birth and adventures of the pastoral Kṛishṇa are set in Braj, the area around Muttra and among the tribe of the Âbhîras, while the warlike Kṛishṇa is associated with the west, although his feats reach into the Ganges valley.[383] The Âbhîras, now known as Ahirs, were nomadic herdsmen from the west, and their movements between Kathiawar and Muttra may explain the dual locations of the Kṛishṇa legend.
Both archæology and historical notices tell us something of the history of Muttra. It was a great Buddhist and Jain centre, as the statues and vihâras found there attest. Ptolemy calls it the city of the gods. Fa-Hsien (400 A.D.) describes it as Buddhist, but that faith was declining at the time of Hsüan Chuang's visit (c. 630 A.D.). The sculptural remains also indicate the presence of Græco-Bactrian influence. We need not therefore feel surprise if we find in the religious thought of Muttra elements traceable to Greece, Persia or Central Asia. Some claim that Christianity should be reckoned among these elements and I shall discuss the question elsewhere. Here I will only say that such ideas as were common to Christianity and to the religions of Greece and western Asia probably did penetrate to India by the northern route, but of specifically Christian ideas I see no proof. It is true that the pastoral Kṛishṇa is unlike all earlier Indian deities, but then no close parallel to him can be adduced from elsewhere, and, take him as a whole, he is a decidedly un-Christian figure. The resemblance to Christianity consists in the worship of a divine child, together with his mother. But this feature is absent in the New Testament and seems to have been borrowed from paganism by Christianity.
Both archaeology and historical records provide insights into the history of Muttra. It was a significant center for Buddhism and Jainism, as evidenced by the statues and monasteries found there. Ptolemy referred to it as the city of the gods. Fa-Hsien (400 A.D.) describes it as a Buddhist city, but that faith was fading by the time Hsüan Chuang visited (around 630 A.D.). The sculptural remnants also show signs of Greco-Bactrian influence. Therefore, it’s not surprising to find elements in the religious thought of Muttra that can be traced back to Greece, Persia, or Central Asia. Some argue that Christianity should also be included among these influences, which I will address elsewhere. For now, I'll only mention that ideas common to Christianity and the religions of Greece and Western Asia likely reached India through the northern route; however, I see no evidence of distinctly Christian ideas. While it’s true that the pastoral Krishna differs from earlier Indian deities, there's no apparent close parallel to him from elsewhere, and overall, he is a distinctly non-Christian figure. The similarity to Christianity lies in the worship of a divine child alongside his mother, but this aspect is absent in the New Testament and seems to have been borrowed from paganism by Christianity.
The legends of Muttra show even clearer traces than those already quoted of hostility between Kṛishṇa and Brahmanism. He forbids the worship of Indra,[384] and when Indra in anger sends down a deluge of rain, he protects the country by holding [159] up over it the hill of Goburdhan, which is still one of the great centres of pilgrimage.[385] The language which the Vishṇu Purâṇa attributes to him is extremely remarkable. He interrupts a sacrifice which his fosterfather is offering to Indra and says, "We have neither fields nor houses: we wander about happily wherever we list, travelling in our waggons. What have we to do with Indra? Cattle and mountains are (our) gods. Brahmans offer worship with prayer: cultivators of the earth adore their landmarks but we who tend our herds in the forests and mountains should worship them and our kine."
The legends of Muttra show even clearer signs than those mentioned before of the conflict between Kṛishṇa and Brahmanism. He bans the worship of Indra,[384] and when Indra, in anger, unleashes a flood of rain, he saves the land by holding up the hill of Goburdhan over it, which remains one of the main pilgrimage sites.[385] The way the Vishṇu Purâṇa has him speak is particularly striking. He interrupts a sacrifice his foster father is performing for Indra and says, "We have no fields or houses: we roam around joyfully wherever we want, traveling in our wagons. What do we have to do with Indra? Cattle and mountains are our gods. Brahmans offer worship through prayers; farmers honor their fields, but we who look after our herds in the forests and mountains should worship them and our cows."
This passage suggests that Kṛishṇa represents a tribe of highland nomads who worshipped mountains and cattle and came to terms with the Brahmanic ritual only after a struggle. The worship of mountain spirits is common in Central Asia, but I do not know of any evidence for cattle-worship in those regions. Clemens of Alexandria,[386] writing at the end of the second century A.D., tells us that the Indians worshipped Herakles and Pan. The pastoral Kṛishṇa has considerable resemblance to Pan or a Faun, but no representations of such beings are recorded from Græco-Indian sculptures. Several Bacchic groups have however been discovered in Gandhara and also at Muttra[387] and Megasthenes recognized Dionysus in some Indian deity. Though the Bacchic revels and mysteries do not explain the pastoral element in the Kṛishṇa legend, they offer a parallel to some of its other features, such as the dancing and the crowd of women, and I am inclined to think that such Greek ideas may have germinated and proved fruitful in Muttra. The Greek king Menander is said to have occupied the city (c. 155 B.C.), and the sculptures found there indicate that Greek artistic forms were used to express Indian ideas. There may have been a similar fusion in religion.
This passage suggests that Kṛishṇa represents a group of highland nomads who worshipped mountains and cattle and eventually accepted Brahmanic rituals after some conflict. Worship of mountain spirits is common in Central Asia, but I’m not aware of any evidence of cattle worship in those areas. Clemens of Alexandria,[386] writing at the end of the second century A.D., tells us that the Indians worshipped Herakles and Pan. The pastoral Kṛishṇa bears a strong resemblance to Pan or a Faun, but there are no records of such figures in Græco-Indian sculptures. However, several Bacchic groups have been discovered in Gandhara and also at Muttra[387], and Megasthenes recognized Dionysus in some Indian deity. While the Bacchic revelries and mysteries don't explain the pastoral aspect of the Kṛishṇa legend, they provide parallels to some of its other features, like the dancing and the crowd of women. I suspect that such Greek ideas may have taken root and flourished in Muttra. The Greek king Menander is said to have occupied the city around 155 B.C., and the sculptures found there suggest that Greek artistic styles were utilized to express Indian concepts. There might have been a similar blending in religion.
In any case, Buddhism was predominant in Muttra for several centuries. It no doubt forbade the animal sacrifices [160] of the Brahmans and favoured milder rites. It may even offer some explanation for the frivolous character of much in the Kṛishṇa legend.[388] Most Brahmanic deities, extraordinary as their conduct often is, are serious and imposing. But Buddhism claimed for itself the serious side of religion and while it tolerated local godlings treated them as fairies or elves. It was perhaps while Kṛishṇa was a humble rustic deity of this sort, with no claim to represent the Almighty, that there first gathered round him the cycle of light love-stories which has clung to him ever since. In the hands of the Brahmans his worship has undergone the strangest variations which touch the highest and lowest planes of Hinduism, but the Muttra legend still retains its special note of pastoral romance, and exhibits Kṛishṇa in two principal characters, as the divine child and as the divine lover. The mysteries of birth and of sexual union are congenial topics to Hindu theology, but in the cult of Muttra we are not concerned with reproduction as a world force, but simply with childhood and love as emotional manifestations of the deity. The same ideas occur in Christianity, and even in the Gospels Christ is compared to a bridegroom, but the Kṛishṇa legend is far more gross and naïve.
In any case, Buddhism was dominant in Muttra for several centuries. It likely banned the animal sacrifices of the Brahmans and promoted gentler rituals. It might even explain the playful nature of much of the Kṛishṇa legend. Most Brahmanic deities, as extraordinary as their actions often are, tend to be serious and imposing. But Buddhism adopted a more serious approach to religion, and while it accepted local deities, it treated them like fairies or elves. It was probably during Kṛishṇa's time as a humble rural deity, with no claim to represent the Almighty, that the light-hearted love stories began to form around him, stories that have stuck ever since. The worship of Kṛishṇa by the Brahmans has experienced the strangest variations, touching on both the highest and lowest aspects of Hinduism, but the Muttra legend still maintains its unique sense of pastoral romance, showcasing Kṛishṇa primarily as the divine child and as the divine lover. The mysteries of birth and sexual union are familiar topics in Hindu theology, but in the cult of Muttra, we focus not on reproduction as a cosmic force, but rather on childhood and love as emotional expressions of the deity. Similar ideas also appear in Christianity, and even in the Gospels, Christ is compared to a bridegroom, but the Kṛishṇa legend is much more blunt and naïve.
The infant Kṛishṇa is commonly adored in the form known as Makhan Chor or the Butter Thief.[389] This represents him as a crawling child holding out one hand full of curds or butter which he has stolen. We speak of idolizing a child, and when Hindu women worship this image they are unconsciously generalizing the process and worshipping childhood, its wayward pranks as well as its loveable simplicity, and though it is hard for a man to think of the freaks of the butter thief as a manifestation of divinity, yet clearly there is an analogy between these childish escapades and the caprices of mature deities, which are respectfully described as mysteries. If one admits the worship of the Bambino, it is not unreasonable to include in it admiration of his rogueries, and the tender playfulness which is permitted to enter into this cult appeals profoundly to [161] Indian women. Images of the Makhan Chor are sold by thousands in the streets of Muttra.
The baby Kṛishṇa is often loved as Makhan Chor, or the Butter Thief.[389] This depiction shows him as a crawling child with one hand reaching out for curds or butter that he has stolen. When we talk about idolizing a child, Hindu women who worship this image are unknowingly celebrating the concept of childhood—its mischievous antics and its charming simplicity. Even though it may be difficult for a man to see the tricks of the butter thief as a sign of divinity, there's clearly a connection between these childish mischiefs and the whims of grown-up deities, which are respectfully referred to as mysteries. If we accept the worship of the Bambino, it makes sense to also appreciate his mischievous side, and the gentle playfulness allowed in this worship appeals deeply to [161] Indian women. Images of the Makhan Chor are sold by the thousands in the streets of Muttra.
Even more popular is the image known as Kanhaya, which represents the god as a young man playing the flute as he stands in a careless attitude, which has something of Hellenic grace. Kṛishṇa in this form is the beloved of the Gopîs, or milk-maids, of the land of Braj, and the spouse of Râdhâ, though she had no monopoly of him. The stories of his frolics with these damsels and the rites instituted in memory thereof have brought his worship into merited discredit. Krishnaism offers the most extensive manifestation to be found in the world of what W. James calls the theopathic condition as illustrated by nuns like Marguérite Marie Alacoque, Saint Gertrude and the more distinguished Saint Theresa. "To be loved by God and loved by him to distraction (jusqu'à la folie), Margaret melted away with love at the thought of such a thing.... She said to God, 'Hold back, my God, these torrents which overwhelm me or else enlarge my capacity for their reception'."[390] These are not the words of the Gîtâ-govinda or the Prem Sagar, as might be supposed, but of a Catholic Bishop describing the transports of Sister Marguérite Marie, and they illustrate the temper of Kṛishṇa's worshippers. But the verses of the Marathi poet, Tukaram, who lived about 1600 A.D. and sang the praises of Kṛishṇa, rise above this sentimentality though he uses the language of love. In a letter to Sivaji, who desired to see him, he wrote, "As a chaste wife longs only to see her lord, such am I to Viṭṭhala.[391] All the world is to me Viṭṭhala and nothing else: thee also I behold in him." He also wrote elsewhere, "he that taketh the unprotected to his heart and doeth to a servant the same kindness as to his own children, is assuredly the image of God." More recently Râmakṛishṇa, whose sayings breathe a wide intelligence as well as a wide charity, has given this religion of love an expression which, if somewhat too sexual to be perfectly in accordance with western taste, is nearly related to emotional Christianity. "A true lover sees his god as his nearest and dearest relative" he writes, "just as the shepherd women [162] of Vṛindâvana saw in Kṛishṇa not the Lord of the Universe but their own beloved.... The knowledge of God may be likened to a man, while the love of God is like a woman. Knowledge has entry only up to the outer rooms of God, and no one can enter into the inner mysteries of God save a lover.... Knowledge and love of God are ultimately one and the same. There is no difference between pure knowledge and pure love."[392]
Even more popular is the image known as Kanhaya, which shows the god as a young man playing the flute while standing in a relaxed pose that has a touch of Hellenic elegance. Kṛishṇa in this form is the beloved of the Gopîs, or milkmaids, of the Braj region and the partner of Râdhâ, although she didn’t have exclusive claim on him. The tales of his playful interactions with these women and the rituals established in their remembrance have led to a deserved decline in his worship. Krishnaism provides the most extensive representation of what W. James refers to as the theopathic condition, as seen in nuns like Marguérite Marie Alacoque, Saint Gertrude, and the more renowned Saint Theresa. "To be loved by God and loved by him to distraction (jusqu'à la folie), Margaret melted away with love at the thought of such a thing.... She said to God, 'Hold back, my God, these torrents which overwhelm me or else enlarge my capacity for their reception'."[390] These words do not come from the Gîtâ-govinda or the Prem Sagar, as one might think, but from a Catholic Bishop describing the ecstasy of Sister Marguérite Marie, and they reflect the spirit of Kṛishṇa's devotees. However, the verses of the Marathi poet Tukaram, who lived around 1600 A.D. and praised Kṛishṇa, rise above this sentimentality even while using the language of love. In a letter to Sivaji, who wanted to meet him, he wrote, "Just as a chaste wife longs only to see her lord, so do I yearn for Viṭṭhala.[391] For me, the whole world is Viṭṭhala and nothing else: I see you too in him." He also wrote elsewhere, "He who embraces the unprotected and shows a servant the same kindness as to his own children is surely the image of God." More recently, Râmakṛishṇa, whose sayings reflect both profound understanding and generous compassion, has provided this faith of love with an expression that, while perhaps a bit too sensual for Western sensibilities, is closely tied to emotional Christianity. "A true lover sees his god as his closest relative," he writes, "just as the shepherd women [162] of Vṛindâvana saw in Kṛishṇa not the Lord of the Universe but their own beloved.... The knowledge of God can be likened to a man, while the love of God is like a woman. Knowledge only enters the outer rooms of God, and no one can explore the inner mysteries of God except a lover.... Ultimately, knowledge and love of God are one and the same. There is no difference between pure knowledge and pure love."[392]
These extracts show how Kṛishṇa as the object of the soul's desire assumes the place of the Supreme Being or God. But this surprising transformation[393] is not specially connected with the pastoral and erotic Kṛishṇa: the best known and most thorough-going exposition of his divinity is found in the Bhagavad-gîtâ, which represents him as being in his human aspect, a warrior and the charioteer of Arjuna. Probably some seventy-five millions to-day worship Kṛishṇa, especially under the name of Hari, as God in the pantheistic sense and naturally the more his identity with the supreme spirit is emphasized, the dimmer grow the legendary features which mark the hero of Muttra and Dvârakâ, and the human element in him is reduced to this very important point that the tie uniting him to his worshippers is one of sentiment and affection.
These excerpts demonstrate how Kṛishṇa, as the focus of the soul’s desire, takes on the role of the Supreme Being or God. This remarkable transformation[393] isn’t specifically tied to the pastoral and erotic aspects of Kṛishṇa; rather, the most well-known and comprehensive explanation of his divinity can be found in the Bhagavad-gîtâ, where he is depicted in his human form as a warrior and the charioteer of Arjuna. Today, around seventy-five million people worship Kṛishṇa, especially under the name Hari, viewing him as God in a pantheistic sense. As the connection between him and the supreme spirit is emphasized, the legendary traits associated with the hero of Muttra and Dvârakâ fade, leaving the human aspect of Kṛishṇa primarily defined by the emotional and affectionate bond he shares with his devotees.
In the following chapters I shall treat of this worship when describing the various sects which practise it. A question of some importance for the history of Kṛishṇa's deification is the meaning of the name Vâsudeva. One explanation makes it a patronymic, son of Vasudeva, and supposes that when this prince Vâsudeva was deified his name, like Râma, was transferred to the deity. The other regards Vâsudeva as a name for the deity used by the Sâttvata clan and supposes that when Kṛishṇa was deified this already well-known divine name was bestowed on him. There is much to be said for this latter theory. As we have seen the Jains give the title Vâsudeva to a series of supermen, and a remarkable legend states[394] that a king called [163] Paundraka who pretended to be a deity used the title Vâsudeva and ordered Kṛishṇa to cease using it, for which impertinence he was slain. This clearly implies that the title was something which could be detached from Kṛishṇa and not a mere patronymic. Indian writings countenance both etymologies of the word. As the name of the deity they derive it from vas to dwell, he in whom all things abide and who abides in all.[395]
In the following chapters, I will discuss this worship while describing the various sects that practice it. An important question for understanding the history of Kṛishṇa's deification is the meaning of the name Vâsudeva. One explanation suggests it is a patronymic, meaning son of Vasudeva, and assumes that when this prince Vâsudeva was deified, his name, like Râma, was adopted by the deity. The other interpretation considers Vâsudeva a name for the deity used by the Sâttvata clan and proposes that when Kṛishṇa was deified, this already well-known divine name was given to him. There is a strong case for this latter theory. As we have seen, the Jains refer to a series of supermen by the title Vâsudeva, and a remarkable legend states[394] that a king named [163] Paundraka, who claimed to be a deity, used the title Vâsudeva and commanded Kṛishṇa to stop using it, for which act of arrogance he was killed. This clearly suggests that the title could be separated from Kṛishṇa and is not just a patronymic. Indian writings support both explanations of the word. As the name of the deity, they trace it back to vas, meaning to dwell, referring to the one in whom all things exist and who exists in all.[395]
5
Śiva and Vishṇu are not in their nature different from other Indian ideas, high or low. They are the offspring of philosophic and poetic minds playing with a luxuriant popular mythology. But even in the epics they have already become fixed points in a flux of changing fancies and serve as receptacles in which the most diverse notions are collected and stored. Nearly all philosophy and superstition finds its place in Hinduism by being connected with one or both of them. The two worships are not characteristic of different periods: they coexist when they first become known to us as they do at the present day and in essential doctrines they are much alike. We have no name for this curious double theism in which each party describes its own deity as the supreme god or All-god, yet without denying the god of the other. Something similar might be produced in Christianity if different Churches were avowedly to worship different persons of the Trinity.
Śiva and Vishṇu are not inherently different from other Indian concepts, whether high or low. They are products of philosophical and poetic minds engaging with a rich popular mythology. Even in the epics, they have already become stable points within a flow of changing ideas and serve as containers where various notions are gathered and preserved. Almost all philosophy and superstition finds its place in Hinduism by being linked with one or both of them. The two forms of worship are not representative of different time periods; they coexist from the moment they first become known to us, just as they do today, and in essential beliefs, they are quite similar. We lack a term for this intriguing dualism, where each group refers to its own deity as the supreme god or All-god, without denying the deity of the other. A similar situation might arise in Christianity if different Churches openly worshipped different persons of the Trinity.
Śiva and Vishṇu are sometimes contrasted and occasionally their worshippers quarrel.[396] But the general inclination is rather [164] to make the two figures approximate by bestowing the same attributes on both. A deity must be able to satisfy emotional devotion: hence the Tamil Śivaite says of Śiva the destroyer, "one should worship in supreme love him who does kindness to the soul." But then the feature in the world which most impresses the Hindu is the constant change and destruction, and this must find a place in the All-god. Hence the sportive kindly Kṛishṇa comes to be declared the destroyer of the worlds.[397] It is as if in some vast Dravidian temple one wandered through two corridors differently ornamented and assigned to the priests of different rites but both leading to the same image. Hence it is not surprising to find that there is actually a deity—if indeed the term is suitable, but European vocabularies hardly provide one which meets the case—called Harihara (or Śankara-Nârâyaṇa), that is Śiva and Vishṇu combined. The Harivaṃsa contains a hymn addressed to him: fairly ancient sculptures attest the prevalence of his worship in the Deccan, especially at Badâmi, he was once the chief deity of Camboja and he is still popular in south India. Here besides being worshipped under his own name he has undergone a singular transformation and has probably been amalgamated with some aboriginal deity. Under the designation of Ayenâr (said to be a corruption of Harihara) he is extensively worshipped as a village god and reputed to be the son of Śiva and Vishṇu, the latter having kindly assumed the form of a woman to effect his birth.
Śiva and Vishṇu are sometimes seen as opposites, and sometimes their followers argue. But generally, people tend to draw similarities between the two by giving them the same attributes. A god needs to fulfill emotional devotion: so, the Tamil Śivaite says of Śiva the destroyer, "one should worship with supreme love the one who does kindness to the soul." However, what leaves the biggest impression on Hindus is the constant change and destruction in the world, which must be incorporated into the All-god. As a result, the playful and kind Kṛishṇa is also considered the destroyer of worlds. It’s like wandering through a vast Dravidian temple where two corridors, each decorated differently and meant for different rituals, both lead to the same image. So, it’s not surprising to find that there’s actually a deity—if that term applies, though European languages don’t really offer an equivalent—called Harihara (or Śankara-Nârâyaṇa), representing the merging of Śiva and Vishṇu. The Harivaṃsa includes a hymn dedicated to him, and ancient sculptures indicate that his worship was common in the Deccan, especially in Badâmi; he was once the main god of Camboja and remains popular in south India. Here, besides being worshipped under his own name, he has undergone a unique transformation and has likely been combined with some local deity. Known as Ayenâr (believed to be a variation of Harihara), he is widely worshipped as a village god and is said to be the son of Śiva and Vishṇu, with the latter graciously taking the form of a woman for his birth.
Another form of this inclination to combine and unite the various manifestations of the Divine is the tendency to worship groups of gods, a practice as old as the Vedas. Thus many temples are dedicated to a group of five, namely, Śiva, Vishṇu, Durgâ, Gaṇeśa and the Sun and it is stated that every Hindu worships these five deities in his daily prayers.[398] The Trimûrti, or figure of Brahmâ, Śiva and Vishṇu, illustrates the worship of groups. Its importance has sometimes been over-estimated by Europeans from an idea that it corresponded to the Christian Trinity, but in reality this triad is late and has little significance. No stress is laid on the idea of three in one and the number of persons can be increased. The Brahma-vaivarta Purâṇa for instance adds Kṛishṇa to Brahmâ, Śiva and Vishṇu. The union [165] of three personalities is merely a way of summing up the chief attributes of the All-God. Thus the Vishṇu Purâṇa[399] extols Vishṇu as being "Hiraṇyagarbha, Hari and Śaṅkara (i.e. Brahmâ, Vishṇu and Śiva), the creator, preserver and destroyer," but in another passage as him who is "Brahma, Îśvara and spirit (Puṁs), who with the three Guṇas (qualities of matter) is the cause of creation, preservation and destruction...." The origin of the triad, so far as it has any doctrinal or philosophical meaning, is probably to be sought in the personification of the three Guṇas.[400]
Another form of this tendency to combine and unite different aspects of the Divine is the inclination to worship groups of gods, a practice as old as the Vedas. Many temples are dedicated to a group of five: Śiva, Vishṇu, Durgâ, Gaṇeśa, and the Sun, and it is said that every Hindu includes these five deities in their daily prayers.[398] The Trimûrti, or representation of Brahmâ, Śiva, and Vishṇu, illustrates the worship of groups. Its importance has sometimes been over-estimated by Europeans thinking it corresponds to the Christian Trinity, but in reality, this triad is later and has little significance. There is no emphasis on the idea of three in one, and the number of persons can be expanded. For example, the Brahma-vaivarta Purâṇa adds Kṛishṇa to Brahmâ, Śiva, and Vishṇu. The union [165] of three personalities is simply a way of summarizing the main attributes of the All-God. Thus, the Vishṇu Purâṇa[399] praises Vishṇu as "Hiraṇyagarbha, Hari, and Śaṅkara (i.e., Brahmâ, Vishṇu, and Śiva), the creator, preserver, and destroyer," but in another section describes him as "Brahma, Îśvara, and spirit (Puṁs), who with the three Guṇas (qualities of matter) is the cause of creation, preservation, and destruction...." The origin of the triad, insofar as it holds any doctrinal or philosophical meaning, is likely found in the personification of the three Guṇas.[400]
FOOTNOTES:
[336] The Dionysus of Megasthenes is a deity who comes from the west with an army that suffers from the heat of the plains. If we could be certain that he meant Śiva by Dionysus this would be valuable evidence. But he clearly misunderstood many things in Indian religion. Greek legends connected Dionysus with India and the East.
[336] The Dionysus of Megasthenes is a god who comes from the west with an army that struggles in the heat of the plains. If we could be sure he was referring to Śiva as Dionysus, this would be significant evidence. However, he clearly misinterpreted many aspects of Indian religion. Greek legends linked Dionysus with India and the East.
[337] Macdonell seems to me correct in saying (J.R.A.S. 1915, p. 125) that one reason why Indian deities have many arms is that they may be able to carry the various symbols by which they are characterized. Another reason is that worship is usually accompanied by dhyâna, that is forming a mental image of the deity as described in a particular text. E.g. the worshipper repeats a mantra which describes a deity in language which was originally metaphorical as having many heads and arms and at the same time he ought to make a mental image of such a figure.
[337] Macdonell seems right in saying (J.R.A.S. 1915, p. 125) that one reason Indian deities have many arms is so they can hold the different symbols that represent them. Another reason is that worship typically involves dhyâna, which means creating a mental image of the deity as described in a specific text. E.g. the worshipper recites a mantra that describes a deity in language that was originally metaphorical, depicting them as having many heads and arms, while at the same time, they should visualize such a figure in their mind.
[339] I cannot discover that any alleged avatâra of Śiva has now or has had formerly any importance, but the Vâyu, Liṅga and Kûrma Purâna give lists of such incarnations, as does also the Catechism of the Shaiva religion translated by Foulkes. But Indian sects have a strong tendency to ascribe all possible achievements and attributes to their gods. The mere fact that Vishṇu becomes incarnate incites the ardent Śivaite to say that his god can do the same. A curious instance of this rivalry is found in the story that Śiva manifested himself as Śarabha-mûrti in order to curb the ferocity of Vishṇu when incarnate in the Man Lion (see Gopinâtha Rao, Hindu Icon. p. 45). Śiva often appears in a special form, not necessarily human, for a special purpose (e.g. Vîrabhadra) and some tantric Buddhas seem to be imitations of these apparitions. There is a strong element of Śivaism borrowed from Bengal in the mythology of Tibet and Mongolia, where such personages as Hevajra, Saṃvara, and Mahâkâla have a considerable importance under the strange title of Buddhas.
[339] I can't find that any supposed incarnations of Shiva are significant now or have been in the past. However, the Vayu, Linga, and Kurma Puranas do provide lists of such incarnations, as does the Catechism of the Shaiva religion translated by Foulkes. Indian sects have a strong tendency to attribute all possible achievements and qualities to their gods. The simple fact that Vishnu takes on an incarnation prompts devoted Shaivites to claim that their god can do the same. An interesting example of this rivalry is found in the story that Shiva manifested as Sharabha-murti to tame Vishnu's ferocity when he took the form of the Man-Lion (see Gopinatha Rao, Hindu Icon. p. 45). Shiva often appears in unique forms, not necessarily human, for specific purposes (e.g. Virabhadra), and some tantric Buddhas seem to mimic these appearances. There's a significant element of Shaivism, borrowed from Bengal, in the mythology of Tibet and Mongolia, where figures like Hevajra, Samvara, and Mahakala hold considerable importance under the unusual title of Buddhas.
[341] Book XVI.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Book 16.
[342] In the play Mricchakaṭikâ or The Clay Cart (probably of the sixth century A.D.) a burglar invokes Kârtikeya, the son of Śiva, who is said to have taught different styles of house-breaking.
[342] In the play Mricchakaṭikâ or The Clay Cart (likely from the sixth century A.D.), a thief calls upon Kârtikeya, the son of Śiva, who is known to have taught various techniques for breaking into houses.
[344] Atharva, V. xi. 2. 24.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Atharva Veda 11.2.24.
[345] It is not certain if the Śisṇadevâh whom Indra is asked to destroy in Ṛig. V. VII. 21. 5 and X. 99. 3 are priapic demons or worshippers of the phallus.
[345] It's unclear whether the Śisṇadevâh that Indra is asked to defeat in Ṛig. V. VII. 21. 5 and X. 99. 3 are sexual demons or followers of the phallus.
[347] The inscriptions of Camboja and Champa seem to be the best proof of the antiquity of Linga worship. A Cambojan inscription of about 550 A.D. records the dedication of a linga and the worship must have taken some time to reach Camboja from India. Some lingas discovered in India are said to be anterior to the Christian era.
[347] The inscriptions from Cambodia and Champa appear to be the strongest evidence of the ancient practice of Linga worship. A Cambodian inscription dating back to around 550 A.D. documents the dedication of a linga, and it likely took some time for this worship to spread from India to Cambodia. Some lingas found in India are believed to predate the Christian era.
[349] As is also its appearance, as a rule. But there are exceptions to this. Some Hindus deny that the Linga is a phallic emblem. It is hardly possible to maintain this thesis in view of such passages as Mahâbh. XIII. 14 and the innumerable figures in which there are both a linga and a Yoni. But it is true that in its later forms the worship is purged of all grossness and that in its earlier forms the symbol adored was often a stûpa-like column or a pillar with figures on it.
[349] Typically, its appearance reflects that. However, there are exceptions. Some Hindus argue that the Linga is not a phallic symbol. It's difficult to uphold this claim in light of passages like Mahâbh. XIII. 14 and the countless representations that include both a linga and a Yoni. Nevertheless, it's true that in its later stages, the worship is stripped of any crudeness, while in its earlier stages, the symbol that was venerated was often a stûpa-like column or a pillar adorned with figures.
[350] Such scenes as the relief from Amarâvati figured in Grünwedel, Buddhist art in India, p. 29, fig. 8, might easily be supposed to represent the worship of the linga, and some of Aśoka's pillars have been worshipped as lingas in later times.
[350] Scenes like the relief from Amarâvati shown in Grünwedel's Buddhist Art in India, p. 29, fig. 8, could easily be thought to depict the worship of the linga, and some of Aśoka's pillars have been revered as lingas in later periods.
[353] They are however of some importance in Vishnuite theology. For instance according to the school of Râmânuja it is the Śakti (Śrî) who reveals the true doctrine to mankind. Vishṇu is often said to have three consorts, Śrî, Bhû and Lîlâ.
[353] They are, however, somewhat important in Vishnuite theology. For example, according to the Râmânuja school, it is the Śakti (Śrî) who reveals the true teachings to humanity. Vishṇu is often said to have three partners: Śrî, Bhû, and Lîlâ.
[354] E.g. Śat. Brâh. I. 2. 5. See also the strange legend Ib. XI. 1. 1 where Vishṇu is described as the best of the gods but is eaten by Indra. He is frequently (e.g. in the Śata Brâh) stated to be identical with the sacrifice, and this was probably one of the reasons for his becoming prominent.
[354] For example, Śat. Brâh. I. 2. 5. Also, see the strange story Ib. XI. 1. 1 where Vishṇu is called the greatest of the gods but is consumed by Indra. He is often (for example, in the Śata Brâh) said to be the same as the sacrifice, which was likely one of the reasons he became prominent.
[355] See many modern examples in Crooke, Popular Religion and Folk Lore of Northern India, chap. IV. and Census of India, 1901, vol. VI. Bengal, pp. 196-8, where are described various deified heroes who are adored in Bengal, such as Goveiyâ (a bandit), Sailesh, Karikh, Lárik, Amar Singh, and Gobind Raut (a slayer of tigers). Compare too the worship of Gopi Nath and Zinda Kaliana in the Panjâb as described in Census of India, 1901, vol. XVII. pp. 118-9.
[355] See many modern examples in Crooke, Popular Religion and Folk Lore of Northern India, chap. IV. and Census of India, 1901, vol. VI. Bengal, pp. 196-8, which describe various deified heroes who are worshipped in Bengal, such as Goveiyâ (a bandit), Sailesh, Karikh, Lárik, Amar Singh, and Gobind Raut (a tiger slayer). Also, compare the worship of Gopi Nath and Zinda Kaliana in the Panjâb as described in Census of India, 1901, vol. XVII. pp. 118-9.
[356] The Bhâgavata Purâna (I. iii.) and the Bhaktamâlâ (see J.R.A.S. 1909, pp. 621 ff.) give longer lists of 22 and 26, and the Pâncarâtra gives 39. See Ahirbudhnya Saṃhitâ, V. 50-55.
[356] The Bhâgavata Purâna (I. iii.) and the Bhaktamâlâ (see J.R.A.S. 1909, pp. 621 ff.) provide longer lists of 22 and 26, and the Pâncarâtra mentions 39. Refer to Ahirbudhnya Saṃhitâ, V. 50-55.
[357] Book I, cantos 74-76.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Book I, stanzas 74-76.
[359] For Brahmanic ideas about Buddha see Vishṇu Purâṇa, III. 18. The Bhâgavata Purâṇa, I. 3. 24 seems to make the Buddha incarnation future. It also counts Kapila and Ṛishabha, apparently identical with the founder of the Sânkhya and the first Jain saint, as incarnations. The Padma Purâṇa seems to ascribe not only Buddhism but the Mâyâ doctrine of Śankara to delusions deliberately inspired by gods. I have not been able to find the passage in the printed edition of the Purâṇa but it is quoted in Sanskrit by Aufrecht, Cat. Cod. Bib. Bodl. p. 14, and Muir, Original Sanskrit Texts, p. 198.
[359] For Brahmanic views on Buddha, see Vishṇu Purâṇa, III. 18. The Bhâgavata Purâṇa, I. 3. 24 seems to predict the Buddha incarnation as something yet to come. It also includes Kapila and Ṛishabha, likely equivalent to the founder of the Sânkhya philosophy and the first Jain saint, as incarnations. The Padma Purâṇa appears to attribute not only Buddhism but also the Mâyâ doctrine of Śankara to deceptions intentionally encouraged by the gods. I haven't found the specific passage in the printed edition of the Purâṇa, but it is cited in Sanskrit by Aufrecht, Cat. Cod. Bib. Bodl. p. 14, and Muir, Original Sanskrit Texts, p. 198.
[360] See Norman in Trans. Third Int. Congress of Religions, II. p. 85. In the Ind. Ant. 1918, p. 145 Jayaswal tries to prove that Kalkî is a historical personage and identical with King Yaśodharman of Central India (about A.D. 500) and that the idea of his being a future saviour is late. This theory offers difficulties, for firstly there is no proof that the passages of the Mahabharata which mention Kalkî (III. 190, 13101; III. 191, 13111: XII. 340, 12968) are additions later than Yaśodharman and secondly if Kalkî was first a historical figure and then projected into the future we should expect to hear that he will come again, but such language is not quoted. On the other hand it seems quite likely (1) that there was an old tradition about a future saviour called Kalkî, (2) that Yaśodharman after defeating the Huns assumed the rôle, (3) and that when it was found that the golden age had not recommenced he was forgotten (as many pseudo-Messiahs have been) and Kalkî again became a hope for the future. Vincent Smith (Hist. of India, ed. III. p. 320) intimates that Yaśodharman performed considerable exploits but was inordinately boastful.
[360] See Norman in Trans. Third Int. Congress of Religions, II. p. 85. In the Ind. Ant. 1918, p. 145, Jayaswal argues that Kalkî is a historical figure and is the same as King Yaśodharman of Central India (around A.D. 500), suggesting that the notion of him being a future savior is a later development. This theory has its challenges, as there’s no evidence that the sections of the Mahabharata that mention Kalkî (III. 190, 13101; III. 191, 13111; XII. 340, 12968) were added after Yaśodharman's time. Additionally, if Kalkî initially was a historical figure who was later envisioned as a future savior, we would expect references to him coming again, but such wording does not appear. On the flip side, it seems quite possible that (1) there was an ancient tradition regarding a future savior named Kalkî, (2) that Yaśodharman, after defeating the Huns, took on this identity, and (3) when it became clear that the promised golden age did not come, he was forgotten (like many false Messiahs have been), and Kalkî once again became a symbol of hope for the future. Vincent Smith (Hist. of India, ed. III. p. 320) suggests that Yaśodharman achieved significant feats but was excessively boastful.
[365] Ekanâtha, who lived in the sixteenth century, calls the Adhyâtma R. a modern work. See Bhandarkar, Vaishn. and Saivism, page 48. The Yoga-Vasishtḥa R. purports to be instruction given by Vasishṭha to Râma who wishes to abandon the world. Its date is uncertain but it is quoted by authors of the fourteenth century. It is very popular, especially in south India, where an abridgment in Tamil called Jñâna-Vasishṭha is much read. Its doctrine appears to be Vedântist with a good deal of Buddhist philosophy. Salvation is never to think that pleasures and pains are "mine."
[365] Ekanâtha, who lived in the sixteenth century, refers to the Adhyâtma R. as a modern work. See Bhandarkar, Vaishn. and Saivism, page 48. The Yoga-Vasishtḥa R. is presented as teachings given by Vasishṭha to Râma, who wants to leave the material world behind. Its exact date is unclear, but it is referenced by authors from the fourteenth century. It is very popular, particularly in southern India, where a shortened version in Tamil called Jñâna-Vasishṭha is widely read. Its teachings seem to be Vedântist with significant influence from Buddhist philosophy. The key message is that one should never consider pleasures and pains to be "mine."
[366] Châṇḍ. Up. III. 17.6
[367] The Kaush. Brâhm. says that Kṛishṇa was an Âṅgirasa XXX. g. The Anukramanî says that the Kṛishṇa of Ṛig Veda, VIII. 74 was an Âṅgirasa. For Ghora Âṅgirasa "the dread descendent of the Angirases" see Macdonell and Keith, Vedic Index, s.v.
[367] The Kaush. Brâhm. states that Kṛishṇa was an Âṅgirasa. The Anukramanî mentions that the Kṛishṇa in Ṛig Veda, VIII. 74, was also an Âṅgirasa. For Ghora Âṅgirasa, "the terrifying descendant of the Angirases," see Macdonell and Keith, Vedic Index, s.v.
[368] E.g. Dig. Nik. V. The Pâncarâtra expressly states that Yoga is worship of the heart and self-sacrifice, being thus a counterpart of the external sacrifice (bâhyayâga).
[368] For example, Dig. Nik. V. The Pâncarâtra clearly says that Yoga is about heartfelt worship and selflessness, serving as a counterpart to external sacrifice (bâhyayâga).
[369] Pâṇ. IV. 3. 98, Vâsudevârjunâbhyâm vun. See Bhandarkar, Vaishnavism and Śaivism, p. 3 and J.R.A.S. 1910, p. 168. Sûtra 95, just above, appears to point to bhakti, faith or devotion, felt for this Vâsudeva.
[369] Pâṇ. IV. 3. 98, Vâsudevârjunâbhyâm vun. See Bhandarkar, Vaishnavism and Śaivism, p. 3 and J.R.A.S. 1910, p. 168. Sûtra 95, mentioned just above, seems to refer to bhakti, which is the faith or devotion felt towards this Vâsudeva.
[371] X. i, vi.
[372] III. i. 23, Ulâro so Kaṇho isi ahosi. But this may refer to the Rishi mentioned in R.V. VIII. 74 who has not necessarily anything to do with the god Kṛishṇa.
[372] III. i. 23, Ulâro so Kaṇho isi ahosi. But this might refer to the sage mentioned in R.V. VIII. 74, who doesn't necessarily have any connection to the god Kṛishṇa.
[375] III. XV.
[376] It would seem that the temple of Dvârakâ was built between the composition of the narrative in the Mahâbhârata and of the Vishṇu Purâṇa, for while the former says the whole town was destroyed by the sea, the latter excepts the temple and says that whoever visits it is freed from all his sins. See Wilson, Vishṇu Purâṇa, V. p. 155.
[376] It seems that the temple of Dvârakâ was built between the time the Mahâbhârata was written and when the Vishṇu Purâṇa was composed, because while the first text states that the entire town was destroyed by the sea, the second one mentions the temple as an exception and states that anyone who visits it is freed from all their sins. See Wilson, Vishṇu Purâṇa, V. p. 155.
[378] Neither can I agree with some scholars that Kṛishṇa is mainly and primarily a deity of vegetation. All Indian ideas about the Universe and God emphasize the interaction of life and death, growth and decay, spring and winter. Kṛishṇa is undoubtedly associated with life, growth and generation, but so is Śiva the destroyer, or rather the transmuter. The account in the Mahâbhâshya (on Pân. III. 1. 26) of the masque representing the slaughter of Kaṃsa by Kṛishṇa is surely a slight foundation for the theory that Kṛishṇa was a nature god. It might be easily argued that Christ is a vegetation spirit, for not only is Easter a spring festival but there are numerous allusions to sowing and harvest in the Gospels and Paul illustrates the resurrection by the germination of corn. It is a mistake to seek for uniformity in the history of religion. There were in ancient times different types of mind which invented different kinds of gods, just as now professors invent different theories about gods.
[378] I also don't agree with some scholars who claim that Kṛishṇa is mainly a deity of vegetation. All Indian concepts of the Universe and God highlight the relationship between life and death, growth and decay, spring and winter. Kṛishṇa is certainly linked to life, growth, and generation, but so is Śiva, who represents destruction or transformation. The description in the Mahâbhâshya (on Pân. III. 1. 26) of the play depicting Kṛishṇa's defeat of Kaṃsa is hardly strong evidence for the idea that Kṛishṇa was a nature god. One could easily argue that Christ is a vegetation spirit since Easter is a spring festival, and there are many references to sowing and harvest in the Gospels, with Paul illustrating resurrection through the germination of corn. It’s a mistake to look for uniformity in the history of religion. In ancient times, different mindsets created various types of gods, just like today’s scholars develop different theories about them.
[381] Bhandarkar. Allusions to Kṛishṇa in Mahâbhâshya, Ind. Ant. 1874, p. 14. For the pastoral Kṛishṇa see Bhandarkar, Vaishṇavism and Śaivism, chap. IX.
[381] Bhandarkar. References to Kṛishṇa in Mahâbhâshya, Ind. Ant. 1874, p. 14. For the pastoral Kṛishṇa see Bhandarkar, Vaishṇavism and Śaivism, chap. IX.
[382] The divinity of Râdhâ is taught specially in the Brahma-vaivarta Purâṇa and the Nârada pâncarâtra, also called Jñânâmṛitasâra. She is also described in the Gopâla-tâpanîya Upanishad of unknown date.
[382] The divinity of Râdhâ is specifically discussed in the Brahma-vaivarta Purâṇa and the Nârada pâncarâtra, also known as Jñânâmṛitasâra. She is also mentioned in the Gopâla-tâpanîya Upanishad, which has an unknown date.
[383] But Kaṃsa appears in both series of legends, i.e., in the Ghata-Jâtaka which contains no hint of the pastoral legends but is a variant of the story of the warlike Kṛishṇa.
[383] But Kaṃsa shows up in both sets of legends, meaning in the Ghata-Jâtaka, which has no trace of the pastoral stories but is a different version of the tale of the warrior Kṛishṇa.
[384] Vishṇu Purâṇa, V. 10, 11 from which the quotations in the text are taken. Much of it is repeated in the Harivamsa. See for instance H. 3808.
[384] Vishnu Purana, Chapter 5, Verses 10 and 11, from which the quotes in the text are sourced. A lot of it is repeated in the Harivamsa. For example, see H. 3808.
[385] The Muttra cycle of legends cannot be very late for the inscription of Glai Lomor in Champa (811 A.D.) speaks of Nârâyana holding up Goburdhan and a Cambojan inscription of Prea Eynkosey (970 A.D.) speaks of the banks of the Yamunâ where Kṛishṇa sported. These legends must have been prevalent in India some time before they travelled so far. Some of them are depicted on a pillar found at Mandor and possibly referable to the fourth century A.D. See Arch. Survey Ind. 1905-1906, p. 135.
[385] The Muttra cycle of legends can't be very late because the inscription of Glai Lomor in Champa (811 A.D.) mentions Nârâyana lifting up Goburdhan, and a Cambodian inscription from Prea Eynkosey (970 A.D.) talks about the banks of the Yamunâ where Kṛishṇa played. These legends must have been common in India well before they spread so far. Some of them are illustrated on a pillar found at Mandor, which may date back to the fourth century A.D. See Arch. Survey Ind. 1905-1906, p. 135.
[388] In the Sutta-nipâta Mâra, the Evil One is called Kaṇha, the phonetic equivalent of Kṛishṇa in Prâkrit. Can it be that Mâra and his daughters have anything to do with Kṛishṇa and the Gopîs?
[388] In the Sutta-nipâta, Mara, the Evil One, is referred to as Kaṇha, which is the phonetic equivalent of Kṛishṇa in Prâkrit. Could it be that Mara and his daughters have any connection to Kṛishṇa and the Gopîs?
[389] Compare the Greek stories of the infant Hermes who steals Apollo's cattle and invents the lyre. Compare too, as having a general resemblance to fantastic Indian legends, the story of young Hephæstus.
[389] Look at the Greek tales about baby Hermes who steals Apollo's cows and creates the lyre. Also, compare the story of young Hephaestus, which has a general similarity to extraordinary Indian legends.
[392] Life and Sayings of Râmakṛishṇa. Trans. F. Max Müller, pp. 137-8. The English poet Crashaw makes free use of religious metaphors drawn from love and even Francis Thompson represents God as the lover of the Soul, e.g. in his poem Any Saint.
[392] Life and Sayings of Râmakṛishṇa. Trans. F. Max Müller, pp. 137-8. The English poet Crashaw freely uses religious metaphors from love, and even Francis Thompson portrays God as the lover of the Soul, e.g. in his poem Any Saint.
[394] Mahâbhâr. Sabhâp. XIV. Vishṇu Pur. V. xxxiv. The name also occurs in the Taittirîya Âraṇyaka (i. 31) a work of moderate if not great antiquity Nâzâyanâya vidmahe Vasudevâya dhîmahi.
[394] Mahâbhâr. Sabhâp. XIV. Vishṇu Pur. V. xxxiv. The name also appears in the Taittirîya Âraṇyaka (i. 31), a work of moderate if not significant age: Nâzâyanâya vidmahe Vasudevâya dhîmahi.
[396] Thus the Saura Purâṇa inveighs against the Mâdhva sect (XXXVIII.-XL.) and calls Vishṇu the servant of Śiva: a Purâṇic legal work called the Vriddha-Harita-Samhitâ is said to contain a polemic against Śiva. Occasionally we hear of collisions between the followers of Vishṇu and Śiva or the desecration of temples by hostile fanatics. But such conflicts take place most often not between widely different sects but between subdivisions of the same sect, e.g., Tengalais and Vadagalais. It would seem too that at present most Hindus of the higher castes avoid ostentatious membership of the modern sects, and though they may practise special devotion to either Vishṇu or Śiva, yet they visit the temples of both deities when they go on pilgrimages. Jogendra Nath Bhattacharya in his Hindu Castes and Sects says (p. 364) that aristocratic Brahmans usually keep in their private chapels both a salâgram representing Vishṇu and emblems representing Śiva and his spouse. Hence different observers vary in their estimates of the importance of sectarian divisions, some holding that sect is the essence of modern Hinduism and others that most educated Hindus do not worship a sectarian deity. The Kûrma Purâṇa, Part I. chap. XXII. contains some curious rules as to what deities should be worshipped by the various classes of men and spirits.
[396] So the Saura Purâṇa criticizes the Mâdhva sect (XXXVIII.-XL.) and refers to Vishṇu as the servant of Śiva: a Purâṇic legal text known as the Vriddha-Harita-Samhitâ is said to have arguments against Śiva. Sometimes we hear about clashes between the followers of Vishṇu and Śiva or the vandalism of temples by extreme fanatics. However, these conflicts usually occur not between very different sects but between branches of the same sect, for example, Tengalais and Vadagalais. It also seems that nowadays, most higher-caste Hindus avoid being openly associated with modern sects, and while they may have special devotion to either Vishṇu or Śiva, they still visit the temples of both deities when they go on pilgrimages. Jogendra Nath Bhattacharya in his Hindu Castes and Sects states (p. 364) that upper-class Brahmans typically keep in their private chapels both a salâgram representing Vishṇu and symbols representing Śiva and his consort. Thus, different observers have varying views on the significance of sectarian divisions, with some believing that sect is central to modern Hinduism, while others argue that most educated Hindus do not worship a sectarian deity. The Kûrma Purâṇa, Part I. chap. XXII. contains some interesting rules about which deities different classes of people and spirits should worship.
[397] Bhag.-gîtâ, XL. 23-34.
[399] II. 1 and I. 1.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II. 1 and I. 1.
[400] See Maitrâyaṇa Up. V. 2. It is highly probable that the celebrated image at Elephanta is not a Trimûrti at all but a Maheśamûrti of Śiva. See Gopinâtha Rao, Hindu Iconog. II. 382.
[400] See Maitrâyaṇa Up. V. 2. It is very likely that the famous statue at Elephanta is not a Trimûrti at all but a Maheśamûrti of Śiva. See Gopinâtha Rao, Hindu Iconog. II. 382.
CHAPTER XXVI
FEATURES OF HINDUISM: RITUAL, CASTE, SECT, FAITH
1
In the last chapter I traced the growth of the great gods Śiva and Vishṇu. The prominence of these figures is one of the marks which distinguish the later phase of Indian religion from the earlier. But it is also distinguished by various practices, institutions and beliefs, which are more or less connected with the new deities. Such are a new ritual, the elaboration of the caste system, the growth of sects, and the tendency to make devotion to a particular deity the essence of religion. In the present chapter I shall say something of these phenomena.
In the last chapter, I explored the rise of the major gods Śiva and Vishṇu. The significance of these figures is one of the characteristics that set the later phase of Indian religion apart from the earlier one. However, this period is also marked by various practices, institutions, and beliefs that are more or less linked to the new deities. These include a new ritual, the expansion of the caste system, the emergence of sects, and the trend of making devotion to a specific deity central to religion. In this chapter, I will discuss these phenomena.
Hinduism has often and justly been compared to a jungle. As in the jungle every particle of soil seems to put forth its spirit in vegetable life and plants grow on plants, creepers and parasites on their more stalwart brethren, so in India art, commerce, warfare and crime, every human interest and aspiration seek for a manifestation in religion, and since men and women of all classes and occupations, all stages of education and civilization, have contributed to Hinduism, much of it seems low, foolish and even immoral. The jungle is not a park or garden. Whatever can grow in it, does grow. The Brahmans are not gardeners but forest officers. To attempt a history or description of Indian creeds seems an enterprise as vast, hopeless and pathless as a general account of European politics. As for many centuries the life of Europe has expressed itself in politics, so for even longer ages the life of India, which has more inhabitants than western Europe,[401] has found expression in religion, speculation and philosophy, and has left of all this thought a voluminous record, mighty in bulk if wanting in dates and events. And why should it chronicle them? The truly religious mind does not care for the history of religion, [167]just as among us the scientific mind does not dwell on the history of science.
Hinduism has often and rightly been compared to a jungle. Just like in a jungle, where every bit of soil seems to bring forth life and plants grow on other plants, with vines and parasites clinging to their sturdier counterparts, in India, art, commerce, warfare, and crime—every human interest and aspiration—find their expression in religion. Because people from all walks of life, including various classes, professions, and levels of education and culture, have contributed to Hinduism, some aspects of it appear low, silly, and even immoral. The jungle isn't a park or garden; anything that can thrive in it does. The Brahmins are not gardeners but forest rangers. Trying to write a history or description of Indian beliefs seems as enormous, futile, and directionless as a general overview of European politics. For many centuries, life in Europe has expressed itself through politics, while India’s life, which has more people than Western Europe,[401] has found its voice in religion, speculation, and philosophy, leaving behind an extensive record of thought that is massive in volume but lacking in dates and events. And why should it document those? The genuinely religious mind isn’t concerned with the history of religion, [167] just as the scientific mind among us doesn't focus on the history of science.
Yet in spite of their exuberance Hinduism and the jungle have considerable uniformity. Here and there in a tropical forest some well-grown tree or brilliant flower attracts attention, but the general impression left on the traveller by the vegetation as he passes through it mile after mile is infinite repetition as well as infinite luxuriance. And so in Hinduism. A monograph on one god or one teacher is an interesting study. But if we continue the experiment, different gods and different teachers are found to be much the same. We can write about Vishnuism and Śivaism as if they were different religions and this, though incomplete, is not incorrect. But in their higher phases both show much the same excellences and when degraded both lead to much the same abuses, except that the worship of Vishṇu does not allow animal sacrifices. This is true even of externals. In the temples of Madura, Poona and Benares, the deities, the rites, the doctrines, the race of the worshippers and the architecture are all different, yet the impression of uniformity is strong. In spite of divergences the religion is the same in all three places: it smacks of the soil and nothing like it can be found outside India.
Yet despite their vibrancy, Hinduism and the jungle exhibit a considerable sameness. Occasionally, a well-grown tree or a striking flower stands out in a tropical forest, but the overall impression left on a traveler as they move through it for mile after mile is one of endless repetition along with endless richness. The same can be said for Hinduism. A detailed study of one god or teacher can be fascinating. However, if we continue exploring, we find that different gods and teachers are quite similar. We can discuss Vishnuism and Śivaism as if they were separate religions, and while this isn't fully accurate, it's not wrong. In their higher forms, both share many of the same qualities, and in their lower forms, both tend to lead to similar issues, except that Vishnu worship doesn’t involve animal sacrifices. This consistency extends to external aspects too. In the temples of Madura, Poona, and Benares, the deities, rituals, teachings, the heritage of the worshippers, and the architecture may differ, yet the overall sense of uniformity is strong. Despite these differences, the essence of the religion remains the same in all three locations: it reflects the local soil, and nothing quite like it can be found outside of India.
Hinduism is an unusual combination of animism and pantheism, which are commonly regarded as the extremes of savage and of philosophic belief. In India both may be found separately but frequently they are combined in startling juxtaposition. The same person who worships Vishṇu as identical with the universe also worships him in the form of a pebble or plant.[402] The average Hindu, who cannot live permanently in the altitudes of pantheistic thought, regards his gods as great natural forces, akin to the mighty rivers which he also worships, irresistible and often beneficent but also capricious and destructive. Whereas Judaism, Christianity and Islam all identify the moral law with the will and conduct of the deity, in Hinduism this is not completely admitted in practice, though a library might be filled [168]with the beautiful things that have been said about man and God. The outward forms of Indian religion are pagan after the fashion of the ancient world, a fashion which has in most lands passed away. But whereas in the fourth century A.D. European paganism, despite the efforts of anti-Christian eclectics, proved inelastic and incapable of satisfying new religious cravings, this did not happen in India. The bottles of Hinduism have always proved capable of holding all the wine poured into them. When a new sentiment takes possession of men's souls, such as love, repentance, or the sense of sin, some deity of many shapes and sympathies straightway adapts himself to the needs of his worshippers. And yet in so doing the deity, though he enlarges himself, does not change, and the result is that we often meet with strange anachronisms, as if Jephthah should listen appreciatively to the Sermon on the Mount and then sacrifice his daughter to Christ. Many Hindu temples are served by dancing girls who are admittedly prostitutes,[403] an institution which takes us back to the cultus of Corinth and Babylon and is without parallel in any nation on approximately the same level of civilization. Only British law prevents widows from being burned with their dead husbands, though even in the Vedic age the custom had been discontinued as barbarous.[404] But for the same legislation, human sacrifice would probably be common. What the gods do and what their worshippers do in their service cannot according to Hindu opinion be judged by ordinary laws of right and wrong. The god is supra-moral: the worshipper when he enters the temple leaves conventionality outside.
Hinduism is a unique blend of animism and pantheism, which are often seen as the extremes of primitive and philosophical belief. In India, both can be found separately, but they are frequently combined in surprising ways. The same person who worships Vishṇu as identical with the universe also worships him in the form of a pebble or plant. [402] The average Hindu, who cannot permanently engage with the heights of pantheistic thought, views his gods as powerful natural forces, similar to the mighty rivers he also worships—uncontrollable and often beneficial, but also unpredictable and destructive. While Judaism, Christianity, and Islam all associate the moral law with the will and actions of God, Hinduism doesn't fully admit this in practice, even if a library could be filled [168] with the beautiful things said about man and God. The outward forms of Indian religion are pagan in the manner of the ancient world, a style that has mostly disappeared elsewhere. Yet, while in the fourth century A.D. European paganism, despite the efforts of anti-Christian thinkers, proved inflexible and unable to satisfy new religious desires, this was not the case in India. The vessels of Hinduism have always been able to accommodate all the new ideas introduced into them. When a new feeling, such as love, remorse, or the awareness of sin, arises in people's hearts, some deity with multiple forms and sympathies quickly adapts to meet the needs of his worshippers. And yet, in doing so, the deity, while expanding his identity, does not change, resulting in often strange anachronisms—like if Jephthah were to listen appreciatively to the Sermon on the Mount and then sacrifice his daughter to Christ. Many Hindu temples are attended by dancing girls who are openly acknowledged to be prostitutes,[403] an institution that takes us back to the worship practices of Corinth and Babylon and has no parallel in any nation at a similar level of civilization. Only British law prevents widows from being burned with their deceased husbands, though even in the Vedic age, this practice had already been halted as barbaric.[404] Without such legislation, human sacrifice would likely still be common. What gods do and what their worshippers do in their service cannot, in Hindu belief, be judged by ordinary standards of right and wrong. The god is beyond morality: the worshipper, upon entering the temple, leaves conventional expectations outside.
Yet it is unfair to represent Hinduism as characterized by licence and cruelty. Such tendencies are counterbalanced by the strength and prevalence of ideas based on renunciation and self-effacement. All desire, all attachment to the world is an evil; all self-assertion is wrong. Hinduism is constantly in extremes: sometimes it exults in the dances of Kṛishṇa or the destructive fury of Kâlî: more often it struggles for release from the transitory and for union with the permanent and real by [169] self-denial or rather self-negation, which aims at the total suppression of both pleasure and pain. This is on the whole its dominant note.
Yet it's unfair to portray Hinduism as simply about indulgence and cruelty. These tendencies are balanced by the strength and prevalence of ideas centered on renunciation and self-effacement. All desire and attachment to the world are seen as evils; all self-assertion is considered wrong. Hinduism often exists in extremes: sometimes it celebrates the dances of Kṛishṇa or the fierce energy of Kâlî; but more often, it seeks to escape the fleeting and connect with the eternal and real through self-denial, or rather self-negation, which aims at completely suppressing both pleasure and pain. This, overall, is its main theme.
In the records accessible to us the transition from Brahmanism—that is, the religion of the Vedas and Brâhmaṇas—to Hinduism does not appear as direct but as masked by Buddhism. We see Buddhism grow at the expense of Brahmanism. We are then conscious that it becomes profoundly modified under the influence of new ideas. We see it decay and the religion of the Brahmans emerge victorious. But that religion is not what it was when Buddhism first arose, and is henceforth generally known as Hinduism. The materials for studying the period in which the change occurred—say 400 B.C. to 400 A.D.—are not scanty, but they do not facilitate chronological investigation. Art and architecture are mainly Buddhist until the Gupta period (c. 320 A.D.) and literature, though plentiful, is undated. The Mahâbhârata and Râmâyaṇa must have been edited in the course of these 800 years, but they consist of different strata and it is not easy to separate and arrange them without assuming what we want to prove. From 400 B.C. (if not from an earlier date) onwards there grew up a great volume of epic poetry, founded on popular ballads, telling the stories of Râma and the Pâṇḍavas.[405] It was distinct from the canonical literatures of both Brahmans and Buddhists, but though it was not in its essential character religious, yet so general in India is the interest in religion that whole theological treatises were incorporated in these stories without loss, in Indian opinion, to the interest of the narrative. If at the present day a congregation is seen [170] in a Hindu temple listening to a recitation, the text which is being chanted will often prove to be part of the Mahâbhârata. Such a ceremony is not due to forgetfulness of the Veda but is a repetition of what happened long before our era when rhapsodists strung together popular narratives and popular theology. Such theology cannot be rigidly separated from Brahmanism and Buddhism. It grew up under their influence and accepted their simpler ideas. But it brought with it popular beliefs which did not strictly speaking belong to either system. By attacking the main Brahmanic doctrines the Buddhists gave the popular religion its opportunity. For instance, they condemned animal sacrifices and derided the idea that trained priests and complicated rites are necessary. This did not destroy the influence of the Brahmans but it disposed them to admit that the Vedic sacrifices are not the only means of salvation and to authorize other rites and beliefs. It was about this time, too, that a series of invasions began to pour into India from the north-west. It may be hard to distinguish between the foreign beliefs which they introduced and the Indian beliefs which they accepted and modified. But it is clear that their general effect was to upset traditional ideas associated with a ritual and learning which required lifelong study.
In the records available to us, the shift from Brahmanism—that is, the religion of the Vedas and Brâhmaṇas—to Hinduism doesn't seem to be direct but is hidden by Buddhism. We observe Buddhism growing at the expense of Brahmanism. We then realize that it becomes significantly altered under the influence of new ideas. We witness its decline and the rise of Brahman religion as dominant. However, that religion is not what it was when Buddhism first appeared, and from then on is generally referred to as Hinduism. The resources for studying the time in which this change took place—let's say from 400 B.C. to 400 A.D.—are not limited, but they don't make chronological investigation easy. Art and architecture are predominantly Buddhist until the Gupta period (around 320 A.D.), and although literature is abundant, it lacks dates. The Mahâbhârata and Râmâyaṇa must have been compiled over these 800 years, but they consist of different layers, making it challenging to separate and organize them without presuming what we want to prove. Starting from 400 B.C. (if not earlier), a significant body of epic poetry emerged, based on popular ballads, narrating the stories of Râma and the Pâṇḍavas.[405] It was distinct from the official literatures of both Brahmans and Buddhists, but while it wasn't fundamentally religious, the widespread interest in religion in India meant that entire theological treatises were woven into these stories without diminishing, in Indian opinion, the narrative's appeal. If today you see a congregation in a Hindu temple listening to a recitation, the text being chanted often turns out to be part of the Mahâbhārata. This practice isn’t due to forgetting the Veda but repeats what happened long before our era when rhapsodists combined popular narratives with popular theology. This theology can't be rigidly separated from Brahmanism or Buddhism. It developed under their influence and adopted their simpler ideas. Yet, it also introduced popular beliefs that didn’t strictly belong to either system. By challenging the main Brahmanic doctrines, the Buddhists provided the popular religion with its chance to thrive. For example, they criticized animal sacrifices and mocked the idea that trained priests and elaborate rituals are necessary. This didn't erase the Brahmans' influence, but it led them to acknowledge that Vedic sacrifices are not the only path to salvation and to accept other rites and beliefs. Around this time, a series of invasions began pouring into India from the northwest. It may be difficult to differentiate between the foreign beliefs they brought and the Indian beliefs they adopted and adapted. However, their overall effect was to disrupt traditional ideas tied to a ritual and learning that required lifelong study.
2
It has been well said[406] that Buddhism did not waste away in India until rival sects had appropriated from it everything they could make use of. Perhaps Hinduism had an even stronger doctrinal influence on Buddhism. The deification of the Buddha, the invention of Bodhisattvas who are equivalent to gods and the extraordinary alliance between late Buddhism and Śivaism, are all instances of the general Indian view overcoming the special Buddhist view. But Buddhism is closely connected with the theory of incarnations and the development of the Advaita philosophy, and in the externals of religion, in rites, ceremonies and institutions, its influence was great and lasting. We may take first the doctrine of Ahiṃsâ, non-injury, or in other words the sanctity of animal life. This beautiful doctrine, the glory of India, if not invented by the Buddha at least arose in schools which were not Brahmanic and were related to the Jain [171] and Buddhist movements. It formed no part of the Vedic religion in which sacrifice often meant butchery. But in Hinduism, it meets with extensive though not universal acceptance. With the Vaishṇavas it is an article of faith nor do the worshippers of Śiva usually propitiate him with animal sacrifices, though these are offered by the Śâktas and also by the small class of Brahmans who still preserve the Vedic ritual.[407] Hardly any Hindus habitually eat meat and most abhor it, especially beef. Yet beef-eating seems to have been permitted in Vedic times and even when parts of the Mahâbhârata were composed.
It has been well said[406] that Buddhism didn’t fade away in India until other sects took everything they could from it. It's possible that Hinduism had an even greater impact on Buddhism's beliefs. The deification of the Buddha, the creation of Bodhisattvas who are like gods, and the strong connection between later Buddhism and Śivaism are all examples of the broader Indian perspective overshadowing the unique Buddhist viewpoint. However, Buddhism is closely tied to the idea of reincarnation and the development of Advaita philosophy, and its influence on the outward aspects of religion—like rituals, ceremonies, and institutions—was significant and enduring. We can start with the concept of Ahiṃsâ, or non-violence, which emphasizes the sanctity of animal life. This beautiful principle, a source of pride for India, may not have originated with the Buddha, but it emerged from schools that weren’t Brahmanic and were related to the Jain [171] and Buddhist movements. It wasn’t part of the Vedic religion, where sacrifices often involved slaughter. However, in Hinduism, it is widely accepted though not universally. For the Vaishṇavas, it is a core belief, and followers of Śiva typically do not placate him with animal sacrifices, although the Śâktas and a small group of Brahmans who continue Vedic rituals do. [407] Very few Hindus regularly eat meat, and most despise it, especially beef. However, eating beef seems to have been allowed during Vedic times and even when some parts of the Mahâbhârata were written.
Apart from animal sacrifices Buddhism was the main agent in effecting a mighty revolution in worship and ritual. One is tempted to regard the change as total and complete, but such wide assertions are rarely true in India: customs and institutions are not swept away by reformers but are cut down like the grass and like the grass grow up again. They sometimes die out but they are rarely destroyed. The Vedic sacrifices are still occasionally offered,[408] but for many centuries have been almost entirely superseded by another form of worship associated with temples and the veneration of images. This must have become the dominant form of Hindu cultus in the first few centuries of our era and probably earlier. It is one of the ironies of fate that the Buddha and his followers should be responsible for the growth of image worship, but it seems to be true. He laughed at sacrifices and left to his disciples only two forms of religious exercise, sermons and meditation. For Indian monks, this was perhaps sufficient, but the laity craved for some outward form of worship. This was soon found in the respect shown to the memory of the Buddha and the relics of his body, although Hinduism never took kindly to relic worship. We hear too of Cetiyas. In the Piṭakas this word means a popular shrine unconnected with either Buddhist or Brahmanic ceremonial, sometimes [172] perhaps merely a sacred tree or stone, probably honoured by such simple rites as decorating it with paint or flowers. A little later, in Buddhist times, the Cetiya became a cenotaph or reliquary, generally located near a monastery and surrounded by a passage for reverential circumambulation.
Apart from animal sacrifices, Buddhism played a pivotal role in bringing about a significant revolution in worship and rituals. It's tempting to see this change as complete, but such broad statements are rarely accurate in India: customs and institutions aren't eliminated by reformers; they get cut down like grass and eventually grow back. They may sometimes fade away, but they're seldom fully destroyed. Vedic sacrifices are still occasionally performed,[408] but for many centuries they've been largely replaced by a different style of worship associated with temples and the veneration of images. This new form likely became the dominant aspect of Hindu worship in the first few centuries of our era, if not earlier. Interestingly, the Buddha and his followers contributed to the rise of image worship, which is somewhat ironic. He dismissed sacrifices and left his disciples with only two forms of religious practice: sermons and meditation. For Indian monks, this was probably enough, but the lay community sought some outward expression of worship. This was soon found in the respect given to the Buddha's memory and his relics, even though Hinduism was never very receptive to relic worship. We also hear about Cetiyas. In the Piṭakas, this term refers to a popular shrine that isn’t connected to either Buddhist or Brahmanic rituals, sometimes just a sacred tree or stone, likely honored with simple acts like decorating it with paint or flowers. A bit later, during Buddhist times, the Cetiya evolved into a cenotaph or reliquary, typically situated near a monastery and surrounded by a path for respectful circumambulation.
Allusions in the Piṭakas also indicate that then as now there were fairs. The early Buddhists thought that though such gatherings were not edifying they might be made so. They erected sacred buildings near a monastery, and held festivals so that people might collect together, visit a holy place, and hear sermons. In the earliest known sanctuaries, the funeral monument (for we can scarcely doubt that this is the origin of the stûpa)[409] has already assumed the conventional form known as Dagoba, consisting of a dome and chest of relics, with a spire at the top, the whole surrounded by railings or a colonnade, but though the carving is lavish, no figure of the Buddha himself is to be seen. He is represented by a symbol such as a footprint, wheel, or tree. But in the later school of sculpture known as Gandhara or Græco-Buddhist he is frequently shown in a full length portrait. This difference is remarkable. It is easy to say that in the older school the Buddha was not depicted out of reverence, but less easy to see why such delineation should have shocked an Indian. But at any rate there is no difficulty in understanding that Greeks or artists influenced by Greeks would think it obvious and proper to make an effigy of their principal hero.
Allusions in the Piṭakas also show that there were fairs back then just like there are today. The early Buddhists believed that while these gatherings might not be spiritually uplifting, they could be made meaningful. They built sacred structures near monasteries and organized festivals so people could come together, visit holy sites, and listen to sermons. In the earliest known sanctuaries, the funeral monument (which we can hardly doubt is the origin of the stûpa)[409] has already taken on the typical shape known as a Dagoba, featuring a dome and a reliquary chest, topped with a spire and surrounded by railings or a colonnade. Although the carving is elaborate, no figure of the Buddha himself is visible. Instead, he is symbolized by representations like a footprint, wheel, or tree. However, in the later Gandhara or Græco-Buddhist school of sculpture, he is often shown in a full-length portrait. This contrast is significant. It's easy to say that in the older school, the Buddha was not depicted out of reverence, but it's less clear why such imagery would have shocked an Indian. Nonetheless, it's understandable that Greeks or artists influenced by them would find it natural and appropriate to create a statue of their main hero.
In these shrines we have if not the origin of the Hindu temple, at any rate a parallel development more nearly allied to it than anything in the Vedic religion.[410] For the Buddhist shrine was a monument built over a receptacle containing relics and the essential feature of Hindu temples is a cell containing an image or emblem and generally surmounted by a tower. The surrounding courts and corridors may assume gigantic proportions, but the central shrine is never large. Images had no place [173] in the Vedic sacrifices and those now worshipped in temples are generally small and rude, and sometimes (as at Bhuvaneshwar and Srirangam) the deity is represented by a block or carved stone which cannot be moved, and may have been honoured as a sacred rock long before the name of Vishṇu or Śiva was known in those regions.[411] The conspicuous statues often found outside the shrine are not generally worshipped and are merely ornaments. Buddhism did not create the type of ritual now used in Hindu temples, yet it contributed towards it, for it attacked the old Brahmanic sacrifices, it countenanced the idea that particular places and objects are holy, and it encouraged the use of images. It is strange that these widespread ideas should find no place in the Vedic religion, but even now-a-days whenever the old Vedic sacrifices are celebrated they are uncontaminated by the temple ceremonial. More than this, the priests or Pujâris who officiate in temples are not always Brahmans and they rarely enjoy much consideration.[412] This curious and marked feature may be connected with the inveterate Indian feeling that, though it is well to multiply rites and rules for neophytes, no great respect is due to men occupied with mere ceremonial. But it also testifies to a dim consciousness that modern temples and their ceremonies have little to do with the thoughts and mode of life which made the Brahmans a force in India. In many ways the Brahmans dissociate themselves from popular religion. Those of good family will not perform religious rites for Śûdras and treat the Brahmans who do so as inferiors.[413]
In these shrines, we have, if not the origin of the Hindu temple, at least a similar development that is more closely related to it than anything in Vedic religion.[410] The Buddhist shrine was a monument built over a container holding relics, and the key feature of Hindu temples is a cell that contains an image or symbol, usually topped with a tower. The surrounding courtyards and corridors can be massive, but the central shrine is never very large. Images weren’t part of Vedic sacrifices, and the ones worshipped in temples today are generally small and crude. Sometimes (as at Bhuvaneshwar and Srirangam), the deity is represented by a block or carved stone that can’t be moved and may have been revered as a sacred rock long before the names Vishṇu or Śiva were known in those areas.[411] The large statues often found outside the shrine are usually not worshipped and are simply decorations. Buddhism didn’t create the type of rituals now found in Hindu temples, yet it played a role in shaping them because it challenged old Brahmanic sacrifices, supported the idea that certain places and objects are sacred, and promoted the use of images. It’s strange that these widespread ideas were absent in Vedic religion, but even today, when old Vedic sacrifices are performed, they are free from temple rituals. Moreover, the priests or Pujâris who serve in temples are not always Brahmans and they rarely receive much respect.[412] This peculiar and notable feature may relate to the deep-rooted Indian belief that while it's good to increase rites and rules for newcomers, no significant respect is owed to those focused merely on ceremony. But it also reflects a vague awareness that modern temples and their rituals have little connection to the thoughts and lifestyle that once made the Brahmans a significant force in India. In many ways, the Brahmans separate themselves from popular religion. Those from respectable families won’t perform religious rites for Śûdras and consider the Brahmans who do so as inferior.[413]
The simplest ceremonial in use at the present day is that employed in some Śivaite temples. It consists in placing leaves on the linga and pouring holy water over it. These rites, which may be descended from prehistoric stone worship, are generally [174] accompanied by the reading of a Purâna. But the commonest form of temple ritual consists in treating the image or symbol as an honoured human being.[414] It is awakened, bathed, dressed and put to bed at the close of day. Meals are served to it at the usual hours. The food thus offered is called prasâd (or favour) and is eaten by the devout. Once or twice a day the god holds a levee and on festivals he is carried in procession. These ceremonies are specially characteristic of the worship of Kṛishṇa whose images receive all the endearments lavished on a pet child. But they are also used in the temples of Śiva and Parvatî, and no less than twenty-two of them are performed in the course of the day at the temple of Bhuvaneshwar in Orissa. It is clear that the spirit of these rites is very different from that which inspires public worship in other civilized countries at the present day. They are not congregational or didactic, though if any of the faithful are in the temple at the time of the god's levee it is proper for them to enter and salute him. Neither do they recall the magical ceremonies of the Vedic sacrifices.[415] The waving of lights (arati) before the god and the burning of incense are almost the only acts suggestive of ecclesiastical ritual. The rest consists in treating a symbol or image as if it were a living thing capable of enjoying simple physical pleasures. Here there are two strata. We have really ancient rites, such as the anointing or ornamenting of stones and offerings of food in sacred places. In this class too we may reckon the sacrifice of goats (and formerly of human beings) to Kâlî.[416] But on the other hand the growing idea of Bhakti, that is faith or devotion, imported a sentimental element and the worshipper endeavoured to pet, caress and amuse the deity.
The simplest ceremony still practiced today is found in some Śivaite temples. It involves placing leaves on the linga and pouring holy water over it. These rituals, which may trace back to prehistoric stone worship, are generally [174] accompanied by reading a Purâna. However, the most common form of temple ritual treats the image or symbol as if it were a respected human being.[414] The deity is awakened, bathed, dressed, and put to bed at the end of the day. Meals are served to it at the usual times. The food offered is called prasâd (or favor) and is eaten by the faithful. Once or twice a day, the god holds a levee, and during festivals, he is carried in a procession. These ceremonies are particularly characteristic of the worship of Kṛishṇa, whose images receive all the affection usually reserved for a beloved child. They are also practiced in the temples of Śiva and Parvatî, with as many as twenty-two ceremonies performed in a single day at the temple of Bhuvaneshwar in Orissa. It is obvious that the spirit of these rites differs greatly from that which motivates public worship in other modern societies. They are not communal or instructional, although if any devotees are present in the temple during the god's levee, it is customary for them to enter and pay their respects. They do not resemble the magical ceremonies of the Vedic sacrifices either.[415] The waving of lights (arati) before the god and the burning of incense are about the only actions that hint at ecclesiastical ritual. The rest involves treating a symbol or image as if it were a living being capable of enjoying simple physical pleasures. There are two levels to this. We see truly ancient rites, such as anointing or decorating stones and offering food in sacred locations. This category also includes the sacrifice of goats (and once, human beings) to Kâlî.[416] On the other hand, the emerging idea of Bhakti, or devotion, introduced a more sentimental aspect, leading worshippers to try to cuddle, cherish, and entertain the deity.
It is hard to see anything either healthy or artistic in this [175] emotional ritual. The low and foolish character of many temple ceremonies disgusts even appreciative foreigners, but these services are not the whole of Hindu worship. All Hindus perform in the course of the day numerous acts of private devotion varying according to sect, and a pious man is not dependent on the temple like a Catholic on his church. Indian life is largely occupied with these private, intimate, individual observances, hardly noticeable as ceremonies and concerned with such things as dressing, ablution and the preparation of food.
It’s difficult to find anything truly healthy or artistic in this [175] emotional ritual. The low and foolish nature of many temple ceremonies can even turn off appreciative foreigners, but these services aren’t the entirety of Hindu worship. All Hindus engage in many acts of private devotion throughout the day, which vary by sect, and a devout person isn’t reliant on the temple like a Catholic is on their church. Indian life is largely filled with these private, personal, individual practices, which often go unnoticed as ceremonies and revolve around activities like dressing, washing, and preparing food.
The monastic institutions of India seem due to Buddhism. There were wandering monks before the Buddha's time, but the practice of founding establishments where they could reside permanently, originated in his order. There appears to be no record of Hindu (as opposed to Buddhist) monasteries before the time of Śaṅkara in the ninth century, though there must have been places where the learned congregated or where wandering ascetics could lodge. Śaṅkara perceived the advantage of the cenobitic life for organizing religion and founded a number of maṭhs or colleges. Subsequent religious leaders imitated him. At the present day these institutions are common, yet it is clear that the wandering spirit is strong in Hindus and that they do not take to monastic discipline and fixed residence as readily as Tibetans and Burmese. A maṭh is not so much a convent as the abode of a teacher. His pupils frequent it and may become semi-resident: aged pilgrims may make it their last home, but the inmates are not a permanent body following a fixed rule like the monks of a Vihâra. The Sattras of Assam, however, are true monasteries (though even there vows and monastic costume are unknown) and so are the establishments of the Swâminârâyaṇa sect at Ahmedabad and Wartâl.
The monastic institutions of India seem to have emerged from Buddhism. There were wandering monks before the time of the Buddha, but the practice of establishing places for them to live permanently originated with his order. There doesn’t seem to be any record of Hindu (as opposed to Buddhist) monasteries before Śaṅkara in the ninth century, although there must have been spots where learned individuals gathered or where wandering ascetics could stay. Śaṅkara recognized the benefits of communal living for organizing religion and founded several maṭhs or colleges. Later religious leaders followed his example. Nowadays, these institutions are common, but it’s clear that the wandering spirit is strong among Hindus, and they don’t embrace monastic discipline and settled living as easily as Tibetans and Burmese do. A maṭh is less of a convent and more a residence for a teacher. His students visit and may become part-time residents; elderly pilgrims might make it their last home, but the residents are not a permanent group following a set rule like the monks of a Vihâra. However, the Sattras of Assam are true monasteries (even though vows and monastic attire are not common there), as are the establishments of the Swâminârāyaṇa sect in Ahmedabad and Wartâl.
3
The vast and complicated organization of caste is mainly a post-Vedic growth and in the Buddha's time was only in the making.[417] His order was open to all classes alike, but this does not imply that he was adverse to caste, so far as it [176]then prevailed, or denied that men are divided into categories determined by their deeds in other births. But on the whole the influence of Buddhism was unfavourable to caste, especially to the pretensions of the Brahmans, and an extant polemic against caste is ascribed (though doubtfully) to Aśvaghosha.[418] On the other hand, though caste is in its origin the expression of a social rather than of a religious tendency, the whole institution and mechanism have long been supported and exploited by the Brahmans. Few of them would dispute the proposition that a man cannot be a Hindu unless he belongs to a caste. The reason of this support is undisguised, namely, that they are the first and chief caste. They make their own position a matter of religion and claim the power of purifying and rehabilitating those who have lost caste but they do not usually interfere with the rules of other castes or excommunicate those who break them.[419] That is the business of the Pancayat or caste council.
The extensive and complex system of caste primarily developed after the Vedic period and was just beginning to form during the time of Buddha.[417] His teachings welcomed individuals from all classes, but this doesn’t mean he opposed the caste system as it existed then, or denied that people are separated into groups based on their actions in previous lives. Overall, Buddhism had a negative impact on caste, particularly against the claims of the Brahmans, and a surviving critique of caste is attributed (though it's uncertain) to Aśvaghosha.[418] However, while caste originally reflects a social rather than a religious inclination, the whole system has long been upheld and taken advantage of by the Brahmans. Few would argue that one cannot be a Hindu without being part of a caste. The reason for this support is clear: they are the highest and primary caste. They turn their status into a religious matter and claim the ability to purify and restore those who have lost their caste, though they typically do not interfere with the rules of other castes or excommunicate those who violate them.[419] That responsibility falls to the Pancayat or caste council.
Sometimes religion and caste are in opposition, for many modern religious leaders have begun by declaring that among believers there are no social distinctions. This is true not only of teachers whose orthodoxy is dubious, such as Nânak, the founder of the Sikhs, and Basava, the founder of the Lingâyats,[420] but also of Vallabhâcârya and Caitanya. But in nearly all cases caste reasserts itself. The religious teachers of the sect receive extravagant respect and form a body apart. This phenomenon, which recurs in nearly all communities, shows how the Brahmans established their position. At the same time social distinctions make themselves felt among the laity, and those who claim to be of good position dissociate themselves from those of lower birth. The sect ends by observing caste on ordinary occasions, and it is only in some temples (such as that of Jagannath at Puri)[421] that the worshippers mix and eat a sacred meal together. Sometimes, however, the sect which renounces caste becomes [177] itself a caste. Thus, the Sikhs have become almost a nation and other modern castes arising out of sects are the Atiths, who are Śivaites, the Saraks, who appear to have been originally Buddhists, and the Baishnabs (Vaishnavas), a name commonly given in Bengal to those followers of Caitanya who persist in the original rule of disregarding caste regulations within the sect, and hence now form a separate community. But as a rule sect and caste are not co-extensive and the caste is not a religious corporation. Thus the different subdivisions of the Baniyas belong to different sects and even in the same subdivision there is no religious uniformity.[422]
Sometimes religion and caste conflict with each other, as many modern religious leaders have started by stating that among believers, there are no social distinctions. This applies not only to teachers with questionable orthodoxy, like Nânak, the founder of the Sikhs, and Basava, the founder of the Lingâyats,[420] but also to Vallabhâcârya and Caitanya. However, in almost all cases, caste reasserts itself. The religious leaders of the sect receive excessive respect and form a separate group. This trend occurs in nearly all communities and illustrates how the Brahmans established their position. Simultaneously, social distinctions are evident among the laity, where those who consider themselves of high status distance themselves from those of lower birth. The sect ultimately observes caste in everyday situations, and it’s only in some temples (like Jagannath at Puri)[421] that worshippers mix and share a sacred meal together. Sometimes, however, a sect that renounces caste ends up becoming a caste itself. For example, Sikhs have nearly become a nation, and other modern castes emerging from sects include the Atiths, who are Śivaites, the Saraks, who seem to have originally been Buddhists, and the Baishnabs (Vaishnavas), a term commonly used in Bengal for followers of Caitanya who continue to ignore caste regulations within the sect, thus forming a separate community. Generally, though, sect and caste don't completely overlap, and caste is not a religious corporation. For instance, the various subdivisions of the Baniyas belong to different sects, and even within the same subdivision, there is no uniformity in religious practice.[422]
Caste in its later developments is so complex and irregular, that it is impossible to summarize it in a formula or explain it as the development of one principle. In the earliest form known two principles are already in operation. We have first racial distinction. The three upper castes represent the invading Aryans, the fourth the races whom they found in India. In the modern system of caste, race is not a strong factor. Many who claim to be Brahmans and Kshatriyas have no Aryan blood, but still the Aryan element is strongest in the highest castes and decreases as we descend the social scale and also decreases in the higher castes in proportion as we move from the north-west to the east and south. But secondly in the three upper castes the dividing principle, as reported in the earliest accounts, is not race but occupation. We find in most Aryan countries a division into nobles and people, but in India these two classes become three, the priests having been able to assume a prominence unknown elsewhere and to stamp on literature their claim to the highest rank. This claim was probably never admitted in practice so completely as the priests desired. It was certainly disputed in Buddhist times and I have myself heard a young Rajput say that the Brahmans falsified the Epics so as to give themselves the first place.
Caste has evolved to be so complex and irregular that it's impossible to sum it up in a simple formula or explain it as the result of a single principle. In its earliest form, two principles are already at play. First, there's racial distinction. The three upper castes represent the invading Aryans, while the fourth caste consists of the races they encountered in India. In the modern caste system, race isn't a significant factor. Many who identify as Brahmans and Kshatriyas don't have Aryan ancestry, yet the Aryan element is still most prominent in the highest castes and diminishes as we go down the social ladder, also decreasing in the higher castes as we move from the northwest to the east and south. Secondly, in the three upper castes, the defining principle, as noted in the earliest accounts, is not race but occupation. In many Aryan countries, there's a division between nobles and common people, but in India, these two classes expand to three. The priests have managed to achieve a level of prominence not found elsewhere and have asserted their claim to the highest rank in literature. This claim was likely never fully accepted in practice as the priests wished. It was certainly challenged during Buddhist times, and I've even heard a young Rajput assert that the Brahmans altered the Epics to elevate their status.
It is not necessary for our purpose to describe the details of the modern caste system. Its effect on Indian religion has been considerable, for it created the social atmosphere in which the [178] various beliefs grew up and it has furnished the Brahmans with the means of establishing their authority. But many religious reformers preached that in religion caste does not exist—that there is neither Jew nor Gentile in the language of another creed—and though the application of this theory is never complete, the imperfection is the result not of religious opposition but of social pressure. Hindu life is permeated by the instinct that society must be divided into communities having some common interest and refusing to intermarry or eat with other communities. The long list of modern castes hardly bears even a theoretical relation to the four classes of Vedic times.[423] Numerous subdivisions with exclusive rules as to intermarriage and eating have arisen among the Brahmans and the strength of this fissiparous instinct is seen among the Mohammedans who nominally have no caste but yet are divided into groups with much the same restrictions.
It's not necessary for our purpose to go into the details of the modern caste system. Its impact on Indian religion has been significant, as it created the social environment in which various beliefs developed and provided the Brahmins with the means to assert their authority. However, many religious reformers have advocated that in matters of faith, caste doesn't exist—that there's neither Jew nor Gentile in the language of another creed—and while the application of this idea is never fully realized, the imperfection stems not from religious opposition but from social pressure. Hindu life is deeply influenced by the notion that society should be divided into communities with shared interests, refusing to intermarry or eat with other groups. The extensive list of modern castes barely has any real connection to the four classes from Vedic times. Numerous subdivisions with strict rules about intermarriage and dining have emerged among the Brahmins, and this tendency is also evident among Muslims, who technically have no caste but are still divided into groups with similar restrictions.
This remarkable tendency to form exclusive corporations is perhaps correlated with the absence of political life in India. Such ideas as nationality, citizenship, allegiance to a certain prince, patriotic feelings for a certain territory are rarer and vaguer than elsewhere, and yet the Hindu is dependent on his fellows and does not like to stand alone. So finding little satisfaction in the city or state he clings the more tenaciously to smaller corporations. These have no one character: they are not founded on any one logical principle but merely on the need felt by people who have something in common to associate together. Many are based on tribal divisions; some, such as the Marathas and Newars, may be said to be nationalities. In many the bond of union is occupation, in a few it is sectarian religion. We can still observe how members of a caste who migrate from their original residence tend to form an entirely new caste, and how intertribal marriages among the aborigines create new tribes.
This notable tendency to create exclusive groups is probably linked to the lack of political life in India. Concepts like nationality, citizenship, loyalty to a specific ruler, and patriotic feelings for a particular land are less common and more ambiguous here than in other places. Yet, Hindus rely on their peers and prefer not to be isolated. Therefore, when they find little fulfillment in the city or state, they cling even more strongly to smaller groups. These groups don't have a single defining characteristic; they aren't based on one logical principle but are simply formed out of a shared need for people with commonalities to come together. Many are rooted in tribal divisions; some, like the Marathas and Newars, can be considered nationalities. In many cases, the unifying factor is occupation, while in a few, it's sectarian religion. We can still see how members of a caste who move away from their original homes tend to establish a completely new caste, and how intertribal marriages among indigenous peoples create new tribes.
4
Sect[424] must not be confounded with caste. Hindu sects are of many kinds; some, if not militant, are at least exceedingly self-confident. Others are so gentle in stating their views that they might be called schools rather than sects, were the word not too intellectual. The notion that any creed or code can be quod semper, quod ubique, quod ab omnibus, is less prevalent than in Europe and even the Veda, though it is the eternal word, is admitted to exist in several recensions. Hinduism is possible as a creed only to those who select. In its literal sense it means simply all the beliefs and rites recognized in India, too multifarious and inconsistent for the most hospitable and addled brain to hold. But the Hindus, who are as loth to abolish queer beliefs and practices as they are to take animal life, are also the most determined seekers after a satisfying form of religion. Brahmanic ritual and Buddhist monasticism demand the dedication of a life. Not everyone can afford that, but the sect is open to all. It attempts to sort out of the chaos of mythology and superstition something which all can understand and all may find useful. It selects some aspect of Hinduism and makes the best of it. Sects usually start by preaching theism and equality in the sight of God, but in a few generations mythology and social distinctions creep in. Hence though the prevalence of sect is undoubtedly a feature of modern Hinduism it is also intelligible that some observers should assert that most Hindus belong to the same general religion and that only the minority are definitely sectarian. The sectarian tendency is stronger in Vishnuism than in Śivaism. The latter has produced some definite sects, as, for instance, Lingâyats, but is not like Vishnuism split up into a number of Churches each founded by a human teacher and provided by him with a special creed.
Sect[424] should not be confused with caste. Hindu sects come in many varieties; some, though not aggressive, are quite self-assured. Others express their beliefs so gently that they could be called schools instead of sects, if the term weren’t too intellectual. The idea that any belief system can be quod semper, quod ubique, quod ab omnibus is less common than in Europe, and even the Veda, while considered the eternal word, is recognized in various versions. Hinduism can only exist as a belief system for those who choose from it. In its most basic sense, it encompasses all the beliefs and rituals acknowledged in India, which are too diverse and inconsistent for even the most tolerant and confused mind to grasp. However, Hindus are as reluctant to discard strange beliefs and practices as they are to take the life of an animal, and they are also the most committed seekers of a fulfilling form of religion. Brahmanic rituals and Buddhist monastic life require a lifetime commitment. Not everyone can make that sacrifice, but the sect is accessible to all. It aims to distill something understandable and useful from the chaos of mythology and superstition. It focuses on a particular aspect of Hinduism and seeks to maximize its value. Sects typically begin by promoting theism and equality before God, but over a few generations, elements of mythology and social hierarchies tend to reappear. Therefore, while the presence of sects is certainly a characteristic of modern Hinduism, it’s also reasonable for some observers to argue that most Hindus belong to the same general religion, with only a minority being distinctly sectarian. The sectarian inclination is stronger in Vishnuism than in Śivaism. The latter has given rise to some specific sects, such as the Lingâyats, but unlike Vishnuism, it isn’t divided into numerous Churches each established by a human teacher who provides a unique creed.
Most Indian sects are in their origin theistic, that is to say, they take a particular deity and identify him with the Supreme Being. But the pantheistic tendency does not disappear. Popular religion naturally desires a personal deity. But it is significant that the personal deity frequently assumes pantheistic attributes and is declared to be both the world and the [180] human soul. The best known sects arose after Islam had entered India and some of them, such as the Sikhs, show a blending of Hindu and Moslem ideas. But if Mohammedan influence favoured the formation of corporations pledged to worship one particular deity, it acted less by introducing something new than by quickening a line of thought already existing. The Bhagavad-gîtâ is as complete an exposition of sectarian pantheism as any utterances posterior to Mohammedanism.
Most Indian sects originally have a theistic focus, meaning they take a specific deity and identify that deity with the Supreme Being. However, the pantheistic tendency doesn’t go away. Popular religion naturally seeks a personal deity. It’s important to note that this personal deity often takes on pantheistic traits and is described as both the world and the [180] human soul. The well-known sects emerged after Islam entered India, and some, like the Sikhs, reflect a mix of Hindu and Muslim ideas. While Islamic influence helped create groups that worship one specific deity, it mainly did this by energizing existing lines of thought rather than introducing entirely new concepts. The Bhagavad-gîtâ offers a thorough explanation of sectarian pantheism, comparable to any expressions that came after the rise of Islam.
The characteristic doctrine of sectarian Hinduism is bhakti, faith or devotion. The older word śraddhâ, which is found in the Vedas, is less emotional for it means simply belief in the existence of a deity, whereas bhakti can often be rendered by love. It is passionate, self-oblivious devotion to a deity who in return (though many would say there is no bartering) bestows his grace (prasâda or anugraha). St. Augustine in defining faith says: "Quid est credere in Deum? credendo amare, credendo diligere, credendo in eum ire, et ejus membris incorporari."[425] This is an excellent paraphrase of bhakti and the words have an oriental ring which is not quite that of the New Testament. Though the doctrine of bhakti marks the beginning of a new epoch in Hinduism it is not necessary to regard it as an importation or due to Christianity. About the time of the Christian era there was felt in many countries a craving for a gentler and more emotional worship and though the history of Bhaktism is obscure, Indian literature shows plainly how it may be a development of native ideas. Its first great text-book is the Bhagavad-gîtâ, but it is also mentioned in the last verse of the Śvetâśvatara Upanishad and Pâṇini appears to allude to bhakti felt for[426] Vâsudeva. The Kaṭhâ Upanishad[427] contains the following passage:
The key belief of sectarian Hinduism is bhakti, which means faith or devotion. The older term śraddhâ, found in the Vedas, is less emotional as it simply signifies belief in the existence of a deity, while bhakti is often expressed as love. It represents a passionate, self-forgetting devotion to a deity, who, in return (though many would argue there’s no exchange involved), grants his grace (prasâda or anugraha). St. Augustine defines faith as: "What does it mean to believe in God? It means to love, to cherish, to go toward Him, and to become one with His members."[425] This is a great paraphrase of bhakti, and the words have an eastern vibe that isn’t quite like that of the New Testament. While the doctrine of bhakti marks the start of a new era in Hinduism, it’s unnecessary to see it as an import from Christianity. Around the time of the Christian era, many cultures experienced a longing for gentler and more emotional worship, and although the history of Bhaktism is unclear, Indian literature clearly shows how it may stem from local ideas. Its first major text is the Bhagavad-gîtâ, but it’s also referenced in the last verse of the Śvetâśvatara Upanishad, and Pâṇini seems to refer to bhakti directed towards[426] Vâsudeva. The Kaṭhâ Upanishad[427] includes the following passage:
"That Âtman cannot be gained by the Veda, nor by understanding nor by much learning. He whom the Âtman chooses, by him the Âtman can be gained. The Âtman chooses him as his own." Here we have not the idea of faith or love, but we have the negative statement that the Âtman is not won by knowledge and the positive statement that this Âtman chooses [181] his own. In the Ṛig Veda[428] there is a poem put into the mouth of Vac or speech, containing such sentiments as "I give wealth to him who gives sacrifice.... I am that through which one eats, breathes, sees, and hears.... Him that I love I make strong, to be a priest, a seer, a sage." This reads like an ancient preliminary study for the Bhagavad-gîtâ. Like Kṛishṇa the deity claims to be in all and, like him, to reward her votaries. It is true that the "Come unto me" is not distinctly expressed, but it is surely struggling for expression.[429] Again, in the Kaushîtaki Upanishad (III. 1 and 2) Indra says to Pratardana, who had asked him for a boon, "Know me only: that is, what I deem most beneficial to man, that he should know me.... He who meditates on me as life and immortality gains his full life in this world and in heaven immortality." Here the relation of the devotee to the deity is purely intellectual not emotional, but the idea that intellectual devotion directed to a particular deity will be rewarded is clearly present. In the Ṛig Veda this same Indra is called a deliverer and advocate; a friend, a brother and a father; even a father and mother in one. Here the worshipper does not talk of bhakti because he does not analyze his feelings, but clearly these phrases are inspired by affectionate devotion.
"That Âtman can’t be obtained through the Veda, understanding, or extensive learning. The one chosen by the Âtman can gain the Âtman. The Âtman selects him as his own." Here, we don’t have the idea of faith or love, but we do have the negative statement that the Âtman is not attained through knowledge and the positive statement that this Âtman chooses[181] his own. In the Ṛig Veda[428], there’s a poem spoken by Vac or speech, expressing sentiments like "I give wealth to those who make sacrifices.... I am that through which one eats, breathes, sees, and hears.... The one I love, I empower to be a priest, a seer, a sage." This feels like an ancient precursor to the Bhagavad-gîtâ. Like Kṛishṇa, the deity claims to be in everything and, like him, rewards her followers. While the phrase "Come unto me" isn’t explicitly stated, it clearly seeks to be expressed.[429] Again, in the Kaushîtaki Upanishad (III. 1 and 2), Indra tells Pratardana, who asked him for a favor, "Know me only: that is, what I consider most beneficial to humanity is that they should know me.... He who meditates on me as life and immortality gains his complete life in this world and immortality in heaven." Here, the devotee's relationship with the deity is purely intellectual, not emotional, but the idea that intellectual devotion directed at a specific deity will be rewarded is clearly present. In the Ṛig Veda, this same Indra is referred to as a deliverer and advocate; a friend, a brother, and a father; even as both father and mother in one. The worshipper doesn’t mention bhakti because he doesn’t analyze his feelings, but it is evident that these phrases are inspired by affectionate devotion.
Nor is the spirit of bhakti absent from Buddhism. The severe doctrine of the older schools declares that the Buddha is simply a teacher and that every man must save himself. But since the teacher is the source of the knowledge which saves, it is natural to feel for him grateful and affectionate devotion. This sentiment permeates the two books of poems called Thera and Therîgâthâ and sometimes finds clear expression.[430] In the commentary on the Dhammapada[431] the doctrine of salvation by devotion is affirmed in its extreme form, namely that a dying man who has faith in the Buddha will be reborn in heaven. But this commentary is not of early date and the doctrine quoted is probably an instance of the Hinayana borrowing the attractive features of the Mahayana. The sutras about Amitâbha's paradise, which were composed about the time of the Christian era and owe something to Persian though not to Christian [182]influence, preach faith in Amitâbha as the whole of religion. They who believe in him and call on his name will go to heaven.
The spirit of bhakti isn’t absent from Buddhism either. The strict teachings of the earlier schools state that the Buddha is just a teacher and that everyone must save themselves. However, since the teacher provides the knowledge that leads to salvation, it’s only natural to feel grateful and affectionate devotion towards him. This sentiment fills the two collections of poems known as Thera and Therîgâthâ, and it sometimes comes out clearly. In the commentary on the Dhammapada, the idea of salvation through devotion is highlighted in its strongest form, suggesting that a dying person who believes in the Buddha will be reborn in heaven. However, this commentary wasn’t written in the early days, and the teaching mentioned likely reflects the Hinayana adopting appealing aspects of the Mahayana. The sutras about Amitâbha’s paradise, composed around the time of the Christian era and influenced somewhat by Persian thought (but not Christian), teach that faith in Amitâbha is the essence of religion. Those who believe in him and call on his name will reach heaven.
When bhakti was once accepted as a part of Indian religion, it was erected into a principle, analogous or superior to knowledge and was defined in Sûtras[432] similar to those of the Sâṅkhya and Vedânta. But its importance in philosophy is small, whereas its power as an impulse in popular religion has been enormous. To estimate its moral and intellectual value is difficult, for like so much in Hinduism it offers the sharpest contrasts. Its obvious manifestations may seem to be acts of devotion which cannot be commended ethically and belief in puerile stories: yet we find that this offensive trash continually turns into gems of religious thought unsurpassed in the annals of Buddhism and Christianity.
When bhakti was recognized as part of Indian religion, it was established as a principle, comparable to or even greater than knowledge, and was defined in Sûtras[432] similar to those of Sâṅkhya and Vedânta. However, its significance in philosophy is minimal, while its influence as a driving force in popular religion has been immense. Assessing its moral and intellectual value is challenging because, like much in Hinduism, it presents striking contrasts. Its clear expressions may appear to be acts of devotion that lack ethical merit and belief in childish stories; yet, we find that this seemingly worthless material frequently transforms into profound gems of religious thought unmatched in the histories of Buddhism and Christianity.
The doctrine of bhakti is common to both Vishnuites and Śivaites. It is perhaps in general estimation associated with the former more than with the latter, but this is because the Bhagavad-gîtâ and various forms of devotion to Kṛishṇa are well known, whereas the Tamil literature of Dravidian Śivaism is ignored by many European scholars. One might be inclined to suppose that the emotional faith sprang up first in the worship of Vishṇu, for the milder god seems a natural object for love, whereas Śiva has to undergo a certain transformation before he can evoke such feelings. But there is no evidence that this is the historical development of the bhakti sentiment, and if the Bhagavad-gîtâ is emphatic in enjoining the worship of Kṛishṇa only, the Śvetâśvatara and Maitrâyanîya Upanishads favour Śiva, and he is abundantly extolled in many parts of the Mahâbhârata. Here, as so often, exact chronology fails us in the early history of these sects, but it is clear that the practice of worshipping Śiva and Vishṇu, as being each by himself all-sufficient, cannot have begun much later than the Christian era and may have begun considerably earlier, even though people did not call themselves Śaivas or Vaishṇavas.
The idea of bhakti is common to both Vishnu and Shiva followers. It's generally seen as more associated with Vishnu, mainly because the Bhagavad-gita and various forms of devotion to Krishna are widely recognized, while the Tamil literature of Dravidian Shiva worship is overlooked by many European scholars. One might think that emotional faith originated first in worshiping Vishnu since this gentler god seems like a natural object of love, while Shiva requires a certain transformation to invoke such feelings. However, there’s no evidence that this reflects the actual historical development of bhakti sentiment. Although the Bhagavad-gita strongly emphasizes worshiping Krishna exclusively, the Śvetāśvatara and Maitrāyanīya Upanishads support Shiva, and he is praised throughout many sections of the Mahabharata. Here, as often happens, we lack precise chronology in the early history of these sects. Nonetheless, it's clear that the practice of worshiping Shiva and Vishnu, each as fully sufficient by himself, likely began not long after the Christian era and may have started much earlier, even if people didn’t identify themselves as Shaivas or Vaishnavas.
Bhakti is often associated with the doctrine of the playfulness of God. This idea—so strange to Europe[433]—may have its roots partly in the odd non-moral attributes of some early deities. Thus the Rudra of the Śatarudrîya hymn is a queer character and a trickster. But it soon takes a philosophical tinge and is used to explain the creation and working of the universe which is regarded not as an example of capricious, ironical, inscrutable action, but rather as manifesting easy, joyous movement and the exuberant rhythm of a dance executed for its own sake. The European can hardly imagine a sensible person doing anything without an object: he thinks it almost profane to ascribe motiveless action to the Creator: he racks his brain to discover any purpose in creation which is morally worthy and moderately in accord with the facts of experience. But he can find none. The Hindu, on the contrary, argues that God being complete and perfect cannot be actuated by aims or motives, for all such impulses imply a desire to obtain something, whereas a perfect and complete being is one which by its very definition needs neither change nor addition. Therefore, whatever activity is ascribed to the creator must not be thought of as calculating, purposeful endeavour, but as spontaneous, exultant movement, needing and admitting no explanation, and analogous to sport and play rather than to the proceedings of prudent people. This view of the divine activity is expounded by so serious a writer as Śaṅkara in his commentary on the Vedânta Sûtras, and it also finds mythological expression in numerous popular legends. The Tamil Purâṇas describe the sixty-four miracles of Śiva as his amusements: his laughter and joyous movements brighten all things, and the street minstrels sing "He sports in the world. He sports in the soul."[434] He is supposed to dance in the Golden Hall of the temple at Chidambaram and something of the old legends of the Śatarudrîya hangs [184] about such popular titles as the Deceiver and the Maniac (Kalvar) and the stories of his going about disguised and visiting his worshippers in the form of a mendicant. The idea of sport and playfulness is also prominent in Vishnuism. It is a striking feature in the cultus of both the infant and the youthful Kṛishṇa, but I have not found it recorded in the severer worship of Râma.
Bhakti is often linked to the idea of God's playfulness. This concept—quite unusual for Europe[433]—may have origins in the peculiar, non-moral traits of some early deities. For example, Rudra in the Śatarudrîya hymn is a strange figure and a trickster. However, it quickly takes on a philosophical aspect and is used to explain the creation and functioning of the universe, which isn't seen as just random, ironic, or mysterious actions, but rather as demonstrating a smooth, joyful motion and the lively rhythm of a dance done for its own enjoyment. Europeans can hardly imagine a sensible person doing anything without a goal; they feel it’s almost disrespectful to attribute aimless action to the Creator and struggle to find a purpose in creation that fits morally and aligns with experiential facts. Yet, they find none. In contrast, Hindus believe that since God is complete and perfect, He cannot be driven by goals or motives—because any such impulses suggest a desire for something, while a perfect being, by definition, requires neither change nor addition. Therefore, whatever activities are attributed to the creator should not be viewed as calculating, goal-oriented efforts, but rather as spontaneous, joyful movements that don’t require or allow any explanation, comparable to play and sport rather than the actions of careful individuals. This perspective on divine activity is discussed by serious thinkers like Śaṅkara in his commentary on the Vedânta Sûtras and is also expressed through various popular legends. The Tamil Purâṇas depict the sixty-four miracles of Śiva as his pastimes: his laughter and joyful motions illuminate everything, and street musicians sing, "He plays in the world. He plays in the soul."[434] He is said to dance in the Golden Hall of the temple at Chidambaram, and elements of the old legends of the Śatarudrîya linger around popular titles like the Deceiver and the Maniac (Kalvar) and tales of Him disguising Himself and visiting His worshippers as a beggar. The themes of play and sport also stand out in Vishnuism, particularly in the worship of both the infant and the young Kṛishṇa, though I haven't seen it noted in the more serious reverence for Râma.
Another feature of Hindu sects is the extravagant respect paid to Gurus or teachers. The sanctity of the Guru is an old conviction in India. By common consent he is entitled to absolute obedience and offences against him are heinous crimes. But in sectarian literature there appears a new claim, namely, that the Guru in some way is or represents the god whose worship he teaches. If the deity is thought of primarily as a saviour, the Guru is said to deliver from suffering and hell: if he requires surrender and sacrifice, then person and possessions must be dedicated to the Guru. Membership of a sect can be attained only by initiation at the hands of a Guru who can teach a special mantra or formula of which each sect has its own. In some of the more modern sects the Guru need not be a Brahman, but if he cannot be venerated for his caste, the deficiency is compensated by the respect which he receives as a repository of oral teaching. The scriptural basis of many sects is dubious and even when it exists, many of the devout (especially women) have not the inclination or ability to read and therefore take their religion from the lips of the Guru, who thus becomes an oracle and source of truth. In Bengal, the family Guru is a regular institution in respectable castes. In many sects the founder or other prominent saint is described as an incarnation and receives veneration after death.[435]
Another feature of Hindu sects is the extreme respect given to Gurus or teachers. The sanctity of the Guru is a long-standing belief in India. By general agreement, he is entitled to total obedience, and any offenses against him are considered serious crimes. However, sectarian literature introduces a new idea: that the Guru is somehow the embodiment of or represents the god whose worship he promotes. If the deity is seen primarily as a savior, the Guru is believed to free individuals from suffering and hell. If he demands surrender and sacrifice, then both personal and material possessions must be devoted to the Guru. Membership in a sect can only be obtained through initiation by a Guru who can teach a specific mantra or formula unique to each sect. In some of the more modern sects, the Guru doesn't have to be a Brahman; if he isn't respected for his caste, that gap is filled by the reverence he earns as a holder of oral teachings. The scriptural foundation of many sects is questionable, and even when present, many followers (especially women) lack the desire or ability to read, so they rely on the Guru, who becomes an oracle and source of truth. In Bengal, having a family Guru is a common practice in respectable castes. In many sects, the founder or another significant saint is regarded as an incarnation and is venerated after death.[435]
This veneration or deification of the Guru is found in most sects and assumes as extreme a form among the Śaivas as among the Vaishṇavas. The Śaiva Siddhânta teaches that divine instruction can be received only from one who is both god and man, and that the true Guru is an incarnation of Śiva. Thus the works of Mâṇikka-Vâçagar and Umâpati speak of Śiva coming to his devotees in the form of the Guru. In the sects that worship Kṛishṇa the Gurus are frequently called Gosain [185] (Goswami).[436] Sometimes they are members of a particular family, as among the Vallabhâcâryas. In other sects there is no hereditary principle and even a Sudra is eligible as Guru.
This reverence or glorification of the Guru is seen in most sects and reaches as extreme a level among the Śaivas as it does among the Vaishṇavas. The Śaiva Siddhânta teaches that divine guidance can only come from someone who is both god and human, and that the true Guru is an incarnation of Śiva. Thus, the writings of Mâṇikka-Vâçagar and Umâpati describe Śiva appearing to his followers in the form of the Guru. In the sects that worship Kṛishṇa, Gurus are often referred to as Gosain [185] (Goswami).[436] Sometimes they belong to a specific family, as is the case among the Vallabhâcâryas. In other sects, there is no hereditary requirement, and even a Sudra can be a Guru.
One other feature of Sectarian Hinduism must be mentioned. It may be described as Tantrism or, in one of its aspects, as the later Yoga and is a combination of practices and theories which have their roots in the old literature and began to form a connected doctrine at least as early as the eighth century A.D. Some of its principal ideas are as follows: (i) Letters and syllables (and also their written forms and diagrams) have a potent influence both for the human organism and for the universe. This idea is found in the early Upanishads[437] and is fully developed in the later Sectarian Upanishads. (ii) The human organism is a miniature copy of the universe.[438] It contains many lines or channels (nâḍî) along which the nerve force moves and also nervous centres distributed from the hips to the head, (iii) In the lowest centre resides a force identical with the force which creates the universe.[439] When by processes which are partly physical it is roused and made to ascend to the highest centre, emancipation and bliss are obtained. (iv) There is a mysterious connection between the process of cosmic evolution and sound, especially the sacred sound Om.
One other aspect of Sectarian Hinduism should be noted. It can be described as Tantrism or, in one of its forms, as later Yoga, and it consists of a mix of practices and theories rooted in ancient texts that started to take shape as a unified doctrine as early as the eighth century A.D. Some of its main ideas include: (i) Letters and syllables (along with their written forms and diagrams) have a powerful influence on both the human body and the universe. This concept is present in the early Upanishads[437] and is further developed in the later Sectarian Upanishads. (ii) The human body is a miniature version of the universe.[438] It has many lines or channels (nâḍî) through which nerve energy flows and also nerve centers spread from the hips to the head. (iii) In the lowest center lies a force that is identical to the force that creates the universe.[439] When this force is awakened and raised to the highest center through partly physical processes, freedom and bliss are achieved. (iv) There is a mysterious link between the process of cosmic evolution and sound, particularly the sacred sound Om.
These ideas are developed most thoroughly in Śâktist works, but are by no means peculiar to them. They are found in the Pâncarâtra and the later Puranas and have influenced almost all modern sects, although those which are based on emotional devotion are naturally less inclined to favour physical and magical means of obtaining salvation.
These ideas are most fully explored in Śâktist works, but they aren’t exclusive to them. You can also see them in the Pâncarâtra and the later Puranas, and they've impacted nearly all modern sects, even though those that focus on emotional devotion tend to be less supportive of physical and magical methods for achieving salvation.
FOOTNOTES:
I pull you out of the corners,
... but if I could understand What you are, completely and wholly, and everything together "I should understand what God and humanity are."
[404] In the Vedic funeral ceremonies the wife lies down by her dead husband and is called back to the world of the living which points to an earlier form of the rite where she died with him. But even at this period, those who did not follow the Vedic customs may have killed widows with their husbands (see too Ath. Veda, XII. 3), and later, the invaders from Central Asia probably reinforced the usage. The much-abused Tantras forbid it.
[404] In Vedic funeral ceremonies, the wife lies next to her deceased husband and is called back to the living world, which suggests an earlier practice where she would die alongside him. However, even during this time, those who didn’t adhere to Vedic traditions might have killed widows with their husbands (see also Ath. Veda, XII. 3), and later, the invaders from Central Asia likely strengthened this practice. The often-misused Tantras prohibit it.
[405] For the history of the Râmâyaṇa and Mahâbhârata and the dates assignable to the different periods of growth, see Winternitz, Gesch. Ind. Lit. vol. I. p. 403 and p. 439. Also Hopkins' Great Epic of India, p. 397. The two poems had assumed something like their present form in the second and fourth centuries A.D. respectively. These are probably the latest dates for any substantial additions or alterations and there is considerable evidence that poems called Bhârata and Râmâyaṇa were well known early in the Christian era. Thus in Aśvaghosha's Sûtrâlankâra (story XXIV) they are mentioned as warlike poems inculcating unbuddhist views. The Râmâyaṇa is mentioned in the Mahâvibhâshâ and was known to Vasubandhu (J.R.A.S. 1907, p. 99). A Cambojan inscription dating from the first years of the seventh century records arrangements made for the recitation of the Râmâyaṇa, Purâṇa and complete (aśesha) Bhârata, which implies that they were known in India considerably earlier. See Barth, Inscrip. Sanscrites de Cambodge, pp. 29-31. The Mahabharata itself admits that it is the result of gradual growth for in the opening section it says that the Bhârata consists of 8,800 verses, 24,000 verses and 100,000 verses.
[405] For the history of the Râmâyaṇa and Mahâbhârata and the dates assigned to the different periods of development, see Winternitz, Gesch. Ind. Lit. vol. I. p. 403 and p. 439. Also Hopkins' Great Epic of India, p. 397. The two epics took on something resembling their current form in the second and fourth centuries A.D., respectively. These are likely the latest dates for any significant additions or changes, and there is substantial evidence that works called Bhârata and Râmâyaṇa were well-known early in the Christian era. For example, in Aśvaghosha's Sûtrâlankâra (story XXIV), they are referenced as martial poems promoting un-Buddhist ideas. The Râmâyaṇa is mentioned in the Mahâvibhâshâ and was recognized by Vasubandhu (J.R.A.S. 1907, p. 99). A Cambodian inscription from the early seventh century details arrangements for the recitation of the Râmâyaṇa, Purâṇa, and complete (aśesha) Bhârata, suggesting that they were known in India much earlier. See Barth, Inscrip. Sanscrites de Cambodge, pp. 29-31. The Mahabharata itself acknowledges that it is the result of gradual development, as in its opening section, it states that the Bhârata consists of 8,800 verses, 24,000 verses, and 100,000 verses.
[406] Hardy, Indische Religionsgeschichte, p. 101.
[408] It is said that the Agnishtoma was performed in Benares in 1898, and in the last few years I am told that one or two Vedic sacrifices have been offered annually in various parts of southern India. I have myself seen the sites where such sacrifices were offered in 1908-9 in Mysore city and in Chidambaram, and in 1912 at Wei near Poona. The most usual form of sacrifice now-a-days is said to be the Vâjapeya. Much Vedic ritual is still preserved in the domestic life of the Nambathiri and other Brahmans of southern India. See Cochin, Tribes and Castes, and Thurston, Castes and Tribes of southern India.
[408] It's said that the Agnishtoma was held in Benares in 1898, and I've heard that one or two Vedic sacrifices have been conducted annually in various parts of southern India in recent years. I personally visited the spots where such sacrifices took place in 1908-9 in Mysore city and Chidambaram, and in 1912 at Wei near Poona. Nowadays, the Vâjapeya is the most common type of sacrifice. A lot of Vedic rituals are still maintained in the everyday lives of the Nambathiri and other Brahmins in southern India. See Cochin, Tribes and Castes, and Thurston, Castes and Tribes of southern India.
[409] The outline of a stûpa may be due to imitation of houses constructed with curved bamboos as Vincent Smith contends (History of Fine Art, p. 17). But this is compatible with the view that stone buildings with this curved outline had come to be used specially as funeral monuments before Buddhism popularized in India and all Eastern Asia the architectural form called stûpa.
[409] The shape of a stûpa might be based on the design of houses built with curved bamboo, as Vincent Smith argues (History of Fine Art, p. 17). However, this aligns with the idea that stone structures featuring this curved shape were already being used specifically as burial monuments before Buddhism made the stûpa architectural form popular in India and throughout Eastern Asia.
[411] In most temples (at least in southern India) there are two images: the mûla-vigraha which is of stone and fixed in the sanctuary, and the utsava-vigraha which is smaller, made of metal and carried in processions.
[411] In most temples (especially in southern India), there are two images: the mûla-vigraha, which is made of stone and stays in the shrine, and the utsava-vigraha, which is smaller, made of metal, and taken out during processions.
[412] Thus Bhaṭṭâchârya (Hindu Castes and Sects, p. 127) enumerates eleven classes of Brahmans, who "have a very low status on account of their being connected with the great public shrines," and adds that mere residence in a place of pilgrimage for a few generations tends to lower the status of a Brahmanic family.
[412] So, Bhaṭṭâchârya (Hindu Castes and Sects, p. 127) lists eleven types of Brahmans, who "have a very low status because they are associated with the major public shrines," and notes that simply living in a pilgrimage site for a few generations tends to lower the status of a Brahman family.
[413] Thus in Bengal there is a special class, the Barna Brahmans, who perform religious rites for the lower castes, and are divided into six classes according to the castes to whom they minister. Other Brahmans will not eat or intermarry with them or even take water from them.
[413] In Bengal, there's a specific group called the Barna Brahmans, who carry out religious ceremonies for the lower castes and are divided into six categories based on the castes they serve. Other Brahmans refuse to eat with them, marry them, or even accept water from them.
[414] This is extraordinarily like the temple ritual of the ancient Egyptians. For some account of the construction and ritual of south Indian temples see Richards in J. of Mythic Soc. 1919, pp. 158-107.
[414] This is very similar to the temple rituals of the ancient Egyptians. For details on the construction and practices of South Indian temples, see Richards in J. of Mythic Soc. 1919, pp. 158-107.
[415] But Vedic mantras are used in these ceremonies. The libations of water or other liquids are said to be accompanied by the mantras recited at the Soma sacrifice.
[415] But Vedic mantras are used in these ceremonies. The offerings of water or other liquids are said to be accompanied by the mantras chanted during the Soma sacrifice.
[416] At these sacrifices there is no elaborate ritual or suggestion of symbolism. The animal is beheaded and the inference is that Kâlî likes it. Similarly simple is the offering of coco-nuts to Kâlî. The worshipper gives a nut to the pujâri who splits it in two with an axe, spills the milk and hands back half the nut to the worshipper. This is the sort of primitive offering that might be made to an African fetish.
[416] At these sacrifices, there's no complicated ritual or symbolic meaning. The animal is decapitated, and it's implied that Kâlî appreciates this. The offering of coconuts to Kâlî is just as straightforward. The worshipper hands a nut to the pujâri, who splits it in half with an axe, spills the milk inside, and returns half of the nut to the worshipper. This type of basic offering could be seen at an African fetish.
[422] Some (Khandelwals, Dasa Srimalis and Palliwals) include both Jains and Vaishnavas: the Agarwals are mostly Vaishnavas but some of them are Jains and some worship Śiva and Kâlî. Jogendra Nath Bhattacharya, Hindu Castes and Sects, pp. 205 ff.
[422] Some groups (Khandelwals, Dasa Srimalis, and Palliwals) consist of both Jains and Vaishnavas: the Agarwals are mainly Vaishnavas, but some are Jains and others worship Śiva and Kâlî. Jogendra Nath Bhattacharya, Hindu Castes and Sects, pp. 205 ff.
[424] Sampradâya seems to be the ordinary Sanskrit word for sectarian doctrine. It means traditional teaching transmitted from one teacher to another.
[424] Sampradâya appears to be the common Sanskrit term for sectarian doctrine. It refers to the traditional teachings passed down from one teacher to another.
[426] Pâṇini, IV. 3. 95-98.
[428] R.V. X. 125.
[430] E.g. Theragâthâ, 818-841 and 1231-1245.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ For example, Theragâthâ, 818-841 and 1231-1245.
[431] I. 2.
[432] They are called the Śândilya Sûtras and appear to be not older than about the twelfth century A.D., but the tradition which connects them with the School of Śândilya may be just, for the teaching of this sage (Chândog. Up. III. 14) lays stress on will and belief. Râmânuja (Śrîbhâshya, II. 2. 43) refers to Śândilya as the alleged author of the Pâncarâtra. There are other Bhakti sûtras called Nâradiya and ascribed to Nârada, published and translated in The Sacred Books of the Hindus, No. 23. They consist of 84 short aphorisms. Raj. Mitra in his notices of Sanskrit MSS. describes a great number of modern works dealing with Bhakti.
[432] They are known as the Śândilya Sûtras and seem to be from around the twelfth century A.D. However, the tradition linking them to the School of Śândilya might be accurate, as the teachings of this sage (Chândog. Up. III. 14) emphasize will and belief. Râmânuja (Śrîbhâshya, II. 2. 43) mentions Śândilya as the supposed author of the Pâncarâtra. There are additional Bhakti sûtras known as Nâradiya, attributed to Nârada, which were published and translated in The Sacred Books of the Hindus, No. 23. They contain 84 brief aphorisms. Raj. Mitra, in his notes on Sanskrit manuscripts, describes a large number of modern works related to Bhakti.
[433] Yet it is found in Francis Thompson's poem called Any Saint
[433] Yet it is found in Francis Thompson's poem called Any Saint
[435] E.g. Râmânuja, NammâṛVâr, Basava.
[436] Apparently meaning "possessor of cows," and originally a title of the youthful Kṛishṇa. It is also interpreted as meaning Lord of the Vedas or Lord of his own senses.
[436] It seems to mean "owner of cows," and was originally a title for the young Kṛishṇa. It is also understood to mean Lord of the Vedas or Lord of his own senses.
[437] E.g. the beginning of the Chând. Up. about the syllable Om. See too the last section of the Aitareya Âran. The Yoga Upanishads analyse and explain Om and some Vishnuite Upanishads (Nṛisiṃha and Râmatâ-panîya) enlarge on the subject of letters and diagrams.
[437] For example, the beginning of the Chând. Up. discusses the syllable Om. Also, refer to the last section of the Aitareya Âran. The Yoga Upanishads analyze and explain Om, and some Vishnuite Upanishads (Nṛisiṃha and Râmatâ-panîya) elaborate on the topic of letters and diagrams.
[438] The same idea pervades the old literature in a slightly different form. The parts of the sacrifice are constantly identified with parts of the universe or of the human body.
[438] The same concept is present in old literature in a slightly different way. The elements of the sacrifice are consistently linked to parts of the universe or the human body.
[439] The cakras are mentioned in Act V of Mâlatî and Mâdhava written early in the eighth century. The doctrine of the nâḍîs occurs in the older Upanishads (e.g. Chând. and Maitrâyaṇa) in a rudimentary form.
[439] The chakras are referenced in Act V of Mâlatî and Mâdhava written in the early eighth century. The concept of the nāḍīs appears in the older Upanishads (e.g. Chând. and Maitrâyaṇa) in a basic form.
CHAPTER XXVII
THE EVOLUTION OF HINDUISM. BHÂGAVATAS AND PÂŚUPATAS
1
India is a literary country and naturally so great a change as the transformation of the old religion into theistic sects preaching salvation by devotion to a particular deity found expression in a long and copious literature. This literature supplements and supersedes the Vedic treatises but without impairing their theoretical authority, and, since it cannot compare with them in antiquity and has not the same historic interest, it has received little attention from Indianists until the present century. But in spite of its defects it is of the highest importance for an understanding of medieval and contemporary Hinduism. Much of it is avowedly based on the principle that in this degenerate age the Veda is difficult to understand,[440] and that therefore God in His mercy has revealed other texts containing a clear compendium of doctrine. Thus the great Vishnuite doctor Râmânuja states authoritatively "The incontrovertible fact then is as follows: The Lord who is known from the Vedânta texts ... recognising that the Vedas are difficult to fathom by all beings other than himself ... with a view to enable his devotees to grasp the true meaning of the Vedas, himself composed the Pâncarâtra-Sâstra."[441]
India is a country rich in literature, and such a significant shift as the change from ancient religion to theistic sects advocating salvation through devotion to a specific deity has resulted in a vast body of literature. This literature complements and replaces the Vedic texts without diminishing their theoretical authority. However, since it doesn’t match the Vedas in age and lacks the same historical significance, it has received little focus from scholars of Indian studies until this century. Yet, despite its shortcomings, it is crucial for understanding medieval and contemporary Hinduism. Much of it openly acknowledges that in this fallen age, the Vedas are hard to interpret, and therefore, God, in His mercy, has revealed other texts that provide a clear summary of doctrine. This is why the prominent Vishnuite scholar Râmânuja asserts, “The undeniable fact is as follows: The Lord known from the Vedânta texts... realizing that the Vedas are difficult for beings other than Himself to understand... to help His devotees grasp the true essence of the Vedas, composed the Pâncarâtra-Sâstra.”
This later sectarian literature falls into several divisions.
This later sectarian literature can be divided into several categories.
A. Certain episodes of the Mahâbhârata. The most celebrated of these is the Bhagavad-gîtâ, which is probably anterior to the Christian era. Though it is incorporated in the Epic it is frequently spoken of as an independent work. Later and less celebrated but greatly esteemed by Vishnuites is the latter part [187] of book XII, commonly known as Nârâyaṇîya.[442] Both these episodes and others[443] are closely analogous to metrical Upanishads. The Mahâbhârata even styles itself (I. 261) the Veda of Kṛishṇa (Kârshṇa).
A. Certain episodes of the Mahâbhârata. The most famous of these is the Bhagavad-gîtâ, which likely predates the Christian era. Although it’s part of the Epic, it’s often referred to as an independent work. The latter part [187] of book XII, commonly known as Nârâyaṇîya, is less well-known but highly regarded by Vishnuites.[442] Both of these episodes and others[443] are closely similar to metrical Upanishads. The Mahâbhârata even refers to itself (I. 261) as the Veda of Kṛishṇa (Kârshṇa).
The Râmâyaṇa does not contain religious episodes comparable to those mentioned but the story has more than once been re-written in a religious and philosophic form. Of such versions the Adhyâtma-Râmâyaṇa[444] and Yoga-vaśishtḥa-Râmâyaṇa are very popular.
The Râmâyaṇa doesn't include religious stories like those mentioned, but the narrative has been adapted multiple times in a religious and philosophical style. Among these adaptations, the Adhyâtma-Râmâyaṇa[444] and Yoga-vaśishtḥa-Râmâyaṇa are quite popular.
B. Though the Purâṇas[445] are not at all alike, most of them show clear affinity both as literature and as religious thought to the various strata of the Mahâbhârata, and to the Law Books, especially the metrical code of Manu. These all represent a form of orthodoxy which while admitting much that is not found in the Veda is still Brahmanic and traditionalist. The older Purâṇas (e.g. Matsya, Vâyu, Mârkaṇḍeya, Vishṇu), or at least the older parts of them, are the literary expression of that Hindu reaction which gained political power with the accession of the Gupta dynasty. They are less definitely sectarian than later works such as the Nârada and Liṅga Purânas, yet all are more or less sectarian.
B. Although the Purâṇas[445] are quite different from each other, most of them share a clear connection, both in terms of literature and religious ideas, with various aspects of the Mahâbhârata and the Law Books, particularly the metrical code of Manu. These texts represent a type of orthodoxy that, while incorporating many elements not found in the Veda, remains Brahmanic and traditionalist. The older Purâṇas (e.g. Matsya, Vâyu, Mârkaṇḍeya, Vishṇu), or at least their older sections, reflect the Hindu response that gained political influence during the rise of the Gupta dynasty. They are less overtly sectarian than later works like the Nârada and Liṅga Purânas, but all have some level of sectarianism.
The most influential Purâṇa is the Bhâgavata, one of the great scriptures for all sects which worship Kṛishṇa. It is said to have been translated into every language of India and forty versions in Bengali alone are mentioned.[446] It was probably [188] composed in the eighth or ninth century.[447] A free translation of the tenth book into Hindi, called the Prem Sagar or Ocean of Love, is greatly revered in northern India.[448] Other sectarian Purâṇas are frequently read at temple services. Besides the eighteen great Purâṇas there are many others, and in south India at any rate they were sometimes composed in the vernacular, as for instance the Periya Purâṇa (c. 1100 A.D.). These vernacular Purâṇas seem to be collections of strangely fantastic fairy tales.
The most influential Purâṇa is the Bhâgavata, which is one of the major scriptures for all sects that worship Kṛishṇa. It's said to have been translated into every language in India, with forty versions mentioned in Bengali alone.[446] It was likely written in the eighth or ninth century.[447] A popular Hindi translation of the tenth book, known as the Prem Sagar or Ocean of Love, is highly respected in northern India.[448] Other sectarian Purâṇas are often read during temple services. Besides the eighteen main Purâṇas, there are many others, and in southern India at least, they were sometimes written in the local language, such as the Periya Purâṇa (c. 1100 A.D.). These vernacular Purâṇas appear to be collections of strangely imaginative fairy tales.
C. The word Tantra originally meant a manual giving the essentials of a subject but later usage tends to restrict it to works, whether Hindu or Buddhist, inculcating the worship of Śiva's spouse. But there are exceptions to this restriction: the Panca-tantra is a collection of stories and the Lakshmî-tantra is a Vishnuite work.[449]
C. The word Tantra originally referred to a manual that provided the basics of a topic, but over time, it has come to be mostly associated with writings, whether Hindu or Buddhist, that teach the worship of Śiva's wife. However, there are exceptions to this trend: the Panca-tantra is a compilation of stories, and the Lakshmî-tantra is a work related to Vishnu.[449]
The fact is that a whole class of Sanskrit religious literature is described by the titles Tantra, Âgama and Saṃhitâ,[450] which taken in a wide sense are practically synonymous, though usage is inclined to apply the first specially to Śâktist works, the second to Śivaite and the third to Vishnuite. The common character of all these productions is that they do not attempt to combine Vedic rites and ideas with sectarian worship, but boldly state that, since the prescriptions of the Veda are too hard for this age, some generous deity has revealed an easier teaching. This teaching naturally varies in detail, but it usually comprises devotion to some special form of the godhead and also a special ceremonial, which commences with initiation and includes the use of mystic formulæ, letters and diagrams. [189] Tantras, Âgamas and Saṃhitâs all treat of their subject-matter in four divisions[451] the first of which relates to the great problems of philosophy, the second to the discipline necessary for uniting the self and God; the third and fourth to ceremonial.
A whole category of Sanskrit religious texts is referred to as Tantra, Âgama, and Saṃhitâ,[450]. While these terms are mostly synonymous, they're often used in specific ways: Tantra typically refers to Śâktist works, Âgama to Śivaite texts, and Saṃhitâ to Vishnuite literature. The common feature of all these texts is that they don't try to merge Vedic rituals and ideas with sectarian worship; instead, they clearly state that the rules of the Veda are too difficult for this age, so some benevolent deity has revealed a simpler teaching. This teaching varies in specifics, but it usually includes devotion to a particular manifestation of the divine and has a unique set of rituals, starting with initiation and incorporating mystical formulas, letters, and diagrams. [189] Tantras, Âgamas, and Saṃhitâs each cover their topics in four sections[451], the first relating to major philosophical issues, the second to the practices needed to connect the self with God, and the third and fourth to rituals.
These works have another feature in common, namely that they are little known except to those Hindus who use them for religious purposes and are probably not very anxious to see them published. Though they are numerous, few of them have been printed and those few have not been much studied by European scholars. I shall say something more about them below in treating of the various sects. Some are of respectable antiquity but it is also clear that modern texts pass under ancient names. The Pâncarâtram and Pâśupatam which are Vishnuite and Śivaite Saṃhitâs are mentioned in the Mahâbhârata, and some extant Vishnuite Saṃhitâs were perhaps composed in the fourth century A.D.[452] Râmânuja as quoted above states that the Pâncarâtra-śâstra (apparently the same as the Pâncarâtra-tantra which he also mentions) was composed by Vâsudeva himself and also cites as scripture the Śâttvata, Paushkara and Parama Saṃhitâs. In the same context he speaks of the Mahâbhârata as Bhârata-Saṃhitâ and the whole passage is interesting as being a statement by a high authority of the reasons for accepting a non-Vedic work like the Pâncarâtra as revealed scripture.
These works have another common feature: they are mostly unknown except to those Hindus who use them for religious purposes and likely aren't very eager to have them published. Although there are many, few have been printed, and those few haven't been extensively studied by European scholars. I'll discuss them further below while covering the various sects. Some have respectable antiquity, but it's also clear that modern texts are passed off under ancient names. The Pâncarâtram and Pâśupatam, which are Vishnuite and Śivaite scriptures, are mentioned in the Mahâbhârata, and some existing Vishnuite scriptures may have been composed in the fourth century A.D.[452] Râmânuja, as noted above, claims that the Pâncarâtra-śâstra (which seems to be the same as the Pâncarâtra-tantra he mentions) was composed by Vâsudeva himself, and he also cites the Śâttvata, Paushkara, and Parama scriptures as authoritative. In the same context, he refers to the Mahâbhârata as Bhârata-Saṃhitâ, and this entire passage is noteworthy because it reflects a high authority's reasons for accepting a non-Vedic work like the Pâncarâtra as revealed scripture.
As already indicated European usage makes the words Tantra, Tantrism and tantric refer to the worship of goddesses. It would be better to describe this literature and worship as Sâktism and to use Tantrism for a tendency in doctrine and ceremonial which otherwise has no special name. I have been informed by Tamil Pandits that at the present day the ritual in some temples is smârta or according to Smriti, but in the majority according to the Âgamas or tantric. The former which is followed by many well-known shrines (for instance in Benares and in the great temples of south India) conforms [190] to the precepts of the Purâṇas, especially on festival days. The officiants require no special initiation and burnt offerings are presented. But the Âgamic ritual can be performed only by priests who have received initiation, burnt offerings rarely form part of the ceremony and vernacular hymns are freely used.[453]
As mentioned earlier, European usage associates the terms Tantra, Tantrism, and tantric with the worship of goddesses. It would be more accurate to refer to this literature and worship as Sâktism and to use the term Tantrism for a doctrinal and ceremonial tendency that doesn’t have a specific name. Tamil Pandits have informed me that today, the rituals in some temples follow smârta practices or those according to Smriti, but in most cases, they follow the Âgamas or tantric traditions. The former, practiced in many well-known temples (like those in Benares and the major temples of South India), aligns with the teachings of the Purâṇas, especially during festivals. The officiants don't require special initiation, and burnt offerings are made. However, the Âgamic ritual can only be carried out by priests who have been initiated, burnt offerings are rarely included in the ceremony, and local hymns are commonly used.[190]
Such hymns however as well as processions and other forms of worship which appeal directly to the religious emotions are certainly not tantric. Tantrism is a species of religious magic, differing from the Vedic sacrifices in method rather than principle.[454] For all that, it sets aside the old rites and announces itself as the new dispensation for this age. Among its principal features are the following. The Tantras are a scripture for all, and lay little stress on caste: the texts and the ritual which they teach can be understood only after initiation and with the aid of a teacher: the ritual consists largely in the correct use of spells, magical or sacramental syllables and letters, diagrams and gestures: its object is less to beseech than to compel the god to come to the worshipper: another object is to unite the worshipper to the god and in fact transform him into the god: man is a microcosm corresponding to the macrocosm or universe: the spheres and currents of the universe are copied in miniature in the human body and the same powers rule the same parts in the greater and the lesser scheme. Such ideas are widely disseminated in almost all modern sects,[455] though without [191] forming their essential doctrine, but I must repeat that to say all sects are tantric does not mean that they are all Śâktist. But Śâktist sects are fundamentally and thoroughly tantric in their theory and practice.
However, hymns, processions, and other forms of worship that directly connect to religious emotions are definitely not tantric. Tantrism is a type of religious magic that changes from Vedic sacrifices in method rather than principle.[454] That said, it discards the old rituals and presents itself as the new way for this age. Its main features include the following: The Tantras are a scripture accessible to all, with little emphasis on caste; the texts and rituals they teach can only be fully grasped after initiation and with the guidance of a teacher; the rituals mainly involve the proper use of spells, magical or sacramental syllables, letters, diagrams, and gestures; their aim is less about begging the god to approach the worshipper and more about compelling the god to do so; another goal is to unite the worshipper with the god, effectively transforming the worshipper into the god; humans are seen as a microcosm that corresponds to the macrocosm or universe; the spheres and currents of the universe are reflected in miniature within the human body, and the same powers govern the same aspects in both the greater and the smaller systems. These ideas are widespread in nearly all modern sects,[455] though they do not form the core doctrine of these sects. However, I must emphasize that saying all sects are tantric doesn’t mean they are all Śâktist. But Śâktist sects are fundamentally and completely tantric in their theory and practice.
D. Besides the Sanskrit books mentioned above numerous vernacular works, especially collections of hymns, are accepted as authoritative by various sects, and almost every language has scriptures of its own. In the south two Tamil hymnals, the Devaram of the Śivaites and Nâlâyira Prabandham of the Vishnuites, are recited in temples and are boldly stated to be revelations equivalent to the Veda. In northern India may be mentioned the Hindi Ramayana of Tulsi Das, which is almost universally venerated, the Bhaktamâlâ of Nâbhâ Das,[456] the Sur-sagar of Surdas and the Prem Sagar. In Assam the Nam Gosha of Madhab Deb is honoured with the same homage as a sacred image. The awkwardness of admitting direct inspiration in late times is avoided by the theory of spiritual descent, that is to say of doctrinal transmission from teacher to teacher, the divine revelation having been made to the original teacher at a discreetly remote epoch.
D. In addition to the Sanskrit texts mentioned earlier, there are many vernacular works, especially collections of hymns, that various sects consider authoritative, and almost every language has its own scriptures. In the south, two Tamil hymnals, the Devaram of the Śivaites and the Nālayira Prabandham of the Vishnuites, are recited in temples and are confidently said to be revelations on par with the Veda. In northern India, we can mention the Hindi Ramayana by Tulsi Das, which is widely revered, the Bhaktamālā by Nābhā Das,[456] the Sur-sagar by Surdas, and the Prem Sagar. In Assam, the Nam Gosha by Madhab Deb receives the same respect as a sacred image. The difficulty of accepting direct inspiration in more recent times is sidestepped by the theory of spiritual descent, meaning the transmission of teachings from teacher to teacher, with the divine revelation having been delivered to the original teacher at a suitably distant time.
2
In considering the evolution of modern Hinduism out of the old Vedic religion, three of the many factors responsible for this huge and complicated result deserve special attention. The first is the unusual intensity and prevalence of the religious temperament. This has a double effect, both conservative and alterative: ancient customs receive an unreasonable respect: they are not abolished for their immorality or absurdity; but since real interest implies some measure of constructive power, there is a constant growth of new ideas and reinterpretations resulting in inconsistent combinations. The second is the absence of hierarchy and discipline. The guiding principle of the Brahmans has always been not so much that they have a particular creed to enforce, as that whatever is the creed of India they must be its ministers. Naturally every priest is the champion of his own god or rite, and such zeal may lead to occasional conflicts. But [192] though the antithesis between the ritualism of the older Brahmanism and the faith or philosophy of Śivaism and Vishnuism may remind us of the differences between the Catholic Church and Protestant reformers, yet historically there is no resemblance in the development of the antithesis. To some extent Hinduism showed a united front against Buddhism, but the older Brahmanism had no organization which enabled it to stand as a separate Church in opposition to movements which it disliked. The third factor is the deeply rooted idea, which reappears at frequent intervals from the time of the Upanishads until to-day, that rules and rites and even creeds are somehow part of the lower and temporal order of things which the soul should transcend and leave behind. This idea tinges the whole of Indian philosophy and continually crops up in practice. The founder of a strange sect who declares that nothing is necessary but faith in a particular deity and that all ceremonies and caste observances are superfluous is not in the popular esteem a subverter of Hinduism.
In looking at how modern Hinduism evolved from the ancient Vedic religion, three of the many factors that contributed to this vast and complex transformation stand out. The first is the remarkable intensity and prevalence of religious sentiment. This has a dual effect, both conservative and transformative: ancient customs are held in excessive reverence; they aren’t discarded due to their immorality or absurdity; however, since genuine interest implies some level of constructive influence, there is a constant emergence of new ideas and reinterpretations that lead to inconsistent combinations. The second is the lack of hierarchy and discipline. The guiding principle of the Brahmans has always been less about enforcing a specific creed and more about being the ministers of whatever creed exists in India. Naturally, every priest champions his own deity or ritual, and this enthusiasm can sometimes lead to conflicts. But [192] while the contrast between the ritualistic practices of older Brahmanism and the beliefs or philosophies of Śivaism and Vishnuism may remind us of the differences between the Catholic Church and Protestant reformers, historically, the development of this contrast is not similar. To some extent, Hinduism presented a united front against Buddhism, but older Brahmanism lacked an organization strong enough to act as a separate Church opposing movements it found unfavorable. The third factor is the deeply ingrained idea, which reappears regularly from the time of the Upanishads to today, that rules, rituals, and even creeds are somehow part of a lower, temporal order that the soul should rise above and leave behind. This idea influences all of Indian philosophy and continually appears in practice. A founder of a unique sect who claims that only belief in a specific deity is necessary and that all ceremonies and caste rituals are unnecessary is not generally seen as undermining Hinduism in popular view.
The history of both Śivaism and Vishnuism illustrates these features. Śiva begins as a wild deity of non-moral attributes. As the religious sense develops he is not rejected like the less reputable deities of the Jews and Arabs but remains and collects round himself other strange wild ideas which in time are made philosophical but not ethical. The rites of the new religion are, if not antagonistic, at least alternative to the ancient sacrifices, yet far from being forbidden they are performed by Brahmans and modern Indian writers describe Śiva as peculiarly the Brahman's god. Finally the Śivaite schools of the Tamil country reject in successive stages the grosser and more formal elements until there remains nothing but an ecstatic and mystical monotheism. Similarly among the Vishnuites Kṛishṇa is the centre of legends which have even less of conventional morality. Yet out of them arises a doctrine that the love of God is the one thing needful so similar to Christian teaching that many have supposed it must be borrowed.
The history of both Śivaism and Vishnuism highlights these aspects. Śiva starts out as a wild deity without moral attributes. As religious understanding evolves, he isn’t dismissed like the less reputable deities of the Jews and Arabs but continues to exist and gathers around him other strange wild ideas that eventually become philosophical but not ethical. The practices of the new religion are, if not opposed, at least an alternative to the ancient sacrifices, and rather than being forbidden, they are carried out by Brahmans. Modern Indian writers describe Śiva as particularly the god of the Brahmans. Ultimately, the Śivaite schools in Tamil Nadu progressively discard the coarser and more formal elements until only an ecstatic and mystical monotheism remains. Similarly, within the Vishnuism, Kṛishṇa is the focal point of legends that lack conventional morality. Yet from these, a doctrine emerges that the love of God is the only essential thing, so similar to Christian teaching that many have thought it must be borrowed.
The first clear accounts of the worship of Śiva and Vishṇu are contained in the epics and indicate the existence of sectarian religion, that is to say of exclusive devotion to one or other deity. But there is also a tendency to find a place for both, a tendency which culminates in the composite deity [193] Śaṅkara Nârâyaṇa already mentioned. Many of the Purâṇas[457] reflect this view and praise the two deities impartially. The Mahâbhârata not unfrequently does the same but the general impression left by this poem is that the various parts of which it consists have been composed or revised in a sectarian spirit. The body of the work is a narrative of exploits in which the hero Kṛishṇa plays a great part but revised so as to make him appear often as a deity and sometimes as the Supreme Spirit. But much of the didactic matter which has been added, particularly books XII and XIII, breathes an equally distinct Śivaite spirit and in the parts where Kṛishṇa is treated as a mere hero, the principal god appears to be not Vishṇu but Śiva.
The first clear accounts of the worship of Śiva and Vishṇu are found in the epics and show that sectarian religion exists, meaning exclusive devotion to one deity or the other. However, there's also a tendency to honor both, which reaches its peak in the combined deity [193] Śaṅkara Nârâyaṇa mentioned earlier. Many of the Purâṇas[457] reflect this perspective and praise both deities equally. The Mahâbhârata often does the same, but the overall impression left by this poem is that the various sections have been created or edited with a sectarian bias. The main narrative focuses on the exploits of the hero Kṛishṇa, who is often presented as a deity and sometimes as the Supreme Spirit. However, much of the added didactic content, especially in books XII and XIII, clearly expresses a Śivaite spirit, and in sections where Kṛishṇa is treated merely as a hero, the main god seems to be Śiva, not Vishṇu.
The Mahabharata and Puranas contain legends which, though obscure, refer to conflicts of the worshippers of Śiva with those who offered Vedic sacrifices as well as with the votaries of Vishṇu, and to a subsequent reconciliation and blending of the various cults. Among these is the well-known story of Daksha's sacrifice to which Śiva was not invited. Enraged at the omission he violently breaks up the sacrifice either in person or through a being whom he creates for the purpose, assaults the officiants and the gods who are present, and is pacified by receiving a share. Similarly we hear[458] that he once seized a victim at a sacrifice and that the gods in fear allotted to him the choicest portion of the offerings. These stories indicate that at one time Brahmans did not countenance his worship and he is even represented as saying to his wife that according to rule (dharmataḥ) he has no share in the sacrifice.[459] Possibly human victims were immolated in his honour, as they were in Kâlî's until recently, for in the Mahabharata[460] it is related how Kṛishṇa expostulated with Jarâsandha who [194] proposed to offer to Śiva a sacrifice of captive kings. In the Vishṇu-Purâṇa, Kṛishṇa fights with Śiva and burns Benares. But by the time that the Mahabharata was put together these quarrels were not in an acute stage. In several passages[461] Kṛishṇa is made to worship Śiva as the Supreme Spirit and in others[462] vice versa Śiva celebrates the glory of Kṛishṇa. Vishnuites do not disbelieve in Śiva but they regard him as a god of this world, whereas their own deity is cosmic and universal. Many Vishnuite works[463] are said to be revealed by Śiva who acts as an intermediary between us and higher spheres.
The Mahabharata and Puranas contain legends that, while unclear, relate to the conflicts between the followers of Śiva and those who performed Vedic sacrifices, as well as with the devotees of Vishṇu, and the eventual reconciliation and merging of these different cults. One well-known story is about Daksha's sacrifice, which Śiva was not invited to. Furious about being left out, he disrupts the sacrifice, either by intervening himself or through a being he creates for that purpose, attacking the officiants and the gods present, and is then calmed by being given a portion of the offerings. Similarly, there’s an account[458] of how he once took a victim during a sacrifice, and out of fear, the gods granted him the best part of the offerings. These stories suggest that at one point, Brahmans did not approve of his worship, and he even tells his wife that according to the rules (dharmataḥ), he has no right to a share of the sacrifice.[459] It’s possible that human sacrifices were made in his honor, as has been done for Kâlî until recently, because in the Mahabharata[460], it tells how Kṛishṇa reproached Jarâsandha, who wanted to sacrifice captive kings to Śiva. In the Vishṇu-Purâṇa, Kṛishṇa battles Śiva and burns Benares. However, by the time the Mahabharata was compiled, these conflicts were not as intense. In several passages[461], Kṛishṇa is shown worshipping Śiva as the Supreme Spirit, and in others[462], Śiva praises the greatness of Kṛishṇa. Followers of Vishṇu do not reject Śiva; they see him as a god of this world, while their own deity is cosmic and universal. Many Vishnuite texts[463] are said to be revealed by Śiva, who acts as a mediator between us and higher realms.
3
In the following sections I shall endeavour to relate the beginnings of sectarianism. The sects which are now most important are relatively modern and arose in the twelfth century or later, but the sectarian spirit can be traced back several centuries before our era. By sectarians I mean worshippers of Śiva or Vishṇu who were neither in complete sympathy with the ancient Brahmanism nor yet excommunicated by it and who had new texts and rites to replace or at least supplement the Vedas and the Vedic sacrifices. It is probable that the different types of early Indian religion had originally different geographical spheres. Brahmanism flourished in what we call the United Provinces: Buddhism arose in the regions to the east of this district and both Vishnuism and Śivaism are first heard of in the west.
In the following sections, I will attempt to describe the origins of sectarianism. The most significant sects today are relatively modern, emerging in the twelfth century or later, but the sectarian spirit dates back several centuries before our era. By sectarians, I mean followers of Śiva or Vishṇu who were not entirely aligned with traditional Brahmanism nor completely excluded by it, and who had new texts and rituals to replace or at least supplement the Vedas and the Vedic sacrifices. It’s likely that the various forms of early Indian religion originally had different geographical regions. Brahmanism thrived in what we now call the United Provinces; Buddhism developed in the areas to the east, while both Vishnuism and Śivaism are first noted in the west.
The earliest sect of which we have any record is that of the Bhâgavatas, who were or became Vishnuite. At a date which it is impossible to fix but considerably before the epoch of Pâṇini, a tribe named the Yâdavas occupied the country between Muttra and the shores of Gujarat. Sects of this tribe were called Vṛishṇi and Sâttvata. The latter name has passed into theology. Kṛishṇa belonged to this sect and it is probable that this name Vâsudeva was not originally a patronymic but the name of a deity worshipped by it. The hero Kṛishṇa was identified with this god and subsequently when the Brahmans wished to bring this powerful sect within the pale of orthodoxy [195] both were identified with Vishṇu. In the Mahabharata[464] the rule or ritual (vidhi) of the Sâttvatas is treated as equivalent to that of the Bhâgavatas and a work called the Sâttvata Saṃhitâ is still extant. Bhâgavata appears to be the most general name of the sect or sects and means simply of the Lord (Bhâgavat), that is worshippers of the one Lord.[465] Their religion is also called Ekântika dharma, or the religion with one object, that is monotheism.[466]
The earliest group we have any record of is the Bhâgavatas, who were or became followers of Vishnu. At a time that’s hard to pinpoint but well before Pâṇini, a tribe called the Yâdavas lived in the area between Muttra and the coastline of Gujarat. Some members of this tribe were referred to as Vṛishṇi and Sâttvata. The latter name has been adopted in theological contexts. Kṛishṇa was part of this sect, and it’s likely that the name Vâsudeva was originally the name of a deity worshipped by them rather than a family name. The hero Kṛishṇa was associated with this god, and later, when the Brahmans wanted to bring this influential sect into the fold of orthodoxy, both were linked to Vishnu. In the Mahabharata, the practices (vidhi) of the Sâttvatas are equated with those of the Bhâgavatas, and a text called the Sâttvata Saṃhitâ is still available today. Bhâgavata seems to be the most commonly used name for the sect or sects and simply means "of the Lord" (Bhâgavat), referring to worshippers of the one Lord. Their faith is also known as Ekântika dharma, or the religion focused on one object, which means monotheism.
A considerable literature grew up in this school and the principal treatise is often spoken of as Pâncarâtra because it was revealed by Nârâyaṇa during five nights.[467] The name however appears to be strictly speaking applicable to a system or body of doctrine and the usual term for the books in which this system is expounded is Saṃhitâ. All previous discussions and speculations about these works, of which little was known until recently, are superseded by Schrader's publication of the Ahirbudhnya Saṃhitâ, which appears to be representative of its class.[468] The names of over two hundred are cited and of these more than thirty are known to be extant in MS.[469] The majority were composed in north-western India but the Pâncarâtra doctrine spread to the Dravidian countries and new Saṃhitâs were produced there, the chief of which, the Îśvara Saṃhitâ, can hardly be later than 800 A.D.[470] Of the older works Schrader [196] thinks that the Ahirbudhnya was written in Kashmir[471] between 300 and 800 A.D. and perhaps as early as the fourth century. It mentions the Śâttvata and Jayâkhya, which must therefore be older.
A significant amount of literature developed in this school, and the main treatise is often referred to as Pâncarâtra because it was revealed by Nârâyaṇa over five nights.[467] However, the name seems to refer specifically to a system or set of doctrines, and the common term for the texts that explain this system is Saṃhitâ. All previous discussions and theories about these works, which were not well understood until recently, have been surpassed by Schrader's release of the Ahirbudhnya Saṃhitâ, which appears to represent its category.[468] Over two hundred names are mentioned, and more than thirty of these are known to still exist in manuscript form.[469] Most were created in northwestern India, but the Pâncarâtra doctrine spread to the Dravidian regions, where new Saṃhitâs were produced, the most important of which, the Îśvara Saṃhitâ, is likely not later than 800 A.D.[470] Regarding the older works, Schrader [196] believes that the Ahirbudhnya was written in Kashmir[471] between 300 and 800 A.D., possibly as early as the fourth century. It mentions the Śâttvata and Jayâkhya, which must, therefore, be older.
The most remarkable feature of this literature is its elaborate doctrine of evolution and emanation from the Deity, the world process being conceived in the usual Hindu fashion as an alternation of production and destruction. A distinction is drawn between pure and gross creation. What we commonly call the Universe is bounded by the shell of the cosmic egg and there are innumerable such eggs, each with its own heavens and its own tutelary deities such as Brahmâ and Śiva who are sharply distinguished from Vishṇu. But beyond this multitude of worlds are more mysterious and spiritual spheres, the highest heaven or Vaikuṇṭha wherein dwells God in his highest form (Para) with his Śaktis,[472] certain archangels and liberated souls. Evolution commences when at the end of the cosmic night the Śakti of Vishṇu[473] is differentiated from her Lord and assumes the two forms of Force and Matter.[474] He as differentiated from her is Vâsudeva a personal deity with six attributes[475] and is the first emanation, or Vyûha, of the ineffable godhead. From him proceeds Sankarshaṇa, from Sankarshaṇa Pradyumna, and from Pradyumna Aniruddha. These three Vyûhas take part in creation but also correspond to or preside over certain aspects of human personality, namely Sankarshaṇa to the soul that animates all beings, Pradyumna to intelligence and Aniruddha to individuality. Strange to say these seem to be the names of distinguished personages in the Śâttvata or Vṛishṇi clan.[476] Mere deification occurs in many countries but the transformation of heroes into metaphysical or psychological terms could hardly have happened outside India. Next to the Vyûhas [197] come twelve sub-Vyûhas, among whom is Nârâyaṇa,[477] and thirty-nine Avatâras. All these beings are outside the cosmic eggs and our gross creation. As a prelude to this last there takes place the evolution of the aggregates or sources from which individual souls and matter are drawn, of space and of time, and finally of the elements, the process as described seeming to follow an older form of the Sânkhya philosophy than that known to us. The task of human souls is to attain liberation, but though the language of the Saṃhitâs is not entirely consistent, the older view is that they become like to God, not that they are absorbed in him.[478]
The most remarkable aspect of this literature is its detailed doctrine of evolution and emanation from the Deity, with the world process understood in the typical Hindu way as a cycle of creation and destruction. There's a distinction made between pure and gross creation. What we generally refer to as the Universe is enclosed by the boundary of the cosmic egg, and there are countless such eggs, each having its own heavens and protective deities like Brahmâ and Śiva, who are clearly different from Vishṇu. Beyond this multitude of worlds are even more enigmatic and spiritual realms, the highest heaven or Vaikuṇṭha, where God exists in his highest form (Para) alongside his Śaktis,[472] certain archangels, and liberated souls. Evolution begins when, at the end of the cosmic night, Vishṇu's Śakti[473] separates from her Lord and takes on the two forms of Force and Matter.[474] He, distinct from her, is Vâsudeva, a personal deity with six attributes[475] and is the first emanation, or Vyûha, of the indescribable godhead. From him comes Sankarshaṇa, from Sankarshaṇa Pradyumna, and from Pradyumna Aniruddha. These three Vyûhas are involved in creation but also relate to or oversee specific aspects of human personality: Sankarshaṇa relates to the soul that animates all beings, Pradyumna to intelligence, and Aniruddha to individuality. Interestingly, these also seem to be the names of notable figures in the Śâttvata or Vṛishṇi clan.[476] Simple deification happens in many cultures, but the transformation of heroes into metaphysical or psychological concepts could hardly have taken place outside India. Following the Vyûhas [197] are twelve sub-Vyûhas, including Nârâyaṇa,[477] and thirty-nine Avatâras. All these beings exist outside the cosmic eggs and our gross creation. Before this last stage, the evolution of the aggregates or sources from which individual souls and matter are created, as well as of space and time, and finally of the elements takes place; the described process seems to align more closely with an older version of Sânkhya philosophy than what we recognize today. The aim of human souls is to achieve liberation, and although the terminology of the Saṃhitâs isn't completely consistent, the traditional view is that they become like God, rather than being absorbed into him.[478]
Thus it is not incorrect to say that the Bhâgavata religion is monotheistic and recognizes a creator of souls. Indeed Śankara[479] condemns it on the very ground that it makes individual souls originate from Vâsudeva, in which case since they have an origin they must also have an end. But Râmânuja in replying to this criticism seems to depart from the older view, for he says that the Supreme Being voluntarily abides in four forms which include the soul, mind and the principle of individuality. This, if not Pantheism, is very different from European monotheism.[480]
Thus, it’s accurate to say that the Bhâgavata religion is monotheistic and acknowledges a creator of souls. In fact, Śankara[479] criticizes it on the basis that it claims individual souls come from Vâsudeva, which implies that since they have a beginning, they must also have an end. However, Râmânuja, in response to this criticism, seems to move away from the older perspective, as he states that the Supreme Being voluntarily exists in four forms, which encompass the soul, mind, and principle of individuality. This, if not Pantheism, is quite different from European monotheism.[480]
The history of these Bhâgavatas, Pâncarâtras or worshippers of Vishṇu must have begun several centuries before our era, for there are allusions to them in Pâṇini and the Niddesa.[481] The names of Vâsudeva and Sankarshaṇa occur in old inscriptions[482] and the Greek Heliodoros calls himself a Bhâgavata on the column found at Besnagar and supposed to date from the first part of the second century B.C.
The history of these Bhâgavatas, Pâncarâtras, or worshippers of Vishṇu must have started several centuries before our era, as there are references to them in Pâṇini and the Niddesa.[481] The names Vâsudeva and Sankarshaṇa appear in ancient inscriptions[482] and the Greek Heliodoros identifies himself as a Bhâgavata on the column found at Besnagar, which is believed to date from the early part of the second century B.C.
The Pâncarâtra was not Brahmanic in origin[483] and the form [198] of the Sânkhya philosophy from which it borrowed was also un-Brahmanic. It seems to have grown up in north-western India in the centuries when Iranian influence was strong and may owe to Zoroastrianism the doctrine of the Vyûhas which finds a parallel in the relation of Ahura Mazda to Spenta Mainyu, his Holy Spirit, and in the Fravashis. It is also remarkable that God is credited with six attributes comparable with the six Amesha Spentas. In other ways the Pâncarâtra seems to have some connection with late Buddhism. Though it lays little stress on the worship of goddesses, yet all the Vyûhas and Avatâras are provided with Śaktis, like the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas of tantric Buddhism, and in the period of quiescence which follows on the dissolution of the Universe Vishṇu is described under the name of Śûnya or the void. It attaches great importance to the Cakra, the wheel or discus which denotes Vishṇu's will to be,[484] to evolve and maintain the universe, and it may have contributed some ideas to the very late form of Buddhism called Kâlacakra. This very word is used in the Ahirbudhnya Saṃhitâ as the name of one of the many wheels engaged in the work of evolution.
The Pâncarâtra didn't originate from Brahmanic traditions[483] and the version [198] of Sânkhya philosophy that it drew from was also non-Brahmanic. It appears to have developed in north-western India during a time when Iranian influence was significant and may have borrowed the concept of Vyûhas from Zoroastrianism, which parallels the relationship of Ahura Mazda to Spenta Mainyu, his Holy Spirit, and the Fravashis. It's noteworthy that God is described with six attributes that resemble the six Amesha Spentas. Additionally, the Pâncarâtra seems to have some ties to later Buddhism. While it doesn't emphasize the worship of goddesses much, all the Vyûhas and Avatâras are associated with Śaktis, similar to the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas in tantric Buddhism. In the period of stillness after the Universe dissolves, Vishṇu is referred to as Śûnya or the void. The text places significant importance on the Cakra, the wheel or discus that symbolizes Vishṇu's will to exist,[484] to develop and sustain the universe, and it may have influenced the very late form of Buddhism known as Kâlacakra. This exact term is used in the Ahirbudhnya Saṃhitâ as the name for one of the many wheels involved in the process of evolution.
Though the Pâncarâtra is connected with Kṛishṇa in its origin, it gives no prominence to devotion to him under that name as do modern sects and it knows nothing of the pastoral Kṛishṇa.[485] It recommends the worship of the four Vyûhas[486] presiding over the four quarters in much the same way that late Buddhism adores the four Jinas depicted in somewhat similar forms. Similarly the Śivaites say that Śiva has five faces, namely Îśâna or Sadâśiva (the highest, undifferentiated form of the deity) at the top and below Vâmadeva, Aghora, Tatpurusha, and Sadyojâta, presiding respectively over the north, south, east and west. It is thus clear that in the early centuries of our era (or perhaps even before it) there was a tendency in Vishnuism, Śivaism and Mahayanist Buddhism alike to represent the ineffable godhead as manifested in four aspects somewhat more intelligible to human minds and producing in their turn many inferior manifestations. Possibly the [199]theory originated among the Vishnuites,[487] but as often happened in India it was adopted by their opponents. None of these theories are of much importance as living beliefs at the present day but their influence can be seen in iconography.
Though the Pâncarâtra is linked to Kṛishṇa in its origins, it doesn't emphasize devotion to him by that name like modern sects do, nor does it recognize the pastoral Kṛishṇa.[485] Instead, it promotes the worship of the four Vyûhas[486] overseeing the four directions, similar to how later Buddhism reveres the four Jinas depicted in comparable forms. Likewise, Śivaites assert that Śiva has five faces: Îśâna or Sadâśiva (the highest, undifferentiated form of the deity) at the top, and below him Vâmadeva, Aghora, Tatpurusha, and Sadyojâta, each presiding over the north, south, east, and west, respectively. This indicates that in the early centuries of our era (or maybe even earlier), there was a trend in Vishnuism, Śivaism, and Mahayanist Buddhism to portray the ineffable godhead as manifested in four aspects that are somewhat more understandable to human minds, which in turn produced many lesser manifestations. The [199]theory may have originated among the Vishnuites,[487] but, as often happened in India, it was embraced by their opponents. None of these theories hold much significance as living beliefs today, but their influence can still be seen in iconography.
As a sect the Pâncarâtras seem to have been a subdivision of the Bhâgavatas and probably at the present day many Vishnuites would accept the second name but not the first. The Pâncarâtra is studied at only a few places in southern India but its doctrines permeate the popular work called Bhaktamâlâ and in view of the express approbation of Râmânuja and other authorities it can hardly be repudiated by the Śrî-Vaishṇavas. Bhâgavata is sometimes used in the south as a name for Smârtas who practise Vedic rites and worship both Śiva and Vishnu.[488]
As a group, the Pâncarâtras seem to have been a branch of the Bhâgavatas, and today many followers of Vishnu would likely accept the second name but not the first. The Pâncarâtra is studied in only a few places in southern India, but its teachings influence the popular work called Bhaktamâlâ, and given the clear approval from Râmânuja and other authorities, it can hardly be rejected by the Śrî-Vaishṇavas. In the south, the term Bhâgavata is sometimes used to refer to Smârtas who perform Vedic rituals and worship both Śiva and Vishnu.[488]
4
In these early times there were strenuous theological struggles now forgotten, though they have left their traces in the legends which tell how the title of Kṛishṇa and others to divine honours was challenged. Amalgamation was the usual method of conciliation. Several gods grew sufficiently important to become in the eyes of their worshippers the supreme spirit and at least four were united in the deity of the Bhâgavatas, namely, Vâsudeva, Kṛishṇa, Vishṇu and Nârâyaṇa. Of the first three I have spoken already. Nârâyaṇa never became like Vishṇu and Kṛishṇa a great mythological figure, but in the late Vedic period he is a personification of the primæval waters from which all things sprang or of the spirit which moved in them.[489] From this he easily became the supreme spirit who animates all the universe and the name was probably acceptable to those who desired a purer and simpler worship because it was connected with comparatively few legends. But there is some confusion in its use, for it is applied not only to the supreme being but to a double incarnation of him called Nara-Nârâyaṇa, and images of the pair may still be seen in Vishnuite temples. [200] They are said to have revealed the true doctrine to Nârada and are invoked at the beginning of each book of the Mahâbhârata.[490] One of the main theses of the Nârâyaṇîya[491] is the identity of Nârâyaṇa and Vâsudeva, the former being a Brahmanic, the latter a non-Brahmanic name for the Deity.
In those early days, there were intense theological debates that are now forgotten, though they left their mark in the legends about how Kṛishṇa and others were challenged for their divine status. Amalgamation was the common way to resolve these conflicts. Several gods became significant enough in the eyes of their followers to be regarded as the supreme spirit, with at least four merging into the Bhâgavatas' deity: Vâsudeva, Kṛishṇa, Vishṇu, and Nârâyaṇa. I've already mentioned the first three. Nârâyaṇa didn't become a major mythological figure like Vishṇu and Kṛishṇa, but during the later Vedic period, he represented the primordial waters from which everything emerged or the spirit that moved within them.[489] This allowed him to easily be seen as the supreme spirit that animates the entire universe. The name likely appealed to those looking for a purer and simpler form of worship due to its connection with fewer legends. However, there is some confusion in its application, as it refers not only to the supreme being but also to a dual incarnation known as Nara-Nârâyaṇa, with images of the pair still visible in Vishnuite temples. [200] They are said to have revealed the true doctrine to Nârada and are invoked at the beginning of each book of the Mahâbhârata.[490] One of the key ideas of the Nârâyaṇîya[491] is the identification of Nârâyaṇa and Vâsudeva, with the former being a Brahmanic name and the latter a non-Brahmanic name for the Deity.
The celebrated Bhagavad-gîtâ[492] which is still held in such respect that, like the New Testament or Koran, it is used in law courts for the administration of oaths, is an early scripture of the Bhâgavata sect. In it the doctrines of Kṛishṇa's divinity, the power of faith and the efficacy of grace are fully established. It is declared to be too hard for flesh and blood to find by meditation their way to the eternal imperceptible spirit, whereas Kṛishṇa comes straightway to those who make him their sole desire. "Set thy heart on me, become my devotee, sacrifice to me and worship thou me. Then shalt thou come to me. Truly I declare to thee thou art dear to me. Leave all (other) religious duties and come to me as thy sole refuge. I will deliver thee from thy sins. Sorrow not." But the evolution of Saṅkarshaṇa, etc., is not mentioned. The poem has perhaps been re-edited [201] and interpolated several times but the strata can hardly be distinguished, for the whole work, if not exactly paradoxical, is eclectic and continually argues that what is apparently highest is not best for a particular person. The Hindus generally regard the contemplative life as the highest, but the Bhagavad-gîtâ is insistent in enjoining unselfish action: it admits that the supreme reality cannot be grasped by the mind or expressed in speech, but it recommends the worship of a personal deity. Even the older parts of the poem appear to be considerably later than Buddhism. But its mythology, if not Vedic, is also hardly Puranic and it knows nothing of the legends about the pastoral Kṛishṇa. It presupposes the Sâṅkhya and Yoga, though in what stage of development it is hard to say, and in many respects its style resembles the later Upanishads. I should suppose that it assumed its present form about the time of the Christian era, rather before than after, and I do not think it owes anything to direct Christian influence. In its original form it may have been considerably older.
The famous Bhagavad-gītā[492] is so respected that, like the New Testament or Quran, it's used in courts for oaths. It’s an early scripture of the Bhāgavata sect. It fully establishes the teachings of Kṛishṇa’s divinity, the power of faith, and the effectiveness of grace. It states that it's too challenging for people to find their way to the eternal, unseen spirit through meditation, while Kṛishṇa comes directly to those who make him their only desire. "Focus your heart on me, be my devotee, offer sacrifices to me, and worship me. Then you will come to me. I truly say to you that you are dear to me. Leave all other religious duties and come to me as your only refuge. I will free you from your sins. Don’t worry." However, the evolution of Saṅkarshaṇa and others is not mentioned. The poem may have been edited[201] and revised several times, but it’s hard to tell the different layers apart, as the entire work, while not exactly contradictory, is eclectic and constantly argues that what seems highest isn't necessarily best for everyone. Generally, Hindus see the contemplative life as the highest, but the Bhagavad-gītā strongly emphasizes selfless action: it acknowledges that the ultimate reality cannot be understood by the mind or expressed in words, yet encourages the worship of a personal deity. Even the older sections of the poem seem to be significantly later than Buddhism. While its mythology isn't Vedic, it's also not quite Puranic, and it doesn't recognize the stories about the pastoral Kṛishṇa. It assumes knowledge of Sāṅkhya and Yoga, though it’s hard to determine its stage of development, and in many ways its style is similar to the later Upanishads. I would suggest it took on its current form around the time of the Christian era, likely before rather than after, and I don’t believe it has a direct Christian influence. In its original form, it could have been much older.
The Bhagavad-gîtâ identifies Kṛishṇa with Vâsudeva and with Vishṇu but does not mention Nârâyaṇa and from its general style I should imagine the Nârâyaṇiya to be a later poem. If so, the evolution of Bhâgavata theology will be that Kṛishṇa, a great hero in a tribe lying outside the sphere of Brahmanism, is first identified with Vâsudeva, the god of that tribe, and then both of them with Vishṇu. At this stage the Bhagavad-gîtâ was composed. A later current of speculation added Nârâyaṇa to the already complex figure, and a still later one, not accepted by all sects, brought the pastoral and amorous legends of Kṛishṇa. Thus the history of the Bhâgavatas illustrates the Indian disposition to combine gods and to see in each of them only an aspect of the one. But until a later period the types of divinity known as Vishṇu and Śiva resisted combination. The worshippers of Śiva have in all periods shown less inclination than the Vishnuites to form distinct and separate bodies and the earliest Śivaite sect of which we know anything, the Pâśupatas,[493] arose slightly later than the Bhâgavatas.
The Bhagavad-gîtâ connects Kṛishṇa with Vâsudeva and Vishṇu, but it doesn’t mention Nârâyaṇa, which makes me think that the Nârâyaṇiya is a later poem. If that’s the case, the development of Bhâgavata theology goes like this: Kṛishṇa, a significant hero from a tribe outside the area of Brahmanism, is initially linked with Vâsudeva, the god of that tribe, and then both are associated with Vishṇu. This was the context when the Bhagavad-gîtâ was written. Later ideas introduced Nârâyaṇa into the already intricate figure, and even later, but not universally accepted, came the pastoral and romantic legends of Kṛishṇa. Thus, the history of the Bhâgavatas showcases the Indian tendency to merge deities and view each as just an aspect of the one. However, until a later time, the divine forms known as Vishṇu and Śiva resisted merging. Worshippers of Śiva historically showed less willingness than the Vishnuites to form distinct and separate groups, and the earliest Śivaite sect we know of, the Pâśupatas,[493] emerged slightly after the Bhâgavatas.
5
Patañjali the grammarian (c. 150 B.C.) mentions devotees of Śiva[494] and also images of Śiva and Skanda. There is thus no reason to doubt that worshippers of Śiva were recognized as a sect from at least 200 B.C. onwards. Further it seems probable that the founder or an early teacher of the sect was an ascetic called Lakulin or Lakulîśa, the club-bearer. The Vâyu Purâṇa[495] makes Śiva say that he will enter an unowned corpse and become incarnate in this form at Kâyârohana, which has been identified with Kârvân in Baroda. Now the Vâyu is believed to be the oldest of the Purâṇas, and it is probable that this Lakulin whom it mentions lived before rather than after our era and was especially connected with the Pâśupata sect. This word is derived from Paśupati, the Lord of cattle, an old title of Rudra afterwards explained to mean the Lord of human souls. In the Sâṅtiparvan[496] five systems of knowledge are mentioned. Sâṅkhya, Yoga, the Vedas, Pâśupatam and Pâncarâtram, promulgated respectively by Kapila, Hiraṇyagarbha, Apântaratamas, Śiva the Lord of spirits and son of Brahmâ, and "The Lord (Bhagavân) himself." The author of these verses, who evidently supported the Pâncarâtra, considered that these five names represented the chief existing or permissible varieties of religious thought. The omission of the Vedânta is remarkable but perhaps it is included under Veda. Hence we may conclude that when this passage was written (that is probably before 400 A.D. and perhaps about the beginning of our era) there were two popular religions ranking in public [203] esteem with the philosophic and ritual doctrines of the Brahmans. The Mahâbhârata contains a hymn[497] which praises Śiva under 1008 names and is not without resemblance to the Bhagavad-gîtâ. It contains a larger number of strange epithets, but Śiva is also extolled as the All-God, who asks for devotion and grants grace. At the close of the hymn Śiva says that he has introduced the Pâśupata religion which partly contradicts and partly agrees with the institutions of caste and the Âśramas, but is blamed by fools.[498]
Patañjali the grammarian (around 150 B.C.) mentions followers of Śiva[494] and also references images of Śiva and Skanda. Therefore, there's no reason to doubt that worshippers of Śiva were recognized as a sect from at least 200 B.C. onwards. It also seems likely that the founder or an early teacher of the sect was an ascetic named Lakulin or Lakulîśa, the club-bearer. The Vâyu Purâṇa[495] states that Śiva said he would enter an unowned corpse and incarnate in this form at Kâyârohana, identified with Kârvân in Baroda. The Vâyu is believed to be the oldest of the Purâṇas, and it’s likely that this Lakulin mentioned lived before our era rather than after it and was especially linked to the Pâśupata sect. This term comes from Paśupati, the Lord of cattle, an old title for Rudra, which was later interpreted as the Lord of human souls. In the Sâṅtiparvan[496], five systems of knowledge are mentioned: Sâṅkhya, Yoga, the Vedas, Pâśupatam, and Pâncarâtram, promoted respectively by Kapila, Hiraṇyagarbha, Apântaratamas, Śiva the Lord of spirits and son of Brahmâ, and "The Lord (Bhagavân) himself." The author of these verses, who clearly supported the Pâncarâtra, viewed these five names as the main existing or permissible branches of religious thought. The absence of the Vedânta is notable, but it might be included under Veda. Thus, we can conclude that when this passage was written (likely before 400 A.D. and perhaps around the beginning of our era), there were two popular religions held in public [203] regard alongside the philosophical and ritual doctrines of the Brahmans. The Mahâbhârata contains a hymn[497] that praises Śiva using 1008 names and bears similarities to the Bhagavad-gîtâ. It includes a greater variety of unusual epithets, but Śiva is also celebrated as the All-God, who seeks devotion and grants grace. At the end of the hymn, Śiva states that he has introduced the Pâśupata religion, which both contradicts and aligns with the customs of caste and the Âśramas, but is criticized by the foolish.[498]
These last words hint that the Pâśupatas laid themselves open to criticism by their extravagant practices, such as strange sounds and gestures.[499] But in such matters they were outdone by other sects called Kâpâlikas or Kâlâmukhas. These carried skulls and ate the flesh of corpses, and were the fore-runners of the filthy Aghoris, who were frequent in northern India especially near Mount Abu and Girnar a century ago and perhaps are not yet quite extinct. The biographers of Śankara[500] represent him as contending with these demoniac fanatics not merely with the weapons of controversy but as urging the princes who favoured him to exterminate them.
These last words suggest that the Pâśupatas opened themselves to criticism through their extreme practices, like bizarre sounds and gestures.[499] But other sects, known as Kâpâlikas or Kâlâmukhas, went even further. They carried skulls and consumed human flesh, and they were the forerunners of the filthy Aghoris, who were prevalent in northern India, particularly near Mount Abu and Girnar, about a century ago, and may still exist today. The biographers of Śankara[500] depict him as confronting these demonic fanatics not only through debate but also by urging the princes who supported him to eliminate them.
Hindu authorities treat the Pâśupatas as distinct from the Śaivas, or Śivaites, and the distinction was kept up in Camboja in the fourteenth century. The Śaivas appear to be simply worshippers of Śiva, who practice a sane ritual. In different parts of India they have peculiarities of their own but whereas the Vaishṇavas have split up into many sects each revering its own founder and his teaching, the Śaivas, if not a united body, present few well-marked divisions. Such as exist I shall notice below in their geographical or historical connection.[501] Most of them accept a system of theology or philosophy[502] which starts [204]with three principles, all without beginning or end. These are Pati or the Lord, that is Śiva: Paśu, or the individual soul: Pâśa or the fetter, that is matter or Karma.[503] The task of the soul is to get free of its fetters and attain to the state of Śiva. But this final deliverance is not quite the same as the identity with Brahman taught by the Vedânta: the soul becomes a Śiva, equal to the deity in power and knowledge but still dependent on him rather than identical with him.[504]
Hindu authorities see the Pâśupatas as distinct from the Śaivas or Śivaites, and this distinction was maintained in Cambodia in the fourteenth century. The Śaivas seem to be simply devotees of Śiva who follow a reasonable ritual. In different regions of India, they have their own unique practices, but while the Vaishṇavas have divided into many sects, each honoring its own founder and teachings, the Śaivas, although not a unified group, have few significant divisions. I will mention any existing divisions below in relation to their geography or history. Most of them follow a system of theology or philosophy that begins with three principles, all of which have no beginning or end. These are Pati, or the Lord, meaning Śiva; Paśu, or the individual soul; and Pâśa, or the fetter, which represents matter or Karma. The aim of the soul is to break free from its fetters and reach the state of Śiva. However, this ultimate liberation isn't exactly the same as the unity with Brahman taught by Vedanta: the soul becomes a Śiva, equal to the deity in power and knowledge but still dependent on him rather than being identical with him.
Peculiar to Śaiva theology is the doctrine of the five kañcukas[505] or envelopes which limit the soul. Spirit in itself is free: it is timeless and knows no restrictions of space, enjoyment, knowledge and power. But when spirit is contracted to individual experience, it can apprehend the universe only as a series of changes in time and place: its enjoyment, knowledge and power are cramped and curtailed by the limits of personality. The terminology of the Śaivas is original but the theory appears to be an elaboration of the Pâncarâtra thesis that the soul is surrounded by the sheath of Mâyâ.
Peculiar to Śaiva theology is the idea of the five kañcukas[505] or coverings that restrict the soul. Spirit on its own is free: it's timeless and has no limitations of space, enjoyment, knowledge, or power. However, when spirit is narrowed down to individual experience, it can only perceive the universe as a series of changes in time and space: its enjoyment, knowledge, and power are constrained by the limits of personality. The terms used by the Śaivas are original, but the theory seems to be an elaboration of the Pâncarâtra idea that the soul is enveloped by the sheath of Mâyâ.
The early literature of the worshippers of Śiva (corresponding to the Saṃhitâs of the Pâncarâtras) appears to have consisted of twenty-eight works composed in Sanskrit and called Âgamas.[506] There is fairly good evidence for their antiquity. Tirumular, one of the earliest Tamil poets who is believed to have lived in the first centuries of our era, speaks of them with enthusiasm and the Buddhist Sanskrit works [205] called Âgamas (corresponding to the Pali Nikâyas) cannot be later than that period. It is highly probable that the same word was in use among both Hindus and Buddhists at the same time. And since the Mahâbhârata mentions the Pâśupatam, there is no difficulty in supposing that expositions of Śivaite doctrine were current in the first century A.D. or even B.C. But unless more texts of the Âgamas come to light the question of their age has little practical importance, for it is said by native scholars that of the twenty-eight primary books there survive only fragments of twenty, which treat of ritual, besides the verses which form the text expounded at length in the Śivañânabotham.[507] There are also said to be 120 Upâgamas of which only two or three have been preserved entire. Of these two have been printed in part, the Mṛigendra and Paushkara.[508] The former is cited in the Sarva-darśana-saṅgraha (about 1330) but does not show any signs of great antiquity. It is thus clear that the Âgamas are not much studied by modern Śivaites but it is unhesitatingly stated that they are a revelation direct from Śiva and equal to the Veda[509] and this affirmation is important, even though the texts so praised are little known, for it testifies to the general feeling that there are other revelations than the Veda. But the Vedas, and the Vedânta Sûtras are not ignored. The latter are read in the light of Nîlakanṭḥa's[510] commentary which is considered by south Indian Pandits to be prior to Śankara.
The early writings of those who worship Śiva (similar to the Saṃhitâs of the Pâncarâtras) seem to have included twenty-eight works written in Sanskrit and referred to as Âgamas.[506] There is reasonable evidence that these texts are ancient. Tirumular, one of the earliest Tamil poets believed to have lived in the first few centuries CE, talks about them with excitement, and the Buddhist Sanskrit works [205] called Âgamas (which correspond to the Pali Nikâyas) cannot be from a later time. It’s very likely that both Hindus and Buddhists used the same term around the same time. Additionally, since the Mahâbhârata mentions the Pâśupatam, it's reasonable to believe that discussions of Śivaite doctrine were present in the first century CE or even BCE. However, unless more Âgama texts are discovered, the issue of their age isn't very significant, as native scholars say that of the twenty-eight primary books, only fragments of twenty remain, which deal with rituals, along with the verses that make up the text elaborated in the Śivañânabotham.[507] It’s also said there are 120 Upâgamas, but only two or three are entirely preserved. Of these, two have been partially published: the Mṛigendra and Paushkara.[508] The former is referenced in the Sarva-darśana-saṅgraha (around 1330), but it does not appear to be very old. Therefore, it's evident that the Âgamas aren't widely studied by modern Śivaites, but it is confidently claimed that they are a direct revelation from Śiva and hold equal status to the Veda[509], and this claim is significant, even though these highly regarded texts are not well known, as it suggests a widespread belief in other revelations beyond the Veda. However, the Vedas and the Vedânta Sûtras are not overlooked. The latter are studied through the lens of Nîlakanṭha’s[510] commentary, which is regarded by South Indian Pandits as predating Śankara.
FOOTNOTES:
[440] An attempt was made to adapt the Veda to modern ideas by composing new Upanishads. The inspiration of such works is not denied but they have not the same influence as the literature mentioned below.
[440] Efforts were made to update the Veda to fit with modern ideas by writing new Upanishads. While the inspiration behind these works is acknowledged, they don’t have the same impact as the literature mentioned below.
[441] Śri Bhâshya, II. 2. 43. So too the Vishṇu Purâṇa, I. 1 describes itself as equal in sanctity to the Vedas. Śankara on Brah. Sûtras, I. 3. 33 says that the Purâṇas are authoritative.
[441] The Śri Bhâshya, II. 2. 43. Likewise, the Vishṇu Purâṇa, I. 1 states that it holds the same sacred status as the Vedas. Śankara on the Brah. Sûtras, I. 3. 33 emphasizes that the Purâṇas are considered authoritative.
[444] Forming part of the Brahmâṇḍa Purâṇa.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Part of the Brahmâṇḍa Purâṇa.
[445] See for a summary of them Winternitz, Gesch. Ind. Lit. I. pp. 450-483. For the dates see Pargiter Dynasties of the Kali age. He holds that the historical portions of the older Purânas were compiled in Prakrit about 250 A.D. and re-edited in Sanskrit about 350. See also Vincent Smith, Early History, p. 21 and, against Pargiter, Keith in J.R.A.S. 1914, p. 1021. Alberuni (who wrote in 1030) mentions eighteen Purânas and gives two lists of them. Bâṇa (c. 620 A.D.) mentions the recitation of the Vâyu Purâṇa. The commentary on the Śvetâśvatara Upan. ascribed to Śaṇkara quotes the Brahma P., Linga P. and Vishṇu P. as authorities as well as Puranic texts described as Vishṇudharma and Śivadharmottara. But the authorship of this commentary is doubtful. The Puranic literature as we know it probably began with the Gupta dynasty or a century before it, but the word Purâṇa in the sense of an ancient legend which ought to be learnt occurs as early as the Śatapatha Brâhmaṇa (XI. 5. 6. 8) and even in A.V. XI. 7. 24.
[445] For a summary of them, see Winternitz, Gesch. Ind. Lit. I. pp. 450-483. For the dates, refer to Pargiter's Dynasties of the Kali age. He argues that the historical sections of the older Purânas were compiled in Prakrit around 250 A.D. and then re-edited in Sanskrit around 350. Also, see Vincent Smith, Early History, p. 21, and against Pargiter, Keith in J.R.A.S. 1914, p. 1021. Alberuni, who wrote in 1030, mentions eighteen Purânas and provides two lists of them. Bâṇa (circa 620 A.D.) refers to the recitation of the Vâyu Purâṇa. The commentary on the Śvetâśvatara Upan., attributed to Śaṇkara, cites the Brahma P., Linga P., and Vishṇu P. as authorities, as well as Puranic texts described as Vishṇudharma and Śivadharmottara. However, the authorship of this commentary is questionable. The Puranic literature as we know it likely began with the Gupta dynasty or a century before it, but the term Purâṇa, meaning an ancient legend that should be taught, appears as early as the Śatapatha Brâhmaṇa (XI. 5. 6. 8) and even in A.V. XI. 7. 24.
[447] Pargiter, l.c. pp. xvii, xxviii. It does not belong to the latest class of Purâṇas for it seems to contemplate the performance of Smârta rites not temple ceremonial, but it is not quoted by Râmânuja (twelfth century) though he cites the Vishṇu Purâṇa. Probably he disapproved of it.
[447] Pargiter, l.c. pp. xvii, xxviii. It doesn't belong to the most recent group of Purâṇas because it appears to focus on the performance of Smârta rituals rather than temple ceremonies, but it isn't referenced by Râmânuja (twelfth century) even though he mentions the Vishnu Purâṇa. He likely disapproved of it.
[448] It was made as late as 1803 by Lallû Jî Lâl, but is a rendering into Hindi of a version in the Braj dialect, probably made in the sixteenth century.
[448] It was created as recently as 1803 by Lallû Jî Lâl, but it’s a translation into Hindi of a version in the Braj dialect, likely made in the sixteenth century.
[449] Another Vishnuite work is cited indifferently as Padma-tantra or Padma-samhîtâ, and the Bhâgavata Purâṇa (I. 3. 8) speaks of the Sâttvatam Tantram, which is apparently the Sâttvata-saṃhitâ. The work edited by Schrader is described as the Ahirbudhnya Saṃhitâ of the Pâncarâtra Âgama.
[449] Another work related to Vishnu is referred to as either the Padma-tantra or Padma-samhītā, and the Bhāgavata Purāṇa (I. 3. 8) mentions the Sāttvatam Tantram, which seems to be the Sāttvata-saṃhitā. The edition by Schrader is described as the Ahirbudhnya Saṃhitā of the Pāñcarātra Āgama.
[450] See for some notices of these works A. Avalon's various publications about Tantra. Srinivasa Iyengar, Outlines of Indian Philosophy, 118-191. Govïndacarya Svâmi on the Vaishnava Samhitâs, J.R.A.S. 1911, pp. 935 ff. Schomerus, Çaiva-Siddhânta, pp. 7 ff. and Schrader's Introduction to the Pâncarâtra. Whereas these works claim to be independent of the Veda, the Sectarian Upanishads (see vol. I. p. 76) are an attempt to connect post-Vedic sects with the Veda.
[450] For information on these works, refer to A. Avalon's various publications on Tantra. Srinivasa Iyengar, Outlines of Indian Philosophy, 118-191. Govïndacarya Svâmi on the Vaishnava Samhitâs, J.R.A.S. 1911, pp. 935 ff. Schomerus, Çaiva-Siddhânta, pp. 7 ff. and Schrader's Introduction to the Pâncarâtra. While these works claim to be independent of the Veda, the Sectarian Upanishads (see vol. I. p. 76) attempt to link post-Vedic sects with the Veda.
[452] See Schrader, Introd. to the Pâncarâtra, p. 98. In the Raghuvaṃsa, X. 27. Âgamas are not only mentioned but said to be extremely numerous. But in such passages it is hard to say whether Âgama means the books now so-called or merely tradition. Alberuni seems not to have known of this literature and a Tantra for him is merely a minor treatise on astronomy. He evidently regards the Vedas, Purâṇas, philosophical Darśanas and Epics as constituting the religious literature of India.
[452] See Schrader, Introd. to the Pâncarâtra, p. 98. In the Raghuvaṃsa, X. 27, Âgamas are not only mentioned but also said to be very numerous. However, in these passages, it's difficult to determine whether Âgama refers to the texts currently called by that name or just to tradition. Alberuni seems unfamiliar with this body of literature; for him, a Tantra is simply a minor treatise on astronomy. He clearly views the Vedas, Purâṇas, philosophical Darśanas, and Epics as representing the religious literature of India.
[453] Râjagopala Chariar (Vaishnavite Reformers, p. 4) says that in Vishnu temples two rituals are used called Pâncarâtra and Vaikhânasa. The latter is apparently consistent with Smârta usage whereas the Pâncarâtra is not. From Gopinâtha Rao's Elements of Hindu Iconography, pp. 56, 77, 78 it appears that there is a Vaikhânasâgama parallel to the Pâncarâtrâgama. It is frequently quoted by this author, though as yet unpublished. It seems to be the ritual of those Bhâgavatas who worship both Śiva and Vishṇu. It is said to exist in two recensions, prose and metrical, of which the former is perhaps the oldest of the Vaishṇava Âgamas. The Vaikhânasa ritual was once followed at Śrîrangam but Râmânuja substituted the Pâncarâtra for it.
[453] Râjagopala Chariar (Vaishnavite Reformers, p. 4) states that in Vishnu temples, two rituals are practiced called Pâncarâtra and Vaikhânasa. The Vaikhânasa seems to align with Smârta customs, while the Pâncarâtra does not. According to Gopinâtha Rao's Elements of Hindu Iconography, pp. 56, 77, 78, there is a Vaikhânasâgama that parallels the Pâncarâtrâgama. This author frequently references it, although it has not been published yet. It appears to be the ritual of those Bhâgavatas who venerate both Śiva and Vishṇu. It supposedly exists in two forms, prose and metrical, with the prose version likely being the oldest of the Vaishṇava Âgamas. The Vaikhânasa ritual was formerly practiced at Śrîrangam, but Râmânuja replaced it with the Pâncarâtra.
[454] Avalon, Principles of Tantra, p. xxvii describes it as "that development of the Vaidika Karmakâṇḍa which under the name of the Tantra Shâstra is the scripture of the Kali age." This seems to me a correct statement of the tantric theory.
[454] Avalon, Principles of Tantra, p. xxvii describes it as "the evolution of the Vaidika Karmakâṇḍa which, under the term Tantra Shâstra, serves as the scripture for the Kali age." I believe this is an accurate representation of the tantric theory.
[455] Thus the Gautamîya Tantra which is held in high estimation by Vishnuite householders in Bengal, though not by ascetics, is a complete application of Śâkta worship to the cult of Kṛishṇa. The Vârâhi Tantra is also Vishnuite. See Raj. Mitra, Sanskrit MSS. of Bikaner, p. 583 and Notices of Sk. MSS. III. (1876), p. 99, and I. cclxxxvii. See too the usages of the Nambuthiri Brahmans as described in Cochin Tribes and Castes, II. pp. 229-233. In many ways the Nambuthiris preserve the ancient Vedic practices.
[455] The Gautamîya Tantra, which is highly regarded by Vishnuite families in Bengal but not by ascetics, is a complete integration of Śâkta worship into the Kṛishṇa cult. The Vârâhi Tantra is also Vishnuite. See Raj. Mitra, Sanskrit MSS. of Bikaner, p. 583 and Notices of Sk. MSS. III. (1876), p. 99, and I. cclxxxvii. Also refer to the practices of the Nambuthiri Brahmans as described in Cochin Tribes and Castes, II. pp. 229-233. In many ways, the Nambuthiris maintain the ancient Vedic traditions.
[458] Mahâbh. Vanaparvan, 11001 ff. The Bhâgavata Purâṇa, Book IV. sec. 2-7 emphasizes more clearly the objections of the Rishis to Śiva as an enemy of Vedic sacrifices and a patron of unhallowed rites.
[458] Mahâbh. Vanaparvan, 11001 ff. The Bhâgavata Purâṇa, Book IV. sec. 2-7 highlights the Rishis' objections to Śiva as an adversary of Vedic sacrifices and a supporter of forbidden rituals.
[459] Mahâbh. XII. sec. 283. In the same way the worship of Dionysus was once a novelty in Greece and not countenanced by the more conservative and respectable party. See Eur. Bacchae, 45. The Varâha-Purâna relates that the Śivaite scriptures were revealed for the benefit of certain Brahmans whose sins had rendered them incapable of performing Vedic rites. There is probably some truth in this legend in so far as it means that Brahmans who were excommunicated for some fault were disposed to become the ministers of non-Vedic cults.
[459] Mahâbh. XII. sec. 283. Similarly, the worship of Dionysus was once a new trend in Greece and wasn’t accepted by the more traditional and respectable groups. See Eur. Bacchae, 45. The Varâha-Purâna states that the Śivaite texts were revealed for the benefit of certain Brahmans whose sins had made them unable to perform Vedic rituals. There is likely some truth to this legend, as it suggests that Brahmans who were excommunicated for some wrongdoing were inclined to become followers of non-Vedic practices.
[462] E.g. Anusâsana P., 6806 ff.
[465] Cf. the title Bhâgavata Purâṇa.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See the title Bhâgavata Purâṇa.
[466] Ekâyana is mentioned several times in the Chândogya Up. (VII. 1, 2 and afterwards) as a branch of religious or literary knowledge and in connection with Nârada. But it is not represented as the highest or satisfying knowledge.
[466] Ekâyana is referenced multiple times in the Chândogya Up. (VII. 1, 2 and later) as a type of religious or literary knowledge and in relation to Nârada. However, it is not portrayed as the ultimate or fulfilling knowledge.
[468] The Saṃhitâs hitherto best known to orientalists appear to be late and spurious. The Bṛihadbrahma Saṃhitâ published by the Anandasrama Press mentions Râmânuja. The work printed in the Bibliotheca Indica as Nârada Pâncarâtra (although its proper title apparently is Jñânamritasâra) has been analyzed by Roussel in Mélanges Harlez and is apparently a late liturgical compilation of little originality. Schrader's work was published by the Adyar Library in Madras, 1916. Apparently the two forms Pâncarâtra and Pâncarâtra are both found, but that with the long vowel is the more usual. Govindâcârya's article in J.R.A.S. 1911, p. 951 may also be consulted.
[468] The texts that are currently most recognized by scholars seem to be later and not genuine. The Bṛihadbrahma Saṃhitâ published by the Anandasrama Press references Râmânuja. The work printed in the Bibliotheca Indica as Nârada Pâncarâtra (though its actual title seems to be Jñânamritasâra) has been examined by Roussel in Mélanges Harlez and is likely a late liturgical collection with little originality. Schrader's work was published by the Adyar Library in Madras in 1916. Both forms Pâncarâtra and Pâncarâtra are used, but the one with the long vowel is more common. Govindâcârya's article in J.R.A.S. 1911, p. 951 may also be referenced.
[469] The oldest are apparently the Paushkara, Vârâha, Brahma, Sâttvata, Jaya and Ahirbudhnya Saṃhitâs, all quoted as authoritative by either Râmânuja or Vedânta Deśika.
[469] The oldest texts seem to be the Paushkara, Vârâha, Brahma, Sâttvata, Jaya, and Ahirbudhnya Saṃhitâs, all referenced as authoritative by either Râmânuja or Vedânta Deśika.
[473] Vishṇu is the name of God in all his aspects, but especially God as the absolute. Vâsudeva is used both of God as the absolute and also as the first emanation (Vyûha).
[473] Vishnu is the name of God in all his forms, but especially as the absolute God. Vasudeva refers to God as the absolute as well as the first emanation (Vyūha).
[474] Kriyâśakti and Bhûtiśakti.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Kriyāśakti and Bhūtiśakti.
[480] And, as Schrader observes, the evolutionary system of the Pâncarâtra is practically concerned with only one force, the Śakti, which under the name Bhûti is manifested as the Universe and as Kriyâ vitalizes and governs it (p. 31).
[480] And, as Schrader notes, the evolution system of the Pâncarâtra mainly deals with just one force, the Śakti, which, under the name Bhûti, appears as the Universe and, as Kriyâ, energizes and controls it (p. 31).
[482] Lüder's List of Brahmi inscriptions, No. 6, supposed not to be later than 200 B.C. and No. 1112 supposed to be of the first century B.C. Sankarshaṇa is also mentioned in the Kauṭilîya Arthaśâstra, XIII. 3.
[482] Lüder's List of Brahmi inscriptions, No. 6, is believed to date back no later than 200 B.C., and No. 1112 is thought to be from the first century B.C. Sankarshaṇa is also referenced in the Kauṭilîya Arthaśâstra, XIII. 3.
[483] Some Saṃhitâs emphasize the distinction between the followers of the Veda and the enlightened ones who worship the Lord. See Schrader, Pâncarâtra, p. 97.
[483] Some Saṃhitâs highlight the difference between those who follow the Veda and the enlightened individuals who worship the Lord. See Schrader, Pâncarâtra, p. 97.
[484] Syâm iti Sankalpa, Ahirbudh. Sam. II. 7. In some late Upanishads (e.g. Nâradaparivrâjaka and Bṛihatsannyâsa) Cakrî is used as a synonym for a Pâncarâtra.
[484] Syâm means Sankalpa, Ahirbudh. Sam. II. 7. In some later Upanishads (e.g. Nâradaparivrâjaka and Bṛihatsannyâsa), Cakrî is used as another term for a Pâncarâtra.
[486] See the quotations from the Sâttvata Saṃhitâ in Schrader, pp. 150-154. As in the Pâncarâtra there is the Para above the four Vyûhas, so some late forms of Buddhism regard Vairocana as the source of four Jinas.
[486] Check out the quotes from the Sâttvata Saṃhitâ in Schrader, pp. 150-154. Just like in the Pâncarâtra, where there's the Para above the four Vyûhas, some later expressions of Buddhism see Vairocana as the origin of four Jinas.
[487] The Manicheans also had groups of five deities (see Chavannes and Pelliot in J.A. 1913, I. pp. 333-338) but they are just as likely to have borrowed from Buddhism as vice versâ.
[487] The Manicheans also had groups of five deities (see Chavannes and Pelliot in J.A. 1913, I. pp. 333-338), but they probably borrowed from Buddhism just as Buddhism may have borrowed from them.
[489] Manu, I. 10-11, identifies him with Brahmâ and says, "The waters are called Nârah because they are produced from Nara, and he is called Nârâyaṇa because they were his place of movement (ayana)." The same statement occurs in the Nârâyaṇîya.
[489] Manu, I. 10-11, connects him with Brahmâ and states, "The waters are called Nârah because they come from Nara, and he is called Nârâyaṇa because they were his place of movement (ayana)." The same statement appears in the Nârâyaṇîya.
[490] They are said to have been the sons of Dharma (religion or righteousness) and Ahiṃsâ (not-injuring). This is obvious allegory indicating that the Bhâgavata religion rejected animal sacrifices. At the beginning of the Nârâyaṇîya (Śântip. cccxxxv.) it is said that Nârâyaṇa the soul of the universe took birth in a quadruple form as the offspring of Dharma, viz. Nara, Nârâyaṇa, Hari and Kṛishṇa. Nara and Nârâyaṇa are often identified with Arjuna and Vâsudeva. E.g. Udyogap. xxlx. 19.
[490] They are said to be the sons of Dharma (religion or righteousness) and Ahiṃsâ (non-violence). This is a clear allegory showing that the Bhâgavata religion rejected animal sacrifices. At the beginning of the Nârâyaṇîya (Śântip. cccxxxv.), it is mentioned that Nârâyaṇa, the soul of the universe, was born in a quadruple form as the children of Dharma, namely Nara, Nârâyaṇa, Hari, and Kṛishṇa. Nara and Nârâyaṇa are often identified as Arjuna and Vâsudeva. E.g. Udyogap. xxlx. 19.
[491] Mahâbhâr. XII.
[492] It is an episode in Mahâbhâr. VI. and in its present form was doubtless elaborated apart from the rest. But we may surmise that the incident of Kṛishṇa's removing Arjuna's scruples by a discourse appeared in the early versions of the story and also that the discourse was longer and profounder than would seem appropriate to the European reader of a tale of battles. But as the Vedânta philosophy and the doctrine of Kṛishṇa's godhead developed, the discourse may have been amplified and made to include later theological views. Garbe in his German translation attempts to distinguish the different strata and his explanation of the inconsistencies as due to successive redactions and additions may contain some truth. But these inconsistencies in theology are common to all sectarian writings and I think the main cause for them must be sought not so much in the alteration and combination of documents, as in a mixed and eclectic mode of thought. Even in European books of the first rank inconsistencies are not unknown and they need not cause surprise in works which were not written down but committed to memory. A poet composing a long religious poem in this way and feeling, as many Hindus feel, both that God is everything and also that he is a very present personal help, may very well express himself differently in different parts. On the other hand the editors of such poems are undoubtedly tempted to insert in them later popular doctrines.
[492] This is a segment from the Mahâbhârata. VI., and it was likely developed separately from the rest. However, we can assume that the part where Kṛishṇa helps Arjuna overcome his doubts with a speech was present in earlier versions of the story, and that this speech was longer and deeper than what might seem suitable for a European audience reading a tale of battles. As Vedânta philosophy and the idea of Kṛishṇa's divinity evolved, this speech may have been expanded to incorporate later theological perspectives. Garbe, in his German translation, attempts to pinpoint the different layers, and his explanation of the inconsistencies as a result of successive edits and additions could be partly true. Still, these inconsistencies in theology are typical of all sectarian texts, and I believe the main reason for them lies not just in the modification and combination of documents, but in a mixed and eclectic way of thinking. Even in top European literature, inconsistencies can be found and shouldn't be surprising in works that were transmitted orally. A poet creating a lengthy religious poem under these circumstances, feeling—as many Hindus do—that God is both everything and a close, personal helper, might naturally express himself differently in various sections. On the flip side, editors of such poems are undoubtedly tempted to weave in later popular beliefs.
[494] Śivabhâgavata, see his comment on Pâniṇi, V. 3. 99 and V. 2. 76. The name is remarkable and suggests that the Śivaites may have imitated the Bhâgavatas.
[494] Śivabhâgavata, see his comment on Pâniṇi, V. 3. 99 and V. 2. 76. The name is interesting and implies that the Śivaites might have copied the Bhâgavatas.
[495] I. xxiii. 209. The Bibliotheca Ind. edition reads Nakulì. Aufrecht (Bodl. MSS.) has Lakulî. The same story is found in Linga P. chap. XXIV. Lakulî is said to have had four pupils who founded four branches. Lakulin does not play an important part in modern Śivaism but is mentioned in inscriptions from the tenth till the thirteenth centuries. The Sarva-darśana-saṅgraha describes the Nakulîśa-Pâśupata system and quotes Nakulîśa who is clearly the same as Lakulin. The figures on Kushan coins representing Śiva as holding a club may be meant for Lakulin but also may be influenced by Greek figures of Herakles. See for Lakulin Fleet in J.R.A.S. 1907, pp. 419 ff. and Bhandarkar Vaishṇavism and Śaivism, pp. 115 ff. The coins of Wema Kadphises bear the title Mahiśvara, apparently meaning worshipper of the Great Lord. Temples in south India seem to have been named after Kâyârohana in the seventh century A.D. See Gopinâtha Rao, Hindu Iconography, II. p. 19.
[495] I. xxiii. 209. The Bibliotheca Ind. edition states Nakulì. Aufrecht (Bodl. MSS.) refers to Lakulî. The same story appears in Linga P. chap. XXIV. Lakulî is said to have had four students who established four branches. Lakulin doesn't play a significant role in modern Śivaism but is mentioned in inscriptions from the tenth to the thirteenth centuries. The Sarva-darśana-saṅgraha discusses the Nakulīśa-Pâśupata system and cites Nakulīśa, who is clearly the same as Lakulin. The images on Kushan coins depicting Śiva with a club may represent Lakulin but could also be influenced by Greek representations of Herakles. Refer to Lakulin in Fleet's J.R.A.S. 1907, pp. 419 ff. and Bhandarkar's Vaishṇavism and Śaivism, pp. 115 ff. The coins of Wema Kadphises bear the title Mahiśvara, seemingly meaning worshipper of the Great Lord. Temples in South India appear to have been named after Kâyârohana in the seventh century A.D. See Gopinâtha Rao, Hindu Iconography, II. p. 19.
[496] Mahâbhâr. XII.
[500] E.g. Śaṅkara-dig-vijaya. The first notice of these sects appears to be an inscription at Igatpuri in the Nâsik district of about 620 A.D. recording a grant for the worship of Kapaleśvara and the maintenance of Mahâvrâtins (= Kàpàlikās) in his temple. But doubtless the sects are much older.
[500] For example, Śaṅkara-dig-vijaya. The earliest mention of these sects seems to be an inscription in Igatpuri, located in the Nâsik district, dating back to around 620 A.D. This inscription notes a donation for the worship of Kapaleśvara and the upkeep of the Mahâvrâtins (= Kàpàlikās) in his temple. However, it is likely that these sects are much older.
[503] The Pâśupatas seem to attach less importance to this triad, though as they speak of Pati, Paśu and the impurities of the soul there is not much difference. In their views of causation and free will they differed slightly from the Śaivas, since they held that Śiva is the universal and absolute cause, the actions of individuals being effective only in so far as they are in conformity with the will of Śiva. The Śaiva siddhânta however holds that Śiva's will is not irrespective of individual Karma, although his independence is not thereby diminished. He is like a man holding a magnet and directing the movements of needles.
[503] The Pâśupatas seem to place less importance on this triad, but when they discuss Pati, Paśu, and the impurities of the soul, there isn’t much difference. In their views on causation and free will, they differ slightly from the Śaivas, as they believe that Śiva is the universal and absolute cause, and that individual actions are effective only to the extent that they align with Śiva's will. However, the Śaiva siddhânta maintains that Śiva's will does not ignore individual Karma, though his independence is still intact. He is like a person holding a magnet and guiding the movements of needles.
[504] There is some difference of language and perhaps of doctrine on this point in various Śivaite works. Both Śivaites and Pâncarâtrins sometimes employ the language of the Advaita. But see Schrader, Int. to Pâncarâtra, pp. 91 ff.
[504] There are some differences in language and possibly in beliefs about this point in various Śivaite texts. Both Śivaites and Pâncarâtrins sometimes use terminology from Advaita. But see Schrader, Int. to Pâncarâtra, pp. 91 ff.
[505] The five Kañcukas (or six including Mâyâ) are strictly speaking tattvas of which the Śaivas enumerate 36 and are kâla, niyati, râga, vidyâ and kalâ contrasted with nityatva, vyâpakatva, pûrṇatva, sarvajnatva, sarvakartṛitva which are qualities of spirit. See Chatterji, Kashmir Śaivism, 75 ff., 160, where he points out that the Kañcukas are essentially equivalent to Kant's "forms of perception and conception." See too Schrader, Int. to Pâncarâtra, 64, 90, 115.
[505] The five Kañcukas (or six if you count Mâyâ) are essentially principles that the Śaivas list as 36, which include kâla, niyati, râga, vidyâ, and kalâ. These contrast with nityatva, vyâpakatva, pûrṇatva, sarvajnatva, and sarvakartṛitva, which are qualities of the spirit. See Chatterji, Kashmir Śaivism, 75 ff., 160, where he notes that the Kañcukas are basically similar to Kant's "forms of perception and conception." Also, check out Schrader, Int. to Pâncarâtra, 64, 90, 115.
[508] The Sanskrit text and translation of the Mṛigendra are published in the Siddhânta-Dipika, vol. IV. 1901 ff. It is sometimes described as an Upâgama and sometimes as the Jñânapâda of the Kâmika Âgama.
[508] The Sanskrit text and translation of the Mṛigendra are published in the Siddhânta-Dipika, vol. IV. 1901 onward. It is sometimes called an Upâgama and other times referred to as the Jñânapâda of the Kâmika Âgama.
[510] Or Śrîkaṇṭha. The commentary is translated in Siddhânta-Dipika, vol. I. ff. In spite of sectarian views as to its early date, it seems to be influenced by the views and language of Râmânuja.
[510] Or Śrîkaṇṭha. The commentary is translated in Siddhânta-Dipika, vol. I. ff. Despite differing opinions about its early date, it appears to be influenced by the ideas and language of Râmânuja.
CHAPTER XXVIII
ŚANKARA. SIVAISM IN SOUTHERN INDIA. KASHMIR. LINGÂYATS
1
About the sixth century A.D. the decadence of Buddhism and the invigoration of Brahmanism were both well advanced. The Mahabharata existed as a great collection of epic and religious poetry and the older Puranas were already composed. Even at the present day authorities differ as to whether Śiva or Vishṇu commands the allegiance of the majority and naturally it is hard to describe the distribution of sects in earlier times. The monuments of the Guptas (for instance the ruins at Eran) suggest that they were Vishnuites but a little later the cult of Śiva becomes more prominent. The Emperor Harsha (612-648) and his family were eclectic, honouring Śiva, the Sun and the Buddha, but it is not recorded that they worshipped Vishṇu. Bâṇa who lived at his court indicates[511] that Śivaism was the predominant form of worship, but also mentions Buddhists and Bhâgavatas. Hsüan Chuang on the other hand holds him up as a devout Buddhist. Great Śivaite shrines in different parts of India such as the temple of Bhuvaneshwar in Orissa and the Kailas at Ellora were probably constructed in the seventh century and it is likely that in the defeat of Buddhism the worshippers of Śiva played an active part.
Around the sixth century A.D., Buddhism was in decline while Brahmanism was gaining strength. The Mahabharata was already a vast collection of epic and religious poetry, and the older Puranas had been composed. Even today, scholars disagree on whether Śiva or Vishṇu had the loyalty of the majority, making it challenging to detail the distribution of sects in earlier times. The Gupta monuments, like the ruins at Eran, suggest they were Vishnuites, but shortly after, the worship of Śiva became more prominent. Emperor Harsha (612-648) and his family were eclectic, honoring Śiva, the Sun, and the Buddha, but there’s no record of them worshipping Vishṇu. Bâṇa, who lived at his court, indicates that Śivaism was the main form of worship, but he also mentions Buddhists and Bhâgavatas. On the other hand, Hsüan Chuang portrays him as a devoted Buddhist. Major Śivaite temples across India, such as the Bhuvaneshwar temple in Orissa and the Kailas at Ellora, were likely built in the seventh century, and it's probable that devotees of Śiva played a significant role in the decline of Buddhism.
This conflict is connected with the names of Kumâriḷa Bhaṭṭa (c. 725 A.D.) and Śaṅkara Âcârya (c. 800 A.D.). It clearly represents forces which cannot be restricted to the character of individuals or the span of human lives. The elements which compose Hinduism had been vigorous long before the eighth century and Buddhism, though decadent, continued to exist in India later. But probably the careers of these two men are the best record of the decisive turn of the tide. It is often said that they revived Hinduism, but however much they insisted [207] on the authority of ancient tradition, the real result of their labours was not to re-establish the order of things which prevailed before the rise of Buddhism, but to give authority and solidity to the mixture of Brahmanism, Buddhism and popular beliefs which had grown up. Kumâriḷa is said to have been a Brahman of Bihar who was a Buddhist monk but became a worshipper of Śiva and so zealous a persecutor of his former faith that he persuaded a king of his time named Sudhanvan to exterminate it from the Himalaya to Cape Comorin. This is a monstrous exaggeration but he was doubtless a determined enemy of the Buddhists, as can be seen from his philosophical works.[512] He taught little about metaphysics or the nature of God, but he insisted on the necessity and efficacy of Vedic rites.
This conflict is tied to the figures of Kumâriḷa Bhaṭṭa (around 725 A.D.) and Śaṅkara Âcârya (around 800 A.D.). It clearly represents forces that go beyond individual character or the duration of human lives. The elements that make up Hinduism had been strong long before the eighth century, and Buddhism, despite being in decline, continued to exist in India afterward. However, the careers of these two individuals probably best capture the significant change in direction. People often say they revived Hinduism, but despite their emphasis on the authority of ancient tradition, the actual outcome of their efforts was not to restore the previous order that existed before Buddhism but to legitimize and strengthen the blend of Brahmanism, Buddhism, and folk beliefs that had developed. Kumâriḷa is thought to have been a Brahman from Bihar who started as a Buddhist monk but later became a devotee of Śiva, so fervent in his opposition to his former faith that he convinced a king named Sudhanvan to eradicate it from the Himalayas to Cape Comorin. This is an extreme exaggeration, but he was certainly a committed adversary of the Buddhists, as evidenced by his philosophical works. He didn’t focus much on metaphysics or the nature of God but strongly advocated for the necessity and effectiveness of Vedic rituals.
More important both as a thinker and an organizer was Śankara. There is some discrepancy in the traditions of his birth, but he was probably born about 788 A.D.[513] in a family of Nambuthiri Brahmans at Kaladi[514] in the Cochin state. Kaladi occupies a healthy position at some height above the sea level and the neighbourhood is now used as a sanatorium. The cocoanut trees and towered temples which mark many south Indian landscapes are absent, and paddy fields alternate with a jungle of flowering plants studded with clumps of bamboos. A broad river broken by sandbanks winds through the district and near the villages there are often beautiful avenues of great trees. Not far distant is Trichur which possesses a Vedic college and a large temple, forbidden to Europeans but like most edifices in Malabar modest in architecture. This is not the land of giant gopurams and multitudinous sculpture, but of lives dedicated [208] to the acquisition of traditional learning and the daily performance of complicated but inconspicuous rites.
More significant both as a thinker and an organizer was Śankara. There are some inconsistencies in the stories about his birth, but he was likely born around 788 A.D.[513] in a family of Nambuthiri Brahmins in Kaladi[514] in the Cochin state. Kaladi is situated at a healthy elevation above sea level, and the area is now used as a sanatorium. Unlike many South Indian landscapes that feature coconut trees and towering temples, here paddy fields alternate with jungles of flowering plants sprinkled with clumps of bamboo. A wide river, interrupted by sandbanks, meanders through the region, and near the villages, there are often lovely avenues lined with large trees. Not far away is Trichur, which has a Vedic college and a large temple, closed to Europeans, but like most buildings in Malabar, modest in design. This is not a land of giant gopurams and abundant sculptures, but of lives devoted to acquiring traditional knowledge and performing complex yet subtle rituals daily.[208]
The accounts of Śankara's life are little but a collection of legends, in which, however, the following facts stand out. He was the pupil of Govinda, who was himself the pupil of Gauḍapâda and this connection would be important could we be certain that this Gauḍapâda was the author of the metrical treatise on philosophy bearing his name. He wrote popular hymns as well as commentaries on the Upanishads, Vedânta Sutras and Bhagavad-gîtâ, thus recognizing both Vedic and post-Vedic literature: he resided for some time on the Narbudda and at Benares, and in the course of the journeys in which like Paul he gave vent to his activity, he founded four maṭhs or monasteries, at Sringeri, Puri, Dwârakâ and Badrinath in the Himalaya. Near the latter he died before he was an old man. On his deathbed he is said to have asked forgiveness for going on pilgrimages and frequenting temples, because by so doing he had seemed to forget that God is everywhere.
The stories about Śankara's life are mostly just a collection of legends, but a few facts stand out. He was a student of Govinda, who was himself a student of Gauḍapâda, and this connection would be significant if we could be sure that this Gauḍapâda was the author of the metrical treatise on philosophy that carries his name. He wrote popular hymns as well as commentaries on the Upanishads, Vedânta Sutras, and Bhagavad-gîtâ, thus acknowledging both Vedic and post-Vedic literature. He lived for a while near the Narbudda River and in Benares, and during his travels, similar to Paul, he expressed his energy by founding four monasteries at Sringeri, Puri, Dwârakâ, and Badrinath in the Himalayas. He died near the last one when he was still relatively young. On his deathbed, he reportedly asked for forgiveness for going on pilgrimages and visiting temples, as he felt that in doing so he had forgotten that God is everywhere.
It is clear that his work both as an author and organizer was considerable and permanent, and that much of his career was spent outside Dravidian lands. His greatest achievement was his exposition of the Vedânta, of which I treat elsewhere. He based his arguments unreservedly on the Vedic texts and aimed at being merely conservative, but those texts and even the ancient commentaries are obscure and inconsistent, and it was reserved for his genius to produce from them a system which in consistency, thoroughness and profundity holds the first place in Indian philosophy. His work did not consist, as he himself supposed, in harmonizing the Upanishads. In this department of interpretation he is as uncritical as other orthodox commentators, but he took the most profound thoughts of the old literature and boldly constructed with them a great edifice of speculation. Since his time the Vedânta has been regarded as the principal philosophy of India—a position which it does not seem to have held before—and his interpretation of it, though often contested and not suited to popular religion, still commands the respect and to some extent the adherence of most educated Hindus.
It’s clear that his work as both an author and organizer was significant and lasting, and that much of his career took place outside of Dravidian regions. His greatest accomplishment was his explanation of the Vedânta, which I discuss elsewhere. He based his arguments entirely on the Vedic texts and aimed to be strictly conservative, but those texts and even the ancient commentaries are unclear and inconsistent. It was his genius that created a system from them that is unparalleled in consistency, thoroughness, and depth within Indian philosophy. His work didn’t simply involve harmonizing the Upanishads as he believed. In this area of interpretation, he was as uncritical as other orthodox commentators. However, he took the most profound ideas from ancient literature and boldly constructed a comprehensive framework of speculation with them. Since his time, Vedânta has been seen as the leading philosophy of India— a status it didn’t seem to have previously—and his interpretation of it, although often challenged and not necessarily aligned with popular religion, still earns the respect and, to some degree, the loyalty of most educated Hindus.
In practical religion he clearly felt, as every Indian reformer still must feel, the want of discipline and a common standard.[209] Though the Buddhism of his day had ceased to satisfy the needs of India, he saw that its strength lay in its morality, its relative freedom from superstition and its ecclesiastical organization. Accordingly he denounced extravagant sects[515] and forbade such practices as branding. He also instituted an order of ascetics.[516] In doing this he was not only trying to obtain for Hinduism the disciplinary advantages of the Buddhist church but also to break through the rule prescribing that a Brahman must first be a householder and only late in life devote himself entirely to religion. This rule did the Brahmans good service in insuring the continuity and respectability of their class but it tended to drive enthusiasts to other creeds.
In practical religion, he clearly recognized, as every Indian reformer still must, the need for discipline and a shared standard.[209] Although the Buddhism of his time no longer met the needs of India, he understood that its strength was in its ethics, its relative freedom from superstition, and its structured organization. Therefore, he criticized extreme sects[515] and prohibited practices like branding. He also established a group of ascetics.[516] In doing this, he aimed not only to give Hinduism the disciplinary benefits of the Buddhist church but also to challenge the rule that required a Brahman to first be a householder and only later in life dedicate himself completely to religion. This rule served the Brahmans well by ensuring the continuity and respectability of their class, but it also pushed passionate individuals toward other faiths.
It does not seem that any sect can plausibly claim Śaṅkara as founder or adherent. His real religion was Vedântism and this, though not incompatible with sectarian worship, is predisposed to be impartial. The legend says that when summoned to his mother's deathbed, he spoke to her first of the Vedânta philosophy. But she bade him give her some consolation which she could understand. So he recited a hymn to Śiva, but when the attendants of that god appeared she was frightened. Śaṅkara then recited a hymn to Vishṇu and when his gentler messengers came to her bedside, she gave her son her blessing and allowed them to take her willing soul.
It doesn't seem like any group can convincingly claim Śaṅkara as their founder or follower. His true belief system was Vedântism, which, while not against sectarian worship, tends to be more neutral. The story goes that when he was called to his mother's deathbed, he first spoke to her about Vedânta philosophy. But she asked him to give her some comfort that she could understand. So he recited a hymn to Śiva, but when the followers of that god showed up, she got scared. Śaṅkara then recited a hymn to Vishṇu, and when his kinder messengers arrived at her bedside, she blessed her son and let them take her soul peacefully.
This story implies that he was ready to sanction any form of reputable worship with a slight bias towards Vishnuism.[517] At the present day the Smârtas, who consider themselves his followers, have a preference for the worship of Śiva. But the basis of their faith is not Śivaism but the recognition of [210] the great body of Indian traditions known as Sṃriti. And that, next to Vedântism, was the essence of Śaṅkara's teaching: he wished to regard tradition as a coherent whole, based on the eternal Veda but including authoritative Sṃriti to be interpreted in the light of the Veda, and thus he hoped to correct extravagant and partial views and to lead to those heights whence it is seen that all is one, "without difference."
This story suggests that he was willing to support any form of respectable worship, with a slight preference for Vishnuism.[517] Nowadays, the Smârtas, who see themselves as his followers, prefer to worship Śiva. However, the foundation of their faith isn't Śivaism but the acknowledgment of [210] the vast array of Indian traditions known as Sṃriti. That, alongside Vedântism, was the core of Śaṅkara's teachings: he aimed to view tradition as a unified whole, rooted in the eternal Veda but also encompassing authoritative Sṃriti, which should be interpreted through the lens of the Veda. In doing so, he hoped to amend extreme and narrow perspectives and to guide people to the understanding that everything is one, "without difference."
The results of Śaṅkara's labours may still be seen in the organization of southern Hinduism which is more complete than in the north. It is even said that the head of the Śringeri monastery in Mysore exercises an authority over Smârta Brahmans similar to that of the Pope.[518] This is probably an exaggeration but his decision is accepted as settling caste disputes, and even to-day the Śringeri maṭh[519] is one of the most important religious institutions in India. The abbot, who is known as Jagadguru, is head of the Smârta Brahmans. The present occupant is said to be thirty-third in succession from Śaṅkara and numbers among his predecessors Sâyanâcârya, the celebrated Vedic commentator who lived in the fourteenth century. The continued prosperity of this establishment and of other religious corporations in the Dravidian country, whereas the Mohammedans destroyed all monasteries whether Hindu or Buddhist in the north, is one of the reasons for certain differences in northern and southern Hinduism. For instance in northern India any Brahman, whatever his avocation may be, is allowed to perform religious ceremonies, whereas in the Deccan and south India Brahmans are divided into Laukikas or secular and Bhikshus or religious. The latter are householders, the name having lost its monastic sense, but they have the exclusive right of officiating and acting as Gurus and thus form a married clergy.
The results of Śaṅkara's work can still be seen in the organization of southern Hinduism, which is more structured than in the north. It's even said that the head of the Śringeri monastery in Mysore has authority over Smârta Brahmans similar to that of the Pope.[518] This might be an exaggeration, but his decisions are accepted as final in caste disputes. Even today, the Śringeri maṭh[519] is one of the most important religious institutions in India. The abbot, known as Jagadguru, leads the Smârta Brahmans. The current abbot is said to be the thirty-third in line from Śaṅkara, and among his predecessors is Sâyanâcârya, the famous Vedic commentator from the fourteenth century. The ongoing success of this institution and other religious organizations in the Dravidian region, while the Mohammedans destroyed all monasteries—whether Hindu or Buddhist—in the north, is one reason for some of the differences between northern and southern Hinduism. For example, in northern India, any Brahman, regardless of their profession, is allowed to perform religious ceremonies, whereas in the Deccan and southern India, Brahmans are divided into Laukikas (secular) and Bhikshus (religious). The Bhikshus are householders, a term that has lost its monastic meaning, but they have the exclusive right to officiate and serve as Gurus, thereby forming a married clergy.
It is possible that the influence of Śaṅkara may have had a puritanical side which partly accounts for the degeneration of later Indian art. His higher teaching inculcated a spiritual creed which needed no shrines, while for those who required rites he recommended the old Brahmanic ritual rather than the modern temple cultus. The result of this may have been that piety and learning were diverted from art, so that architecture and sculpture ceased to be in touch with the best religious intelligence.
It’s possible that Śaṅkara’s influence had a strict aspect that partly explains the decline of later Indian art. His elevated teachings promoted a spiritual belief that didn’t rely on shrines, while for those wanting rituals, he suggested the old Brahmanic practices instead of the newer temple worship. This may have led to a shift where devotion and knowledge moved away from the arts, causing architecture and sculpture to lose connection with the highest religious understanding.
The debt of Śaṅkara to Buddhism is an interesting question. He indited polemics against it and contributed materially to its downfall, but yet if the success of creeds is to be measured by the permanence of ideas, there is some reason for thinking that the vanquished led the conqueror captive. Śaṅkara's approval both in theory and in practice of the monastic life is Buddhistic rather than Brahmanical.[520] The doctrines of Mâyâ and the distinction between higher and lower truth, which are of cardinal importance in his philosophy, receive only dubious support from the Upanishads and from Bâdarâyaṇa, but are practically identical with the teachings of the Mâdhyamika School of Buddhism and it was towards this line of thought rather than towards the theism of the Pâśupatas or Bhâgavatas that he was drawn. The affinity was recognized in India, for Śaṅkara and his school were stigmatized by their opponents as Buddhists in disguise.[521]
The debt of Śaṅkara to Buddhism is an intriguing topic. He wrote critiques against it and played a significant role in its decline, yet if we assess the success of beliefs based on the longevity of their ideas, we might conclude that the defeated influenced the winner. Śaṅkara's endorsement of monastic life, both in theory and practice, aligns more with Buddhist principles than Brahmanical ones.[520] The concepts of Mâyâ and the distinction between higher and lower truth, which are crucial to his philosophy, receive only questionable backing from the Upanishads and from Bâdarâyaṇa, but are nearly identical to the teachings of the Mâdhyamika School of Buddhism. He leaned more towards this line of thought than to the theism of the Pâśupatas or Bhâgavatas. This similarity was acknowledged in India, where Śaṅkara and his followers were labeled by their critics as Buddhists in disguise.[521]
2
The reader will perhaps have noticed that up to the career of Śaṅkara we have been concerned exclusively with northern India, and even Śaṅkara, though a native of the south, lived much in the north and it was the traditional sacred lore of the north which he desired to establish as orthodoxy. Not only the older literature, Brahmanic as well as Buddhist, but most of the Purâṇas ignore the great stretch of Dravidian country which forms the southern portion of the peninsula and if the Râmâyaṇa sings of Râma's bridge and the conquest of Laṅka this is clearly an excursion into the realms of fancy. Yet the Dravidian [212] districts are ample in extent, their monuments are remarkable, their languages are cultivated, and Tamil literature possesses considerable interest, antiquity and originality. Unfortunately in dealing with these countries we experience in an unusually acute form the difficulties which beset every attempt to trace the history of ideas in India, namely, the absence of chronology. Before 1000 A.D. materials for a connected history are hardly accessible. There are, however, many inscriptions and a mass of literature (itself of disputable date) containing historical allusions, and from these may be put together not so much a skeleton or framework as pictures of ancient life and thought which may be arranged in a plausible order.
The reader might have noticed that up until the time of Śaṅkara, we've only focused on northern India. Even Śaṅkara, who originally came from the south, spent a lot of time in the north and aimed to establish the traditional sacred teachings of that region as the standard. Not only does the older literature, both Brahmanic and Buddhist, but most of the Purâṇas overlook the large expanse of Dravidian territory in the southern part of the peninsula. While the Râmâyaṇa mentions Râma's bridge and the triumph over Laṅka, this is clearly a venture into imagination. However, the Dravidian [212] regions are extensive, their monuments are impressive, their languages are refined, and Tamil literature has significant interest, age, and originality. Unfortunately, when we study these areas, we face the typical challenges of tracing the history of ideas in India, specifically the lack of chronology. Before 1000 A.D., it’s tough to find materials for a coherent history. There are many inscriptions and a considerable amount of literature (which are questionable in terms of dating) that include historical references, and from these, we can piece together not so much a skeleton or a framework but rather images of ancient life and thought that can be organized in a reasonable sequence.
It may be said that where everything is so vague, it would be better to dismiss the whole subject of southern India and its religion, pending the acquisition of more certain information, and this is what many writers have done. But such wide regions, so many centuries, such important phases of literature and thought are involved, that it is better to run the risk of presenting them in false sequence than to ignore them. Briefly it may be regarded as certain that in the early centuries of our era Buddhism, Jainism and Brahmanism all flourished in Dravidian lands. The first two gradually decayed and made way for the last, although Jainism remained powerful until the tenth century. At a fairly early date there were influential Śivaite and Vishnuite sects, each with a devotional literature in the vernacular. Somewhat later this literature takes a more philosophic and ecclesiastical tinge and both sects produce a succession of teachers. Tamil Śivaism, though important for the south, has not spread much beyond its own province, but the Vishnuism associated with such eminent names as Râmânuja and Râmânand has influenced all India, and the latter teacher is the spiritual ancestor of the Kabirpanthis, Sikhs and various unorthodox sects. Political circumstances too tended to increase the importance of the south in religion, for when nearly all the north was in Moslim hands the kingdom of Vijayanagar was for more than two centuries (c. 1330-1565) the bulwark of Hinduism. But in filling up this outline the possibilities of error must be remembered. The poems of Manikka-Vaçagar have such individuality of thought and style that one would suppose them to mark a conspicuous religious movement. Yet some authorities [213] refer them to the third century and others to the eleventh, nor has any standard been formulated for distinguishing earlier and later varieties of Tamil.
It can be said that when things are so unclear, it might be better to put aside the entire topic of southern India and its religion until we gather more reliable information, and many writers have done just that. However, considering such vast areas, numerous centuries, and significant aspects of literature and thought are involved, it's preferable to risk presenting them in the wrong order than to overlook them entirely. In short, it's fairly certain that in the early centuries of our era, Buddhism, Jainism, and Brahmanism all thrived in the Dravidian region. The first two gradually declined and made way for the last, although Jainism remained strong until the tenth century. At an early stage, there were significant Shaivite and Vaishnavite sects, each with its own devotional literature in the local language. Later on, this literature became more philosophical and formal, leading both sects to produce a series of teachers. Tamil Shaivism, while important in the south, has not spread much beyond its region, but Vaishnavism, linked to prominent figures like Rāmānuj and Rāmānand, has influenced all of India, with the latter teacher being the spiritual ancestor of the Kabirpanthis, Sikhs, and various unorthodox groups. Political situations also boosted the significance of the south in religion, as, when much of the north was under Muslim control, the kingdom of Vijayanagar stood as a stronghold of Hinduism for over two centuries (c. 1330-1565). Yet, while filling in these details, the potential for error should be acknowledged. The poems of Manikka-Vaçagar have such distinct individuality in thought and style that one might assume they represent a notable religious movement. However, some scholars refer them to the third century while others date them to the eleventh, and no standard has been established to differentiate between earlier and later forms of Tamil.
I have already mentioned the view that the worship of Śiva and the Linga is Dravidian in origin and borrowed by the Aryans. There is no proof that this worship had its first home in the south and spread northwards, for the Vedic and epic literature provides a sufficient pedigree for Śiva. But this deity always collected round himself attributes and epithets which are not those of the Vedic gods but correspond with what we know of non-Aryan Indian mythology. It is possible that these un-Aryan cults attained in Dravidian lands fuller and more independent development than in the countries colonized by the Aryans, so that the portrait of Śiva, especially as drawn by Tamil writers, does retain the features of some old Dravidian deity, a deity who dances, who sports among men and bewilders them by his puzzling disguises and transformations.[522] But it is not proved that Śiva was the chief god of the early Tamils. An ancient poem, the Purra-Poruḷ Veṇbâ-Mâlai,[523] which contains hardly any allusions to him mentions as the principal objects of worship the goddess Koṭṭavai (Victorious) and her son Muruvan. Popular legends[524] clearly indicate a former struggle between the old religion and Hinduism ending as usual in the recognition by the Brahmans of the ancient gods in a slightly modified form.
I’ve already mentioned the idea that the worship of Śiva and the Linga comes from Dravidian origins and was adopted by the Aryans. There’s no evidence that this worship began in the south and spread north, as Vedic and epic literature provides enough history for Śiva. However, this deity has always gathered around himself traits and titles that don’t belong to the Vedic gods but align with what we know of non-Aryan Indian mythology. It’s possible that these non-Aryan cults developed in Dravidian regions more fully and independently than in areas colonized by the Aryans, so the depiction of Śiva, especially by Tamil writers, may still show characteristics of some ancient Dravidian god, one who dances, mingles with people, and confuses them with his tricky disguises and transformations.[522] But it’s not proven that Śiva was the main god of the early Tamils. An ancient poem, the Purra-Poruḷ Veṇbâ-Mâlai,[523] which hardly references him, highlights the goddess Koṭṭavai (Victorious) and her son Muruvan as the key objects of worship. Popular legends[524] clearly suggest there was a previous conflict between the old religion and Hinduism, which ended, as usual, with the Brahmans recognizing the ancient gods in a slightly altered form.
We have no records whatever of the introduction of Brahmanism into southern India but it may reasonably be supposed to have made its appearance there several centuries before our era, though in what form or with what strength we cannot say. Tradition credits Agastya and Paraśu-râma with having established colonies of Brahmans in the south at undated but remote epochs. But whatever colonization occurred was not on a large scale. An inscription found in Mysore[525] states that Mukkaṇṇa Kadamba (who probably lived in the third century A.D.) imported a number of Brahman families from the north, [214] because he could find none in the south. Though this language may be exaggerated, it is evidence that Brahmans cannot have been numerous at that time and it is probable that Buddhism and Jainism were better represented. Three of Asoka's inscriptions have been found in Mysore and in his last edict describing his missionary efforts he includes "the kings of the Pândyas and Colas in the south" among the conquests of Buddhism. Mahinda founded a monastery in the Tanjore district and probably established Buddhism at various points of the Tamil country on his way to Ceylon.[526] There is therefore no reason to be doubtful of Buddhist activity, literary or other, if evidence for it is forthcoming. Hsüan Chuang in 640 A.D. deplores the decay of Buddhism and speaks of the ruins of many old monasteries.
We have no records of when Brahmanism was introduced to southern India, but it's reasonable to believe it arrived several centuries before our era, though we can't say in what form or how widespread it was. Tradition credits Agastya and Paraśu-râma with establishing colonies of Brahmans in the south at unspecified but distant times. However, any colonization that took place was not extensive. An inscription found in Mysore[525] states that Mukkaṇṇa Kadamba (who likely lived in the third century A.D.) brought a number of Brahman families from the north because he couldn't find any in the south. While this claim might be exaggerated, it suggests that Brahmans were not very numerous at that time, and it’s likely that Buddhism and Jainism had a stronger presence. Three of Asoka's inscriptions have been discovered in Mysore, and in his last edict detailing his missionary work, he mentions "the kings of the Pândyas and Colas in the south" among the areas where Buddhism spread. Mahinda established a monastery in the Tanjore district and probably introduced Buddhism to various locations in the Tamil region on his journey to Ceylon.[526] Therefore, there’s no reason to doubt the presence of Buddhist activity, literary or otherwise, if evidence supports it. Hsüan Chuang, in 640 A.D., laments the decline of Buddhism and notes the ruins of many old monasteries.
According to Jain tradition, which some think is supported by inscriptions at Śravana-Beḷgoḷa,[527] Bhadrabâhu accompanied by Candra Gupta (identified with the Maurya king of that name) led a migration of Jains from the north to Mysore about 300 B.C. The authenticity of this tradition has been much criticized but it can hardly be disputed that Jainism came to southern India about the same time as Buddhism and had there an equally vigorous and even longer existence.
According to Jain tradition, which some believe is backed by inscriptions found at Śravana-Beḷgoḷa,[527] Bhadrabâhu, along with Candra Gupta (who is identified with the Maurya king of the same name), led a migration of Jains from the north to Mysore around 300 B.C. The credibility of this tradition has faced significant criticism, but it’s hard to deny that Jainism arrived in southern India around the same time as Buddhism and had a similarly strong and even longer presence there.
Most Tamil scholars are agreed in referring the oldest Tamil literature to the first three centuries of our era and I see nothing improbable in this. We know that Asoka introduced Buddhism into south India. About the time of the Christian era there are many indications that it was a civilized country[528] which maintained commercial relations with Rome and it is reasonable to suppose that it had a literature. According to native tradition there were three successive Sanghams, or Academies, at Madura. The two earlier appear to be mythical, but the third has some historical basis, although it is probable that poems belonging to several centuries have been associated with it. Among those which have been plausibly referred to the second century A.D. are the two narrative poems Śilappadhikaram [215] and Manimêkhalai as well as the celebrated collection of didactic verses known as the Kural. The first two poems, especially the Manimêkhalai, are Buddhist in tone. The Kural is ethical rather than religious, it hardly mentions the deity,[529] shows no interest in Brahmanic philosophy or ritual and extols a householder's life above an ascetic's. The Nâladiyâr is an anthology of somewhat similar Jain poems which as a collection is said to date from the eighth century, though verses in it may be older. This Jain and Buddhist literature does not appear to have attained any religious importance or to have been regarded as even quasi-canonical, but the Dravidian Hindus produced two large collections of sacred works, one Śivaite the other Vishnuite, which in popular esteem rival the sanctity of the Vedas. Both consist of hymns, attributed to a succession of saints and still sung in the temple worship, and in both sects the saints are followed by a series of teachers and philosophers. We will take the Śivaites first.
Most Tamil scholars agree that the oldest Tamil literature dates back to the first three centuries of our era, and I find this entirely plausible. We know that Asoka introduced Buddhism to South India. Around the time of the Christian era, there are many signs that it was a civilized country[528] that maintained trade relations with Rome, so it’s reasonable to assume it had its own literature. According to local tradition, there were three successive Sanghams, or Academies, in Madura. The first two seem to be mythical, but the third has some historical basis, although it’s likely that poems from various centuries have been linked to it. The two narrative poems, Śilappadhikaram [215] and Manimêkhalai, as well as the well-known collection of moral verses called the Kural, are among those that can be reasonably dated to the second century A.D. The first two poems, particularly Manimêkhalai, have a Buddhist tone. The Kural is more about ethics than religion; it barely mentions the deity,[529] shows no interest in Brahmanic philosophy or rituals, and values a household life over an ascetic one. The Nâladiyâr is an anthology of somewhat similar Jain poems, which as a collection is said to be from the eighth century, although some verses may be older. This Jain and Buddhist literature doesn’t seem to have gained any significant religious importance or been considered even semi-canonical. However, the Dravidian Hindus produced two large collections of sacred works: one dedicated to Śiva and the other to Vishnu, which in popular belief rival the sanctity of the Vedas. Both consist of hymns attributed to a series of saints and are still sung in temple worship, with each sect following a line of teachers and philosophers. We will begin with the Śivaites.
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Their collection of hymns is known as Tirumurai, and was compiled by Nambi-Andar-Nambi said to have lived under King Râjarâja (c. 1000 A.D.). The first portion of it, known as Devâram, contains the hymns of Sambandha, Appar and Sundara. These persons are the most eminent of the sixty-three saints[530] of the southern Śivaites and are credited with many miracles. Tamil scholars[531] consider that Sambandha cannot have lived later than the beginning of the seventh century. He was an adversary of the Jains and Appar is said to have been persecuted by the Buddhists. Of the other works comprised in the Tirumurai the most important is the Tiruvâçagam of Mâṇikka-Vâçagar,[532] one of the finest devotional poems which India can show. It is not, like the Bhagavad-gîtâ, an exposition by the deity, but an outpouring of the soul to the deity. It only incidentally explains the poet's views: its main purpose is to tell of his emotions, experiences and aspirations. This characteristic [216]seems not to be personal but to mark the whole school of Tamil Śaiva writers.
Their collection of hymns is called Tirumurai, and it was compiled by Nambi-Andar-Nambi, who is believed to have lived during the reign of King Râjarâja (around 1000 A.D.). The first part, known as Devâram, includes the hymns of Sambandha, Appar, and Sundara. These individuals are the most prominent among the sixty-three saints of the southern Śivaites and are known for many miracles. Tamil scholars believe that Sambandha must have lived no later than the early seventh century. He opposed the Jains, and Appar is said to have faced persecution from Buddhists. Among the other works included in the Tirumurai, the most significant is the Tiruvâçagam by Mâṇikka-Vâçagar, one of the finest devotional poems in India. Unlike the Bhagavad-gîtâ, which presents teachings from the deity, it is an expression of the soul directed toward the deity. It only briefly touches on the poet's perspectives; its main aim is to convey his emotions, experiences, and aspirations. This feature seems to characterize the entire group of Tamil Śaiva writers rather than just being personal.
This school, which is often called the Siddhânta,[533] though perhaps that term is better restricted to later philosophical writers, is clearly akin to the Pâśupata but alike in thought, sentiment and ritual far more refined. It is in fact one of the most powerful and interesting forms which Hinduism has assumed and it has even attracted the sympathetic interest of Christians. The fervour of its utterances, the appeals to God as a loving father, seem due to the temperament of the Tamils, since such sentiments do not find so clear an expression in other parts of India. But still the whole system, though heated in the furnace of Dravidian emotion, has not been recast in a new mould. Its dogmas are those common to Śivaism in other parts and it accepts as its ultimate authority the twenty-eight Śaiva Âgamas. This however does not detract from the beauty of the special note and tone which sound in its Tamil hymns and prayers.
This school, often referred to as the Siddhânta,[533] though that term might be better reserved for later philosophical writers, is clearly similar to the Pâśupata but is much more refined in thought, feeling, and ritual. It is actually one of the most powerful and fascinating forms of Hinduism and has even captured the compassionate interest of Christians. The passion in its expressions and the calls to God as a loving father seem to stem from the Tamil temperament, as such feelings aren’t as clearly expressed in other parts of India. Yet, the entire system, although intensified by Dravidian emotion, hasn't been reshaped into a new form. Its doctrines are those typical of Śivaism in other regions, and it acknowledges the twenty-eight Śaiva Âgamas as its ultimate authority. However, this doesn't take away from the beauty of the unique tone and sentiment found in its Tamil hymns and prayers.
Whatever the teaching of the little known Âgamas may be, the Śaiva-Siddhânta is closely allied to the Yoga and theistic forms of the Sânkhya. It accepts the three ultimates, Pati the Lord, Paśu his flock or souls, and Pâśa the fetter or matter. So high is the first of these three entities exalted, so earnestly supplicated, that he seems to attain a position like that of Allah in Mohammedanism, as Creator and Disposer. But in spite of occasional phrases, the view of the Yoga that all three—God, souls and matter—are eternal is maintained.[534] Between the world periods there are pauses of quiescence and at the end of these Śiva evolves the universe and souls. That he may act in them he also evolves from himself his energy or Paraçatti (Sk. Śakti). But this does not prevent the god himself in a personal and often visible form from being for his devotees the one central and living reality. The Śakti, often called Umâ, is merely Śiva's reflex and hardly an independent existence.
Whatever the teachings of the lesser-known Âgamas, the Śaiva-Siddhânta is closely related to theistic forms of Yoga and Sânkhya. It acknowledges three ultimate aspects: Pati, the Lord; Paśu, his flock or souls; and Pâśa, the fetter or matter. The first of these entities is so highly exalted and earnestly worshipped that he seems to hold a position similar to that of Allah in Islam, as Creator and Ruler. However, despite some occasional phrases, the Yoga philosophy that all three—God, souls, and matter—are eternal is upheld.[534] In between cycles of the world, there are periods of stillness, and at the end of these, Śiva brings forth the universe and souls. To act within them, he also generates his energy, known as Paraçatti (Sanskrit: Śakti), from himself. Yet, this doesn't stop the god from being the one central and living reality for his devotees, often appearing in a personal and visible form. The Śakti, often referred to as Umâ, is merely a reflection of Śiva and hardly exists independently.
The remarkable feature of this religion, best seen in the Tiruvaçagam, is the personal tie which connects the soul with God. In no literature with which I am acquainted has the individual religious life—its struggles and dejection, its hopes and fears, its confidence and its triumph—received a delineation more frank and more profound. Despite the strangely exotic colouring of much in the picture, not only its outline but its details strikingly resemble the records of devout Christian lives in Europe. Śiva is addressed not only as Lord but as Father. He loves and desires human souls. "Hard though it is for Brahmâ and Vishṇu to reach thee, yet thou did'st desire me." What the soul desires is deliverance from matter and life with Śiva, and this he grants by bestowing grace (Arul). "With mother love he came in grace and made me his"; "O thou who art to thy true servants true"; "To thee, O Father, may I attain, may I yet dwell with thee." Sometimes[535] the poet feels that his sins have shut him off from communion with God. He lies "like a worm in the midst of ants, gnawed by the senses and troubled sore" ejaculating in utter misery "Thou hast forsaken me." But more often he seems on the point of expressing a thought commoner in Christianity than in Indian religion, namely that the troubles of this life are only a preparation for future beatitude. The idea that matter and suffering are not altogether evil is found in the later Sânkhya where Prakriti (which in some respects corresponds to Śakti) is represented as a generous female power working in the interests of the soul.
The standout aspect of this religion, especially evident in the Tiruvaçagam, is the personal connection that links the soul with God. In no literature I'm familiar with has the individual religious experience—its struggles and doubts, its hopes and fears, its confidence and victories—been portrayed more openly and deeply. Even with the oddly exotic elements in the narrative, both its overall shape and its details closely resemble the stories of devout Christian lives in Europe. Śiva is addressed not just as Lord but as Father. He loves and longs for human souls. "Even though it’s hard for Brahmâ and Vishṇu to reach you, still you desired me." What the soul yearns for is liberation from material existence and a life with Śiva, which he grants by giving grace (Arul). "With motherly love he came in grace and made me his"; "O you who are true to your true servants"; "To you, O Father, may I reach, may I dwell with you." Sometimes[535] the poet feels that his sins have separated him from a relationship with God. He feels "like a worm among ants, gnawed by the senses and troubled greatly," crying out in complete despair, "You have abandoned me." But more often, he seems close to expressing an idea more common in Christianity than in Indian religion, namely that the troubles of this life are merely preparation for future happiness. The notion that matter and suffering are not entirely evil appears in later Sânkhya, where Prakriti (which in some ways corresponds to Śakti) is depicted as a generous feminine force acting in the soul's best interests.
Among the many beauties of the Tiruvâçagam is one which reminds us of the works of St. Francis and other Christian poetry, namely the love of nature and animals, especially birds and insects. There are constant allusions to plants and flowers; the refrain of one poem calls on a dragon fly to sing the praises of God and another bids the bird known as Kuyil call him to come. In another ode the poet says he looks for the grace of God like a patient heron watching night and day.
Among the many beauties of the Tiruvâçagam is one that brings to mind the works of St. Francis and other Christian poetry, specifically the love of nature and animals, especially birds and insects. There are constant references to plants and flowers; the refrain of one poem asks a dragonfly to sing God's praises, while another asks the bird known as Kuyil to summon him. In another ode, the poet says he seeks God's grace like a patient heron watching night and day.
The first perusal of these poems impresses on the reader their resemblance to Christian literature. They seem to be a tropical version of Hymns Ancient and Modern and to ascribe to the deity and his worshippers precisely those sentiments [218] which missionaries tell us are wanting among pagans—fatherly love, yearning devotion and the bliss of assured salvation. It is not surprising if many have seen in this tone the result of Christian influence. Yet I do not think that the hypothesis is probable. For striking as is the likeness the contrast is often equally striking. The deity described in words which almost literally render "Sun of my soul, Thou Saviour dear" is also the spouse of Umâ with the white breasts and curled locks; he dances in the halls of Tillai; and the line "Bid thou in grace my fears begone" is followed by two others indicated by dots as being "not translateable."[536] Nor can we say that emotional religion here uses the language of a mythology which it has outgrown. The emotion itself while charged with the love of god, the sense of sin and contrition, has in it another strain which jars on Europeans. Śiva sports with the world and his worshippers treat him with an affectionate intimacy which may be paralleled in the religion of Kṛishṇa but hardly in Christianity.[537] Thus several hymns have reference to a game, such as tossing about a ball (hymn vii), battledore and shuttlecock (xiv) or some form of wrestling in which the opponents place their hands on each other's shoulders (xv). The worshipper can even scold the deity. "If thou forsake me, I will make people smile at thee. I shall abuse thee sore: madman clad in elephant skin: madman that ate the poison: madman, who chose even me as thy own."[538]
The first reading of these poems makes it clear to the reader that they resemble Christian literature. They seem like a tropical version of Hymns Ancient and Modern, attributing to the deity and his followers exactly the feelings that missionaries claim are missing among pagans—fatherly love, deep devotion, and the joy of guaranteed salvation. It's not surprising that many have interpreted this tone as a result of Christian influence. However, I don't think this idea is likely. While the similarities are striking, the differences are often just as pronounced. The deity described in phrases that almost literally translate to "Sun of my soul, Thou Saviour dear" is also the husband of Umâ, with white breasts and curly hair; he dances in the halls of Tillai, and the line "Bid thou in grace my fears begone" is followed by two others marked with dots as "not translatable." Nor can we say that emotional religion here uses the vocabulary of a mythology that it has outgrown. The emotion, while filled with love for God, awareness of sin, and contrition, includes another element that feels jarring to Europeans. Śiva engages playfully with the world, and his worshippers interact with him in a familiar and affectionate way that can be seen in the religion of Kṛishṇa but hardly in Christianity. Thus, several hymns refer to games, like tossing a ball (hymn vii), battledore and shuttlecock (xiv), or wrestling where opponents place their hands on each other's shoulders (xv). The worshipper can even scold the deity. "If you abandon me, I will make people laugh at you. I will insult you badly: madman dressed in elephant skin: madman who swallowed poison: madman who chose even me as your own."
Again, though in part the tone of these poems is Christian, yet they contain little that suggests Christian doctrine. There is nothing about redemption or a suffering god,[539] and many ideas common to Christianity and Hinduism—such as the incarnation,[540] the Trinity, and the divine child and his mother—are absent. It is possible that in some of the later works of the Sittars [219] Christian influence[541] may have supervened but most of this Tamil poetry is explicable as the development of the ideas expressed in the Bhagavad-gîtâ and the Śvetâśvatara Upanishad. Chronologically Christian influence is not impossible and there is a tradition that Mâṇikka-Vâçagar reconverted to Hinduism some natives of Malabar who had become Christians[542] but the uncertainty of his date makes it hard to fix his place in the history of doctrine. Recent Hindu scholars are disposed to assign him to the second or third century.[543] In support of this, it is plausibly urged that he was an active adversary of the Buddhists, that tradition is unanimous in regarding him as earlier than the writers of the Devâram[544] who make references (not however indisputable) to his poem, and that Perisiriyar, who commented on it, lived about 700 A.D. I confess that the tone and sentiments of the poem seem to me what one would expect in the eleventh rather than in the third century: it has something of the same emotional quality as the Gîtâ-govinda and the Bhâgavata-purâṇa, though it differs from them in doctrine and in its more masculine devotion. But the Dravidians are not of the same race as the northern Hindus and since this ecstatic monotheism is clearly characteristic of their literature, it may have made its appearance in the south earlier than elsewhere.
Again, while part of the tone of these poems is Christian, they contain little that suggests Christian beliefs. There’s nothing about redemption or a suffering god, and many ideas common to both Christianity and Hinduism—like incarnation, the Trinity, and the divine child with his mother—are missing. It’s possible that in some of the later works of the Sittars, there may be Christian influence, but most of this Tamil poetry can be understood as the evolution of ideas found in the Bhagavad-gîtâ and the Śvetâśvatara Upanishad. Chronologically, Christian influence isn’t out of the question, and there’s a tradition that Mâṇikka-Vâçagar reconverted some Christians from Malabar back to Hinduism, but the uncertainty around his dates makes it difficult to determine his position in the history of doctrine. Recent Hindu scholars tend to place him in the second or third century. To support this, it’s reasonably argued that he actively opposed the Buddhists, that tradition consistently considers him to be earlier than the writers of the Devâram who refer (though not without dispute) to his poem, and that Perisiriyar, who commented on it, lived around 700 A.D. I have to say that the tone and feelings of the poem seem more in line with what one would expect in the eleventh century rather than the third: it shares a similar emotional quality with the Gîtâ-govinda and the Bhâgavata-purâṇa, though it differs from them in doctrine and has a more masculine devotion. However, the Dravidians are not of the same ethnicity as the northern Hindus, and since this ecstatic monotheism clearly characterizes their literature, it might have emerged in the south earlier than in other regions.
The Tiruvaçagam is not unorthodox but it deals direct with God and is somewhat heedless of priests. This feature becomes more noticeable in other authors such as Paṭṭaṇaṭṭu Piḷḷai, Kapilar and the Telugu poet Vêmana. The first named appears to have lived in the tenth century. The other two are legendary figures to whom anthologies of popular gnomic verses are ascribed and some of those attributed to Kapilar are probably ancient. In all this poetry there rings out a note of almost defiant monotheism, iconoclasm and antisacerdotalism. It may [220] be partly explained by the fact that in the south Brahmanism was preceded, or at least from early times accompanied, by Buddhism and Jainism. These creeds did not make a conquest, for the Dravidian temperament obviously needed a god who could receive and reward passionate devotion, but they cleared the air and spread such ideas as the superiority of good deeds to rites and the uselessness of priests. Even now verses expressing these thoughts are popular in the Madras Presidency, but the sect which produced them, known as the Sittars,[545] is entirely extinct. Caldwell attributes its literature to the seventeenth century, but the evidence available is small and it is clear that this theistic anti-brahmanic school had a long life. As in other cases, the Brahmans did not suppress so much as adapt it. The collection which goes by the name of Śiva-vâkyam contains poems of different ages and styles. Some are orthodox, others have no trace of Brahmanism except the use of Śiva as the name of the deity. Yet it would seem that the anthology as a whole has not fallen under sacerdotal censure.[546]
The Tiruvaçagam isn't unorthodox; rather, it engages directly with God and somewhat overlooks the role of priests. This aspect becomes more evident in the works of other writers like Paṭṭaṇaṭṭu Piḷḷai, Kapilar, and the Telugu poet Vêmana. The first mentioned likely lived in the tenth century. The other two are legendary figures associated with collections of popular wisdom verses, and some of the verses attributed to Kapilar are probably quite old. Throughout this poetry, there's a clear expression of defiant monotheism, iconoclasm, and a rejection of priestly authority. This could be partly explained by the fact that in the south, Brahmanism was preceded, or at least early accompanied, by Buddhism and Jainism. These religions didn’t dominate, because the Dravidian mindset clearly sought a god who could respond to and reward heartfelt devotion, but they did help introduce ideas such as the importance of good deeds over rituals and the futility of priests. Even today, verses expressing these sentiments are popular in the Madras Presidency, but the sect that created them, known as the Sittars,[545] has completely disappeared. Caldwell dates its literature to the seventeenth century, but the existing evidence is limited, and it’s evident that this theistic, anti-Brahmanic movement lasted a long time. As seen in other situations, the Brahmans didn't suppress it so much as they adapted to it. The collection known as Śiva-vâkyam contains poems from various periods and styles. Some are orthodox, while others show no sign of Brahmanism besides referring to Śiva as the deity. However, it seems that the anthology as a whole hasn’t faced criticism from the priestly class.[546]
The important sect of the Lingâyats should perhaps be regarded as an offshoot of this anti-brahmanic school, but before describing it, it may be well briefly to review the history of orthodox Śivaism in the south.
The significant sect of the Lingâyats should probably be seen as a branch of this anti-Brahmin movement, but before discussing it, it might be helpful to quickly look back at the history of traditional Śivaism in the south.
By this phrase is not meant the sect or school which had the support of Śankara but that which developed out of the poems mentioned above without parting company with Brahmanism. Śankara disapproved of their doctrine that the Lord is the efficient cause of the world, nor would the substitution of vernacular for Sanskrit literature and temple ceremonies for Vedic sacrifices have found favour with him. But these were evidently strong tendencies in popular religion. An important portion of the Devâram and the Kanda Purâṇa of Kachiyappar, a Tamil adaptation of the Skanda Purâṇa, were probably written between 600 and 750 A.D.[547] About 1000 A.D. the Tirumurai (including the Devâram) was arranged as a collection in eleven parts, and about a century later Sekkilar composed the Periya Purâṇa, a poetical hagiology, giving the legends [221] of Śivaite saints and shrines. Many important temples were dedicated to Śiva during the eleventh and twelfth centuries.
This phrase doesn't refer to the sect or school supported by Śankara, but rather to the tradition developed from the mentioned poems while still connected to Brahmanism. Śankara disagreed with their belief that the Lord is the main cause of the world, nor would he have approved of replacing Sanskrit literature with vernacular language or Vedic sacrifices with temple ceremonies. However, these were clearly strong trends in popular religion. A significant part of the Devâram and the Kanda Purâṇa by Kachiyappar, a Tamil version of the Skanda Purâṇa, was likely written between 600 and 750 A.D.[547] Around 1000 A.D., the Tirumurai (which includes the Devâram) was compiled into eleven sections, and about a century later, Sekkilar wrote the Periya Purâṇa, a poetic biography that tells the stories [221] of Śivaite saints and temples. Many important temples were dedicated to Śiva during the eleventh and twelfth centuries.
There followed a period of scholasticism in which the body of doctrine called the Śaiva Siddhânta was elaborated by four Âcâryas, namely Mey-Kaṇḍa-Devar,[548] (1223) Aruṇandi, Maraiñâna-Sambandhar and Umâpati (1313). It will thus be seen that the foundation of Śivaite philosophy in Tamil is later than Râmânuja and the first Vishnuite movements, and perhaps it was influenced by them but the methodical exposition of the Śaiva-Siddhântam[549] does not differ materially from the more poetic utterances of the Tiruvaçagam. It recognizes the three entities, the Lord, the soul and matter as separate, but it shows a tendency (doubtless due to the influence of the Vedânta) both to explain away the existence of matter and to identify the soul with the Lord more closely than its original formulæ allow. Matter is described as Mâyâ and is potentially contained in the Lord who manifests it in the creative process which begins each kalpa. The Lord is also said to be one with our souls and yet other. The soul is by nature ignorant, in bondage to the illusion of Mâyâ and of Karma, but by the grace of the Lord it attains to union (not identity) with him, in which it sees that its actions are his actions.
A period of scholasticism followed, during which the body of doctrine known as the Śaiva Siddhânta was developed by four Âcâryas: Mey-Kaṇḍa-Devar,[548] (1223), Aruṇandi, Maraiñâna-Sambandhar, and Umâpati (1313). This shows that the foundation of Śivaite philosophy in Tamil came later than Râmânuja and the initial Vishnuite movements, and it may have been influenced by them. However, the systematic explanation of the Śaiva-Siddhântam[549] doesn't materially differ from the more poetic expressions found in the Tiruvaçagam. It acknowledges three separate entities: the Lord, the soul, and matter, but it tends (likely due to the influence of Vedânta) to downplay the existence of matter and to bring the soul into closer alignment with the Lord than its original formulations suggest. Matter is referred to as Mâyâ and is potentially contained in the Lord, who manifests it during the creative process that initiates each kalpa. The Lord is described as being both one with our souls and distinct from them. The soul is inherently ignorant and trapped in the illusion of Mâyâ and Karma, but through the Lord's grace, it achieves union (not identity) with him, recognizing that its actions are his actions.
In modern times Śaiva theology is represented among Dravidians by the works of Śivañânar (1785) and his disciple Kachiyappar: also by the poems of Râma-linga. Śivaism in Madras and other parts of southern India is still a vigorous and progressive Church which does not neglect European methods. Its principal organ is an interesting magazine called Siddhanta-Dipika or the Light of Truth. In northern India the Śivaites are less distinct as a body and have less organization, but temples to Śiva are numerous and perhaps the majority of Brahmans and ascetics regard him as their special deity and read Śivaite rather than Vishnuite texts. But it is probably also true that they are not sectarian in the same sense as the worshippers of Kṛishṇa.
In modern times, Śaiva theology among Dravidians is represented by the works of Śivañânar (1785) and his disciple Kachiyappar, along with the poems of Râma-linga. Śivaism in Madras and other parts of southern India continues to be a vibrant and progressive Church that embraces European methods. Its main publication is an engaging magazine called Siddhanta-Dipika or the Light of Truth. In northern India, the Śivaites are less distinct as a group and have less organization, but there are many temples dedicated to Śiva, and perhaps most Brahmans and ascetics view him as their primary deity and prefer to read Śivaite texts over Vishnuite ones. However, it's likely true that they are not as sectarian as the worshippers of Kṛishṇa.
It is not easy to estimate the relative numbers of Śivaites and Vishnuites in south India, and good authorities hold [222] opposite views. The Śivaites are more united than the Vishnuites (whose many divisions and conspicuous sectarian marks attract attention) and are found chiefly among the upper classes and among ascetics, but perhaps there is much truth in an opinion which I once heard expressed by a Tamil Brahman, that the real division is not between the worshippers of Śiva and of Vishṇu, but between Smârtas, those who follow more or less strictly the ancient ritual observances and those who seek for salvation by devotion and in practice neglect the Sanskrit scriptures. There is little hostility. The worship of both gods is sometimes performed in the same building as at Chidambaram or in neighbouring shrines, as at Śrîrangam. In south Kanara and Travancore it is generally held that the two deities are of equal greatness and in many places are found images representing them united in one figure. But the great temples at Madura, Tinnevelly and Tanjore are all dedicated to Śiva or members of his family. If in the philosophical literature of the Siddhânta the purity of the theism taught is noticeable, in these buildings it is rather the rich symbolism surrounding the god which attracts attention. In his company are worshipped Parvatî, Gaṇeśa, Subrahmaṇya, the bull Nandi and minor attendants: he is shown leaping in the ecstacy of the dance and on temple walls are often depicted his sixty-four sports or miracles (lîlâ). For the imagination of the Dravidians he is a great rhythmic force, throbbing and exulting in all the works of nature and exhibiting in kindly playfulness a thousand antics and a thousand shapes.
It’s challenging to determine the relative numbers of Śivaites and Vishnuites in South India, and reputable sources have differing opinions [222]. The Śivaites tend to be more united than the Vishnuites, who have many divisions and obvious sectarian marks that draw attention. Śivaites are primarily found among the upper classes and ascetics, but there’s probably some truth to what a Tamil Brahman once told me: the real division isn’t between worshippers of Śiva and Vishṇu, but between Smârtas—those who follow traditional rituals closely—and those who seek salvation through devotion but often overlook the Sanskrit scriptures. There’s little hostility between the two groups. Worship of both gods can sometimes happen in the same space, like in Chidambaram or neighboring shrines such as Śrîrangam. In South Kanara and Travancore, it’s commonly believed that both deities are equally great, and many places have images of them represented as one figure. However, the major temples in Madura, Tinnevelly, and Tanjore are dedicated solely to Śiva or his family. While the philosophical literature of the Siddhânta emphasizes the purity of theism, these temples draw attention to the rich symbolism surrounding the god. Alongside Śiva are worshipped Parvatî, Gaṇeśa, Subrahmaṇya, the bull Nandi, and other minor attendants. He is often depicted in ecstatic dance, and temple walls frequently illustrate his sixty-four sports or miracles (lîlâ). For the Dravidians, he embodies a vibrant rhythmic force, pulsating with energy in all of nature’s works and playfully showcasing a thousand antics and forms.
4
Another school of Śivaite philosophy flourished in Kashmir[550] from the ninth century onwards and is not yet extinct among Pandits. It bases itself on the Âgamas and includes among them the still extant Śiva-sûtras said to have been discovered as revelation by Vasugupta. He lived about 800 A.D. and abandoned Buddhism for Śivaism. The school produced [223] a distinguished line of literary men who flourished from the ninth to the eleventh centuries.[551]
Another school of Shaivite philosophy thrived in Kashmir[550] from the ninth century onward and is still alive among Pandits. It is based on the Âgamas and includes the still-existing Shiva Sutras, which are said to have been revealed to Vasugupta. He lived around 800 A.D. and converted from Buddhism to Shaivism. The school produced [223] a notable group of literary figures who were active from the ninth to the eleventh centuries.[551]
The most recent authorities state that the Kashmir school is one and that there is no real opposition between the Spanda and Pratyabhijñâ sections.[552] The word Spanda, equivalent to the godhead and ultimate reality, is interesting for it means vibration accompanied by consciousness or, so to speak, self-conscious ether. The term Pratyabhijñâ or recognition is more frequent in the later writings. Its meaning is as follows. Śiva is the only reality and the soul is Śiva, but Mâyâ[553] forces on the soul a continuous stream of sensations. By the practice of meditation it is possible to interrupt the stream and in those moments light illuminates the darkness of the soul and it recognizes that it is Śiva, which it had forgotten. Also the world is wholly unreal apart from Śiva. It exists by his will and in his mind. What seems to the soul to be cognition is really recognition, for the soul (which is identical with the divine mind but blinded and obstructed) recognizes that which exists only in the divine mind.
The latest authorities claim that the Kashmir school is unified and that there isn't any true conflict between the Spanda and Pratyabhijñâ sections.[552] The term Spanda, which represents the divine and ultimate reality, is intriguing because it signifies a vibration coupled with consciousness, or, in other words, self-aware ether. The term Pratyabhijñâ, or recognition, is used more often in later texts. Its meaning is as follows: Śiva is the only reality, and the soul is Śiva, but Mâyâ[553] imposes a constant flow of sensations on the soul. Through meditation, one can disrupt this flow, and in those moments, light breaks through the darkness of the soul, allowing it to recognize that it is Śiva, which it had forgotten. Additionally, the world is entirely unreal apart from Śiva. It exists by his will and within his mind. What seems like cognition to the soul is actually recognition, as the soul (which is the same as the divine mind but is blinded and obstructed) perceives that which exists only in the divine mind.
It has been held that Kashmirian Śivaism is the parent of the Dravidian Śaiva Siddhânta and spread from Kashmir southwards by way of Kalyan in the eleventh century, and this hypothesis certainly receives support from the mention of Kashmiri Brahmans in south Indian inscriptions of the fourteenth century.[554] Yet I doubt if it is necessary to assume that south Indian Śivaism was derived from Kashmir, for the worship of Śiva must have been general long before the eleventh century[555] and Kashmiri Brahmans, far from introducing Śivaism to the south, are more likely to have gone thither because they were sure of a good reception, whereas they were exposed to Moslim [224] persecution in their own country. Also the forms which Śivaism assumed in these two outlying provinces present differences: in Kashmir it was chiefly philosophic, in the Dravidian countries chiefly religious. In the south it calls on God to help the sinner out of the mire, whereas the school of Kashmir, especially in its later developments, resembles the doctrine of Śankara, though its terminology is its own.
It has been suggested that Kashmiri Śivaism is the origin of Dravidian Śaiva Siddhânta and spread from Kashmir to the south through Kalyan in the eleventh century. This idea is supported by references to Kashmiri Brahmans in South Indian inscriptions from the fourteenth century.[554] However, I question whether it's necessary to assume that South Indian Śivaism came from Kashmir, since the worship of Śiva must have been widespread long before the eleventh century[555]. Kashmiri Brahmans likely went to the south expecting a warm welcome rather than introducing Śivaism there, as they faced Muslim persecution back home. Additionally, the two regions show differences in the way Śivaism is practiced: in Kashmir, it is mainly philosophical, while in the Dravidian regions, it is primarily religious. In the south, the prayers seek God's help for the sinner, while the Kashmiri perspective, especially in its later stages, is more aligned with the teachings of Śankara, even though it uses its own terminology.
Before the advent of Islam, Kashmir was a secluded but cultured land. Its pleasant climate and beautiful scenery, said to have been praised by Gotama himself,[556] attracted and stimulated thinkers and it had some importance in the history of Buddhism and of the Pâncarâtra as well as for Śivaism. It is connected with the Buddhist sect called Sarvâstivâdins and in this case the circumstances seem clear. The sect did not originate in Kashmir but its adherents settled there after attending the Council of Kanisḥka and made it into a holy land. Subsequently, first Vishnuism and then Śivaism[557] entered the mountain valleys and flourished there. Kashmirian thinkers may have left an individual impress on either system but they dealt with questions which had already been treated of by others and their contributions, though interesting, do not seem to have touched the foundations of belief or to have inspired popular movements. The essential similarity of all Śivaite schools is so great that coincidences even in details do not prove descent or borrowing and the special terms of Kashmirian philosophy, such as spanda and pratyabhijña, seem not to be used in the south.
Before the rise of Islam, Kashmir was a remote yet cultured region. Its pleasant climate and stunning scenery, which are said to have been admired by Gotama himself,[556] attracted and inspired thinkers and it held some significance in the history of Buddhism, the Pâncarâtra, and Śivaism. It is linked to the Buddhist sect known as the Sarvâstivâdins, and in this case, the circumstances are clear. The sect didn't start in Kashmir, but its followers settled there after participating in the Council of Kanisḥka, making it a sacred land. Later, both Vishnuism and then Śivaism[557] made their way into the mountain valleys and thrived. Kashmiri thinkers may have left a unique mark on either system, but they addressed questions that had already been explored by others, and their contributions, while interesting, don’t seem to have affected the core beliefs or sparked popular movements. The basic similarity among all Śivaite schools is so significant that coincidences, even in specifics, don’t indicate lineage or borrowing, and the unique terms of Kashmiri philosophy, like spanda and pratyabhijña, don’t appear to be used in the south.
The Śiva-sûtras consist of three sections, describing three methods of attaining svacchanda or independence. One (the gist of which has been given above) displays some though not great originality: the second is Śâktist, the third follows the ordinary prescriptions of the Yoga. All Śivaite philosophy is really based on this last and teaches the existence of matter, souls and a deity, manifested in a series of phases. The relations of these three ultimates are variously defined, and they may be identified with one another, for the Sânkhya-Yoga doctrine may be [225] combined (though not very consistently) with the teaching of the Vedânta. In Kashmirian Śivaism Vedântist influences seem strong and it even calls itself Advaita. It is noteworthy that Vasugupta, who discovered the Śiva-sûtras, also wrote a commentary on the Bhagavad-gîtâ.
The Śiva-sûtras have three parts that outline three ways to achieve svacchanda or independence. One section (the main idea of which is outlined above) shows some originality, though it’s not very significant; the second focuses on Śâktism, and the third adheres to traditional Yoga practices. All of Śivaite philosophy essentially stems from this last section, which teaches about the existence of matter, souls, and a deity, appearing in various stages. The relationships among these three elements are defined in different ways, and they can be interconnected since the Sânkhya-Yoga system can be [225] combined (though not very consistently) with Vedânta teachings. In Kashmirian Śivaism, the influence of Vedântist ideas appears to be strong, even identifying itself as Advaita. It’s interesting to note that Vasugupta, who discovered the Śiva-sûtras, also wrote a commentary on the Bhagavad-gîtâ.
The gist of the matter is that, since a taste for speculation is far more prevalent in India than in Europe, there exist many systems of popular philosophy which, being a mixture of religion and metaphysics, involve two mental attitudes. The ordinary worshipper implores the Lord to deliver him from the bondage of sin and matter: the philosopher and saint wish to show that thought is one and such ideas as sin and matter partial and illusory. The originality of the Śaiva Siddhânta lies less in its dogmas than in its devotional character: in the feeling that the soul is immersed in darkness and struggles upwards by the grace of the Lord, so that the whole process of Karma and Mâyâ is really beneficent.
The main point is that, since speculation is much more common in India than in Europe, there are many systems of popular philosophy that blend religion and metaphysics, reflecting two different mindsets. The typical worshiper asks the Lord to free him from the chains of sin and material existence, while the philosopher and saint aim to demonstrate that thought is unified and concepts like sin and matter are partial and illusory. The uniqueness of the Śaiva Siddhânta lies more in its devotional nature than in its beliefs: it captures the idea that the soul is trapped in darkness and strives to rise through the Lord's grace, making the entire process of Karma and Mâyâ ultimately positive.
5
As already mentioned Śivaism has an important though unorthodox offshoot in the Lingâyats[558] or Lingavants. It appears that they originated at Kalyan (now in the Nizam's dominions) at the time when a usurper named Bijjala (1156-1167) had seized the throne of the Chalukyas. Their founder was Basava (the vernacular form of Vrishabha) assisted by his nephew Channabasava,[559] whose exploits and miracles are recorded in two Purâṇas composed in Kanarese and bearing their respective names. According to one story Bijjala, who was a Jain, persecuted the Lingâyats and was assassinated by them. But there are other versions and the early legends of the sect merit little credence. The Lingâyats are Puritans. They reject caste, the supremacy of the Brahmans, sacrifices and other rites, and all the later Brahmanic literature. In theory they reverence the Vedas but practically the two Purâṇas mentioned are their [226] sacred books.[560] They are strict vegetarians and teetotallers: they do not insist on child marriages nor object to the remarriage of widows. Their only object of worship is Śiva in the form of a lingam and they always carry one suspended round the neck or arm. It is remarkable that an exceptionally severe and puritanical sect should choose this emblem as its object of worship, but, as already observed, the lingam is merely a symbol of the creative force and its worship is not accomplished by indecent rites.[561] They hold that true Lingâyats are not liable to be defiled by births or deaths, that they cannot be injured by sorcery and that when they die their souls do not transmigrate but go straight to Śiva. No prayers for the dead are needed.
As already mentioned, Śivaism has an important but unorthodox offshoot in the Lingâyats[558] or Lingavants. They seem to have originated in Kalyan (now in the Nizam's territory) when a usurper named Bijjala (1156-1167) took the Chalukyan throne. Their founder was Basava (the local version of Vrishabha), supported by his nephew Channabasava,[559] whose achievements and miracles are documented in two Purâṇas written in Kannada that bear their names. According to one story, Bijjala, who was a Jain, persecuted the Lingâyats and was killed by them. However, there are other accounts, and the early legends of the sect are not very reliable. The Lingâyats are Puritans. They reject caste, the dominance of the Brahmins, sacrifices and other rituals, as well as later Brahmanic literature. In theory, they respect the Vedas, but in practice, the two mentioned Purâṇas are their [226] sacred texts.[560] They are strict vegetarians and abstain from alcohol: they don’t support child marriages nor object to widows remarrying. Their sole object of worship is Śiva in the form of a lingam, which they always carry suspended around their neck or arm. It’s noteworthy that a particularly strict and puritanical sect would choose this symbol as their focus of worship, but, as previously mentioned, the lingam merely represents the creative force, and its veneration does not involve inappropriate practices.[561] They believe that true Lingâyats cannot be tainted by births or deaths, that they are immune to sorcery, and that when they die, their souls do not reincarnate but go directly to Śiva. No prayers for the deceased are necessary.
Though trustworthy details about the rise of the Lingâyats are scarce, we can trace their spiritual ancestry. They present in an organized form the creed which inspired Paṭṭaṇaṭṭu Piḷḷai in the tenth century. About a hundred years later came Râmânuja who founded a great Vishnuite Church and it is not surprising if the Śivaites followed this example, nor if the least orthodox party became the most definitely sectarian.
Though reliable information about the rise of the Lingâyats is limited, we can trace their spiritual roots. They present an organized version of the beliefs that inspired Paṭṭaṇaṭṭu Piḷḷai in the tenth century. About a hundred years later, Râmânuja founded a significant Vishnuite Church, so it’s not surprising that the Śivaites followed suit, nor that the least orthodox group became the most distinctly sectarian.
The sectarian impulse which is conspicuous after the eleventh century was perhaps stimulated by the example of Mohammedanism. There was little direct doctrinal influence, but a religious people like the Hindus can hardly have failed to notice the strength possessed by an association worshipping one god of its own and united by one discipline. Syrian Christianity also might have helped to familiarize the Lingâyats with the idea of a god not to be represented by images or propitiated by sacrifices, but there is no proof that it was prevalent in the part of the Deccan where they first appeared.
The sectarian urge that became prominent after the eleventh century may have been encouraged by the example of Islam. There wasn't much direct influence on beliefs, but a religious group like the Hindus likely noticed the power that comes from a community that worships a single god and follows a unified set of practices. Syrian Christianity might have also introduced the Lingâyats to the concept of a god who shouldn’t be depicted by images or appeased with sacrifices, but there’s no evidence that it was widespread in the region of the Deccan where they first emerged.
The Lingâyats spread rapidly after Basava's death.[562] They still number about two millions and are to be found in most Kanarese-speaking districts. They are easily recognizable for all carry the lingam, which is commonly enclosed in a red scarf [227] worn round the neck or among the richer classes in a silver-box. It is made of grey soapstone and a Lingâyat must on no account part with it for a moment. They are divided into the laity and the Jangams or priests. Some of these marry but others are itinerant ascetics who wander over India frequenting especially the five Simhâsanas or Lingâyat sees.[563] They are treated with extreme respect by the laity and sometimes wear fantastic costumes such as plates resembling armour or little bells which announce their approach as they walk.
The Lingâyats grew quickly after Basava's death.[562] They currently number around two million and can be found in most Kanarese-speaking areas. They are easily recognized because they all carry a lingam, which is usually wrapped in a red scarf [227] worn around the neck or, among wealthier individuals, kept in a silver box. The lingam is made of grey soapstone, and a Lingâyat must never part with it, even for a moment. They are divided into the laity and the Jangams or priests. Some of the Jangams marry, while others are wandering ascetics who travel throughout India, especially visiting the five Simhâsanas or Lingâyat sees.[563] They are regarded with great respect by the laity and sometimes wear elaborate costumes such as armor-like plates or little bells that jingle as they walk.
In doctrine the Lingâyats remain faithful to their original tenets and do not worship any god or goddess except Śiva in the form of the Lingam, though they show respect to Gaṇeśa, and other deities as also to the founder of their sect. But in social matters it is agreed by all observers that they show a tendency to reintroduce caste and to minimize the differences separating them from more orthodox sects. According to Basava's teaching all members of the community both men and women are equal. But though converts from all castes are still accepted, it was found at the last census that well-to-do Lingâyats were anxious to be entered under the name of Vîraśaiva Brahmans, Kshatriyas, etc., and did not admit that caste distinctions are obliterated among them. Similarly though the remarriage of widows is not forbidden there is a growing tendency to look at it askance.
In their beliefs, the Lingâyats stay true to their original principles and only worship Śiva in the form of the Lingam, though they do show respect for Gaṇeśa and other deities, as well as the founder of their sect. However, all observers agree that socially they tend to bring back caste distinctions and downplay the differences that set them apart from more traditional sects. According to Basava's teachings, all members of the community, both men and women, are equal. But while they continue to accept converts from all castes, the last census revealed that affluent Lingâyats preferred to identify themselves as Vîraśaiva Brahmans, Kshatriyas, etc., indicating that caste distinctions are still present among them. Similarly, even though widow remarriage is not outright banned, there is a growing tendency to view it negatively.
FOOTNOTES:
[513] This is the generally accepted date and does not appear to conflict with anything else that is at present known of Śankara. An alternative suggestion is some date between 590 and 650 (see Telang, I.A. XIII. 1884, p. 95 and Fleet, I.A. XVI. 1887, p. 41). But in this case, it is very strange that I-Ching does not mention so conspicuous an enemy of the Buddhists. It does not seem to me that the use of Pûṛnavarman's name by Śankara in an illustration (Comm. on Vedanta Sut. II. i. 17) necessarily implies they were contemporaries, but it does prove that he cannot have lived before Pûṛnavarman.
[513] This is the generally accepted date and doesn’t seem to clash with what we currently know about Śankara. Another possibility is a date somewhere between 590 and 650 (see Telang, I.A. XIII. 1884, p. 95 and Fleet, I.A. XVI. 1887, p. 41). However, it’s odd that I-Ching doesn’t mention such a prominent opponent of the Buddhists. I don’t think the mention of Pûṛnavarman’s name by Śankara in an example (Comm. on Vedanta Sut. II. i. 17) necessarily means they lived at the same time, but it does show that he couldn’t have existed before Pûṛnavarman.
[514] Another tradition says he was born at Chidambaram, but the temple at Badrinath in the Himalayas said to have been founded by him has always been served by Nambuthiri Brahmans from Malabar. In 1910 a great temple erected in his honour was consecrated at Kaladi.
[514] Another story claims he was born in Chidambaram, but the temple at Badrinath in the Himalayas, which is said to have been established by him, has always been maintained by Nambuthiri Brahmans from Malabar. In 1910, a significant temple dedicated to him was consecrated in Kaladi.
[516] They are called Daśanâmis which merely means that each ascetic bears one or other of ten surnames (Sarswati, Bharati, Tirtha, etc.). See for a further account of them Jogendra Nath Bhattacharya, Hindu Castes and Sects, pp. 374-379.
[516] They are known as Daśanâmis, which simply means that each ascetic has one of ten surnames (Sarswati, Bharati, Tirtha, etc.). For more information about them, see Jogendra Nath Bhattacharya, Hindu Castes and Sects, pp. 374-379.
The order in all its branches seems to have strong pantheistic inclinations. They mutter the formula Sivo'ham, I am Śiva.
The order in all its branches appears to have strong pantheistic tendencies. They quietly repeat the phrase Sivo'ham, I am Śiva.
[517] I have been told by south Indian Pandits that they think Śaṅkara was bom in a Bhâgavata family and that there is some evidence his kinsmen were trustees of a temple of Kṛishṇa. The Śâktas also claim him, but the tradition that he opposed the Śâktas is strong and probable. Many hymns addressed to Vishṇu, Śiva and various forms of Durgâ are attributed to him. I have not been able to discover what is the external evidence for their authenticity but hymns must have been popular in south India before the time of Śaṅkara and it is eminently probable that he did not neglect this important branch of composition.
[517] I’ve been told by South Indian scholars that they believe Śaṅkara was born into a Bhâgavata family and that there’s some evidence his relatives were caretakers of a Kṛishṇa temple. The Śâktas also claim him, but the tradition that he opposed the Śâktas is strong and likely. Many hymns dedicated to Vishṇu, Śiva, and various forms of Durgâ are attributed to him. I haven’t been able to find the external evidence for their authenticity, but hymns must have been popular in South India before Śaṅkara’s time, and it’s quite likely that he didn’t overlook this important type of composition.
[519] This maṭh has an endowment of about £5000 a year, instituted by the kings of Vijayanagar. The Guru is treated with great respect. His palankin is carried crossways to prevent anyone from passing him and he wears a jewelled head-dress, not unlike a papal tiara, and wooden shoes covered with silver. See an interesting account of Śringeri in J. Mythic Society (Bangalore), vol. VIII. pp. 18-33.
[519] This maṭh has an annual endowment of about £5000, established by the kings of Vijayanagar. The Guru is treated with great respect. His palanquin is carried sideways to prevent anyone from passing him, and he wears a jeweled headdress, similar to a papal tiara, along with wooden shoes covered in silver. See an interesting account of Śringeri in J. Mythic Society (Bangalore), vol. VIII. pp. 18-33.
Schrader in his catalogue of the Sanskrit MSS. in the Adyar Library, 1908, notices an Upanishad called Mahâmâyopanishad, ascribed to Śaṅkara himself, which deals with the special qualities of the four maṭhs. Each is described as possessing one Veda, one Mahâvâkyam, etc. The second part deals with the three ideal maṭhs, Sumeru, Paramâtman and Śâstrâthajnâna.
Schrader, in his catalog of the Sanskrit manuscripts at the Adyar Library in 1908, mentions an Upanishad called Mahâmâyopanishad, attributed to Śaṅkara himself, that discusses the unique features of the four maṭhs. Each one is described as having one Veda, one Mahâvâkyam, and so on. The second part talks about the three ideal maṭhs: Sumeru, Paramâtman, and Śâstrâthajnâna.
[520] There is some reason to suppose that the Maṭh of Sringeri was founded on the site of a Buddhist monastery. See Journal of Mythic Society, Bangalore, 1916, p. 151.
[520] There’s some reason to believe that the Maṭh of Sringeri was built on the location of an old Buddhist monastery. See Journal of Mythic Society, Bangalore, 1916, p. 151.
[522] The old folk-lore of Bengal gives a picture of Śiva, the peasant's god, which is neither Vedic nor Dravidian. See Dinesh Chandra Sen, Bengali Lang. and Lit. pp. 68 ff. and 239 ff.
[522] The traditional folklore of Bengal depicts Śiva, the god of farmers, in a way that's distinct from both Vedic and Dravidian influences. See Dinesh Chandra Sen, Bengali Lang. and Lit. pp. 68 ff. and 239 ff.
[523] J.R.A.S. 1899, p. 242.
[526] The early Brahmi inscriptions of southern India are said to be written in a Dravidian language with an admixture not of Sanskrit but of Pali words. See Arch. Survey India, 1911-12, Part I. p. 23.
[526] The early Brahmi inscriptions from southern India are said to be written in a Dravidian language that includes some Pali words instead of Sanskrit. See Arch. Survey India, 1911-12, Part I. p. 23.
[529] Except in the first chapter.
Except in the first chapter.
[534] Thus the catechism of the Śaiva religion by Sabhapati Mudaliyar (transl. Foulkes, 1863) after stating emphatically that the world is created also says that the soul and the world are both eternal. Also just as in the Bhagavad-gîtâ the ideas of the Vedanta and Sâṅkhya are incongruously combined, so in the Tiruvaçagam (e.g. Pope's edition, pp. 49 and 138) Śiva is occasionally pantheized. He is the body and the soul, existence and non-existence, the false and the true, the bond and the release.
[534] So, the catechism of the Śaiva religion by Sabhapati Mudaliyar (translated by Foulkes, 1863) clearly states that the world is created and also claims that both the soul and the world are eternal. Just like in the Bhagavad-gītā where the ideas of Vedanta and Sāṅkhya are strangely mixed, in the Tiruvaçagam (e.g., Pope's edition, pp. 49 and 138), Śiva is sometimes seen as pantheistic. He embodies the body and the soul, existence and non-existence, the false and the true, the bond and the release.
[535] E.g. Hymn vi.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ For example, Hymn vi.
[536] Pope's Tiruvaçagam, p. 257.
[538] Pope's Tiruvaçagam, p. 101.
[539] It does not seem to me that the legend of Śiva's drinking the hala-hala poison is really parallel to the sufferings of the Christian redeemer. At the most it is a benevolent exploit like many performed by Vishṇu.
[539] I don't think the story of Śiva drinking the hala-hala poison is truly comparable to the suffering of the Christian redeemer. At best, it's just a kind act like many done by Vishṇu.
[540] Although Śiva is said to have been many times incarnate (see for instance Catechism of the Shaiva religion, p. 20) he seems to have merely appeared in human form on special occasions and not to have been like Christ or Kṛishṇa a god living as a man from birth to death.
[540] Although it’s said that Śiva has incarnated many times (see for instance Catechism of the Shaiva religion, p. 20), he seems to have only appeared in human form on special occasions and wasn't like Christ or Kṛishṇa, who lived as a god from birth to death.
[541] The lines which seem most clearly to reflect Christian influence are those quoted by Caldwell from the Nana nuru in the introduction to his Comparative Grammar of the Dravidian languages, p. 127, but neither the date of the work nor the original of the quotation is given. This part of the introduction is omitted in the third edition.
[541] The lines that seem to show Christian influence the most are those quoted by Caldwell from the Nana nuru in the introduction to his Comparative Grammar of the Dravidian languages, p. 127, but the date of the work and the original source of the quotation are not provided. This part of the introduction is left out in the third edition.
[544] The Śaiva catechism translated by Foulkes says (p. 27) that Śiva revealed the Tiruvaçagam twice, first to Manikka-Vaçagar and later to Tiru-Kovaiyar.
[544] The Śaiva catechism translated by Foulkes states (p. 27) that Śiva revealed the Tiruvaçagam twice, first to Manikka-Vaçagar and then to Tiru-Kovaiyar.
[545] Sanskrit, Siddha.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Sanskrit, Siddha.
[546] Space forbids me to quote the Śiva-vâkyam and Paṭṭaṇaṭṭu Piḷḷai, interesting as they are. The reader is referred to Gover, Folk-Songs of southern India, 1871, a work which is well worth reading.
[546] I can’t quote the Śiva-vâkyam and Paṭṭaṇaṭṭu Piḷḷai due to space limitations, but they’re really intriguing. I recommend checking out Gover’s Folk-Songs of Southern India, published in 1871; it’s definitely worth a read.
[550] For the Kashmir school see Barnett in Muséon, 1909, pp. 271-277. J.R.A.S. 1910, pp. 707-747. Kashmir Sanskrit series, particularly vol. II. entitled Kashmir Śaivism. The Śiva sûtras and the commentary Vimar'sinî translated in Indian Thought, 1911-12. Also Srinivasa Iyengar, Outlines of Indian Philosophy, pp. 168-175 and Sarva-darśana-saṅgraha, chap. VIII.
[550] For the Kashmir school, see Barnett in Muséon, 1909, pp. 271-277. J.R.A.S. 1910, pp. 707-747. Kashmir Sanskrit series, especially vol. II, titled Kashmir Śaivism. The Śiva sûtras and the commentary Vimar'sinî translated in Indian Thought, 1911-12. Also, Srinivasa Iyengar, Outlines of Indian Philosophy, pp. 168-175 and Sarva-darśana-saṅgraha, chap. VIII.
[551] Among them may be mentioned Kallata, author of the Spanda Kârikâs and Somânanda of the Śivadṛishti, who both flourished about 850-900. Utpala, who composed the Pratyabhijñâ-kârikâs, lived some fifty years later, and in the eleventh century Abhinava Gupta and Kshemarâja composed numerous commentaries.
[551] Among those are Kallata, who wrote the Spanda Kârikâs, and Somânanda of the Śivadṛishti, both of whom thrived around 850-900. Utpala, who created the Pratyabhijñâ-kârikâs, lived about fifty years later, and in the eleventh century, Abhinava Gupta and Kshemarâja wrote many commentaries.
[552] Kashmirian Śaivism is often called Trika, that is tripartite, because, like other varieties, it treats of three ultimates Śiva, Śakti, Anu or Pati, Paśu, Pâśa. But it has a decided tendency towards monism.
[552] Kashmiri Śaivism is often referred to as Trika, which means tripartite, because, like other forms, it discusses three ultimate concepts: Śiva, Śakti, and Anu or Pati, Paśu, Pâśa. However, it leans more towards monism.
[555] To say nothing of Śivaite temples like the Kailas at Ellora, the chief doctrines and even the terminology of Śivaite philosophy are mentioned by Śankara on Ved. Sutras, II. 2. 37.
[555] Not to mention Śivaite temples like the Kailas at Ellora, the main teachings and even the language of Śivaite philosophy are referenced by Śankara in the Ved. Sutras, II. 2. 37.
[556] In the Samyuktavastu, chap. XL. (transl. in J.A. 1914, II. pp. 534, etc.) the Buddha is represented as saying that Kashmir is the best land for meditation and leading a religious life.
[556] In the Samyuktavastu, chap. XL. (transl. in J.A. 1914, II. pp. 534, etc.) the Buddha describes Kashmir as the ideal place for meditation and a spiritual life.
[557] Chatterji, Kashmir Śaivism, p. 11, thinks that Abhinava Gupta's Paramârthasâra, published by Barnett, was an adaptation of older verses current in India and called the Âdhâra Kârikâs.
[557] Chatterji, Kashmir Śaivism, p. 11, suggests that Abhinava Gupta's Paramârthasâra, released by Barnett, was a revision of earlier verses that were popular in India and known as the Âdhâra Kârikâs.
[558] See Thurston, Castes and Tribes of southern India, s.v. vol. IV. pp. 236-291 and Gazetteer of the Bombay Presidency, vol. XXIII. article Bijapur, pp. 219-1884.
[558] See Thurston, Castes and Tribes of Southern India, s.v. vol. IV. pp. 236-291 and Gazetteer of the Bombay Presidency, vol. XXIII. article Bijapur, pp. 219-1884.
[559] An inscription found at Ablur in Dharwar also mentions Ramayya as a champion of Śivaite monotheism. He is perhaps the same as Channabasava. The Lingâyats maintain that Basava merely revived the old true religion of Śiva and founded nothing new.
[559] An inscription discovered at Ablur in Dharwar also refers to Ramayya as a supporter of Śivaite monotheism. He is possibly the same person as Channabasava. The Lingâyats argue that Basava simply revitalized the ancient true religion of Śiva and created nothing new.
[560] They have also a book called Prabhuling-lila, which is said to teach that the deity ought to live in the believer's soul as he lives in the lingam, and collections of early Kanarese sermons which are said to date from the thirteenth century.
[560] They also have a book called Prabhuling-lila, which teaches that the deity should reside in the believer's soul just as he lives in the lingam, along with collections of early Kanarese sermons that are believed to date back to the thirteenth century.
[562] Their creed is said to have been the state religion of the Wodeyars of Mysore (1399-1600) and of the Nayaks of Keladi, Ikken or Bednur (1550-1763).
[562] Their belief system is known to have been the official religion of the Wodeyars of Mysore (1399-1600) and the Nayaks of Keladi, Ikken, or Bednur (1550-1763).
[563] At Kadur, Ujjeni, Benares, Śrîsailam and Kedarnâth in the Himalayas. In every Lingâyat village there is a monastery affiliated to one of these five establishments. The great importance attached to monastic institutions is perhaps due to Jain influence.
[563] At Kadur, Ujjeni, Benares, Śrîsailam, and Kedarnâth in the Himalayas, every Lingâyat village has a monastery connected to one of these five places. The significant emphasis on monastic institutions may be influenced by Jain traditions.
CHAPTER XXIX
VISHNUISM IN SOUTH INDIA
1
Though Śivaism can boast of an imposing array of temples, teachers and scriptures in the north as well as in the south, yet Vishnuism was equally strong and after 1000 A.D. perhaps stronger. Thus Alberuni writing about north-western India in 1030 A.D. mentions Śiva and Durgâ several times incidentally but devotes separate chapters to Nârâyana and Vâsudeva; he quotes copiously from Vishnuite works[564] but not from sectarian Śivaite books. He mentions that the worshippers of Vishṇu are called Bhâgavatas and he frequently refers to Râma. It is clear that in giving an account of Vishnuism he considered that he had for all practical purposes described the religion of the parts of India which he knew.
Though Śivaism has a significant number of temples, teachers, and scriptures in both the north and south, Vishnuism was just as strong and perhaps even stronger after 1000 A.D. Alberuni, writing about north-western India in 1030 A.D., mentions Śiva and Durgâ several times but dedicates separate chapters to Nârâyana and Vâsudeva. He quotes extensively from Vishnuite texts but not from sectarian Śivaite ones. He notes that followers of Vishṇu are called Bhâgavatas and frequently references Râma. It’s clear that in his account of Vishnuism, he believed he had effectively described the religion of the regions in India he was familiar with.
In their main outlines the histories of Vishnuism and Śivaism are the same. Both faiths first assumed a definite form in northern India, but both flourished exceedingly when transplanted to the south and produced first a school of emotional hymn writers and then in a maturer stage a goodly array of theologians and philosophers as well as offshoots in the form of eccentric sects which broke loose from Brahmanism altogether. But Vishnuism having first spread from the north to the south returned from the south to the north in great force, whereas the history of Śivaism shows no such reflux.[565] Śivaism remained comparatively homogeneous, but Vishnuism gave birth from the eleventh century onwards to a series of sects or Churches still extant and forming exclusive though not mutually hostile associations. The chief Churches or Sampradâyas bear the names of Sanakâdi, Śrî, Brahmâ and Rudra. The first three were founded by Nimbâditya, Râmânuja and Madhva respectively. [229] The Rudra-sampradâya was rendered celebrated by Vallabha, though he was not its founder.
In general, the histories of Vishnuism and Śivaism are quite similar. Both religions took shape in northern India, but they thrived significantly when they spread to the south, leading to an initial wave of emotional hymn writers and later a diverse range of theologians and philosophers, along with some eccentric sects that broke away from Brahmanism completely. Vishnuism, after spreading from north to south, made a strong return to the north, while Śivaism did not experience such a resurgence. Śivaism remained relatively uniform, while Vishnuism gave rise to various sects or Churches starting from the eleventh century that still exist today, forming exclusive but not antagonistic groups. The main Churches or Sampradâyas are named Sanakâdi, Śrî, Brahmâ, and Rudra. The first three were established by Nimbâditya, Râmânuja, and Madhva, respectively. The Rudra-sampradâya became well-known through Vallabha, although he wasn't its founder.
The belief and practice of all Vishnuite sects alike is a modified monotheism, the worship of the Supreme Being under some such name as Râma or Vâsudeva. But the monotheism is not perfect. On the one hand it passes into pantheism: on the other it is not completely disengaged from mythology and in all sects the consort and attendants of the deity receive great respect, even if this respect is theoretically distinguished from adoration. Nearly all sects reject sacrifice in toto and make the basis of salvation emotional—namely devotion to the deity, and as a counterpart to this the chief characteristic of the deity is loving condescension or grace. The theological philosophy of each sect is nearly always, whatever name it may bear, a variety of the system known as Viśishṭâdvaita, or qualified monism, which is not unlike the Sâṅkhya-Yoga.[566] For Vishnuites as for Śivaites there exist God, the soul and matter, but most sects shrink from regarding them as entirely separate and bridge over the differences with various theories of emanations and successive manifestations of the deity. But for practical religion the soul is entangled in matter and, with the help of God, struggles towards union with him. The precise nature and intimacy of this union has given rise to as many subtle theories and phrases as the sacraments in Europe. Vishnuite sects in all parts of India show a tendency to recognize vernacular works as their scriptures, but they also attach great importance to the Upanishads, the Bhagavad-gîtâ, the Nârâyaṇîya and the Vedânta Sûtras. Each has a special interpretation of these last which becomes to some extent its motto.
The belief and practice of all Vishnuite sects is a modified form of monotheism, worshiping the Supreme Being under names like Râma or Vâsudeva. However, this monotheism isn't perfect. On one hand, it shifts towards pantheism; on the other, it remains connected to mythology, and in all sects, the consort and attendants of the deity receive significant respect, even if that respect is theoretically different from adoration. Almost all sects totally reject sacrifice and base salvation on emotional devotion to the deity, while a key characteristic of the deity is loving kindness or grace. The theological philosophy of each sect, regardless of what it’s called, is usually a variation of Viśishṭâdvaita, or qualified monism, which is similar to Sâṅkhya-Yoga. For Vishnuites, as well as Śivaites, there are God, the soul, and matter, but most sects hesitate to view them as completely separate and instead bridge the gaps with various theories of emanations and successive manifestations of the deity. In practical religion, the soul is caught up in matter and, with God's help, strives for unity with Him. The exact nature and closeness of this union have led to numerous subtle theories and phrases, similar to the sacraments in Europe. Vishnuite sects across India tend to recognize vernacular works as their scriptures, but they also place great importance on the Upanishads, the Bhagavad-gîtâ, the Nârâyaṇîya, and the Vedânta Sûtras. Each sect has a unique interpretation of these texts that becomes, in some way, its motto.
But these books belong to the relatively older literature. Many Vishnuite, or rather Krishnaite, works composed from the eighth century onwards differ from them in tone and give prominence to the god's amorous adventures with the Gopis and (still later) to the personality of Râdhâ. This ecstatic and sentimental theology, though found in all parts of India, is more prevalent in the north than in the south. Its great text-book is the Bhâgavata Purâṇa. The same spirit is found [230] in Jayadeva's Gîtâ-govinda, apparently composed in Bengal about 1170 A.D. and reproducing in a polished form the religious dramas or Yâtras in which the life of Kṛishṇa is still represented.
But these books are part of older literature. Many Vishnuite, or more specifically Krishnaite, works written from the eighth century onward have a different tone and focus on the god's romantic escapades with the Gopis and, later, the character of Râdhâ. This passionate and sentimental theology exists throughout India but is more common in the north than in the south. Its main text is the Bhâgavata Purâṇa. The same essence is present [230] in Jayadeva's Gîtâ-govinda, which was likely written in Bengal around 1170 A.D. and elegantly captures the religious dramas or Yâtras that depict the life of Kṛishṇa.
2
The sect[567] founded by Nimbârka or Nimbâditya has some connection with this poem. Its chief doctrine is known as dvaitâdvaitamata, or dualistic non-duality, which is explained as meaning that, though the soul and matter are distinct from God, they are yet as intimately connected with him as waves with water or the coils of a rope with the rope itself. This doctrine is referred to in the religious drama called Prabodhacandrodaya, probably composed at the end of the eleventh century. The Nimâvats, as the adherents of the sect are called, are found near Muttra and in Bengal. It is noticeable that this sect, which had its origin in northern India, is said to have been persecuted by the Jains[568] and to have been subsequently revived by a teacher called Nivâsa. This may explain why in the twelfth century Vishnuism flourished in the south rather than in the north.[569] Less is known of the Nimbârkas than of the other sects. They worship Kṛishṇa and Râdhâ and faith in Kṛishṇa is said to be the only way to salvation. Kṛishṇa was the deity of the earliest bhakti-sects. Then in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries there was a reaction in favour of Râma as a more spiritual deity, but subsequently Vallabha and Caitanya again made the worship of Kṛishṇa popular. Nimbârka expressed his views in a short commentary on the Vedânta Sûtras and also in ten verses containing a compendium of doctrine.[570]
The sect[567] founded by Nimbârka or Nimbâditya has some connection with this poem. Its main belief is called dvaitâdvaitamata, or dualistic non-duality, which means that, although the soul and matter are separate from God, they are still closely linked to Him like waves are to water or the coils of a rope are to the rope itself. This belief is mentioned in the religious drama called Prabodhacandrodaya, likely written at the end of the eleventh century. The followers of this sect, known as the Nimâvats, are found near Muttra and in Bengal. It's notable that this sect, which began in northern India, is said to have faced persecution from the Jains[568] and was later revived by a teacher named Nivâsa. This might explain why in the twelfth century, Vishnuism thrived in the south rather than in the north.[569] Less is known about the Nimbârkas compared to other sects. They worship Kṛishṇa and Râdhâ, and belief in Kṛishṇa is said to be the only path to salvation. Kṛishṇa was the deity of the earliest bhakti sects. Then in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, there was a shift towards Râma as a more spiritual deity, but later Vallabha and Caitanya made the worship of Kṛishṇa popular again. Nimbârka shared his ideas in a brief commentary on the Vedânta Sûtras and also in ten verses that summarize his doctrine.[570]
3
As among the Śivaites, so among the Vishnuites of the south, history begins with poet-saints. They are called the twelve Âr̤vârs.[571] For the three earliest no historical basis has been found, but the later ones seem to be real personalities. The most revered of them is Namm'âr̤vâr also called Sathagopa, whose images and pictures may be seen everywhere in south India and receive the same reverence as figures of the gods.[572] He may have lived in the seventh or eighth century A.D.[573]
As with the Śivaites, the history of the Vishnuites in the south also starts with poet-saints. They are known as the twelve Âr̤vârs.[571] For the first three, there isn't any historical evidence, but the later ones appear to be actual figures. The most honored among them is Namm'âr̤vâr, also known as Sathagopa, whose images and depictions can be found everywhere in south India and are given the same respect as the gods.[572] He might have lived in the seventh or eighth century A.D.[573]
The chronology of the Âr̤vârs is exceedingly vague but if the praises of Śiva were sung by poet-saints in the seventh century, it is probable that the Vishṇu worshippers were not behindhand. Two circumstances argue a fairly early date. First Nâthamuni is said to have arranged the hymns of the Âr̤vârs and he probably lived about 1000 A.D. Therefore the Âr̤vârs must have become classics by this date. Secondly the Bhâgavata Purâṇa[574] says that in the Kali age the worshippers of Nârâyaṇa will be numerous in the Dravidian country, though in other parts found only here and there, and that those who drink the water of the Kaveri and other southern rivers will mostly be devotees of Vâsudeva. This passage must have been written after a Vishnuite movement had begun in the Dravidian country.[575]
The timeline of the Âr̤vârs is pretty unclear, but if the praises of Śiva were being sung by poet-saints in the seventh century, it’s likely that the Vishṇu worshippers were also active around that time. Two points suggest an earlier date. First, Nâthamuni is said to have organized the hymns of the Âr̤vârs, and he likely lived around 1000 A.D. This means the Âr̤vârs must have been recognized as classics by then. Second, the Bhâgavata Purâṇa[574] states that in the Kali age, worshippers of Nârâyaṇa will be numerous in the Dravidian region, while in other areas they will be scattered, and that most people who drink the water of the Kaveri and other southern rivers will be devotees of Vâsudeva. This passage must have been written after a Vishnuite movement began in the Dravidian region.[575]
The hymns attributed to the Âr̤vârs are commonly known by the name of Prabandham or Nâlâyiram and are accepted by the Tengalai Vishnuites as their canonical scriptures. The whole collection contains 4000 verses arranged in four parts[576] and an [232]extract consisting of 602 verses selected for use in daily worship is in part accessible.[577] This poetry shows the same ecstatic devotion and love of nature as the Tiruvaçagam. It contemplates the worship of images and a temple ritual consisting in awakening the god at morning and attending on him during the day. It quotes the Upanishads and Bhagavad-gîtâ, assumes as a metaphysical basis a vedantized form of the Sâṅkhya philosophy, and also accepts the legends of the pastoral Kṛishṇa but without giving much detail. Jains, Buddhists and Śaivas are blamed and the repetition of the name Govinda is enjoined. Though the hymns are not anti-brahmanic they decidedly do not contemplate a life spent in orthodox observances and their reputed authors include several Śûdras, a king and a woman.
The hymns credited to the Âr̤vârs are commonly referred to as Prabandham or Nâlâyiram and are recognized by the Tengalai Vishnuites as their sacred texts. This entire collection contains 4000 verses divided into four parts[576] and an [232]extract with 602 selected verses intended for daily worship is partially available.[577] This poetry expresses the same intense devotion and appreciation for nature as the Tiruvaçagam. It explores the worship of idols and a temple ritual that involves waking the deity in the morning and attending to them throughout the day. It cites the Upanishads and Bhagavad-gîtâ, relies on a vedantized version of Sâṅkhya philosophy as its metaphysical foundation, and also includes references to the stories of the pastoral Kṛishṇa, though without much detail. Jains, Buddhists, and Śaivas are criticized, and the repetition of the name Govinda is encouraged. While the hymns are not against Brahmins, they clearly do not promote a life devoted to orthodox practices, and their known authors include several Śûdras, a king, and a woman.
After the poet-saints came the doctors and theologians. Accounts of them, which seem historical in the main though full of miraculous details, are found in the Tamil biographies[578] illustrating the apostolic succession of teachers. It appears fairly certain that Râmânuja, the fourth in succession, was alive in 1118: the first, known as Nâthamuni, may therefore have lived 100-150 years earlier. None of his works are extant but he is said to have arranged the poems of the Âr̤vârs for recitation in temple services. He went on a pilgrimage to northern India and according to tradition was an adept in Yoga, being one of the last to practise it in the south. Third in succession was his grandson Yamunârcârya (known as Âlavandâr or victor), who spent the first part of his life as a wealthy layman but was converted and resided at Śrîrangam. Here he composed several important works in Sanskrit including one written to establish the orthodoxy of the Pâncarâtra and its ritual.[579]
After the poet-saints came the scholars and theologians. Stories about them, which seem mostly historical but are filled with miraculous details, can be found in the Tamil biographies[578] illustrating the ongoing lineage of teachers. It appears fairly certain that Râmânuja, the fourth in line, was alive in 1118; the first, known as Nâthamuni, likely lived 100-150 years earlier. None of his works survive, but he is said to have organized the poems of the Âr̤vârs for recitation in temple services. He went on a pilgrimage to northern India and, according to tradition, was skilled in Yoga, being one of the last to practice it in the south. Third in line was his grandson Yamunârcârya (also known as Âlavandâr or victor), who spent the first part of his life as a wealthy layperson but was converted and lived at Śrîrangam. There, he composed several important works in Sanskrit, including one written to affirm the orthodoxy of the Pâncarâtra and its rituals.[579]
4
He was succeeded by Râmânuja, a great name in Indian theology both as the organizer of a most important sect and, if not the founder,[580] at least the accepted exponent of the Viśishṭâdvaita philosophy. Râmânuja was born at Śrîperum-budur[581] near Madras, where he is still commemorated by a celebrated shrine. As a youth he studied Śivaite philosophy at Conjeevaram but abandoned it for Vishnuism. He appears to have been a good administrator. He made the definitive collection of the hymns of the Âr̤vârs and is said to have founded 700 maṭhs and 89 hereditary abbotships, for he allowed the members of his order to marry. He visited northern India, including Kashmir if tradition may be believed, but his chief residence was Śrîrangam. Towards the end of the eleventh century however, the hostility of the Chola King Kulottunga, who was an intolerant Śivaite, forced him to retire to Mysore. Here he was protected by King Viṭṭala Deva whom he converted from Jainism and on the death of Kulottunga in 1118 he returned to Śrîrangam where he ended his days. In the temple there his tomb and a shrine where his image receives divine honours may still be seen. His best known work[582] is the Śrî Bhâshya or commentary on the Vedânta sûtras.
He was succeeded by Râmânuja, a prominent figure in Indian theology known for organizing a significant sect and, if not the founder, at least the recognized advocate of the Viśishṭâdvaita philosophy. Râmânuja was born in Śrîperum-budur near Madras, where he is still honored by a famous shrine. As a young man, he studied Śivaite philosophy at Conjeevaram but later switched to Vishnuism. He seemed to have been a capable administrator, making a definitive collection of the hymns of the Âr̤vârs and is said to have established 700 maṭhs and 89 hereditary abbotships, permitting members of his order to marry. He traveled to northern India, including Kashmir according to tradition, but his main residence was Śrîrangam. Towards the end of the eleventh century, however, the hostility of the Chola King Kulottunga, who was an intolerant Śivaite, compelled him to retreat to Mysore. There, he was protected by King Viṭṭala Deva, whom he converted from Jainism, and after Kulottunga's death in 1118, he returned to Śrîrangam where he spent his final days. In the temple there, his tomb and a shrine where his image is honored can still be seen. His most famous work is the Śrî Bhâshya or commentary on the Vedânta sûtras.
The sect which he founded is known as the Śrî Sampradâya and its members as the Śrî Vaishṇavas. As among the Śivaites revelation is often supposed to be made by Śiva through Śakti, so here the Lord is said to have revealed the truth to his consort Śrî or Lakshmî, she to a demigod called Visvaksena, and he to Namm'âr̤vâr, from whom Râmânuja was eighth in spiritual descent. Though the members of the sect are sometimes called Ramaites the personality of Râma plays a small part in their faith, especially as expounded by Râmânuja. As names for the deity he uses Nârâyaṇa and Vâsudeva and he quotes freely [234] from the Bhagavad-gîtâ and the Vishṇu Purâṇa. Compared with the emotional deism of Caitanya this faith seems somewhat philosophic and reticent.
The group he started is called the Śrî Sampradâya, and its members are known as the Śrî Vaishṇavas. Just as among the Śivaites, revelation is often thought to come from Śiva through Śakti, here it is believed that the Lord revealed the truth to his partner Śrî or Lakshmî, who then passed it on to a demigod named Visvaksena, and then to Namm'âr̤vâr, from whom Râmânuja is the eighth in spiritual lineage. While the sect members are sometimes referred to as Ramaites, the figure of Râma plays a minor role in their beliefs, especially as explained by Râmânuja. He refers to the deity as Nârâyaṇa and Vâsudeva and often quotes [234] from the Bhagavad-gîtâ and the Vishṇu Purâṇa. Compared to the emotional spirituality of Caitanya, this faith appears more philosophical and reserved.
Râmânuja clearly indicates its principal points in the first words of his Śrî Bhâshya. "May my mind be filled with devotion towards the highest Brahman, the abode of Lakshmî; who is luminously revealed in the Upanishads: who in sport produces, sustains and reabsorbs the entire universe: whose only aim is to foster the manifold classes of beings that humbly worship him."[583] He goes on to say that his teaching is that of the Upanishads, "which was obscured by the mutual conflict of manifold opinions," and that he follows the commentary of Bodhâyana and other teachers who have abridged it.
Râmânuja clearly states his main points in the opening lines of his Śrî Bhâshya. "May my mind be filled with devotion towards the highest Brahman, the home of Lakshmî; who is brightly revealed in the Upanishads: who playfully creates, sustains, and reabsorbs the entire universe: whose only goal is to support the various classes of beings that humbly worship him."[583] He continues by saying that his teaching aligns with the Upanishads, "which was clouded by the conflicting opinions of many," and that he follows the commentary of Bodhâyana and other teachers who have summarized it.
That is to say, the form of Vishnuism which Râmânuja made one of the principal religions of India claims to be the teaching of the Upanishads, although he also affiliates himself to the Bhâgavatas. He interprets the part of the Vedânta Sûtras which treats of this sect[584] as meaning that the author states and ultimately disallows the objections raised to their teaching and he definitely approves it. "As it is thus settled that the highest Brahman or Nârâyaṇa himself is the promulgator of the entire Pâncarâtra and that this system teaches the nature of Nârâyaṇa and the proper way of worshipping him, none can disestablish the view that in the Pâncarâtra all the other doctrines are comprised."[585]
That is to say, the form of Vishnuism that Râmânuja established as one of the main religions of India claims to be based on the teachings of the Upanishads, although he also aligns himself with the Bhâgavatas. He interprets the section of the Vedânta Sûtras that addresses this sect[584] as stating and ultimately dismissing the objections to their teachings, and he expresses clear approval of it. "Since it is established that the highest Brahman or Nârâyaṇa himself is the originator of the entire Pâncarâtra and this system teaches the nature of Nârâyaṇa and the proper way to worship him, no one can refute the belief that the Pâncarâtra encompasses all other doctrines."[585]
The true tradition of the Upanishads he contends has been distorted by "manifold opinions," among which the doctrine of Śaṅkara was no doubt the chief. That doctrine was naturally distasteful to devotional poets, and from the time of Nâthamuni onwards a philosophic reaction against it grew up in Śrîrangam. Râmânuja preaches the worship of a loving God, though when we read that God produces and reabsorbs the universe in sport, we find that we are farther from Christianity than we at first supposed. There is a touch of mythology in the mention of Lakshmî[586] but it is clear that Râmânuja himself had little liking for mythology. He barely mentions Râma and Kṛishṇa in the Śri Bhâshya nor does he pay much attention to the consort of [235] the deity. On the other hand he shows no sign of rejecting the ritual and regulations of the Brahmans. He apparently wished to prove that the doctrine of salvation by devotion to a personal god is compatible with a system as strictly orthodox as Śaṅkara's own.
The true tradition of the Upanishads, he argues, has been twisted by "various opinions," with Śaṅkara's doctrine being the main one. This doctrine was understandably unappealing to devotional poets, and starting from Nâthamuni, a philosophical reaction against it emerged in Śrîrangam. Râmânuja teaches the worship of a loving God, but when we read that God creates and reabsorbs the universe playfully, we realize we're further from Christianity than we initially thought. There's a hint of mythology in the mention of Lakshmî[586], but it's evident that Râmânuja himself wasn't fond of mythology. He barely mentions Râma and Kṛishṇa in the Śri Bhâshya and gives little attention to the deity's consort. On the other hand, he shows no signs of rejecting the rituals and regulations of the Brahmans. He seems to want to demonstrate that the doctrine of salvation through devotion to a personal god can coexist with a system as strictly orthodox as Śaṅkara's own.
I shall treat elsewhere of his philosophy, known as the Viśishṭâdvaita or non-duality, which yet recognizes a distinction between God and individual souls. The line of thought is old and at all periods is clearly a compromise, unwilling to deny that God is everything and yet dissatisfied with the idea that a personal deity and our individual transmigrating souls are all merely illusion. Devotional theism was growing in Râmânuja's time. He could not break with the Upanishads and Vedantic tradition but he adapted them to the needs of his day. He taught firstly that the material world and human souls are not illusion but so to speak the body of God who comprises and pervades them: secondly this God is omniscient, omnipresent, almighty and all-merciful, and salvation (that is mukti or deliverance from transmigration) is obtained by those souls who, assisted by his grace, meditate on him and know him; thirdly this salvation consists not in absorption into God but in blissful existence near him and in participation of his glorious qualities. He further held[587] that God exists in five modes, namely: (a) Para, the entire supreme spirit, (b) the fourfold manifestation as Vâsudeva, Saṅkarshaṇa, Pradyumna and Aniruddha, (c) incarnations such as Râma and Kṛishṇa, (d) the internal controller or Antaryâmin according to the text[588] "who abiding in the soul rules the soul within," (e) duly consecrated images.
I will discuss his philosophy, known as Viśishṭâdvaita or non-duality, elsewhere, which acknowledges a distinction between God and individual souls. This line of thought is ancient and, throughout history, represents a compromise: it does not deny that God is everything but is also unsatisfied with the idea that a personal deity and our individual transmigrating souls are just illusions. Devotional theism was on the rise during Râmânuja's time. He couldn't reject the Upanishads and Vedantic tradition but adapted them to the needs of his era. He taught, first, that the material world and human souls are not illusions but are, so to speak, the body of God, who encompasses and pervades them; second, that this God is all-knowing, everywhere present, all-powerful, and all-merciful, and that salvation (mukti or deliverance from the cycle of rebirth) is achieved by those souls who, with his grace, meditate on him and come to know him; third, that this salvation is not about merging into God but rather living happily in his presence and sharing in his glorious qualities. Additionally, he believed that God exists in five forms: (a) Para, the total supreme spirit, (b) the fourfold manifestation as Vâsudeva, Saṅkarshaṇa, Pradyumna, and Aniruddha, (c) incarnations like Râma and Kṛishṇa, (d) the internal controller or Antaryâmin, as stated in the text[588] "who abiding in the soul rules the soul within," and (e) properly consecrated images.
The followers of Râmânuja are at present divided into two schools known as Tengalais and Vadagalais, or southern and northern.[589] The double residence of the founder is one reason for the division, since both Mysore and Trichinopoly could claim to have personal knowledge of his teaching. The really important difference seems to be that the Tengalai or southern school is inclined to break away from Sanskrit tradition, to ignore the Vedas in practice and to regard the Tamil Nâlâyiram as an [236] all-sufficient scripture, whereas the Vadagalais, though not rejecting the Nâlâyiram, insist on the authority of the Vedas. But both divisions are scrupulous about caste observances and the ceremonial purity of their food. They are separated by nice questions of doctrine, especially as to the nature of prapatti, resignation or self-surrender to the deity, a sentiment slightly different from bhakti which is active faith or devotion. The northerners hold that the soul lays hold of the Lord, as the young monkey hangs on to its mother, whereas the southerners say that the Lord picks up the helpless and passive soul as a cat picks up a kitten.[590] According to the northerners, the consort of Vishṇu is, like him, uncreated and equally to be worshipped as a bestower of grace: according to the southerners she is created and, though divine, merely a mediator or channel of the Lord's grace. Even more important in popular esteem is the fact that the Vadagalai sectarian mark ends between the eyebrows whereas the Tengalais prolong it to the tip of the nose. Odium theologicum is often bitterest between the sects which are most nearly related and accordingly we find that the Tengalais and Vadagalais frequently quarrel. They use the same temples but in many places both claim the exclusive right to recite the hymns of the Âr̤vârs. The chief difference in their recitation lies in the opening verse in which each party celebrates the names of its special teachers, and disputes as to the legality of a particular verse in a particular shrine sometimes give rise to free fights and subsequent lawsuits.
The followers of Râmânuja are currently split into two groups known as Tengalais and Vadagalais, or southern and northern. The founder's dual residence is one reason for this split, as both Mysore and Trichinopoly can claim to have personal knowledge of his teachings. The key difference seems to be that the Tengalai or southern group tends to distance itself from Sanskrit tradition, often ignoring the Vedas in practice and viewing the Tamil Nâlâyiram as an all-sufficient scripture. In contrast, the Vadagalais, while not rejecting the Nâlâyiram, insist on the authority of the Vedas. However, both groups are careful about caste practices and the ritual purity of their food. They differ on fine theological points, especially regarding the nature of prapatti, or surrender to the deity, which is slightly different from bhakti, defined as active faith or devotion. Northerners believe that the soul grabs hold of the Lord like a young monkey clings to its mother, while Southerners argue that the Lord lifts the helpless and passive soul like a cat carries a kitten. According to the northerners, Vishṇu’s consort is uncreated and worthy of worship as a giver of grace; the southerners, however, see her as created and, while divine, merely a mediator of the Lord's grace. Even more significant in popular belief is the fact that the Vadagalai sectarian mark is placed between the eyebrows, while the Tengalais extend it to the tip of the nose. Religious disputes can often be most intense among sects that are closely related, so Tengalais and Vadagalais often find themselves at odds. They use the same temples, but in many locations, both groups claim the exclusive right to recite the hymns of the Âr̤vârs. The primary difference in their recitations lies in the opening verse, where each group celebrates its specific teachers, and disagreements over the legitimacy of a particular verse in a specific place of worship can sometimes lead to fights and subsequent lawsuits.
The two schools reckon the apostolic succession differently and appear to have separated in the thirteenth century, in which they were represented by Piḷḷai Lokâcârya and Vedânta Desika[591] respectively. The Tengalai, of which the first-named teacher [237] was the practical founder, must be regarded as innovators, for in their use of Tamil as the language of religion they do not follow the example of Râmânuja. Lokâcârya teaches that the grace of God is irresistible and should be met not merely by active faith, but by self-surrender,[592] and entire submission to the guidance of the spiritual teacher. He was the author of eighteen works called Rahasyas or secrets[593] but though he appears to have been the first to formulate the Tengalai doctrines, Manavala Mahâmuni (1370-1443 A.D.) is regarded by the sect as its chief saint. His images and pictures are frequent in south India and he wrote numerous commentaries and poems. Vedânta Desika, the founder of the Vadagalai, was a native of Conjeevaram but spent much of his life at Śrîrangam. He was a voluminous author and composed inter alia an allegorical play in ten acts, portraying the liberation of the soul under the auspices of King Viveka (discrimination) and Queen Sumati (Wisdom).
The two schools understand apostolic succession differently and seem to have split in the thirteenth century, represented by Piḷḷai Lokâcârya and Vedânta Desika respectively. The Tengalai, with Lokâcârya as its practical founder, should be seen as innovators because they use Tamil as the language of religion, unlike Râmânuja. Lokâcârya teaches that God's grace is irresistible and should be met with not just active faith, but also self-surrender and full submission to the guidance of a spiritual teacher. He authored eighteen works called Rahasyas or secrets, but even though he was the first to articulate the Tengalai doctrines, Manavala Mahâmuni (1370-1443 A.D.) is considered by the sect to be its main saint. His images and pictures are common in South India, and he wrote many commentaries and poems. Vedânta Desika, the founder of the Vadagalai, was from Conjeevaram but spent most of his life in Śrîrangam. He was a prolific author and wrote, among other things, an allegorical play in ten acts that depicts the liberation of the soul under the guidance of King Viveka (Discrimination) and Queen Sumati (Wisdom).
At the present day the two sects recognize as their respective heads two Âcâryas who are married, whereas all Smârta Âcâryas are celibates.[594] The Tengalai Âcârya resides near Tinnevelly, the Vadagalai in the district of Kurnool. They both make periodical visitations in their districts and have considerable ecclesiastical power. In the south Śrîrangam near Trichinopoly is their principal shrine: in the north Melucote in the Seringapatam district is esteemed very sacred.
Currently, the two sects recognize their respective leaders as two married Âcâryas, while all Smârta Âcâryas remain celibate.[594] The Tengalai Âcârya lives near Tinnevelly, and the Vadagalai is in the Kurnool district. They both make regular visits within their areas and hold significant religious authority. In the south, their main shrine is Śrîrangam near Trichinopoly, while in the north, Melucote in the Seringapatam district is highly regarded as sacred.
5
It was only natural that Râmânuja's advocacy of qualified non-duality should lead some more uncompromising spirit to affirm the doctrine of Dvaita or duality. This step was taken by Madhva Âcârya, a Kanarese Brahman who was probably born in 1199 A.D.[595] In the previous year the great temple of [238] Jagannatha at Puri had been completed and the Vishnuite movement was at its height. Madhva though educated as a Śaiva became a Vaishṇava. He denied absolutely the identity of the Supreme Being with the individual soul and held that the world is not a modification of the Lord but that he is like a father who begets a son. Yet in practice, rigid monotheism is not more prevalent among Madhva's followers than in other sects. They are said to tolerate the worship of Śivaite deities and of the lingam in their temples[596] and their ascetics dress like Śaivas.
It was only natural that Râmânuja's support for qualified non-duality would inspire someone with a more uncompromising approach to assert the doctrine of Dvaita or duality. This was done by Madhva Âcârya, a Brahman from Karnataka who was probably born in 1199 A.D.[595] The previous year, the grand temple of [238] Jagannatha at Puri had been completed, and the Vishnuite movement was at its peak. Although Madhva was educated as a Śaiva, he became a Vaishṇava. He completely rejected the idea that the Supreme Being is the same as the individual soul and believed that the world is not a modification of the Lord, but that He is like a father who begets a son. However, in practice, strict monotheism is not more common among Madhva's followers than in other sects. They are said to accept the worship of Śivaite deities and the lingam in their temples[596] and their ascetics dress like Śaivas.
Madhva travelled in both northern and southern India and had a somewhat troubled life, for his doctrine, being the flat contradiction of the Advaita, involved him in continual conflicts with the followers of Śaṅkara who are said to have even stolen his library. At any rate they anathematized his teaching with a violence unusual in Indian theology.[597] In spite of such lively controversy he found time to write thirty-seven works, including commentaries on the Upanishads, Bhagavad-gîtâ and Vedânta Sûtras. The obvious meaning of these texts is not that required by his system, but they are recognized by all Vaishṇavas as the three Prasthânas or starting-points of philosophy and he had to show that they supported his views. Hence his interpretation often seems forced and perverse. The most extraordinary instance of this is his explanation of the celebrated phrase [239] in the Chândogya Upanishad Sa âtmâ tat tvam asi. He reads Sa âtmâ atat tvam asi and considers that it means "You are not that God. Why be so conceited as to suppose that you are?"[598] Monotheistic texts have often received a mystical and pantheistic interpretation. The Old Testament and the Koran have been so treated by Kabbalists and Sufis. But in Madhva's commentaries we see the opposite and probably rarer method. Pantheistic texts are twisted until they are made to express uncompromising monotheism.
Madhva traveled throughout both northern and southern India and had a rather troubled life, as his teachings were a direct contradiction to Advaita, which led him to constant conflicts with followers of Śaṅkara, who allegedly even stole his library. Regardless, they condemned his teachings with an intensity that was unusual in Indian theology.[597] Despite the ongoing controversy, he managed to write thirty-seven works, including commentaries on the Upanishads, Bhagavad-gītā, and Vedānta Sūtras. The apparent meaning of these texts does not align with his system, but all Vaishṇavas recognize them as the three Prasthânas or foundational texts of philosophy, so he had to demonstrate that they supported his views. As a result, his interpretations often appear forced and distorted. The most remarkable example of this is his explanation of the famous phrase [239] in the Chândogya Upanishad: Sa âtmâ tat tvam asi. He interprets it as Sa âtmâ atat tvam asi and claims it means "You are not that God. Why be so arrogant as to think you are?"[598] Monotheistic texts have frequently received mystical and pantheistic interpretations. The Old Testament and the Koran have been interpreted this way by Kabbalists and Sufis. However, in Madhva's commentaries, we see the opposite and perhaps rarer approach. Pantheistic texts are manipulated until they convey a strict monotheism.
The sect is often called Brahma-sampradâya, because it claims that its doctrine was revealed by Brahmâ from whom Madhva was the sixth teacher in spiritual descent. Its members are known as Mâdhvas but prefer to call themselves Sad-Vaishṇavas. Its teaching seems more rigid and less emotional than that of other Vishnuites and is based on the Pancabheda or five eternal distinctions between (a) God and the soul, (b) God and matter, (c) the soul and matter, (d) individual souls, (e) individual atoms of matter. God is generally called Vishṇu or Nârâyaṇa rather than Vâsudeva. Kṛishṇa is adored but not in his pastoral aspect. Vishṇu and his spouse Lakshmî are real though superhuman personalities and their sons are Brahmâ the creator and Vâyu.[599] Peculiar to this sect is the doctrine that except through Vâyu, the son of Vishṇu, salvation is impossible. Vâyu has been three times incarnate as Hanumat, the helper of Râma, as Bhîma and as Madhva himself.[600] Souls are separate, innumerable and related to God as subjects to a king. They are of three classes: those who are destined to eternal bliss in the presence of God: those who revolve eternally in the maze of transmigration: and those who tending ever downwards are doomed to eternal suffering.
The sect is often referred to as Brahma-sampradâya because it claims its teachings were revealed by Brahmâ, from whom Madhva is considered the sixth teacher in a spiritual lineage. Its members are known as Mâdhvas but prefer to call themselves Sad-Vaishṇavas. Their teachings appear more strict and less emotional compared to other Vishnu followers and are based on the Pancabheda, or five eternal distinctions between (a) God and the soul, (b) God and matter, (c) the soul and matter, (d) individual souls, and (e) individual atoms of matter. God is typically referred to as Vishṇu or Nârâyaṇa rather than Vâsudeva. Kṛishṇa is revered but not in his pastoral role. Vishṇu and his wife Lakshmî are seen as real but superhuman figures, and their sons are Brahmâ the creator and Vâyu.[599] Unique to this sect is the belief that salvation is impossible except through Vâyu, the son of Vishṇu. Vâyu has incarnated three times: as Hanumat, the helper of Râma; as Bhîma; and as Madhva himself.[600] Souls are distinct, countless, and relate to God as subjects relate to a king. They fall into three categories: those destined for eternal bliss in God's presence, those who endlessly wander in the cycle of rebirth, and those who, always descending, are condemned to eternal suffering.
This last doctrine, as well as the doctrine of salvation through Vâyu, the wind or spirit, has led many to suspect that Madhva was influenced by Christian ideas, but it is more probable that he owed something to Islam. Such influence would no doubt be distant and indirect, for a Brahman would not come into contact with Moslim doctors, though it is said that Madhva could speak Persian.[601] But some Moslim ideas such as the absolute separation of God from the world and the predestination of souls to eternal happiness and misery may have entered Brahman minds. Still, nearly all Madhva's views (with the possible exception of eternal punishment) have Indian analogies. The Yoga teaches that there are innumerable souls distinct from one another and from God and though salvation through the spirit sounds Christian, yet the Upanishads constantly celebrate Vâyu (wind) and Prâṇa (breath) as the pervading principle of the world and the home of the self. "By the wind (Vâyu) as thread, O Gautama, this world and the other world and all creatures are bound together."[602] Thus the idea that the wind is the universal mediator is old and it does not seem that Madhva regarded Vâyu as a redeemer or expiation for sin like Christ.
This last belief, along with the idea of salvation through Vâyu, the wind or spirit, has led many to assume that Madhva was influenced by Christian ideas, but it’s more likely that he was influenced by Islam. Any such influence would probably be distant and indirect, as a Brahman wouldn’t typically interact with Muslim scholars, although it’s said that Madhva could speak Persian.[601] However, some Muslim concepts, like the complete separation of God from the world and the predestination of souls to eternal happiness or misery, might have made their way into Indian thought. Still, nearly all of Madhva's beliefs (with the possible exception of eternal punishment) have parallels in Indian philosophy. Yoga teaches that there are countless souls that are distinct from one another and from God, and while the idea of salvation through the spirit may sound Christian, the Upanishads frequently celebrate Vâyu (wind) and Prâṇa (breath) as the fundamental essence of the universe and the essence of the self. "By the wind (Vâyu) as thread, O Gautama, this world and the other world and all creatures are bound together."[602] So, the concept of the wind as the universal mediator is ancient, and it doesn’t seem that Madhva viewed Vâyu as a redeemer or atonement for sin like Christ.
The Mâdhvas are still an energetic and important sect. Their headquarters are at Udipi in South Kanara and they also hold an annual conference at Tirupati at which examinations in theology are held and prizes given. At Udipi are eight maṭhs and a very sacred temple, dedicated by Madhva himself to Kṛishṇa. The head of each maṭh is charged in turn with the supervision of this temple during two years and the change of office is celebrated by a great biennial festival in January. The worship is more puritanical than in the temples of other sects, dancing girls for instance not being allowed, but great importance is attached to the practice of branding the body with the emblems of Vishṇu. The sect, like the Śrî Vaishṇavas, is divided [241] into two parties, the Vyasakutas who are conservative and use Sanskrit scriptures,[603] and the Dasakutas who have more popular tendencies and use sacred books written in Kanarese. Neither the Śrî Vaishṇavas nor the Mâdhvas are numerous in northern India.
The Mâdhvas are still a vibrant and significant sect. Their main center is in Udipi, located in South Kanara, and they also host an annual conference in Tirupati where theology exams are conducted and prizes are awarded. In Udipi, there are eight maṭhs and a highly revered temple dedicated to Kṛishṇa by Madhva himself. The leader of each maṭh takes turns overseeing this temple for two years, and the transition of office is marked by a major biennial festival in January. The worship practices here are more strict compared to other sects, for example, dancing girls are not allowed, but there is a strong emphasis on branding the body with symbols of Vishṇu. Similar to the Śrî Vaishṇavas, the sect is divided into two factions: the Vyasakutas, who are conservative and rely on Sanskrit scriptures,[603] and the Dasakutas, who lean towards more popular practices and use sacred texts written in Kanarese. Neither the Śrî Vaishṇavas nor the Mâdhvas have a large following in northern India.
FOOTNOTES:
[566] Thus Râmânuja says (Śri Bhâshya, II. 2. 43) that the Vedânta Sûtras do not refute the Sânkhya and Yoga but merely certain erroneous views as to Brahman not being the self.
[566] So Râmânuja states (Śri Bhâshya, II. 2. 43) that the Vedânta Sûtras don't reject Sânkhya and Yoga but only some incorrect opinions about Brahman not being the self.
[567] It has been described as the earliest of the Vishnuite Churches and it would be so if we could be sure that the existence of the doctrine called Dvaitâdvaita was equivalent to the existence of the sect. But Bhandarkar has shown some reason for thinking that Nimbâditya lived after Râmânuja. It must be admitted that the worship of Râdhâ and the doctrine of self-surrender or prapatti, both found in the Daśaśloki, are probably late.
[567] It’s been called the earliest of the Vishnuite Churches, and it might be if we could confirm that the doctrine known as Dvaitâdvaita was directly linked to the sect. However, Bhandarkar has provided some evidence suggesting that Nimbâditya lived after Râmânuja. We must acknowledge that the worship of Râdhâ and the doctrine of self-surrender or prapatti, both present in the Daśaśloki, are likely more recent developments.
[569] The Church of the Nimavats is also called Sanakâdi-sampradâya because it professes to derive its doctrine from Sanaka and his brethren who taught Nârada, who taught Nimbârka. At least one sub-sect founded by Harivamsa (born 1559) adopts a doctrine analogous to Saktism and worships Râdhâ as the manifestation of Kṛishṇa's energy.
[569] The Church of the Nimavats is also known as Sanakâdi-sampradâya because it claims to base its beliefs on the teachings of Sanaka and his brothers, who instructed Nârada, who in turn taught Nimbârka. At least one sub-sect established by Harivamsa (born 1559) follows a belief system similar to Saktism and worships Râdhâ as a representation of Kṛishṇa's energy.
[571] Also spelt Alvar and Azhvar. The Tamil pronunciation of this difficult letter varies in different districts. The word apparently means one who is drowned or immersed in the divine love. Cf. Azhi, the deep sea; Azhal, being deep or being immersed.
[571] Also spelled Alvar and Azhvar. The Tamil pronunciation of this tricky letter changes in different regions. The word seems to mean someone who is completely absorbed or immersed in divine love. Cf. Azhi, the deep sea; Azhal, being deep or being immersed.
[574] XI. 5. 38-40.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XI. 5. 38-40.
[575] Bhandarkar (Vaishṇ. and Śaivism, p. 50) thinks it probable that Kulaśekhara, one of the middle Âr̤vârs, lived about 1130. But the argument is not conclusive and it seems to me improbable that he lived after Nâthamuni.
[575] Bhandarkar (Vaishṇ. and Śaivism, p. 50) suggests that Kulaśekhara, one of the middle Âr̤vârs, probably lived around 1130. However, the argument is not definitive, and I find it unlikely that he lived after Nâthamuni.
[576] The first called Mudal-Âyiram consists of nine hymns ascribed to various saints such as Periyâr̤var and Andal. The second and third each consist of a single work the Periya-tiru-mor̤i and the Tiru-vay-mor̤i ascribed to Tiru-mangai and Namm'âr̤vâr respectively. The fourth part or Iyar-pa is like the first a miscellany containing further compositions by these two as well as by others.
[576] The first part, called Mudal-Âyiram, has nine hymns attributed to different saints like Periyâr̤var and Andal. The second and third parts each contain a single work: the Periya-tiru-mor̤i and the Tiru-vay-mor̤i, attributed to Tiru-mangai and Namm'âr̤vâr respectively. The fourth part, or Iyar-pa, is similar to the first and includes a mix of additional compositions by these two and others.
[578] The best known is the Guru-paramparâ-prabhâvam of Brahmatantra-svatantra-swâmi. For an English account of these doctors see T. Râjagopala Chariar, The Vaishṇavite Reformers of India, Madras, 1909.
[578] The most well-known is the Guru-paramparâ-prabhâvam of Brahmatantra-svatantra-swâmi. For an English overview of these scholars, see T. Râjagopala Chariar, The Vaishṇavite Reformers of India, Madras, 1909.
[580] He states himself that he followed Boddhâyana, a commentator on the Sûtras of unknown date but anterior to Śaṅkara. He quotes several other commentators particularly Dramiḍa, so that his school must have had a long line of teachers.
[580] He mentions that he followed Boddhâyana, a commentator on the Sûtras from an unknown time, but before Śaṅkara. He references several other commentators, especially Dramiḍa, which indicates that his school likely had a long lineage of teachers.
[581] See Gazetteer of India, vol. XXIII. s.v. There is a Kanarese account of his life called Dibya-caritra. For his life and teaching see also Bhandarkar in Berichte VIIth Int. Orient. Congress, 1886, pp. 101 ff. Lives in English have been published at Madras by Alkondaville Govindâcârya (1906) and Kṛishṇaswami Aiyangar (? 1909).
[581] See Gazetteer of India, vol. XXIII. s.v. There is a Kanarese account of his life called Dibya-caritra. For his life and teachings, see also Bhandarkar in Berichte VIIth Int. Orient. Congress, 1886, pp. 101 ff. English biographies have been published in Madras by Alkondaville Govindâcârya (1906) and Kṛishṇaswami Aiyangar (? 1909).
[583] S.B.E. XLVIII. p. 3.
[584] II. 2. 36-39.
[585] II. 2. 43 ad fin.
[590] Hence the two doctrines are called markaṭa-nyâya and marjâra-nyâya, monkey theory and cat theory. The latter gave rise to the dangerous doctrine of Doshabhogya, that God enjoys sin, since it gives a larger scope for the display of His grace. Cf. Oscar Wilde in De Profundis, "Christ, through some divine instinct in him, seems to have always loved the sinner as being the nearest possible approach to perfection in man.... In a manner not yet understood of the world, he regarded sin and suffering as being in themselves beautiful holy things and modes of perfection.... Christ, had he been asked, would have said—I feel quite certain about it—that the moment the prodigal son fell on his knees and wept, he made his having wasted his substance with harlots, his swine herding and hungering for the husks they ate beautiful and holy moments in his life."
[590] So, the two doctrines are known as the monkey theory and the cat theory. The latter led to the troubling idea of Doshabhogya, which claims that God enjoys sin because it allows for a greater display of His grace. See Oscar Wilde in De Profundis, "Christ, through some divine instinct in Him, seems to have always loved the sinner as being the closest possible approach to perfection in man... In a way that the world has yet to understand, He viewed sin and suffering as inherently beautiful, holy things and forms of perfection... Christ, had He been asked, would have said—I feel quite certain of it—that the moment the prodigal son fell to his knees and wept, he transformed his squandering of his wealth with prostitutes, his pig herding, and his hunger for the scraps they ate into beautiful and holy moments in his life."
[591] Also called Veṅkatanâtha. For some rather elaborate studies in the history of the Śrî-Vaishṇavas see V. Rangacharis' articles in J. Bombay R.A.S. 1915 and 1916 and J. Mythic Society, 1917, Nos. 2 ff.
[591] Also known as Veṅkatanâtha. For detailed research on the history of the Śrî-Vaishṇavas, check out V. Rangachari's articles in J. Bombay R.A.S. from 1915 and 1916 and in J. Mythic Society, 1917, Nos. 2 and following.
[592] Prapatti and âcâryabhimâna.—The word prapatti seems not to occur in the Śrî Bhâshya and it is clear that Râmânuja's temperament was inclined to active and intelligent devotion. But prapatti is said to have been taught by Nathamuni and Sathagopa (Râjagopala Chariar, Vaishṇavite Reformers, p. 6). The word means literally approaching.
[592] Prapatti and Teacher's Importance.—The term prapatti doesn’t appear in the Śrî Bhâshya, and it’s clear that Râmânuja's nature leaned towards active and thoughtful devotion. However, prapatti is said to have been introduced by Nathamuni and Sathagopa (Râjagopala Chariar, Vaishṇavite Reformers, p. 6). The word literally means approaching.
[594] Râmânuja set less store than Śankara on asceticism and renunciation of the world. He held the doctrine called samucchaya (or combination) namely that good works as well as knowledge are efficacious for salvation.
[594] Râmânuja valued asceticism and renouncing the world less than Śankara did. He believed in the doctrine called samucchaya (or combination), which states that both good deeds and knowledge are effective for salvation.
[595] Also called Ânandatîrtha and Pûrṅaprajña. According to others he was born in 1238 A.D. See for his doctrines Grierson's article Madhvas in E.R.E. and his own commentaries on the Chândogya and Bṛihad Ar. Upanishads published in Sacred Books of the Hindus, vols. III. and XIV. For his date Bhandarkar, Vaishṇ. and Śaivism, pp. 58-59 and I.A.. 1914, pp. 233 ff. and 262 ff. Accounts of his life and teaching have been written by Padmanabha Char. and Kṛishṇa Svami Aiyer (Madras, 1909). His followers maintain that he is not dead but still alive at Badarî in the Himalayas.
[595] Also known as Ânandatîrtha and Pûrṅaprajña. Some sources say he was born in 1238 A.D. For his teachings, see Grierson's article on Madhvas in E.R.E. and his own commentaries on the Chândogya and Bṛihad Ar. Upanishads published in Sacred Books of the Hindus, vols. III and XIV. For his birth date, refer to Bhandarkar, Vaishṇ. and Śaivism, pp. 58-59 and I.A. 1914, pp. 233 ff. and 262 ff. Accounts of his life and teachings have been written by Padmanabha Char. and Kṛishṇa Svami Aiyer (Madras, 1909). His followers believe that he is not dead but is still alive at Badarî in the Himalayas.
[596] See Padmanabha Char. l.c. page 12. Madhva condemned the worship of inanimate objects (e.g. com. Chând. Up. VII. 14. 2) but not the worship of Brahman in inanimate objects.
[596] See Padmanabha Char. l.c. page 12. Madhva criticized the worship of lifeless objects (e.g. com. Chând. Up. VII. 14. 2) but did not condemn the worship of Brahman through inanimate objects.
[597] In a work called the Pâshanda capetikâ or A Slap for Heretics, all the adherents of Madhva are consigned to hell and the Saurapurâṇa, chaps. XXXVIII.-XL. contains a violent polemic against them. See Jahn's Analysis, pp. 90-106 and Barth in Mélanges Harlez, pp. 12-25. It is curious that the Madhvas should have been selected for attack, for in many ways they are less opposed to Śivaites than are other Vishnuite sects but the author was clearly badly informed about the doctrines which he attacks and he was probably an old-fashioned Śivaite of the north who regarded Madhvism as a new-fangled version of objectionable doctrines.
[597] In a work called the Pâshanda capetikâ or A Slap for Heretics, all supporters of Madhva are condemned to hell, and the Saurapurâṇa, chapters XXXVIII.-XL., contains a fierce argument against them. See Jahn's Analysis, pp. 90-106 and Barth in Mélanges Harlez, pp. 12-25. It's interesting that the Madhvas were specifically chosen for criticism, as they are often less at odds with Śivaites than other Vishnuite sects. However, the author seems to have been poorly informed about the doctrines he critiques and was likely an outdated north Indian Śivaite who viewed Madhvism as a modern twist on unwelcome ideas.
The Madhvas are equally violent in denouncing Śankara and his followers. They miswrite the name Saṃkara, giving it the sense of mongrel or dirt and hold that he was an incarnation of a demon called Maṇimat sent by evil spirits to corrupt the world.
The Madhvas are just as aggressive in criticizing Śankara and his followers. They misspell the name Saṃkara, implying it means mongrel or dirt, and claim that he was a demon named Maṇimat sent by evil spirits to ruin the world.
[598] See his comment on Chând. Up. VI. 8. 7. Compare Bhag.-g. XV. 7. The text appears to say that the soul (Jîva) is a part (amsa) of the Lord. Madhva says it is so-called because it bears some reduced similitude to the Lord, though quite distinct from him. Madhva's exegesis is supported by a system of tantric or cabalistic interpretation in which every letter has a special meaning. Thus in the passage of the Chând. Up. mentioned above the simple words sa ya eshah are explained as equivalent to Sâra essence, yama the controller, and ishta the desired one. The reading atat tvam asi is said not to have originated with Madhva but to be found in a Bhâgavata work called the Sâmasamhitâ.
[598] See his comment on Chând. Up. VI. 8. 7. Compare Bhag.-g. XV. 7. The text seems to indicate that the soul (Jîva) is a part (amsa) of the Lord. Madhva argues that it is referred to this way because it has some diminished resemblance to the Lord, although it is distinctly separate from Him. Madhva's interpretation is backed by a system of tantric or cabalistic analysis where each letter has a specific meaning. Therefore, in the Chând. Up. referenced above, the simple words sa ya eshah are interpreted as equivalent to Sâra essence, yama the controller, and ishta the desired one. The phrase atat tvam asi is claimed not to have originated with Madhva but to exist in a Bhâgavata text called the Sâmasamhitâ.
[601] Life and teachings of Śrî-Madhvacharyar by Padmanabha Char. 1909, p. 159. Some have suspected a connection between Madhva's teaching and Manicheism, because he attached much importance to an obscure demon called Manimat (see Mahâbh. III. 11, 661) whom he considered incarnate in Śankara. It is conceivable that in his Persian studies he may have heard of Mani as an arch-heretic and have identified him with this demon but this does not imply any connection between his own system (or Śankara's either) and Manicheism.
[601] Life and teachings of Śrî-Madhvacharyar by Padmanabha Char. 1909, p. 159. Some people have wondered if there’s a link between Madhva's teachings and Manicheism because he placed significant emphasis on a little-known demon named Manimat (see Mahâbh. III. 11, 661), whom he believed was incarnated in Śankara. It’s possible that during his studies on Persian culture, he encountered Mani as an arch-heretic and connected him with this demon, but that doesn’t mean there’s any real connection between his own teachings (or Śankara's) and Manicheism.
CHAPTER XXX
LATER VISHNUISM IN NORTH INDIA
1
With the fifteenth century Hinduism enters on a new phase. Sects arise which show the influence of Mohammedanism, sometimes to such an extent that it is hard to say whether they should be classed as Hindu or Moslim, and many teachers repudiate caste. Also, whereas in the previous centuries the centre of religious feeling lay in the south, it now shifts to the north. Hinduism had been buffeted but not seriously menaced there: the teachers of the south had not failed to recognize by their pilgrimages the sanctity and authority of the northern seats of learning: such works as the Gîtâ-govinda testify to the existence there of fervent Vishnuism. But the country had been harassed by Moslim invasions and unsettled by the vicissitudes of transitory dynasties. The Jains were powerful in Gujarat and Rajputâna. In Bengal Śâktism and moribund Buddhism were not likely to engender new enthusiasms. But in a few centuries the movements inaugurated in the south increased in extension and strength. Hindus and Mohammedans began to know more of each other, and in the sixteenth century under the tolerant rule of Akbar and his successors the new sects which had been growing were able to consolidate themselves.
With the fifteenth century, Hinduism enters a new phase. New sects emerge that show the influence of Islam, sometimes to the point that it's hard to classify them as either Hindu or Muslim, and many leaders reject the caste system. Additionally, while the center of religious sentiment had been in the south in previous centuries, it now shifts to the north. Hinduism had faced challenges but wasn't seriously threatened there: teachers from the south recognized the sanctity and authority of the northern centers of learning through their pilgrimages; works like the Gîtâ-govinda testify to the presence of passionate Vishnuism in the region. However, the area had been troubled by Muslim invasions and disturbed by the changes of temporary dynasties. The Jains were influential in Gujarat and Rajasthan. In Bengal, Shaktism and declining Buddhism were unlikely to spark new enthusiasm. But in a few centuries, the movements that started in the south grew in scope and strength. Hindus and Muslims began to learn more about each other, and in the sixteenth century, under the tolerant rule of Akbar and his successors, the new sects that had been developing were able to solidify their presence.
After Râmânuja and Madhva, the next great name in the history of Vishnuism, and indeed of Hinduism, is Râmânand. His date is uncertain.[604] He was posterior to Râmânuja, from whose sect he detached himself, and Kabir was his disciple, [243] apparently his immediate disciple. Some traditions give Prayaga as his birthplace, others Melucote, but the north was the scene of his activity. He went on a lengthy pilgrimage, and on his return was accused of having infringed the rules of his sect as to eating, etc., and was excommunicated, but received permission from his Guru to found a new sect. He then settled in Benares and taught there. He wrote no treatise but various hymns ascribed to him are still popular.[605] Though he is not associated with any special dogma, yet his teaching is of great importance as marking the origin of a popular religious movement characterized by the use of the vernacular languages instead of Sanskrit, and by a laxity in caste rules culminating in a readiness to admit as equals all worshippers of the true God.[606] This God is Râma rather than Kṛishṇa. I have already pointed out that the worship of Râma as the Supreme Being (to be distinguished from respect for him as a hero) is not early: in fact it appears to begin in the period which we are considering. Of the human forms of the deity Kṛishṇa was clearly the most popular but the school of Râmânuja, while admitting both Râma and Kṛishṇa as incarnations, preferred to adore God under less mythological and more philosophic names such as Nârâyaṇa. Râmânand, who addressed himself to all classes and not merely to the Brahman aristocracy, selected as the divine name Râma. It was more human than Nârâyaṇa, less sensuous than Kṛishṇa. Every Hindu was familiar with the poetry which sings of Râma as a chivalrous and godlike hero. But he was not, like Kṛishṇa, the lover of the soul, and when Râmaism was divested of mythology by successive reformers it became a monotheism in which Hindu and Moslim elements could blend. Râmânand had twelve disciples, among whom were Kabir, a Raja called Pîpâ, Rai Das, a leather-seller (and therefore an outcast according to Hindu ideas) as well as Brahmans. The Râmats, as his followers were called, are a numerous and respectable body in north India, using the same sectarian mark as the Vadagalais from whom they do not differ materially, although a Hindu might consider that their small regard for caste is a vital distinction. They often call themselves Avadhûtas, that is, those who have shaken off worldly restrictions, and the more devout among them belong [244] to an order divided into four classes of which only the highest is reserved to Brahmans and the others are open to all castes. They own numerous and wealthy maṭhs, but it is said that in some of these celibacy is not required and that monks and nuns live openly as man and wife.[607]
After Rāmānuja and Madhva, the next significant figure in the history of Vishnuism, and indeed of Hinduism, is Rāmānand. His exact date is unclear.[604] He came after Rāmānuja, from whose sect he separated himself, and Kabir was his disciple, [243] apparently his closest disciple. Some traditions say he was born in Prayaga, while others claim it was Melucote, but he was active mainly in the north. He undertook a long pilgrimage and, upon his return, faced accusations of violating the rules of his sect regarding diet, among other things, and was excommunicated. However, he received permission from his Guru to establish a new sect. He then settled in Benares and taught there. He didn’t write any formal texts, but various hymns attributed to him are still popular today.[605] Although he is not linked to any specific doctrine, his teachings are crucial as they mark the beginning of a popular religious movement that emphasized the use of local languages instead of Sanskrit and relaxed caste rules, leading to an openness to include all worshippers of the true God as equals.[606] This God is Rāma rather than Kṛishṇa. I have already noted that the worship of Rāma as the Supreme Being (as distinct from reverence for him as a hero) is not ancient; in fact, it seems to have started in the period we are discussing. Among the human forms of the deity, Kṛishṇa was clearly the most popular, but the school of Rāmānuja, while recognizing both Rāma and Kṛishṇa as incarnations, preferred to worship God under more philosophical and less mythological names like Nārāyaṇa. Rāmānand, who addressed people from all backgrounds and not just the Brahman elite, chose the name Rāma for the divine. It was more relatable than Nārāyaṇa and less sensual than Kṛishṇa. Every Hindu was familiar with the poetry that portrays Rāma as a noble and godlike hero. However, unlike Kṛishṇa, who is seen as the beloved of the soul, when Rāmaism was stripped of mythology by later reformers, it evolved into a monotheism where Hindu and Muslim elements could merge. Rāmānand had twelve disciples, including Kabir, a king named Pīpā, Rai Das, a leather worker (and thus considered an outcast according to Hindu beliefs), as well as Brahmans. The Rāmats, as his followers were known, are a large and respected group in northern India, using the same sectarian mark as the Vadagalais, from whom they don’t materially differ, although a Hindu might see their lesser emphasis on caste as a crucial difference. They often refer to themselves as Avadhūtas, meaning those who have discarded worldly constraints, and the more devout among them belong [244] to an order split into four classes, where only the highest is reserved for Brahmans, while the others are open to all castes. They have numerous wealthy maṭhs, but it is said that in some, celibacy is not required, and that monks and nuns live openly as husband and wife.[607]
An important aspect of the Râmat movement is its effect on the popular literature of Hindustan which in the fifteenth and even more in the sixteenth century blossoms into flowers of religious poetry. Many of these writings possess real merit and are still a moral and spiritual force. European scholars are only beginning to pay sufficient attention to this mighty flood of hymns which gushed forth in nearly all the vernaculars of India[608] and appealed directly to the people. The phenomenon was not really new. The psalms of the Buddhists and even the hymns of the Ṛig Veda were vernacular literature in their day, and in the south the songs of the Devaram and Nâlâyiram are of some antiquity. But in the north, though some Prâkrit literature has been preserved, Sanskrit was long considered the only proper language for religion. We can hardly doubt that vernacular hymns existed, but they did not receive the imprimatur of any teacher, and have not survived. But about 1400 all this changes. Though Râmânand was not much of a writer he gave his authority to the use of the vernacular: he did not, like Râmânuja, either employ or enjoin Sanskrit and the meagre details which we have of his circle lead us to imagine him surrounded by men of homely speech.
An important aspect of the Râmat movement is its influence on the popular literature of Hindustan, which in the fifteenth and especially in the sixteenth century flourished into vibrant religious poetry. Many of these writings have genuine value and continue to be a moral and spiritual force. European scholars are just beginning to pay enough attention to this powerful wave of hymns that emerged in almost all the languages of India[608] and spoke directly to the people. This phenomenon wasn't entirely new. The psalms of the Buddhists and even the hymns of the Ṛig Veda were vernacular literature in their time, and in the south, the songs of the Devaram and Nâlâyiram are of considerable antiquity. But in the north, while some Prâkrit literature has been preserved, Sanskrit was long regarded as the only appropriate language for religion. We can hardly doubt that vernacular hymns existed, but they didn't receive the endorsement of any teacher and have not survived. However, around 1400, all of this changed. Although Râmânand wasn't much of a writer, he endorsed the use of the vernacular: unlike Râmânuja, he neither used nor insisted on Sanskrit, and the scant details we have about his followers suggest he was surrounded by people who spoke in everyday language.
One current in this sea of poetry was Krishnaite and as such not directly connected with Râmânand. Vidyâpati[609] sang of the loves of Kṛishṇa and Râdhâ in the Maithili dialect and also in a form of Bengali. In the early fifteenth century (c. 1420) we have the poetess Mirâ Bai, wife of the Raja of Chitore who gained celebrity and domestic unhappiness by her passionate [245] devotion to the form of Kṛishṇa known as Ranchor. According to one legend the image came to life in answer to her fervent prayers, and throwing his arms round her allowed her to meet a rapturous death in his embrace. This is precisely the sentiment which we find later in the teaching of Vallabhâcârya and Caitanya. The hymns of the Bengali poets have been collected in the Padakalpataru, one of the chief sacred books of the Bengali Vaishṇavas. From Vallabhâcârya spring the group of poets who adorned Braj or the Muttra district. Pre-eminent among them is the blind Sur Das who flourished about 1550 and wrote such sweet lyrics that Kṛishṇa himself came down and acted as his amanuensis. A somewhat later member of the same group is Nâbhâ Das, the author of the Bhakta Mâlâ or Legends of the Saints, which is still one of the most popular religious works of northern India.[610] Almost contemporary with Sur Das was the great Tulsi Das and Grierson[611] enumerated thirteen subsequent writers who composed Râmâyaṇas in some dialect of Hindi. A little later came the Mahratta poet Tukarâm (born about 1600) who gave utterance to Krishnaism in another language.
One movement in this ocean of poetry was Krishnaite and, therefore, wasn't directly linked to Râmânand. Vidyâpati[609] sang about the loves of Kṛishṇa and Râdhâ in the Maithili dialect and also in a form of Bengali. In the early fifteenth century (c. 1420), we have the poetess Mirâ Bai, wife of the Raja of Chitore, who became famous and faced personal struggles due to her passionate devotion to Kṛishṇa in the form of Ranchor. According to one legend, the image came to life in response to her intense prayers and, embracing her, allowed her to experience a blissful death in his arms. This is exactly the sentiment that later appears in the teachings of Vallabhâcârya and Caitanya. The hymns of the Bengali poets have been compiled in the Padakalpataru, one of the main sacred texts of the Bengali Vaishṇavas. From Vallabhâcârya emerged a group of poets who flourished in Braj or the Mathura district. The most notable among them is the blind Sur Das, who thrived around 1550 and wrote such beautiful lyrics that Kṛishṇa himself came down to act as his scribe. A somewhat later member of this group is Nâbhâ Das, the author of the Bhakta Mâlâ or Legends of the Saints, which remains one of the most popular religious texts in northern India.[610] Almost contemporary with Sur Das was the great Tulsi Das, and Grierson[611] listed thirteen later writers who created Râmâyaṇas in various Hindi dialects. Soon after came the Mahratta poet Tukarâm (born around 1600), who expressed Krishnaism in yet another language.
Tulsi Das is too important to be merely mentioned as one in a list of poets. He is a great figure in Indian religion, and the saying that his Râmâyaṇa is more popular and more honoured in the North-western Provinces than the Bible in England is no exaggeration.[612] He came into the world in 1532 but was exposed by his parents as born under an unlucky star and was adopted by a wandering Sâdhu. He married but his son died and after this loss he himself became a Sâdhu. He began to write his Râmâyaṇa in Oudh at the age of forty-three, but moved to Benares where he completed it and died in 1623. On the Tulsi Ghat, near the river Asi, may still be seen the rooms which he occupied. They are at the top of a lofty building and command a beautiful view over the river[4].
Tulsi Das is too significant to be just another name on a list of poets. He is a major figure in Indian religion, and the claim that his Râmâyaṇa is more popular and respected in the North-western Provinces than the Bible is in England is no exaggeration.[612] He was born in 1532 but was deemed unlucky by his parents and was adopted by a wandering Sâdhu. He got married, but after the death of his son, he himself became a Sâdhu. He started writing his Râmâyaṇa in Oudh at the age of forty-three, but later moved to Benares where he finished it and passed away in 1623. At Tulsi Ghat, near the river Asi, you can still see the rooms he occupied. They’re at the top of a tall building and offer a beautiful view of the river[4].
His Râmâyana which is an original composition and not a translation of Vâlmîki's work is one of the great religious poems of the world and not unworthy to be set beside Paradise Lost. The sustained majesty of diction and exuberance of ornament are accompanied by a spontaneity and vigour rare in any literature, especially in Asia. The poet is not embellishing a laboured theme: he goes on and on because his emotion bursts forth again and again, diversifying the same topic with an inexhaustible variety of style and metaphor. As in some forest a stream flows among flowers and trees, but pours forth a flood of pure water uncoloured by the plants on its bank, so in the heart of Tulsi Das the love of God welled up in a mighty fountain ornamented by the mythology and legends with which he bedecked it, yet unaffected by them. He founded no sect, which is one reason of his popularity, for nearly all sects can read him with edification, and he is primarily a poet not a theologian. But though he allows himself a poet's licence to state great truths in various ways, he still enunciates a definite belief. This is theism, connected with the name Râma. Since in the north he is the author most esteemed by the Vishnuites, it would be a paradox to refuse him that designation, but his teaching is not so much that Vishṇu is the Supreme Being who becomes incarnate in Râma, as that Râma, and more rarely Hari and Vâsudeva, are names of the All-God who manifests himself in human form. Vishṇu is mentioned as a celestial being in the company of Brahmâ,[613] and so far as any god other than Râma receives attention it is Śiva, not indeed as Râma's equal, but as a being at once very powerful and very devout, who acts as a mediator or guide. "Without prayer to Śiva no one can attain to the faith which I require."[614] "Râma is God, the totality of good, imperishable, invisible, uncreated, incomparable, void of all change, indivisible, whom the Veda declares that it cannot define."[615] And yet, "He whom scripture and philosophy have sung and whom the saints love to contemplate, even the Lord God, he is the son of Dasarath, King of Kosala."[616] By the power of Râma exist Brahmâ, Vishṇu and Śiva, as also Mâyâ, the illusion which brings about the world. His "delusive power [247] is a vast fig-tree, its clustering fruit the countless multitude of worlds, while all things animate and inanimate are like the insects that dwell inside and think their own particular fig the only one in existence."[617] God has made all things: pain and pleasure, sin and merit, saints and sinners, Brahmans and butchers, passion and asceticism. It is the Veda that distinguishes good and evil among them.[618] The love of God and faith are the only road to happiness. "The worship of Hari is real and all the world is a dream."[619] Tulsi Das often uses the language of the Advaita philosophy and even calls God the annihilator of duality, but though he admits the possibility of absorption and identification with the deity, he holds that the double relation of a loving God and a loving soul constitutes greater bliss. "The saint was not absorbed into the divinity for this reason that he had already received the gift of faith."[620] And in a similar spirit he says, "Let those preach in their wisdom who contemplate Thee as the supreme spirit, the uncreate, inseparable from the universe, recognizable only by inference and beyond the understanding; but we, O Lord, will ever hymn the glories of thy incarnation." Like most Hindus he is little disposed to enquire what is the purpose of creation, but he comes very near to saying that God has evolved the world by the power of Mâyâ because the bliss which God and his beloved feel is greater than the bliss of impersonal undifferentiated divinity. It will be seen that Tulsi Das is thoroughly Hindu: neither his fundamental ideas nor his mythological embellishments owe anything to Islam or Christianity. He accepts unreservedly such principles as Mâyâ, transmigration, Karma and release. But his sentiments, more than those of any other Indian writer, bear a striking resemblance to the New Testament. Though he holds that the whole world is of God, he none the less bids men shun evil and choose the good, and the singular purity of his thoughts and style contrasts strongly with other Vishnuite works. He does not conceive of the love which may exist between the soul and God as a form of sexual passion.
His Râmâyana, an original work rather than a translation of Vâlmîki's text, is one of the great religious poems in the world, deserving to be placed alongside Paradise Lost. The consistent grandeur of language and rich ornamentation are matched by a spontaneity and energy that are rare in any literature, particularly in Asia. The poet doesn't simply embellish a complicated theme; he continues to explore it because his emotions repeatedly overflow, enriching the same subject with a seemingly endless variety of styles and metaphors. Just as a stream flows through a forest of flowers and trees, pouring forth a flood of pure water untouched by the plants along its banks, so in Tulsi Das's heart, the love of God emerges as a powerful fountain decorated with the mythology and legends he adorns it with, yet remains unaffected by them. He didn't establish a sect, which contributes to his popularity since nearly all sects can find value in his work, positioning him primarily as a poet, not a theologian. While he permits himself the freedom of a poet to express profound truths in various ways, he still articulates a clear belief. This belief is theism, linked to the name Râma. Since he is highly regarded by the Vishnuites in the north, it would be contradictory to deny him that title; however, his teaching emphasizes that Râma, and to a lesser extent Hari and Vâsudeva, are names for the All-God who comes into human form. Vishṇu is portrayed as a celestial figure alongside Brahmâ,[613] and when any deity other than Râma is acknowledged, it is Śiva—not as Râma's equal, but as a powerful and devoted being who acts as a mediator or guide. "Without prayer to Śiva, no one can attain the faith I require."[614] "Râma is God, the embodiment of goodness, imperishable, invisible, uncreated, unparalleled, free from all change, indivisible, the being whom the Veda states cannot be defined."[615] Yet, "He who is celebrated by scripture and philosophy and whom the saints delight in contemplating, even the Lord God, is the son of Dasarath, King of Kosala."[616] Through Râma's power exist Brahmâ, Vishṇu, and Śiva, along with Mâyâ, the illusion that creates the world. His "delusive power [247] is a massive fig tree, with its clustered fruits representing the countless worlds, while all living and non-living things are like the insects that dwell inside and mistakenly believe their particular fig is the only one that exists."[617] God has created everything: pain and pleasure, sin and virtue, saints and sinners, Brahmans and butchers, passion and asceticism. It's the Veda that differentiates good from evil among them.[618] The love of God and faith are the only paths to happiness. "The worship of Hari is real, and the entire world is a dream."[619] Tulsi Das often employs the language of Advaita philosophy and even refers to God as the eliminator of duality, but although he acknowledges the possibility of merging with the deity, he believes that the dual relationship of a loving God and a loving soul brings greater bliss. "The saint was not absorbed into the divinity because he had already received the gift of faith."[620] In a similar vein, he states, "Let those preach in their wisdom who see Thee as the supreme spirit, the uncreated, inseparable from the universe, understood only by inference and beyond comprehension; but we, O Lord, will always sing the praises of your incarnation." Like most Hindus, he rarely questions the purpose of creation, yet he comes close to suggesting that God has created the world through the power of Mâyâ because the joy that God and his beloved share is greater than the joy of an impersonal, undifferentiated divinity. It's evident that Tulsi Das is thoroughly Hindu: his fundamental ideas and mythological embellishments owe nothing to Islam or Christianity. He fully embraces concepts like Mâyâ, reincarnation, Karma, and liberation. However, his sentiments—more than those of any other Indian writer—bear a striking resemblance to the New Testament. While he maintains that the entire world belongs to God, he also urges people to avoid evil and choose good, and the distinct purity of his thoughts and style stands in stark contrast to other Vishnuite writings. He does not view the love between the soul and God as a form of sexual desire.
2
The beginning of the sixteenth century was a time of religious upheaval in India for it witnessed the careers not only of Vallabhâcârya and Caitanya, but also of Nânak, the founder of the Sikhs. In the west it was the epoch of Luther and as in Europe so in India no great religious movement has taken place since that time. The sects then founded have swollen into extravagance and been reformed: other sects have arisen from a mixture of Hinduism with Moslem and Christian elements, but no new and original current of thought or devotion has been started.
The early sixteenth century was a time of major religious change in India, marked by the lives of Vallabhâcârya and Caitanya, as well as Nânak, who founded the Sikhs. In the West, it was the era of Luther, and just like in Europe, India hasn't seen a significant religious movement since then. The sects that were established at that time have grown into extremes and have undergone reformation; other sects have emerged from a blend of Hinduism with Muslim and Christian influences, but there hasn't been any new, original stream of thought or devotion initiated.
Though the two great sects associated with the names of Caitanya and Vallabhâcârya have different geographical spheres and also present some differences in doctrinal details, both are emotional and even erotic and both adore Kṛishṇa as a child or young man. Their almost simultaneous appearance in eastern and western India and their rapid growth show that they represent an unusually potent current of ideas and sentiments. But the worship of Kṛishṇa was, as we have seen, nothing new in northern India. Even that relatively late phase in which the sports of the divine herdsman are made to typify the love of God for human souls is at least as early as the Gîtâ-govinda written about 1170. In the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, the history of Kṛishṇa worship is not clear,[621] but it persisted and about 1400 found speech in Bengal and in Rajputâna.
Though the two major sects associated with Caitanya and Vallabhâcārya have different geographical areas and some variations in beliefs, both are passionate and even sensual, and they both worship Kṛishṇa as a child or young man. Their nearly simultaneous emergence in eastern and western India and their quick spread indicate that they embody a powerful wave of ideas and feelings. However, as we’ve seen, the worship of Kṛishṇa wasn’t new in northern India. Even this relatively later stage, where the playful activities of the divine herdsman symbolize the love of God for human souls, dates back at least to the Gîtâ-govinda written around 1170. In the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, the history of Kṛishṇa worship isn't clear,[621] but it continued and by around 1400 expressed itself in Bengal and Rajputâna.
According to Vaishṇava theologians the followers of Vallabhâcârya[622] are a section of the Rudra-sampradâya founded in the early part of the fifteenth century by Vishṇusvâmi, an emigrant from southern India, who preached chiefly in Gujarat. The doctrines of the sect are supposed to have been delivered by the Almighty to Śiva from whom Vishṇusvâmi was fifteenth in spiritual descent, and are known by the name of Śuddhâdvaita or pure non-duality. They teach that God has three attributes—sac-cid-ânanda—existence, consciousness and bliss. In the human [249] or animal soul bliss is suppressed and in matter consciousness is suppressed too. But when the soul attains release it recovers bliss and becomes identical in nature with God. For practical purposes the Vallabhâcâris may be regarded as a sect founded by Vallabha, said to have been born in 1470. He was the son of a Telinga Brahman, who had migrated with Vishṇusvâmi to the north.
According to Vaishṇava theologians, the followers of Vallabhâcârya[622] are part of the Rudra-sampradâya, which was established in the early fifteenth century by Vishṇusvâmi, an immigrant from southern India who mostly preached in Gujarat. The beliefs of this sect are said to have been revealed by the Almighty to Śiva, from whom Vishṇusvâmi is considered the fifteenth in spiritual lineage, and are referred to as Śuddhâdvaita or pure non-duality. They teach that God has three attributes: sac-cid-ânanda—existence, consciousness, and bliss. In the human [249] or animal soul, bliss is suppressed, while consciousness is suppressed in matter. However, when the soul achieves liberation, it regains bliss and becomes identical in nature to God. For practical purposes, the Vallabhâcâris can be seen as a sect founded by Vallabha, who is believed to have been born in 1470. He was the son of a Telinga Brahman who had migrated north with Vishṇusvâmi.
Such was the pious precocity of Vallabha that at the age of twelve he had already discovered a new religion and started on a pilgrimage to preach it. He was well received at the Court of Vijayanagar, and was so successful in disputation that he was recognized as chief doctor of the Vaishṇava school. He subsequently spent nine years in travelling twice round India and at Brindaban received a visit from Kṛishṇa in person, who bade him promulgate his worship in the form of the divine child known as Bâla Gopâla. Vallabha settled in Benares and is said to have composed a number of works which are still extant.[623] He gained further victories as a successful disputant and also married and became the father of two sons. At the age of fifty-two he took to the life of a Sannyâsi, but died forty-two days afterwards.
Vallabha was so religiously advanced that by the age of twelve, he had already created a new religion and set off on a pilgrimage to spread it. He was well received at the Court of Vijayanagar and excelled in debates, earning recognition as the chief scholar of the Vaishṇava tradition. He later spent nine years traveling around India, and in Brindaban, he had a visit from Kṛishṇa himself, who instructed him to promote his worship in the form of the divine child known as Bâla Gopâla. Vallabha settled in Benares and is said to have written several works that still exist today.[623] He achieved further success in debates, got married, and became the father of two sons. At fifty-two, he embraced the life of a Sannyâsi but passed away just forty-two days later.
Though Vallabha died as an ascetic, his doctrines are currently known as the Pushṭi Mârga, the road of well-being or comfort. His philosophy was more decidedly monistic than is usual among Vishnuites, and Indian monism has generally taught that, as the soul and God are one in essence, the soul should realize this identity and renounce the pleasures of the senses. But with Vallabhâcârya it may be said that the vision which is generally directed godwards and forgets the flesh, turned earthwards and forgot God, for his teaching is that since the individual and the deity are one, the body should be reverenced and indulged. Pushṭi[624] or well-being is the special grace of God and the elect are called Pushṭi-jîva. They depend entirely on God's grace and are contrasted with Maryâdâ-jîvas, or those who submit to moral discipline. The highest felicity [250] is not mukti or liberation but the eternal service of Kṛishṇa and eternal participation in his sports.
Though Vallabha died as an ascetic, his teachings are now known as the Pushṭi Mârga, the path of well-being or comfort. His philosophy is more distinctly monistic than what's typically seen among Vishnuites, and Indian monism has generally taught that, because the soul and God are one in essence, the soul should recognize this identity and give up sensory pleasures. However, with Vallabhâcârya, the perspective that usually focuses on God and neglects the physical world instead turned toward the earthly life and overlooked God. He taught that since the individual and the deity are one, the body should be respected and enjoyed. Pushṭi[624] or well-being is the special grace of God, and those chosen are called Pushṭi-jîva. They rely completely on God's grace, in contrast to Maryâdâ-jîvas, who adhere to moral discipline. The greatest happiness [250] is not mukti or liberation, but the eternal service of Kṛishṇa and everlasting participation in his pastimes.
These doctrines have led to deplorable results, but so strong is the Indian instinct towards self-denial and asceticism that it is the priests rather than the worshippers who profit by this permission to indulge the body, and the chief feature of the sect is the extravagant respect paid to the descendants of Vallabhâcârya. They are known as Maharajas or Great Kings and their followers, especially women, dedicate to them tan, dhan, man: body, purse and spirit, for it is a condition of the road of well-being that before the devotee enjoys anything himself he must dedicate it to the deity and the Maharaj represents the deity. The daily prayer of the sect is "Om. Kṛishṇa is my refuge. I who suffer the infinite pain and torment of enduring for a thousand years separation from Kṛishṇa, consecrate to Kṛishṇa my body, senses, life, heart and faculties, my wife, house, family, property and my own self. I am thy slave, O Kṛishṇa."[625] This formula is recited to the Maharaj with peculiar solemnity by each male as he comes of age and is admitted as a full member of the sect. The words in which this dedication of self and family is made are not in themselves open to criticism and a parallel may be found in Christian hymns. But the literature of the Vallabhis unequivocally states that the Guru is the same as the deity[626] and there can be little doubt that even now the Maharajas are adored by their followers, especially by the women, as representatives of Kṛishṇa in his character of the lover of the Gopis and that the worship is often licentious.[627] Many Hindus denounce the sect and in 1862 one of the Maharajas brought an action for libel in the supreme court of Bombay on [251] account of the serious charges of immorality brought against him in the native press. The trial became a cause célèbre. Judgment was delivered against the Maharaj, the Judge declaring the charges to be fully substantiated. Yet in spite of these proceedings the sect still flourishes, apparently unchanged in doctrine and practice, and has a large following among the mercantile castes of western India. The Râdhâ-Vallabhis, an analogous sect founded by Harivaṃsa in the sixteenth century, give the pre-eminence to Râdhâ, the wife of Kṛishṇa, and in their secret ceremonies are said to dress as women. The worship of Râdhâ is a late phase of Vishnuism and is not known even to the Bhâgavata Purâṇa.[628]
These beliefs have led to unfortunate outcomes, but the strong Indian tendency towards self-denial and asceticism means that it's the priests, not the worshippers, who benefit from this allowance to indulge the body. A key aspect of the sect is the excessive respect given to the descendants of Vallabhâcārya, known as Maharajas or Great Kings. Their followers, especially women, dedicate their tan, dhan, man: body, wealth, and spirit, because it's a requirement on the path to well-being that before a devotee can enjoy anything themselves, they must dedicate it to the deity, with the Maharaj representing that deity. The daily prayer of the sect is, "Om. Kṛishṇa is my refuge. I who endure the endless pain and suffering of being separated from Kṛishṇa for a thousand years, dedicate to Kṛishṇa my body, senses, life, heart, and faculties, my wife, house, family, property, and my own self. I am your slave, O Kṛishṇa."[625] This dedication of self and family is solemnly recited to the Maharaj by each male as he comes of age and is welcomed as a full member of the sect. The words used for this dedication are not in themselves problematic, and similarities can be found in Christian hymns. However, the literature of the Vallabhis clearly states that the Guru is equivalent to the deity[626], and there’s no doubt that even now, the Maharajas are revered by their followers, particularly women, as representatives of Kṛishṇa in his role as the lover of the Gopis, and the worship can often be inappropriate.[627] Many Hindus criticize the sect, and in 1862, one of the Maharajas sued for libel in the supreme court of Bombay due to serious accusations of immorality made against him in the local press. The trial became widely publicized. The Judge ruled against the Maharaj, stating that the allegations were fully supported by evidence. Yet, despite these proceedings, the sect continues to thrive, seemingly unchanged in beliefs and practices, and maintains a significant following among the merchant castes of western India. The Râdhâ-Vallabhis, a similar sect founded by Harivaṃsa in the sixteenth century, prioritize Râdhâ, the wife of Kṛishṇa, and are said to dress as women during secret ceremonies. The worship of Râdhâ represents a later phase of Vishnuism and is not mentioned even in the Bhâgavata Purâṇa.[628]
Vallabhism owes much of its success to the family of the founder. They had evidently a strong dynastic sentiment as well as a love of missionary conquest—a powerful combination. Vallabhâcârya left behind him eighty-four principal disciples whose lives are recorded in the work called the Stories of the Eighty-four Vaishṇavas, and his authority descended to his son Vithalnath. Like his father, Vithalnath was active as a proselytizer and pilgrim and propagated his doctrines extensively in many parts of western India such as Cutch, Malwa, and Bijapur. His converts came chiefly from the mercantile classes but also included some Brahmans and Mussulmans. He is said to have abolished caste distinctions but the sect has not preserved this feature. In his later years he resided at Muttra or the neighbouring town of Gokul, whence he is known as Gokul Gosainji. This title of Gosain, which is still borne by his male descendants, is derived from Kṛishṇa's name Gosvâmin, the lord of cattle.[629] He had seven sons, in each of whom Kṛishṇa is said to have been incarnate for five years. They exercised spiritual authority in separate districts—as we might say in different dioceses—but the fourth son, Gokulnathji and his descendants claimed and still claim a special pre-eminence. The family is at present represented by about a hundred males who are accepted as [252] incarnations and receive the title of Maharaja. About twenty reside at Gokul[630] or near Muttra: there are a few in Bombay and in all the great cities of western India, but the Maharaj of Nath Dwara in Rajputâna is esteemed the chief. This place is not an ancient seat of Kṛishṇa worship, but during the persecution of Aurungzeb a peculiarly holy image was brought thither from Muttra and placed in the shrine where it still remains.
Vallabhism owes a lot of its success to the founder's family. They clearly had a strong sense of dynasty along with a passion for spreading their beliefs—a powerful combination. Vallabhâcârya left behind eighty-four main disciples whose lives are documented in a work called the Stories of the Eighty-four Vaishṇavas, and his authority passed down to his son Vithalnath. Like his father, Vithalnath was active in spreading their teachings and traveled extensively throughout many areas of western India like Cutch, Malwa, and Bijapur. His followers primarily came from the merchant class, but also included some Brahmans and Muslims. He is said to have eliminated caste distinctions, although the sect hasn’t maintained that aspect. In his later years, he lived in Muttra or the nearby town of Gokul, which is why he is known as Gokul Gosainji. The title of Gosain, which is still carried by his male descendants, comes from Kṛishṇa's name Gosvâmin, the lord of cattle.[629] He had seven sons, in whom Kṛishṇa is said to have been incarnate for five years. They held spiritual authority in different areas—as we might say in different dioceses—but the fourth son, Gokulnathji, and his descendants claimed and still claim a special prominence. The family today consists of about a hundred males who are recognized as [252] incarnations and hold the title of Maharaja. About twenty live in Gokul[630] or near Muttra; there are a few in Bombay and in all the major cities of western India, but the Maharaj of Nath Dwara in Rajputâna is regarded as the chief. This place is not an ancient site of Kṛishṇa worship, but during Aurungzeb's persecution, a particularly holy image was brought there from Muttra and placed in the shrine where it still resides.
A protest against the immorality of the Vallabhi sect was made by Swâminârâyaṇa, a Brahman who was born in the district of Lucknow about 1780.[631] He settled in Ahmedabad and gained so large a following that the authorities became alarmed and imprisoned him. But his popularity only increased: he became the centre of a great religious movement: hymns descriptive of his virtues and sufferings were sung by his followers and when he was released he found himself at the head of a band which was almost an army. He erected a temple in the village of Wartal in Baroda, which he made the centre of his sect, and recruited followers by means of periodical tours throughout Gujarat. His doctrines are embodied in an anthology called the Śikshâpatrî consisting of 212 precepts, some borrowed from accepted Hindu scriptures and some original and in a catechism called Vacanâmritam. His teaching was summed up in the phrase "Devotion to Kṛishṇa with observance of duty and purity of life" and in practice took the form of a laudable polemic against the licentiousness of the Vallabhis. As in most of the purer sects of Vishnuism, Kṛishṇa is regarded merely as a name of the Supreme Deity. Thus the Śikshâpatrî says "Nârâyaṇa and Śiva should be equally recognized as parts of one and the same supreme spirit, since both have been declared in the Vedas to be forms of Brahma. On no account let it be thought that difference in form or name makes any difference in the identity of the deity." The followers of Swâminârâyaṇa still number about 200,000 in western India and are divided into the laity and a body of celibate clergy. I have visited their religious establishments in Ahmedabad. It consists of a temple with a large and well-kept monastery in which are housed about 300 monks who wear costumes of reddish grey. Except in Assam I have not seen in India any parallel to [253] this monastery either in size or discipline. It is provided with a library and hospital. In the temple are images of Nara and Nârâyaṇa (explained as Kṛishṇa and Arjuna), Kṛishṇa and Râdhâ, Gaṇeśa and Hanuman.[632]
A protest against the immorality of the Vallabhi sect was made by Swâminârâyaṇa, a Brahman born in the Lucknow district around 1780.[631] He moved to Ahmedabad and attracted such a large following that the authorities got worried and imprisoned him. However, his popularity only grew: he became the center of a significant religious movement. His followers sang hymns about his virtues and sufferings, and when he was released, he found himself leading a group that was nearly an army. He built a temple in the village of Wartal in Baroda, which became the center of his sect, and gained new followers through periodic tours across Gujarat. His teachings are compiled in an anthology called the Śikshâpatrî, which includes 212 precepts, some taken from recognized Hindu scriptures and some original, as well as in a catechism named Vacanâmritam. His teachings were summed up in the phrase "Devotion to Kṛishṇa with observance of duty and purity of life," and they involved a commendable criticism of the Vallabhis'licentiousness. As with most pure sects of Vishnuism, Kṛishṇa is seen merely as another name for the Supreme Deity. Thus, the Śikshâpatrî states, "Nârâyaṇa and Śiva should be equally recognized as parts of the same supreme spirit, since both have been declared in the Vedas to be forms of Brahma. Under no circumstances should any difference in form or name be thought to imply a difference in the identity of the deity." The followers of Swâminârâyaṇa number about 200,000 in western India and are divided into laity and a body of celibate clergy. I have visited their religious facilities in Ahmedabad, which include a temple and a large, well-maintained monastery housing around 300 monks in reddish-grey attire. Except in Assam, I haven't seen any comparable monastery in India regarding size or discipline. It has a library and a hospital. Inside the temple, there are images of Nara and Nârâyaṇa (interpreted as Kṛishṇa and Arjuna), Kṛishṇa and Râdhâ, Gaṇeśa, and Hanuman.[632]
3
The sect founded by Caitanya is connected with eastern India as the Vallabhis are with the west. Bengal is perhaps the native land of the worship of Kṛishṇa as the god of love. It was there that Jayadeva flourished in the last days of the Sena dynasty and the lyrical poet Chandîdâs at the end of the fourteenth century. About the same time the still greater poet Vidyâpati was singing in Durbhanga. For these writers, as for Caitanya, religion is the bond of love which unites the soul and God, as typified by the passion[633] that drew together Râdhâ and Kṛishṇa. The idea that God loves and seeks out human souls is familiar to Christianity and receives very emotional expression in well-known hymns, but the bold humanity of these Indian lyrics seems to Europeans unsuitable. I will let a distinguished Indian apologize for it in his own words:
The sect founded by Caitanya is linked to eastern India just as the Vallabhis are tied to the west. Bengal is probably the birthplace of the worship of Kṛishṇa as the god of love. It was there that Jayadeva thrived during the final days of the Sena dynasty, and the lyrical poet Chandîdâs was active at the end of the fourteenth century. Around the same time, the even more renowned poet Vidyâpati was composing in Durbhanga. For these writers, as for Caitanya, religion is the bond of love that connects the soul to God, illustrated by the passion that united Râdhâ and Kṛishṇa. The notion that God loves and seeks out human souls is well-known in Christianity and is expressed very emotionally in famous hymns, but the bold humanity of these Indian lyrics may seem inappropriate to Europeans. I will let a distinguished Indian apologize for it in his own words:
"The paradox that has to be understood is that Kṛishṇa means God. Yet he is represented as a youth, standing at a gate, trying to waylay the beloved maiden, attempting to entrap the soul, as it were, into a clandestine meeting. This, which is so inconceivable to a purely modern mind, presents no difficulty at all to the Vaishṇava devotee. To him God is the lover himself: the sweet flowers, the fresh grass, the gay sound heard in the woods are direct messages and tokens of love to his soul, bringing to his mind at every instant that loving God whom he pictures as ever anxious to win the human heart."[634]
"The paradox that needs to be understood is that Kṛishṇa means God. Yet, he is depicted as a young man standing at a gate, trying to intercept the beloved maiden, attempting to lure the soul into a secret meeting. This, which seems unimaginable to a purely modern mind, poses no challenge to the Vaishṇava devotee. For him, God is the lover himself: the fragrant flowers, the fresh grass, and the cheerful sounds heard in the woods are direct messages and signs of love to his soul, constantly reminding him of that loving God whom he envisions as always eager to capture the human heart."[634]
Caitanya[635] was born at Nadia in 1485 and came under the influence of the Mâdhva sect. In youth he was a prodigy [254] of learning,[636] but at the age of about seventeen while on a pilgrimage to Gaya began to display that emotional and even hysterical religious feeling which marked all his teaching. He swooned at the mention of Kṛishṇa's name and passed his time in dancing and singing hymns. At twenty-five he became a Sannyâsî, and at the request of his mother, who did not wish him to wander too far, settled in Puri near the temple of Jagannath. Here he spent the rest of his life in preaching, worship and ecstatic meditation, but found time to make a tour in southern India and another to Brindaban and Benares. He appears to have left the management of his sect largely to his disciples, Advaita, Nityânanda and Haridas, and to have written nothing himself. But he evidently possessed a gift of religious magnetism and exercised an extraordinary influence on those who heard him preach or sing. He died or disappeared before the age of fifty but apparently none of the stories about his end merit credence.
Caitanya[635] was born in Nadia in 1485 and fell under the influence of the Mâdhva sect. In his youth, he was a brilliant learner [254] [636] but around the age of seventeen, while on a pilgrimage to Gaya, he began to show the intense and even hysterical religious feelings that characterized all his teachings. He would faint at the mention of Kṛishṇa's name and spent his time dancing and singing hymns. At twenty-five, he became a Sannyâsî, and at his mother's request, who didn’t want him to travel too far, he settled in Puri near the Jagannath temple. He spent the rest of his life preaching, worshiping, and engaging in ecstatic meditation, but also found time to travel to southern India and to Brindaban and Benares. He seemed to have left the management of his sect mostly to his disciples, Advaita, Nityânanda, and Haridas, and did not write anything himself. However, he obviously had a gift for religious magnetism and had an extraordinary impact on those who listened to him preach or sing. He died or disappeared before reaching fifty, but apparently, none of the stories about his end are credible.
Although the teaching of Caitanya is not so objectionable morally as the doctrines of the Vallabhis, it follows the same line of making religion easy and emotional and it is not difficult to understand how his preaching, set forth with the eloquence which he possessed, won converts from the lower classes by thousands. He laid no stress on asceticism, approved of marriage and rejected all difficult rites and ceremonies. The form of worship which he specially enjoined was the singing of Kîrtans or hymns consisting chiefly in a repetition of the divine names accompanied by music and dancing. Swaying the body and repetition of the same formula or hymn are features of emotional religion found in the most diverse regions, for instance among the Rufais or Howling Dervishes, at Welsh revival meetings and in negro churches in the Southern States. It is therefore unnecessary to seek any special explanation in India but perhaps there is some connection between the religious ecstasies of Vaishṇavas and Dervishes. Within Caitanya's sect, caste was not observed. He is said to have admitted many Moslims to membership and to have regarded all worshippers of Kṛishṇa as equal. Though caste has grown up again, yet the old regulation is still in force inside the temple of Jagannath at Puri. Within the sacred enclosure all are treated as of one caste and eat [255] the same sacred food. In Caitanya's words "the mercy of God regards neither tribe nor family."
Although Caitanya's teachings aren't as morally objectionable as those of the Vallabhis, they still promote an approach to religion that is easy and emotional. It's easy to see how his eloquent preaching attracted thousands of converts from lower classes. He didn’t emphasize asceticism, supported marriage, and dismissed difficult rites and ceremonies. The main form of worship he promoted was singing Kîrtans or hymns, which mainly involved repeating divine names while accompanied by music and dancing. The swaying of the body and repetition of the same phrases are characteristics of emotional religion found in diverse cultures, such as among the Rufais or Howling Dervishes, at Welsh revival meetings, and in Black churches in the Southern States. Therefore, there's no need to look for a special explanation in India, though there may be some link between the religious ecstasies of Vaishṇavas and Dervishes. In Caitanya's sect, caste wasn't observed. He reportedly welcomed many Muslims into the fold and viewed all worshippers of Kṛishṇa as equals. While caste has reemerged, the old regulation still applies within the Jagannath temple in Puri. Inside the sacred enclosure, everyone is treated as part of one caste and shares the same sacred food. Caitanya stated, "the mercy of God regards neither tribe nor family."
His theology[637] shows little originality. The deity is called Bhagavân or more frequently Hari. His majesty and omnipotence are personified as Nârâyaṇa, his beauty and ecstasy as Kṛishṇa. The material world is defined as bhedâbhedaprakâśa, a manifestation of the deity as separate and yet not separate from him, and the soul is vibhinnâṁśa or a detached portion of him. Some souls are in bondage to Prakṛiti or Mâyâ, others through faith and love attain deliverance. Reason is useless in religious matters, but ruci or spiritual feeling has a quick intuition of the divine.
His theology[637] lacks originality. The deity is referred to as Bhagavân or more commonly Hari. His greatness and all-powerfulness are represented as Nârâyaṇa, while his beauty and bliss are represented as Kṛishṇa. The material world is described as bhedâbhedaprakâśa, a manifestation of the deity that is both separate and not separate from him, and the soul is vibhinnâṁśa or a detached part of him. Some souls are trapped by Prakṛiti or Mâyâ, while others achieve liberation through faith and love. Reason doesn’t play a role in religious matters, but ruci or spiritual feeling provides an immediate understanding of the divine.
Salvation is obtained by Bhakti, faith or devotion, which embraces and supersedes all other duties. This devotion means absolute self-surrender to the deity and love for him which asks for no return but is its own reward. "He who expects remuneration for his love acts as a trader." In this devotion there are five degrees: (a) sânti, calm meditation, (b) dâsya, servitude, (c) sâkhya, friendship, (d) vâtsalya, love like that of a child for its parent, (e) mâdhurya, love like that of a woman for a lover. All these sentiments are found in God and this combined ecstasy is an eternal principle identified with Hari himself, just as in the language of the Gospels, God is love. Though Caitanya makes love the crown and culmination of religion, the worship of his followers is not licentious, and it is held that the right frame of mind is best attained by the recitation of Kṛishṇa's names especially Hari.
Salvation comes through Bhakti, which means faith or devotion, and it embraces and surpasses all other responsibilities. This devotion involves complete self-surrender to the deity and love for Him, demanding nothing in return and serving as its own reward. "He who expects something back for his love is like a trader." There are five levels of this devotion: (a) sânti, peaceful meditation, (b) dâsya, servitude, (c) sâkhya, friendship, (d) vâtsalya, the love of a child for a parent, and (e) mâdhurya, the love of a woman for her lover. All these feelings are found in God, and this combined ecstasy is an eternal truth associated with Hari himself, similar to how the Gospels express that God is love. While Caitanya highlights love as the peak of religion, the worship of his followers is not indulgent, and it is believed that the right mindset is best achieved through the recitation of Kṛishṇa's names, especially Hari.
The earlier centre of Caitanya's sect was his birthplace, Nadia, but both during his life and afterwards his disciples frequented Brindaban and sought out the old sacred sites which were at that time neglected. At the beginning of the nineteenth century Lala Baba, a wealthy Bengali merchant, became a mendicant and visited Muttra. Though he had renounced the world, he still retained his business instincts and bought up the villages which contained the most celebrated shrines and were most frequented by pilgrims. The result was a most profitable [256] speculation and the establishment of Caitanya's Church in the district of Braj, which thus became the holy land of both the great Krishnaite sects. The followers of Caitanya at the present day are said to be divided into Gosains, or ecclesiastics, who are the descendants of the founder's original disciples, the Vrikats or celibates, and the laity. Besides the celibates there are several semi-monastic orders who adopt the dress of monks but marry. They have numerous maṭhs at Nadia and elsewhere. Like the Vallabhis, this sect deifies its leaders. Caitanya, Nityânanda and Advaita are called the three masters (Prabhû) and believed to be a joint incarnation of Kṛishṇa, though according to some only the first two shared the divine essence. Six of Caitanya's disciples known as the six Gosains are also greatly venerated and even ordinary religious teachers still receive an almost idolatrous respect.
The original center of Caitanya's sect was his birthplace, Nadia, but both during his life and after, his disciples often visited Brindaban to seek out the old sacred sites that were neglected at the time. In the early nineteenth century, Lala Baba, a wealthy Bengali merchant, became a mendicant and traveled to Muttra. Even though he had renounced the material world, he still had a business mindset and bought up the villages that had the most famous shrines and were popular with pilgrims. This resulted in a highly profitable [256] venture and the establishment of Caitanya's Church in the Braj district, which then became a holy land for both major Krishnaite sects. Today, followers of Caitanya are said to be divided into Gosains, who are the descendants of the founder's original disciples, Vrikats or celibates, and the laity. In addition to the celibates, there are several semi-monastic orders that wear monk-like robes but still marry. They have many maṭhs in Nadia and elsewhere. Like the Vallabhis, this sect reveres its leaders as deities. Caitanya, Nityânanda, and Advaita are referred to as the three masters (Prabhû) and are believed to be a collective incarnation of Kṛishṇa, although some say only the first two share the divine essence. Six of Caitanya's disciples, known as the six Gosains, are also highly respected, and even ordinary religious teachers receive almost idol-like reverence.
Though Caitanya was not a writer himself he exercised a great influence on the literature of Bengal. In the opinion of so competent a judge as Dinesh Chandra Sen, Bengali was raised to the status of a literary language by the Vishnuite hymn-writers just as Pali was by the Buddhists. Such hymns were written before the time of Caitanya but after him they became extremely numerous[638] and their tone and style are said to change. The ecstasies and visions of which they tell are those described in his biographies and this emotional poetry has profoundly influenced all classes in Bengal. But there was and still is a considerable hostility between the Śâktas and Vishnuites.
Though Caitanya wasn't a writer himself, he had a significant impact on the literature of Bengal. According to a knowledgeable authority like Dinesh Chandra Sen, Bengali was elevated to a literary language by the Vishnuite hymn-writers, much like Pali was by the Buddhists. These hymns were created before Caitanya's time, but afterward, they became extremely numerous[638] and their tone and style are said to have changed. The ecstasies and visions they describe align with those mentioned in his biographies, and this emotional poetry has deeply influenced all social classes in Bengal. However, there has been, and still is, considerable hostility between the Śâktas and Vishnuites.
4
A form of Vishnuism, possessing a special local flavour, is connected with the Maratha country and with the names of Nâmdev, Tukârâm[639] and Râmdâs, the spiritual preceptor of Śivaji. The centre of this worship is the town of Pandharpur and I have not found it described as a branch of any of the four Vishnuite Churches: but the facts that Nâmdev wrote in Hindi as well as in Marathi, that many of his hymns are included in the Granth, and that his sentiments show affinities to the [257] teaching of Nânak, suggest that he belonged to the school of Râmânand. There is however a difficulty about his date. Native tradition gives 1270 as the year of his birth but the language of his poems both in Marathi and Hindi is said to be too modern for this period and to indicate that he lived about 1400,[640] when he might easily have felt the influence of Râmânand, for he travelled in the north.
A form of Vishnuism with a unique local flavor is associated with the Maratha region and the names of Nâmdev, Tukârâm[639] and Râmdâs, who was the spiritual guide of Śivaji. The main site of this worship is the town of Pandharpur, and I haven't found it characterized as part of any of the four Vishnuite sects. However, the fact that Nâmdev wrote in both Hindi and Marathi, that many of his hymns are included in the Granth, and that his ideas show similarities to the teachings of Nânak, suggests he was linked to the school of Râmânand. There is, however, a problem regarding his date of birth. Local tradition states that he was born in 1270, but the language of his poems in both Marathi and Hindi is thought to be too modern for that time, indicating he may have lived around 1400,[640] when he could easily have been influenced by Râmânand, given that he traveled to the north.
Most of his poetry however has for its centre the temple of Pandharpur where was worshipped a deity called Viṭṭhala, Viṭṭoba or Pâṇḍurang. It is said that the first two names are dialectic variations of Vishṇu, but that Pâṇḍurang is an epithet of Śiva.[641] There is no doubt that the deity of Pandharpur has for many centuries been identified with Kṛishṇa, who, as in Bengal, is god the lover of the soul. But the hymns of the Marathas are less sensuous and Kṛishṇa is coupled not with his mistress Râdhâ, but with his wife Rukmiṇî. In fact Rukmiṇîpati or husband of Rukmiṇî is one of his commonest titles. Nâmdev's opinions varied at different times and perhaps in different moods: like most religious poets he cannot be judged by logic or theology. Sometimes he inveighs against idolatry—understood as an attempt to limit God to an image—but in other verses he sings the praises of Pâṇḍurang, the local deity, as the lord and creator of all. His great message is that God—by whatever name he is called—is everywhere and accessible to all, accessible without ceremonial or philosophy. "Vows, fasts and austerities are not needful, nor need you go on pilgrimage. Be watchful in your heart and always sing the name of Hari. Yoga, sacrifices and renunciation are not needful. Love the feet of Hari. Neither need you contemplate the absolute. Hold fast to the love of Hari's name. Says Nâmâ, be steadfast in singing the name and then Hari will appear to you."[642]
Most of his poetry, however, centers around the temple of Pandharpur, where a deity known as Viṭṭhala, Viṭṭoba, or Pâṇḍurang is worshipped. It's said that the first two names are regional variations of Vishṇu, while Pâṇḍurang is an epithet for Śiva.[641] There is no doubt that for many centuries, the deity of Pandharpur has been identified with Kṛishṇa, who, similar to the concept in Bengal, is the god representing the lover of the soul. However, the hymns of the Marathas are less sensual, and Kṛishṇa is associated not with his mistress Râdhâ, but with his wife Rukmiṇî. In fact, Rukmiṇîpati, meaning the husband of Rukmiṇî, is one of his most common titles. Nâmdev's views changed over time and perhaps even with his mood: like many religious poets, he can't be judged solely by logic or theology. Sometimes he criticizes idolatry—defined as trying to confine God to an image—but in other verses, he praises Pâṇḍurang, the local deity, as the lord and creator of everything. His main message is that God—by whatever name you call Him—is everywhere and available to everyone, without the need for rituals or complex philosophies. "You don't need vows, fasting, or austerities; you don’t have to go on pilgrimages. Just be mindful in your heart and consistently sing the name of Hari. Yoga, sacrifices, and renunciation aren't necessary. Simply love the feet of Hari. There's no need to contemplate the absolute. Hold onto the love of Hari's name. Says Nâmâ, be determined in singing the name, and then Hari will come to you."[642]
Tukârâm is better known than Nâmdev and his poetry which was part of the intellectual awakening that accompanied the rise of the Maratha power is still a living force wherever Marathi is spoken. He lived from 1607 to 1649 and was born in a family of merchants near Poona. But he was too generous to succeed in trade and a famine, in which one of his two wives died, brought him to poverty. Thenceforth he devoted himself to praying and preaching. He developed a great aptitude for composing rhyming songs in irregular metre,[643] and like Caitanya he held services consisting of discourses interspersed with such songs, prepared or extempore. In spite of persecution by the Brahmans, these meetings became very popular and were even attended by the great Śivaji.
Tukârâm is better known than Nâmdev, and his poetry, which was part of the intellectual awakening that came with the rise of Maratha power, is still a vibrant force wherever Marathi is spoken. He lived from 1607 to 1649 and was born into a family of merchants near Poona. However, he was too generous to succeed in business, and a famine, which caused the death of one of his two wives, led him to poverty. From then on, he devoted himself to prayer and preaching. He developed a talent for composing rhyming songs in irregular meter,[643] and like Caitanya, he held services that combined discussions with such songs, whether prepared or spontaneous. Despite facing persecution from the Brahmans, these gatherings became very popular, even attracting the great Śivaji.
His creed is the same as that of Nâmdev and finds expression in verses such as these. "This thy nature is beyond the grasp of mind or words, and therefore I have made love a measure. I measure the Endless by the measure of love: he is not to be truly measured otherwise. Thou art not to be found by Yoga, sacrifice, fasting, bodily exertions or knowledge. O Keśava, accept the service which we render."
His belief is the same as that of Nâmdev and is expressed in verses like these: "Your essence is beyond the reach of thought or words, and so I've made love my standard. I measure the Infinite by the measure of love; you can't truly measure it any other way. You cannot be discovered through Yoga, sacrifice, fasting, physical effort, or knowledge. O Keśava, accept the service we offer."
But if he had no use for asceticism he also feared the passions. "The Endless is beyond; between him and me are the lofty mountains of desire and anger. I cannot ascend them and find no pass." In poems which are apparently later, his tone is more peaceful. He speaks much of the death of self, of purity of heart, and of self-dedication to God. "Dedicate all you do to God and have done with it: Tukâ says, do not ask me again and again: nothing else is to be taught but this."
But while he didn't find asceticism useful, he also feared his passions. "The Endless is beyond; between him and me are the high mountains of desire and anger. I cannot climb them and see no way through." In poems that seem to be from a later time, his tone is more peaceful. He talks a lot about losing oneself, having a pure heart, and fully dedicating oneself to God. "Make everything you do a dedication to God and be done with it: Tukâ says, don’t ask me over and over: nothing else needs to be taught except this."
Maratha critics have discussed whether Tukârâm followed the monistic philosophy of Śaṅkara or not and it must be confessed that his utterances are contradictory. But the gist of the matter is that he disliked not so much monism as philosophy. Hence he says "For me there is no use in the Advaita. Sweet to me is the service of thy feet. The relation between God and his devotee is a source of high joy. Make me feel this, keeping me distinct from thee." But he can also say almost in the language of the Upanishads. "When salt is dissolved in water, what remains distinct? I have thus become one in joy with thee and have lost myself in thee. When fire and camphor [259] are brought together, is there any black remnant? Tukâ says, thou and I were one light."
Maratha critics have debated whether Tukârâm followed the monistic philosophy of Śaṅkara, and it must be admitted that his statements are contradictory. But the main point is that he didn’t dislike monism as much as he disliked philosophy. So he states, "For me, the Advaita is useless. The service of your feet is sweet to me. The relationship between God and his devotee brings immense joy. Let me feel this while keeping me separate from you." Yet, he can also speak almost in the style of the Upanishads: "When salt dissolves in water, what remains distinct? I have thus become one in joy with you and have lost myself in you. When fire and camphor [259] come together, is there any black remnant? Tukâ says, you and I were one light."
5
There are interesting Vishnuite sects in Assam.[644] Until the sixteenth century Hinduism was represented in those regions by Śâktism, which was strong among the upper classes, though the mass of the people still adhered to their old tribal worships. The first apostle of Vishnuism was Śaṅkar Deb in the sixteenth century. He preached first in the Ahom kingdom but was driven out by the opposition of Śâktist Brahmans, and found a refuge at Barpeta. He appears to have inculcated the worship of Kṛishṇa as the sole divine being and to have denounced idolatry, sacrifices and caste. These views were held even more strictly by his successor, Madhab Deb, a writer of repute whose works, such as the Nâmghosha and Ratnâvalî, are regarded as scripture by his followers. Though the Brahmans of Assam were opposed to the introduction of Vishnuism and a section of them continued to instigate persecutions for two centuries or more, yet when it became clear that the new teaching had a great popular following another section were anxious that it should not pass out of sacerdotal control and organized it as a legitimate branch of Hinduism. While fully recognizing the doctrine of justification by faith, they also made provision for due respect to caste and Brahmanic authority.
There are intriguing Vishnu sects in Assam.[644] Until the sixteenth century, Hinduism in that region was mostly represented by Śāktism, which was popular among the upper classes, though the majority of the people still followed their traditional tribal worships. The first proponent of Vishnuism was Śaṅkar Deb in the sixteenth century. He started preaching in the Ahom kingdom but was expelled due to opposition from Śāktist Brahmans and took refuge in Barpeta. He promoted the worship of Kṛishṇa as the one true divine being and rejected idolatry, sacrifices, and caste distinctions. His successor, Madhab Deb, who was a well-known writer, held these beliefs even more closely. His works, like the Nâmghosha and Ratnâvalî, are considered sacred texts by his followers. Although the Brahmans of Assam fought against the spread of Vishnuism and some continued to incite persecution for over two centuries, when it became obvious that the new teachings had gained significant popular support, another group within the Brahmans wanted to ensure it remained under their control and thus organized it as a legitimate branch of Hinduism. While acknowledging the idea of justification by faith, they also made sure to uphold respect for caste and Brahmanic authority.
According to the last census of India[645] the common view that Śaṅkar Deb drew his inspiration from Caitanya meets with criticism in Assam. His biographies say that he lived 120 years and died in 1569. It has been generally assumed that his age has been exaggerated but that the date of his death is correct. If it can be proved, as contended, that he was preaching in 1505, there would be no difficulty in admitting that he was independent of Caitanya and belonged to an earlier phase of the Vishnuite movement which produced the activity of Vallabha and the poetry of Vidyâpati. It is a further argument for this independence that he taught the worship of Vishṇu only and not of Râdhâ and discountenanced the use of images. On the other hand it is stated that he sojourned in Bengal and it [260] appears that soon after his death his connection with the teaching of Caitanya was recognized in Assam.
According to the last census of India[645], the common belief that Śaṅkar Deb drew his inspiration from Caitanya has faced criticism in Assam. His biographies state that he lived for 120 years and died in 1569. It's generally thought that his age has been exaggerated, but the date of his death is accepted as accurate. If it can be proven, as some argue, that he was preaching in 1505, then it would be easy to accept that he was independent of Caitanya and belonged to an earlier phase of the Vishnuite movement that led to the activities of Vallabha and the poetry of Vidyā-pati. Another point supporting this independence is that he taught the worship of Vishṇu only and did not promote the worship of Rādhā or the use of images. However, it is noted that he spent time in Bengal, and it seems that shortly after his death, his connection to Caitanya's teachings was acknowledged in Assam.
At present there are three sects in Assam. Firstly, the Mahâpurushias, who follow more or less faithfully the doctrines of Śaṅkar and Madhab. They admit Śûdras as religious teachers and abbots, and lay little stress on caste while not entirely rejecting it. They abstain almost entirely from the use of images in worship, the only exception being that a small figure of Kṛishṇa in the form of Vaikuṇṭha Nâtha is found in their temples. It is not the principal object of veneration but stands to the left of a throne on which lies a copy of the Nâmghosha.[646] This, together with the foot-prints of Śaṅkar and Madhab, receives the homage of the faithful. The chief centre of the Mahâpurushias is Barpeta, but they have also monasteries on the Majuli Island and elsewhere. Secondly, the Bamunia monasteries, with a large lay following, represent a brahmanized form of the Mahâpurushia faith. This movement began in the life-time of Madhab. Many of his Brahman disciples seceded from him and founded separate communities which insisted on the observance of caste (especially on the necessity of religious teachers being Brahmans) but tolerated image-worship and the use of some kinds of flesh as food. Though this sect was persecuted by the Ahom kings,[647] they were strong enough to maintain themselves. A compromise was effected in the reign of Rudra Singh (1696-1714), by which their abbots were shown all honour but were assigned the Majuli Island in the upper Brahmaputra as their chief, if not only, residence. This island is still studded with numerous Sattras or monasteries, the largest of which contain three or four hundred monks, known as Bhakats (Bhaktas). They take no vows and wear no special costume but are obliged to be celibate while they remain in the sattra. The Mahâpurushia and Bamunia monasteries are of similar appearance, and in externals (though not in doctrine) seem to have been influenced by the Lamaism of the neighbouring regions of Sikhim and Tibet. The temples are long, low, wooden buildings, covered by roofs of corrugated iron or thatched, [261] and containing inside a nave with two rows of wooden pillars which leads to a sanctuary divided from it by a screen. The third sect are the Moamarias, of political rather than religious importance. They represent a democratic element, recruited from non-Hindu tribes, which seceded even in the life-time of Śaṅkar Deb. They appear to reject nearly all Hindu observances and to worship aboriginal deities as well as Kṛishṇa. Little is known of their religious teaching, if indeed they have anything worthy of the name, but in the latter half of the eighteenth century they distracted the kingdom of Assam with a series of rebellions which were suppressed with atrocious cruelty.
Currently, there are three sects in Assam. First are the Mahâpurushias, who mostly adhere to the teachings of Śaṅkar and Madhab. They allow Śûdras to be religious teachers and abbots, and they don’t place much importance on caste, even though they don’t completely reject it. They largely avoid using images in worship, with a small exception for a figure of Kṛishṇa in the form of Vaikuṇṭha Nâtha found in their temples. This figure isn't the main object of worship but is positioned to the left of a throne that holds a copy of the Nâmghosha.[646] Along with the footprints of Śaṅkar and Madhab, this figure receives reverence from the followers. The main center of the Mahâpurushias is Barpeta, but they also have monasteries on Majuli Island and other locations. Second are the Bamunia monasteries, which have a large lay following and represent a more Brahmanized version of the Mahâpurushia faith. This movement started during Madhab's lifetime. Many of his Brahman disciples broke away to form separate communities that insisted on observing caste (especially requiring religious teachers to be Brahmans) but allowed image worship and some types of meat. Although this sect faced persecution from the Ahom kings,[647] they were strong enough to survive. A compromise was reached during the reign of Rudra Singh (1696-1714), where their abbots were honored but were given Majuli Island in the upper Brahmaputra as their main, if not sole, residence. This island is still dotted with numerous Sattras or monasteries, the largest housing three or four hundred monks known as Bhakats (Bhaktas). They do not take vows or wear special clothing but must remain celibate while living in the sattra. The Mahâpurushia and Bamunia monasteries share a similar appearance and, while differing in doctrine, seem to have been influenced by the Lamaism of the nearby regions of Sikhim and Tibet. The temples are long, low wooden buildings with roofs made of corrugated iron or thatch, [261] and feature an interior nave supported by two rows of wooden pillars, leading to a sanctuary that is separated from it by a screen. The third sect is the Moamarias, who are more politically than religiously significant. They embody a democratic element that includes non-Hindu tribes and broke away even during Śaṅkar Deb’s lifetime. They seem to reject almost all Hindu practices and worship both indigenous deities and Kṛishṇa. Not much is known about their religious teachings, if they have any that are noteworthy, but in the late eighteenth century, they caused significant unrest in Assam with a series of rebellions that were suppressed with extreme brutality.
Caitanya is said to have admitted some Mohammedans as members of his sect. The precedent has not been followed among most branches of his later adherents but a curious half-secret sect, found throughout Bengal in considerable numbers and called Kartâbhajas,[648] appears to represent an eccentric development of his teaching in combination with Mohammedan elements. Both Moslims and Hindus belong to this sect. They observe the ordinary social customs of the class to which they belong, but it is said that those who are nominal Moslims neither circumcize themselves nor frequent mosques. The founder, called Ram Smaran Pal, was born in the Nadia district about 1700, and his chief doctrine is said to have been that there is only one God who is incarnate in the Head of the sect or Kartâ.[649] For the first few generations the headship was invested in the founder and his descendants but dissensions occurred and there is now no one head: the faithful can select any male member of the founder's family as the object of their devotion. The Kartâ claims to be the owner of every human body and is said to exact rent for the soul's tenancy thereof. No distinction of caste or creed is recognized and hardly any ceremonies are prescribed but meat and wine are forbidden, the mantra of the sect is to be repeated five times a day and Friday is held sacred. These observances seem an imitation of Mohammedanism.[650]
Caitanya is said to have accepted some Muslims as members of his sect. This precedent hasn’t been followed by most branches of his later followers, but a curious half-secret sect found throughout Bengal in significant numbers, called Kartâbhajas,[648] seems to represent an unusual development of his teachings combined with Muslim elements. Both Muslims and Hindus are part of this sect. They follow the regular social customs of their class, but it’s said that those who are nominal Muslims neither circumcise themselves nor go to mosques. The founder, Ram Smaran Pal, was born in the Nadia district around 1700, and his main doctrine is said to be that there is only one God who is incarnate in the Head of the sect or Kartâ.[649] For the first few generations, leadership was held by the founder and his descendants, but disagreements arose, and there is now no single leader: the faithful can choose any male member of the founder's family as the focus of their devotion. The Kartâ claims ownership of every human body and is said to charge rent for the soul's tenancy. There is no distinction of caste or creed recognized, and very few ceremonies are prescribed, but meat and wine are forbidden, the sect's mantra is to be repeated five times a day, and Friday is considered sacred. These practices seem to imitate Islam.[650]
FOOTNOTES:
[604] See Bhandarkar, Vaishn. and Śaivism, pp. 66 ff., Grierson in Ind. Ant. 1893, p. 226, and also in article Ramanandi in E.R.E.; Farquhar, J.R.A.S.1920, pp. 185 ff. Though Indian tradition seems to be unanimous in giving 1299 A.D. (4400 Kali) as the date of Râmânand's birth, all that we know about himself and his disciples makes it more probable that he was born nearly a century later. The history of ideas, too, becomes clear and intelligible if we suppose that Râmânand, Kabir and Nanak flourished about 1400, 1450 and 1500 respectively. One should be cautious in allowing such arguments to outweigh unanimous tradition, but tradition also assigns to Râmânand an improbably long life, thus indicating a feeling that he influenced the fifteenth century. Also the traditions as to the number of teachers between Râmânuja and Râmânand differ greatly.
[604] See Bhandarkar, Vaishn. and Śaivism, pp. 66 ff., Grierson in Ind. Ant. 1893, p. 226, and also in the article Ramanandi in E.R.E.; Farquhar, J.R.A.S. 1920, pp. 185 ff. Although Indian tradition seems to agree on 1299 A.D. (4400 Kali) as the date of Râmânand's birth, the information we have about him and his followers suggests he was likely born nearly a century later. The history of ideas also becomes clearer if we assume that Râmânand, Kabir, and Nanak were active around 1400, 1450, and 1500 respectively. One should be careful not to let such arguments outweigh a unanimous tradition, but tradition also credits Râmânand with an improbably long life, indicating a belief that he had an influence in the fifteenth century. Additionally, the accounts of the number of teachers between Râmânuja and Râmânand vary widely.
[608] Thus we have the poems of Kabir, Nânak and others contained in the Granth of the Sikhs and tending to Mohammedanism: the hymns wherein Mirâ Bai, Vallabha and his disciples praised Kṛishṇa in Râjputâna and Braj: the poets inspired by Caitanya in Bengal: Śaṅkar Deb and Madhab Deb in Assam: Namdev and Tukârâm in the Maratha country.
[608] So we have the poems of Kabir, Nânak, and others included in the Sikh Granth and leaning towards Islam: the hymns where Mirâ Bai, Vallabha, and his followers celebrated Kṛishṇa in Râjputâna and Braj: the poets inspired by Caitanya in Bengal: Śaṅkar Deb and Madhab Deb in Assam: Namdev and Tukârâm in the Maratha region.
[609] See Beames, J.A. 1873, pp. 37 ff., and Grierson, Maithili Christomathy, pp. 34 ff., in extra No. to Journ. As. Soc. Bengal, Part I. for 1882 and Coomaraswamy's illustrated translation of Vidyâpati, 1915. It is said that a land grant proves he was a celebrated Pandit in 1400. The Bengali Vaishṇava poet Chaṇḍî Dâs was his contemporary.
[609] See Beames, J.A. 1873, pp. 37 ff., and Grierson, Maithili Christomathy, pp. 34 ff., in extra No. to Journ. As. Soc. Bengal, Part I. for 1882 and Coomaraswamy's illustrated translation of Vidyâpati, 1915. It's said that a land grant confirms he was a well-known Pandit in 1400. The Bengali Vaishṇava poet Chaṇḍî Dâs was his contemporary.
[612] Similarly Dinesh Chandra Sen (Lang, and Lit. of Bengal, p. 170) says that Krittivâsa's translation of the Râmâyaṇa "is the Bible of the people of the Gangetic Valley and it is for the most part the peasants who read it." Krittivâsa was born in 1346 and roughly contemporary with Râmânand. Thus the popular interest in Râma was roused in different provinces at the same time.
[612] Similarly, Dinesh Chandra Sen (Lang, and Lit. of Bengal, p. 170) states that Krittivâsa's translation of the Râmâyaṇa "is the Bible of the people of the Gangetic Valley and it is mostly the peasants who read it." Krittivâsa was born in 1346 and was roughly contemporary with Râmânand. Therefore, the popular interest in Râma was sparked in different regions at the same time.
He also wrote several other poems, among which may be mentioned the Gîtâvalî and Kavittâvalî, dedicated respectively to the infancy and the heroic deeds of Râma, and the Vinaya Pattrikâ or petition, a volume of hymns and prayers.
He also wrote several other poems, including the Gîtâvalî and Kavittâvalî, which are dedicated to the early life and heroic deeds of Râma, and the Vinaya Pattrikâ, a collection of hymns and prayers.
[615] Ib. vol. II. p. 54.
[616] Ib. vol. I. p. 77.
[617] Growse, l.c. vol. II. p. 200, cf. p. 204. Mâyâ who sets the whole world dancing and whose actions no one can understand is herself set dancing with all her troupe, like an actress on the stage, by the play of the Lord's eyebrows. Cf. too, for the infinity of worlds, pp. 210, 211.
[617] Growse, l.c. vol. II. p. 200, cf. p. 204. Mâyâ, who makes the entire world dance and whose actions are beyond comprehension, is herself dancing along with her entire ensemble, like an actress on stage, influenced by the play of the Lord's eyebrows. See also, for the infinity of worlds, pp. 210, 211.
[619] Ib. vol. II. p. 223.
[620] Ib. vol. II. p. 196.
[621] The Vishnuite sect called Nimâvat is said to have been exterminated by Jains (Grierson in E.R.E. sub. V. Bhakti-mârga, p. 545). This may point to persecution during this period.
[621] The Vishnuite group known as Nimâvat is reported to have been wiped out by Jains (Grierson in E.R.E. sub. V. Bhakti-mârga, p. 545). This could indicate that there was persecution during this time.
[622] For Vallabhâcârya and his sect, see especially Growse, Mathurâ, a district memoir, 1874; History of the sect of the Mahârâjas in western India (anonymous), 1865. Also Bhandarkar, Vaishṇ. and Saivism, pp. 76-82 and Farquhar, Outlines of Relig. Lit. of India, pp. 312-317.
[622] For Vallabhâcârya and his sect, refer to Growse, Mathurâ, a district memoir, 1874; History of the sect of the Mahârâjas in western India (anonymous), 1865. Also see Bhandarkar, Vaishṇ. and Saivism, pp. 76-82 and Farquhar, Outlines of Relig. Lit. of India, pp. 312-317.
[623] The principal of them are the Siddhânta-Rahasya and the Bhâgavata-Tîka-Subodhini, a commentary on the Bhâgavata Purâṇa. This is a short poem of only seventeen lines printed in Growse's Mathurâ, p. 156. It professes to be a revelation from the deity to the effect that sin can be done away with by union with Brahma (Brahma-sambandha-karaṇât). Other authoritative works of the sect are the Śuddhâdvaita mârtaṇḍa, Sakalâcâryamatasangraha and Prameyaratnârṇava, all edited in the Chowkhamba Sanskrit series.
[623] The main ones are the Siddhānta-Rahasya and the Bhāgavata-Tīka-Subodhini, a commentary on the Bhāgavata Purāṇa. This is a brief poem of just seventeen lines published in Growse's Mathurā, p. 156. It claims to be a revelation from the deity stating that sin can be eliminated through union with Brahma (Brahma-sambandha-karaṇāt). Other key works of the sect include the Śuddhādvaita mārtanḍa, Sakalācāryamatasangraha, and Prameyaratnārṇava, all published in the Chowkhamba Sanskrit series.
[625] Growse, Mathurâ, p. 157, says this formula is based on the Nâradapancarâtra. It is called Samarpana, dedication, or Brahma-sambandha, connecting oneself with the Supreme Being.
[625] Growse, Mathurâ, p. 157, states that this formula is derived from the Nâradapancarâtra. It's referred to as Samarpana, meaning dedication, or Brahma-sambandha, which connects oneself with the Supreme Being.
[626] For instance "Whoever holds his Guru and Kṛishṇa to be distinct and different shall be born again as a bird." Harirayaji 32. Quoted in History of the Sect of the Mahârâjas, p. 82.
[626] For example, "Anyone who sees their Guru and Kṛishṇa as separate and different will be reborn as a bird." Harirayaji 32. Quoted in History of the Sect of the Mahârâjas, p. 82.
[627] In the ordinary ceremonial the Maharaj stands beside the image of Kṛishṇa and acknowledges the worship offered. Sometimes he is swung in a swing with or without the image. The hymns sung on these occasions are frequently immoral. Even more licentious are the meetings or dances known as Ras Mandali and Ras Lîlâ. A meal of hot food seasoned with aphrodisiacs is also said to be provided in the temples. The water in which the Maharaj's linen or feet have been washed is sold for a high price and actually drunk by devotees.
[627] During the regular ceremonies, the Maharaj stands next to the image of Kṛishṇa and accepts the worship given. Sometimes, he's placed in a swing, with or without the image. The hymns sung during these events are often inappropriate. Even more provocative are the gatherings or dances known as Ras Mandali and Ras Lîlâ. It's also said that a meal of hot food, spiced with aphrodisiacs, is served in the temples. Devotees buy and actually drink the water that's been used to wash the Maharaj's linens or feet, often at a high price.
[628] Strictly speaking the Râdhâ-Vallabhis are not an offshoot of Vallabha's school, but of the Nimâvats or of the Mâdhva-sampradâya. The theory underlying their strange practices seems to be that Kṛishṇa is the only male and that all mankind should cultivate sentiments of female love for him. See Macnicol, Indian Theism, p. 134.
[628] Technically, the Râdhâ-Vallabhis are not a branch of Vallabha's school, but of the Nimâvats or the Mâdhva tradition. The idea behind their unusual practices appears to be that Kṛishṇa is the only male and that all of humanity should nurture feelings of feminine love for him. See Macnicol, Indian Theism, p. 134.
[631] His real name was Sahajânanda.
His real name was Sahajânanda.
[632] Caran Das (1703-1782) founded a somewhat similar sect which professed to abolish idolatry and laid great stress on ethics. See Grierson's article Caran Das in E.R.E.
[632] Caran Das (1703-1782) started a similar sect that aimed to eliminate idolatry and emphasized the importance of ethics. See Grierson's article Caran Das in E.R.E.
[633] But Vishnuite writers distinguish kâma desire and prema love, just as ερως and ἁγἁπη are distinguished in Greek. See Dinesh Chandra Sen, l.c. p. 485.
[633] But Vishnuite writers differentiate between kâma desire and prema love, just as ερως and ἁγἁπη are differentiated in Greek. See Dinesh Chandra Sen, l.c. p. 485.
[635] For Caitanya see Dinesh Chandra Sen, History of Bengali Language and Lit. chap. V. and Jadunath Sarkar, Chaitanya's Pilgrimages and teachings from the Caitanya-Caritâmrita of Kṛishṇa Das (1590) founded on the earlier Caitanya-Caritra of Brindavan. Several of Caitanya's followers were also voluminous writers.
[635] For Caitanya, see Dinesh Chandra Sen, History of Bengali Language and Literature, chap. V, and Jadunath Sarkar, Chaitanya's Pilgrimages and Teachings from the Caitanya-Caritâmrita by Kṛishṇa Das (1590), which is based on the earlier Caitanya-Caritra by Brindavan. Many of Caitanya's followers were also prolific writers.
[637] The theology of the sect may be studied in Baladeva's commentary on the Vedânta sûtras and his Prameya Ratnâvalî, both contained in vol. V. of the Sacred Books of the Hindus. It would appear that the sect regards itself as a continuation of the Brahma-sampradâya but its tenets have more resemblance to those of Vallabha.
[637] You can explore the beliefs of the sect in Baladeva's commentary on the Vedânta sûtras and his Prameya Ratnâvalî, both found in vol. V. of the Sacred Books of the Hindus. It seems that the sect sees itself as a continuation of the Brahma-sampradâya, but its principles are more similar to those of Vallabha.
[638] No less than 159 padakartâs or religious poets are enumerated by Dinesh Chandra Sen. Several collections of these poems have been published of which the principal is called Padakalpataru.
[638] Dinesh Chandra Sen lists at least 159 padakartâs, or religious poets. Multiple collections of these poems have been published, the main one being called Padakalpataru.
[639] See Bhandarkar, Vaishṇ. and Śaivism, pp. 87-90, and Nicol, Psalms of Maratha Saints which gives a bibliography. For Nâmdev see also Macauliffe, The Sikh Religion, vol. VI. pp. 17-76. For Ramdas see Rawlinson, Sivaji the Maratha, pp. 116 ff.
[639] Check out Bhandarkar, Vaishṇ. and Śaivism, pp. 87-90, and Nicol, Psalms of Maratha Saints, which includes a bibliography. For Nâmdev, see also Macauliffe, The Sikh Religion, vol. VI, pp. 17-76. For Ramdas, refer to Rawlinson, Sivaji the Maratha, pp. 116 ff.
[640] Bhandarkar, l.c. p. 92. An earlier poet of this country was Jñâneśvara who wrote a paraphrase of the Bhagavad-gîtâ in 1290. His writings are said to be the first great landmark in Marathi literature.
[640] Bhandarkar, l.c. p. 92. A previous poet from this country was Jñâneśvara, who created a version of the Bhagavad-gîtâ in 1290. His works are considered the first significant milestone in Marathi literature.
[641] There is no necessary hostility between the worship of Śiva and of Vishṇu. At Pandharpur pilgrims visit first a temple of Śiva and then the principal shrine. This latter, like the temple of Jagannath at Puri, is suspected of having been a Buddhist shrine. It is called Vihâra, the principal festival is in the Buddhist Lent and caste is not observed within its precincts.
[641] There’s no required conflict between the worship of Śiva and Vishṇu. At Pandharpur, pilgrims first visit a temple of Śiva and then the main shrine. This main shrine, similar to the Jagannath temple in Puri, is believed to have once been a Buddhist shrine. It’s called Vihâra, the biggest festival occurs during the Buddhist Lent, and caste distinctions are not enforced within its grounds.
[642] Quoted by Bhandarkar, p. 90. The subsequent quotations are from the same source but I have sometimes slightly modified them and compared them with the original, though I have no pretension to be a Marathi scholar.
[642] Quoted by Bhandarkar, p. 90. The following quotes are from the same source, but I’ve made some slight adjustments and checked them against the original, even though I don’t pretend to be a Marathi expert.
[643] Called Abhangs.
Called Abhangs.
[646] Some authorities state that the sacred book thus venerated is the Bhagavad-gîtâ, but at Kamalabari I made careful enquiries and was assured it was the Nâmghosha.
[646] Some experts say that the revered scripture is the Bhagavad-gîtâ, but at Kamalabari, I asked around and was told it was the Nâmghosha.
[647] Especially Gadadhar Singh, 1681-96.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Especially Gadadhar Singh, 1681-96.
[649] Karta, literally doer, is the name given to the executive head of a joint family in Bengal. The sect prefer to call themselves Bhabajanas or Bhagawanis.
[649] Karta, which means doer, is the title for the head of a joint family in Bengal. The group likes to refer to themselves as Bhabajanas or Bhagawanis.
[650] Another mixed sect is that of the Dhâmis in the Panna state of Bundelkhand, founded by one Prannâth in the reign of Aurungzeb. Their doctrine is a combination of Hinduism and Islam, tending towards Krishnaism. See Russell, Tribes and Castes of Central Provinces, p. 217.
[650] Another mixed group is the Dhâmis in the Panna region of Bundelkhand, founded by Prannâth during Aurungzeb's reign. Their belief system is a blend of Hinduism and Islam, leaning towards Krishnaism. See Russell, Tribes and Castes of Central Provinces, p. 217.
CHAPTER XXXI
AMALGAMATION OF HINDUISM AND ISLAM. KABIR AND THE SIKHS
1
The Kartâbhajas mentioned at the end of the last chapter show a mixture of Hinduism and Mohammedanism, and the mixture[651] is found in other sects some of which are of considerable importance. A group of these sects, including the Sikhs and followers of Kabir, arose in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. Their origin can be traced to Râmânand but they cannot be called Vaishṇavas and they are clearly distinguished from all the religious bodies that we have hitherto passed in review. The tone of their writings is more restrained and severe: the worshipper approaches the deity as a servant rather than a lover: caste is rejected as useless: Hindu mythology is eschewed or used sparingly. Yet in spite of these differences the essential doctrines of Tulsi Das, Kabir and Nânak show a great resemblance. They all believe in one deity whom they call by various names, but this deity, though personal, remains of the Indian not of the Semitic type. He somehow brings the world of transmigration into being by his power of illusion, and the business of the soul is to free itself from the illusion and return to him. Almost all these teachers, whether orthodox or heterodox, had a singular facility for composing hymns, often of high literary merit, and it is in these emotional utterances, rather than in dogmatic treatises, that they addressed themselves to the peoples of northern India.
The Kartâbhajas mentioned at the end of the last chapter represent a blend of Hinduism and Islam, and this mix is also seen in other sects, some of which are quite significant. A group of these sects, including the Sikhs and followers of Kabir, emerged in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. Their roots can be traced back to Râmânand, but they can’t be classified as Vaishṇavas, and they are clearly distinct from all the religious groups we have reviewed so far. The tone of their writings is more restrained and serious: the worshipper approaches the deity as a servant rather than as a lover; caste is dismissed as unnecessary; Hindu mythology is avoided or used sparingly. Yet despite these differences, the core beliefs of Tulsi Das, Kabir, and Nânak show significant similarities. They all believe in one deity, referred to by various names, but this deity, while personal, is of the Indian rather than the Semitic type. He somehow brings the world of reincarnation into existence through his power of illusion, and the goal of the soul is to break free from that illusion and return to him. Almost all these teachers, whether orthodox or unorthodox, had a remarkable talent for creating hymns, often of high literary quality, and it is in these emotional expressions, rather than in dogmatic writings, that they connected with the people of northern India.
The earliest of these mixed sects is that founded by Kabir.[652] He appears to have been a Mohammedan weaver by birth, [263] though tradition is not unanimous on this point.[653] It is admitted, however, that he was brought up among Moslims at Benares but became a disciple of Râmânand. This suggests that he lived early in the fifteenth century.[654] Another tradition says that he was summoned before Sikander Lodi (1489-1517), but the details of his life are evidently legendary. We only know that he was married and had a son, that he taught in northern and perhaps central India and died at Maghar in the district of Gorakhpur. There is significance, however, in the legend which relates that after his decease Hindus and Mohammedans disputed as to whether his body should be burned or buried. But when they raised the cloth which covered the corpse, they found underneath it only a heap of flowers. So the Hindus took part and burnt them at Benares and the Moslims buried the rest at Maghar. His grave there is still in Moslim keeping.
The earliest of these mixed sects is the one founded by Kabir.[652] He appears to have been born a Muslim weaver, [263] though there isn't complete agreement on this point.[653] It is generally accepted that he grew up among Muslims in Benares but later became a disciple of Râmânand. This suggests he lived in the early fifteenth century.[654] Another account claims he was called before Sikander Lodi (1489-1517), but many details about his life are clearly legendary. What we do know is that he was married, had a son, taught in northern and possibly central India, and died in Maghar in the Gorakhpur district. There is a notable legend stating that after his death, Hindus and Muslims argued over whether his body should be cremated or buried. However, when they lifted the cloth covering his body, they found only a pile of flowers beneath it. So the Hindus took their share and cremated them in Benares, while the Muslims buried the rest in Maghar. His grave there is still maintained by Muslims.
In teaching Kabir stands midway between the two religions, but leaning to the side of Hinduism. It is clear that this Hindu bias became stronger in his followers, but it is not easy to separate his own teaching from subsequent embellishments, for the numerous hymns and sayings attributed to him are collected in compilations made after his death, such as the Bijak and the Âdi-granth of the Sikhs. In hymns which sound authentic he puts Hindus and Moslims on the same footing.
In his teaching, Kabir is positioned between the two religions but leans toward Hinduism. It's evident that this Hindu influence intensified among his followers, but it's challenging to distinguish his original teachings from later additions. The many hymns and sayings attributed to him were compiled after his death, in collections like the Bijak and the Âdi-granth of the Sikhs. In hymns that seem genuine, he levels both Hindus and Muslims as equals.
"Kabir is a child of Ram and Allah," he says, "and accepteth all Gurus and Pirs." "O God, whether Allah or Ram, I live by thy name."
"Kabir is a child of Ram and Allah," he says, "and accepts all Gurus and Pirs." "O God, whether Allah or Ram, I live by your name."
Conscience is its main teacher.
Then, O priest, invite people to pray at that mosque. Which has five gates.
"The Hindus and Muslims have the same God."
But the formalities of both creeds are impartially condemned. "They are good riders who keep aloof from the Veda and Koran."[655] Caste, circumcision and idolatry are reprobated. The Hindu deities and their incarnations are all dead: God was not [264] in any of them.[656] Ram, it would seem, should be understood not as Râmacandra but as a name of God.
But the formalities of both religions are equally criticized. "They are good riders who stay away from the Veda and Koran."[655] Caste, circumcision, and idolatry are condemned. The Hindu gods and their incarnations are all gone: God was not [264] in any of them.[656] Ram, it seems, should be understood not as Râmacandra but as a name for God.
Yet the general outlook is Hindu rather than Mohammedan. God is the magician who brings about this illusory world in which the soul wanders.[657] "I was in immobile and mobile creatures, in worms and in moths; I passed through many various births. But when I assumed a human body, I was a Yogi, a Yati, a penitent, a Brahmacâri: sometimes an Emperor and sometimes a beggar." Unlike the Sikhs, Kabir teaches the sanctity of life, even of plants. "Thou cuttest leaves, O flower girl: in every leaf there is life." Release, as for all Hindus, consists in escaping from the round of births and deaths. Of this he speaks almost in the language of the Buddha.[658]
Yet the overall perspective is more Hindu than Muslim. God is the magician who creates this illusionary world where the soul drifts. [657] "I existed in both still and moving beings, in worms and in moths; I went through many different lives. But when I took on a human form, I was a Yogi, a Yati, a penitent, a Brahmacâri: sometimes a ruler and sometimes a beggar." Unlike Sikhs, Kabir teaches that life is sacred, even in plants. "You cut leaves, O flower girl: every leaf holds life." Liberation, as it is for all Hindus, means escaping the cycle of birth and death. He speaks of this almost in the language of the Buddha. [658]
The strings and wires of the musical instrument are all worn out:
I’m now under the power of God's name.
I won’t have to dance to the rhythm of birth and death anymore. "Nor will my heart follow the drum."
This deliverance is accomplished by the union or identification of the soul with God.
This salvation is achieved through the soul's connection or identification with God.
The person I was searching for outside myself, I now discover within me....
Know God: by knowing Him, you will become like Him.
"When the soul and God are united, no one can tell them apart."[659]
But if he sometimes writes like Śaṅkara, he also has the note of the Psalms and Gospels. He has the sense of sin: he thinks of God in vivid personal metaphors, as a lord, a bridegroom, a parent, both father and mother.
But if he occasionally writes like Śaṅkara, he also carries the tone of the Psalms and Gospels. He understands sin deeply; he imagines God using striking personal metaphors, as a lord, a bridegroom, a parent, both father and mother.
"I forgot the one who created me and turned to others." [265] "Sing the wedding song." The sovereign God has come to my home as my husband....
"I've found God as my partner; my luck has been incredible."
Oh God, I am your child:
Why don’t you cancel out my sins?..."
"How should I approach that Father?"[660]
The writings of Kabir's disciples such as the Sukh Nidhan attributed to Srut Gopal (and written according to Westcott about 1729) and the still later Amar Mul, which is said to be representative of the modern Kabirpanth, show a greater inclination to Pantheism, though caste and idolatry are still condemned. In these works, which relate the conversion of Dharm Das afterwards one of Kabir's principal followers, Kabir is identified with the Creator and then made a pantheistic deity much as Kṛishṇa in the Bhagavad-gîtâ.[661] He is also the true Guru whose help is necessary for salvation. Stress is further laid on the doctrine of Śabda, or the divine word. Hindu theology was familiar with this expression as signifying the eternal self-existent revelation contained in the Vedas. Kabir appears to have held that articulate sound is an expression of the Deity and that every letter, as a constituent of such sound, has a meaning. But these letters are due to Mâyâ: in reality there is no plurality of sound. Ram seems to have been selected as the divine name, because its brevity is an approach to this unity, but true knowledge is to understand the Letterless One, that is the real name or essence of God from which all differentiation of letters has vanished. Apart from some special metaphors the whole doctrine set forth in the Sukh Nidhan [266] and Amar Mul is little more than a loose Vedantism, somewhat reminiscent of Sufiism.[662]
The writings of Kabir's disciples, like the Sukh Nidhan attributed to Srut Gopal (written around 1729 according to Westcott), and the later Amar Mul, which represents modern Kabirpanth, show a stronger tendency towards Pantheism, although caste and idolatry are still criticized. In these works, which tell the story of the conversion of Dharm Das, who later became one of Kabir's main followers, Kabir is identified with the Creator and portrayed as a pantheistic deity similar to Kṛishṇa in the Bhagavad-gîtâ.[661] He is also recognized as the true Guru whose assistance is essential for salvation. There is an emphasis on the doctrine of Śabda, or the divine word. Hindu theology was already using this term to signify the eternal, self-existent revelation found in the Vedas. Kabir seemed to believe that spoken sound is a representation of the Deity and that each letter, as part of that sound, carries significance. However, these letters are a product of Mâyâ: in truth, there is no diversity in sound. Ram appears to have been chosen as the divine name because its brevity suggests unity, but true understanding is about grasping the Letterless One, which is the real name or essence of God from which all distinctions of letters have disappeared. Aside from some unique metaphors, the overall doctrine presented in the Sukh Nidhan [266] and Amar Mul is essentially a loose form of Vedantism, which bears some resemblance to Sufism.[662]
The teaching of Kabir is known as the Kabirpanth. At present there are both Hindus and Mohammedans among his followers and both have monasteries at Maghar where he is buried. The sect numbers in all about a million.[663] It is said that the two divisions have little in common except veneration of Kabir and do not intermix, but they both observe the practice of partaking of sacred meals, holy water,[664] and consecrated betel nut. The Hindu section is again divided into two branches known as Father (Bap) and Mother (Mai).
The teachings of Kabir are referred to as the Kabirpanth. Today, his followers include both Hindus and Muslims, and both groups have monasteries in Maghar, where he is buried. The sect has around a million members.[663] It's said that the two divisions share little in common aside from their respect for Kabir and typically don't mix, but they both practice sharing sacred meals, holy water,[664] and consecrated betel nut. The Hindu group is further split into two branches known as Father (Bap) and Mother (Mai).
Though there is not much that is original in the doctrines of Kabir, he is a considerable figure in Hindi literature and may justly be called epoch-making as marking the first fusion of Hinduism and Islam which culminates and attains political importance in the Sikhs. Other offshoots of his teaching are the Satnâmîs, Râdhâ-swâmis and Dâdupanthis. The first were founded or reorganized in 1750 by a certain Jag-jivan-das. They do not observe caste and in theory adore only the True Name of God but in practice admit ordinary Hindu worship. The Râdhâ-swâmis, founded in 1861, profess a combination of the Kabirpanth with Christian ideas. The Dâdupanthis show the influence of the military spirit of Islam. They were founded by Dâdu, a cotton weaver of Ahmedabad who flourished in Akbar's reign and died about 1603. He insisted on the equality of mankind, vegetarianism, abstinence from alcohol and strict celibacy. Hence the sect is recruited by adopting boys, most of whom are trained as soldiers. In such conditions the Dâdupanthis cannot increase greatly but they number about nine thousand and are found chiefly in the state of Jaipur, especially in the town of Naraina.[665]
Although there isn't much that's original in Kabir's teachings, he is an important figure in Hindi literature and can be rightly considered groundbreaking for being the first to merge Hinduism and Islam, a fusion that becomes politically significant in Sikhism. Other groups inspired by his teachings include the Satnâmîs, Râdhâ-swâmis, and Dâdupanthis. The Satnâmîs were founded or reorganized in 1750 by a man named Jag-jivan-das. They don't follow caste distinctions and theoretically worship only the True Name of God, but in practice, they also accept traditional Hindu rituals. The Râdhâ-swâmis, established in 1861, incorporate elements of Kabir's teachings along with Christian beliefs. The Dâdupanthis reflect the martial spirit of Islam. They were founded by Dâdu, a cotton weaver from Ahmedabad who lived during Akbar's reign and died around 1603. He emphasized human equality, vegetarianism, abstaining from alcohol, and strict celibacy. As a result, the sect mostly recruits boys through adoption, many of whom are trained as soldiers. Given these circumstances, the Dâdupanthis can't grow significantly but they have about nine thousand members, primarily located in the state of Jaipur, especially in the town of Naraina.[665]
2
The Sikh religion[666] is of special interest since it has created not only a political society but also customs so distinctive that those who profess it rank in common esteem as a separate race. The founder Nânak lived from 1469 to 1538 and was born near Lahore. He was a Hindu by birth but came under Mohammedan influence and conceived the idea of reconciling the two faiths. He was attracted by the doctrines of Kabir and did not at first claim to teach a new religion. He wished to unite Hindus and Moslims and described himself simply as Guru or teacher and his adherents as Sikhs or disciples.
The Sikh religion[666] is particularly interesting because it has formed not just a political community but also unique customs, allowing its followers to be regarded as a distinct group. The founder, Nânak, lived from 1469 to 1538 and was born near Lahore. He was born a Hindu but was influenced by Islam and developed the idea of bringing the two faiths together. Inspired by the teachings of Kabir, he initially did not claim to start a new religion. Instead, he aimed to unite Hindus and Muslims and referred to himself simply as Guru or teacher, and his followers as Sikhs or disciples.
He spent the greater part of his life wandering about India and is said to have reached Mecca. A beautiful story relates that he fell asleep with his feet turned towards the Kaaba. A mollah kicked him and asked how he dared to turn his feet and not his head towards God. But he answered, "Turn my feet in a direction where God is not." He was attended on his wanderings by Mardâna, a lute-player, who accompanied the hymns which he never failed to compose when a thought or adventure occurred to him. These compositions are similar to those of Kabir, but seem to me of inferior merit. They are diffuse and inordinately long; the Japji for instance, which every Sikh ought to recite as his daily prayer, fills not less than twenty octavo pages. Yet beautiful and incisive passages are not wanting. When at the temple of Jagannath, he was asked to take part in the evening worship at which lights were waved before the god while flowers and incense were presented on golden salvers studded with pearls. But he burst out into song.[667]
He spent most of his life traveling around India and is said to have reached Mecca. There’s a beautiful story about how he fell asleep with his feet pointing towards the Kaaba. A religious scholar kicked him and asked how he could dare to point his feet instead of his head towards God. He replied, "Point my feet in a direction where God is not." He was accompanied on his travels by Mardâna, a lute player, who played along with the hymns he would compose whenever an idea or experience inspired him. These compositions are similar to those of Kabir, but in my opinion, they are of lesser quality. They tend to be long-winded and overly lengthy; for example, the Japji, which every Sikh should recite as a daily prayer, takes up no less than twenty octavo pages. Yet, there are certainly beautiful and sharp passages. When he was at the temple of Jagannath, he was invited to participate in the evening worship, during which lights were waved before the god while flowers and incense were presented on golden platters adorned with pearls. But instead, he burst out in song.[667]
Though Nânak is full of Hindu allusions he is more Mohammedan in tone than Kabir, and the ritual of Sikh temples is [268] modelled on the Mohammedan rather than on the Hindu pattern. The opening words of the Japji are: "There is but one God, whose name is true, the Creator"[668] and he is regarded rather as the ruler of the world than as a spirit finding expression in it. "By his order" all things happen. "By obeying him" man obtains happiness and salvation. "There is no limit to his mercy and his praises." In the presence of God "man has no power and no strength." Such sentiments have a smack of Mohammed and Nânak sometimes uses the very words of the Koran as when he says that God has no companion. And though the penetrating spirit of the Vedânta infects this regal monotheism, yet the doctrine of Mâyâ is set forth in unusual phraseology: "God himself created the world and himself gave names to things. He made Mâyâ by his power: seated, he beheld his work with delight."
Though Nânak has many references to Hinduism, he has a tone that is more Islamic than Kabir's, and the rituals in Sikh temples are [268] based on Islamic practices rather than Hindu ones. The opening lines of the Japji state: "There is only one God, whose name is true, the Creator"[668] and he is seen more as the ruler of the world than as a spirit that manifests within it. "By his order," everything happens. "By obeying him," people find happiness and salvation. "There is no limit to his mercy and his praises." Before God, "people have no power and no strength." These ideas have a hint of Islam, and Nânak sometimes uses the exact words from the Koran when he says that God has no companion. Although the insightful spirit of the Vedânta influences this majestic monotheism, the doctrine of Mâyā is expressed in unique language: "God himself created the world and himself gave names to things. He made Mâyā by his power: seated, he looked at his creation with delight."
In other compositions attributed to Nânak greater prominence is given to Mâyâ and to the common Hindu idea that creation is a self-expansion of the deity. Metempsychosis is taught and the divine name is Hari. This is characteristic of the age, for Nânak was nearly a contemporary of Caitanya and Vallabhâcârya. For Kabir, the disciple of Râmânanda, the name was Ram.
In other writings attributed to Nânak, more emphasis is placed on Mâyâ and the common Hindu belief that creation is a self-expansion of the divine. The concept of reincarnation is discussed, and the divine name used is Hari. This reflects the era, as Nânak was almost a contemporary of Caitanya and Vallabhâcârya. For Kabir, who was a disciple of Râmânanda, the divine name was Ram.
Nânak was sufficiently conscious of his position as head of a sect to leave a successor as Guru,[669] but there is no indication that at this time the Sikhs differed materially from many other religious bodies who reprobated caste and idolatry. Under the fourth Guru, Ram Das, the beginnings of a change appear. His strong personality collected many wealthy adherents and with their offerings he purchased the tank of Amritsar[670] and built in its midst the celebrated Golden Temple. He appointed his son Arjun as Guru in 1581, just before his death: the succession was made hereditary and henceforth the Gurus became chiefs rather than spiritual teachers. Arjun assumed some of the insignia of royalty: a town grew up round [269] the sacred tank and became the centre of a community; a tax was collected from all Sikhs and they were subjected to special and often salutary legislation. Infanticide, for instance, was strictly forbidden. With a view of providing a code and standard Arjun compiled the Granth or Sikh scriptures, for though hymns and prayers composed by Nânak and others were in use there was as yet no authorized collection of them. The example of Mohammedanism no doubt stimulated the desire to possess a sacred book and the veneration of the scriptures increased with time. The Granth now receives the same kind of respect as the Koran and the first sight of a Sikh temple with a large open volume on a reading-desk cannot fail to recall a mosque.
Nânak was well aware of his role as the leader of a sect, so he appointed a successor as Guru,[669] but there’s no evidence that, at this time, the Sikhs were significantly different from many other religious groups that condemned caste and idol worship. Under the fourth Guru, Ram Das, signs of change began to emerge. His strong personality attracted many wealthy followers, and with their contributions, he bought the tank of Amritsar[670] and built the famous Golden Temple in its center. He appointed his son Arjun as Guru in 1581, shortly before his death: the succession became hereditary, and from then on, the Gurus took on more of a leadership role than that of spiritual guides. Arjun adopted some royal symbols: a town developed around [269] the sacred tank and became the center of a community; a tax was levied on all Sikhs, and they were subject to specific, often beneficial, laws. For example, infanticide was strictly prohibited. To establish a code and standard, Arjun compiled the Granth or Sikh scriptures, as hymns and prayers by Nânak and others were already in use, but there was no official collection of them yet. The influence of Mohammedanism likely fueled the desire for a sacred text, and over time, the reverence for the scriptures grew. The Granth now receives the same level of respect as the Koran, and the first sight of a Sikh temple displaying a large open volume on a reading desk strongly resembles a mosque.
Arjun's compilation is called the Âdi-granth, or original book, to distinguish it from the later additions made by Guru Govind. It comprises hymns and prayers by Nânak and the four Gurus who followed him (including Arjun himself), Râmânand, Kabir and others, amounting to thirty-five writers in all. The list is interesting as testifying to the existence of a great body of oral poetry by various authors ranging from Râmânand, who had not separated himself from orthodox Vishnuism, to Arjun, the chief of the Sikh national community. It was evidently felt that all these men had one inspiration coming from one truth and even now unwritten poems of Nânak are current in Bihar. The Granth is written in a special alphabet known as Gurmukhi[671] and contains both prose and poetical pieces in several languages: most are in old western Hindi[672] but some are in Panjabi and Marathi.
Arjun's collection is called the Âdi-granth, or original book, to set it apart from the later additions made by Guru Govind. It includes hymns and prayers by Nânak and the four Gurus who followed him (including Arjun himself), Râmânand, Kabir, and others, totaling thirty-five writers in all. The list is interesting as it highlights the existence of a significant body of oral poetry by various authors, ranging from Râmânand, who had not distanced himself from traditional Vishnuism, to Arjun, the leader of the Sikh national community. It was clearly believed that all these individuals shared one inspiration coming from a singular truth, and even now, unwritten poems of Nânak are popular in Bihar. The Granth is written in a special alphabet known as Gurmukhi[671] and contains both prose and poetry in several languages: most are in old western Hindi[672] but some are in Punjabi and Marathi.
But though in compiling a sacred book and in uniting the temporal and spiritual power Arjun was influenced by the spirit of Mohammedanism, this is not the sort of imitation which makes for peace. The combination of Hinduism and Islam resulted in the production of a special type of Hindu peculiarly distasteful to Moslims and not much loved by other Hindus. Much of Arjun's activity took place in the later years of the Emperor Akbar. This most philosophic and tolerant of princes abandoned Mohammedanism after 1579, remitted the special [270] taxes payable by non-Moslims and adopted many Hindu observances. Towards the end of his life he promulgated a new creed known as the Din-i-ilahi or divine faith. This eclectic and composite religion bears testimony to his vanity as well as to his large sympathies, for it recognized him as the viceregent or even an incarnation of God. It would appear that the singular little work called the Allopanishad or Allah Upanishad[673] was written in connection with this movement. It purports to be an Upanishad of the Atharva Veda and can hardly be described as other than a forgery. It declares that "the Allah of the prophet Muhammad Akbar[674] is the God of Gods" and identifies him with Mitra, Varuṇa, the sun, moon, water, Indra, etc. Akbar's religion did not long survive his death and never flourished far from the imperial court, but somewhat later (1656) Muhammad Dara Shukoh, the son of Shah Jehan, caused a Persian translation of about fifty Upanishads, known as the Oupnekhat,[675] to be prepared. The general temper of the period was propitious to the growth and immunity of mixed forms of belief, but the warlike and semi-political character of the Sikh community brought trouble on it.
But even though Arjun was influenced by the spirit of Islam while putting together a sacred book and merging political and spiritual power, this kind of imitation doesn’t lead to peace. The blending of Hinduism and Islam created a unique version of Hinduism that was particularly disliked by Muslims and not very popular among other Hindus either. Most of Arjun's efforts occurred during the later years of Emperor Akbar’s reign. This ruler, known for his philosophical and tolerant nature, abandoned Islam after 1579, removed the special taxes imposed on non-Muslims, and adopted many Hindu practices. Towards the end of his life, he introduced a new faith called Din-i-ilahi or divine faith. This mixed and inclusive religion reflects his vanity as well as his broad sympathies, as it recognized him as God's representative or even an incarnation of God. It seems that a unique little work called the Allopanishad or Allah Upanishad was created in connection with this movement. It claims to be an Upanishad from the Atharva Veda and can hardly be considered anything other than a forgery. It states that "the Allah of the prophet Muhammad Akbar is the God of Gods" and associates him with Mitra, Varuṇa, the sun, moon, water, Indra, and others. Akbar's religion did not last long after his death and never spread far from the royal court, but later on (1656), Muhammad Dara Shukoh, Shah Jehan’s son, commissioned a Persian translation of about fifty Upanishads, known as the Oupnekhat. The overall mood of the time was favorable for the development and acceptance of mixed belief systems, but the militant and semi-political nature of the Sikh community brought troubles upon it.
Arjun attracted the unfavourable attention of Akbar's successor, Jehangir,[676] and was cast into prison where he died. The Sikhs took up arms and henceforth regarded themselves as the enemies of the government, but their strength was wasted by internal dissensions. The ninth Guru, Teg-Bahadur, was executed by Aurungzeb. Desire to avenge this martyrdom and the strenuous character of the tenth Guru, Govind Singh (1675-1708), completed the transformation of the Sikhs into a church militant devoted to a holy war.
Arjun drew the negative attention of Akbar's successor, Jehangir,[676] and was imprisoned, where he died. The Sikhs took up arms and began to see themselves as enemies of the government, but their power was undermined by internal conflicts. The ninth Guru, Teg-Bahadur, was executed by Aurangzeb. The desire to avenge this martyrdom and the determined nature of the tenth Guru, Govind Singh (1675-1708), fully transformed the Sikhs into a militant community committed to a holy war.
Though the most aggressive and uncompromising features of Sikhism are due to the innovations of Govind, he was so far from being a theological bigot that he worshipped Durgâ and [271] was even said to have offered human sacrifices. But the aim of all his ordinances was to make his followers an independent body of fighting men. They were to return the salutation of no Hindu and to put to death every Mohammedan. The community was called Khalsa:[677] within it there was perfect equality: every man was to carry a sword and wear long hair but short trousers. Converts, or recruits, came chiefly from the fighting tribes of the Jats, but in theory admission was free. The initiatory ceremony, which resembled baptism, was performed with sugar and water stirred with a sword, and the neophyte vowed not to worship idols, to bow to none except a Sikh Guru, and never to turn his back on the enemy. To give these institutions better religious sanction, Govind composed a supplement to the Granth, called Daśama Pâdshâh ka Granth or book of the tenth prince. It consists of four parts, all in verse, and is said to inculcate war as persistently as Nânak had inculcated meekness and peace. To give his institutions greater permanence and prevent future alterations Govind refused to appoint any human successor and bade the Sikhs consider the Granth as their Guru. "Whatsoever ye shall ask of it, it will show you" he said, and in obedience to his command the book is still invested with a kind of personality and known as Granth Sahib.
Though the most aggressive and uncompromising aspects of Sikhism stem from the innovations of Govind, he was far from being a theological bigot; he worshipped Durgâ and was even rumored to have offered human sacrifices. However, the goal of all his rules was to create an independent group of warriors among his followers. They were instructed not to return any Hindu greetings and to kill every Muslim. The community was called Khalsa: within it, there was complete equality; every man was to carry a sword and wear long hair along with short trousers. New members primarily came from the warrior Jat tribes, but in theory, anyone could join. The initiation ceremony, which resembled baptism, involved sugar and water stirred with a sword, and the new member vowed not to worship idols, to bow only to a Sikh Guru, and to never turn his back on the enemy. To give these institutions stronger religious authority, Govind created a supplement to the Granth, called Daśama Pâdshâh ka Granth or the book of the tenth prince. It has four parts, all in verse, and is said to promote war just as Nânak had promoted meekness and peace. To ensure the lasting nature of his institutions and to prevent future changes, Govind refused to appoint any human successor and instructed the Sikhs to treat the Granth as their Guru. "Whatever you ask of it, it will show you," he said, and in following his command, the book is still regarded with a sort of personality and known as Granth Sahib.
Govind spent most of his time in wars with Aurungzeb marked by indomitable perseverance rather than success. Towards the end of his life he retired into Malwa and resided at a place called Damdama. The accounts of his latter days are somewhat divergent. According to one story he made his peace with the Mughals and accepted a military command under the successor of Aurungzeb but it is more commonly asserted that he was assassinated by a private enemy. Even more troublous were the days of his successor Banda. Since Govind had abolished the Guruship, he could not claim to be more than a temporal chief, but what he lacked in spiritual authority he made amends for in fanaticism. The eight years of his leadership were spent in a war of mutual extermination waged with the Moslims of the Panjab and diversified only by internal dissensions. At last he was captured and the sect was nearly annihilated by the Emperor Farukhsîyar. According to the [272] ordinary account this victory was followed by an orgy of torture and Banda was barbarously executed after witnessing during seven days the torments of his followers and kinsmen. We read with pleasure but incredulity that one division of the Sikhs believe that he escaped and promulgated his peculiar doctrines in Sind. Asiatics do not relish the idea that the chosen of God can suffer violent death.
Govind spent most of his time fighting Aurungzeb, showing incredible determination but not much success. Near the end of his life, he retired to Malwa and lived in a place called Damdama. The stories about his final days vary. One account says he made peace with the Mughals and took a military position under Aurungzeb's successor, but it's more often said that he was killed by a personal enemy. The situation only got worse with his successor, Banda. Since Govind had ended the Guruship, he could only be seen as a temporal leader, but what he lacked in spiritual authority, he made up for with extreme zeal. His eight years in charge were spent in a brutal conflict against the Muslims of Punjab, mixed with internal strife. Eventually, he was captured, and Emperor Farukhsîyar nearly wiped out the sect. According to the [272] standard account, this victory led to a series of tortures, and Banda was horrifically executed after watching his followers and relatives suffer for seven days. We read, with both enjoyment and skepticism, that one group of Sikhs believes he escaped and spread his unique teachings in Sind. Asiatics find it hard to accept that God's chosen people can meet such a brutal end.
The further history of the Sikhs is political rather than religious, and need not detain us here. Despite the efforts of the Mughals to exterminate them, they were favoured by the disturbed state of the country in the early decades of the eighteenth century, for the raids of Afghans and Persians convulsed and paralyzed the empire of Delhi. The government of the Khalsa passed into the hands of a body of fanatics, called Akâlis, but the decision of grave matters rested with a council of the whole community which occasionally met at Amritsar. Every Sikh claimed to have joined the confederacy as an independent soldier, bound to fight under his military leaders but otherwise exempt from control, and entitled to a share of land. This absolute independence, being unworkable in practice, was modified by the formation of Misals or voluntary associations, of which there were at one time twelve. From the middle of the eighteenth century onwards the Sikhs were masters of the Panjab and their great chief Ranjit Singh (1797-1839) succeeded in converting the confederacy into a despotic monarchy. Their power did not last long after his death and the Panjab was conquered by the British in the two wars of 1846 and 1849.
The later history of the Sikhs is more about politics than religion, so we won't focus on that here. Even though the Mughals tried to wipe them out, the chaotic state of the country in the early 1700s actually worked in their favor, as the raids by Afghans and Persians disrupted and weakened the Delhi empire. The leadership of the Khalsa fell to a group of zealots called Akâlis, but important decisions were made by a council of the entire community that sometimes gathered in Amritsar. Every Sikh considered themselves part of the confederacy as an independent soldier, obligated to fight under their military leaders but otherwise free from control and entitled to land. This complete independence proved impractical, leading to the creation of Misals, or voluntary associations, of which there were twelve at one point. From the mid-1700s onward, the Sikhs dominated the Punjab, and their prominent leader Ranjit Singh (1797-1839) managed to transform the confederacy into an authoritarian monarchy. Their power didn't last long after his death, and the Punjab was taken over by the British in the two wars of 1846 and 1849.
With the loss of political independence, the differences between the Sikhs and other Hindus tended to decrease. This was natural, for nearly all their strictly religious tenets can be paralleled in Hinduism. Guru Govind waged no war against polytheism but wished to found a religious commonwealth equally independent of Hindu castes and Mohammedan sultans. For some time his ordinances were successful in creating a tribe, almost a nation. With the collapse of the Sikh state, the old hatred of Mohammedanism remained, but the Sikhs differed from normal Hindus hardly more than such sects as the Lingâyats, and, as happened with decadent Buddhism, the unobtrusive pressure of Hindu beliefs and observances tended to obliterate [273] those differences. The Census of India,[678] 1901, enumerated three degrees of Sikhism. The first comprises a few zealots called Akâlis who observe all the precepts of Govind. The second class are the Guru Govind Sikhs, who observe the Guru's main commands, especially the prohibition to smoke and cut the hair. Lastly, there are a considerable number who profess a respect for the Guru but follow Hindu beliefs and usages wholly or in part. Sikhism indeed reproduces on a small scale the changeableness and complexity of Hinduism, and includes associations called Sabhâ, whose members aim at restoring or maintaining what they consider to be the true faith. In 1901 there was a tendency for Sikhs to give up their peculiarities and describe themselves as ordinary Hindus, but in the next decade a change of sentiment among these waverers caused the Sikh community as registered to increase by thirty-seven per cent. and a period of religious zeal is reported.[679]
With the loss of political independence, the differences between Sikhs and other Hindus started to fade. This was understandable since nearly all their strictly religious beliefs can be found in Hinduism. Guru Govind didn't fight against polytheism but wanted to create a religious community that was independent of both Hindu castes and Muslim rulers. For a time, his teachings were successful in forming a tribe, almost a nation. After the Sikh state fell apart, the old animosity towards Islam remained, but Sikhs differed from regular Hindus hardly more than sects like the Lingâyats, and, as with declining Buddhism, the subtle influence of Hindu beliefs and practices began to erase those differences. The Census of India, 1901, listed three levels of Sikhism. The first included a few dedicated followers called Akâlis who adhere strictly to Govind's teachings. The second group consists of Guru Govind Sikhs, who follow the main commands of the Guru, particularly the rules against smoking and cutting their hair. Finally, there are many who respect the Guru but mostly or entirely follow Hindu beliefs and practices. Sikhism indeed reflects, on a smaller scale, the variability and complexity of Hinduism, and includes groups called Sabhâ, whose members strive to restore or maintain what they believe is the true faith. In 1901, there was a trend for Sikhs to abandon their distinctiveness and identify themselves as ordinary Hindus, but in the following decade, a shift in attitude among these individuals led to a 37% increase in the officially registered Sikh community, along with reports of a wave of religious enthusiasm.
FOOTNOTES:
[651] It is exemplified by the curious word an-had limitless, being the Indian negative prefix added to the arabic word had used in the Sikh Granth and by Caran Das as a name of God.
[651] It is shown by the interesting word an-had limitless, which is the Indian negative prefix combined with the Arabic word had used in the Sikh Granth and by Caran Das as a name for God.
[652] See especially G.H. Westcott, Kabir and the Kabir Panth, and Macauliffe, Sikh Religion, vol. vi. pp. 122-316. Also Wilson, Essays on the religion of the Hindus, vol. I. pp. 68-98. Garcin de Tassy, Histoire de la Littérature Hindoue, II. pp. 120-134. Bhandarkar, Vaishṇ. and Śaivism, pp. 67-73.
[652] Check out G.H. Westcott, Kabir and the Kabir Panth, and Macauliffe, Sikh Religion, vol. vi. pp. 122-316. Also, see Wilson, Essays on the religion of the Hindus, vol. I. pp. 68-98. Garcin de Tassy, Histoire de la Littérature Hindoue, II. pp. 120-134. Bhandarkar, Vaishṇ. and Śaivism, pp. 67-73.
[657] Though Kabir writes as a poet rather than as a philosopher he evidently leaned to the doctrine of illusion (vivartavâda) rather than to the doctrine of manifestation or development (Pariṇâmavâda). He regards Mâyâ as something evil, a trick, a thief, a force which leads men captive, but which disappears with the knowledge of God. "The illusion vanished when I recognized him" (XXXIX.).
[657] Although Kabir writes as a poet rather than a philosopher, he clearly favors the idea of illusion (vivartavâda) over the idea of manifestation or development (Pariṇâmavâda). He sees Mâyâ as something evil, a trick, a thief, and a force that takes people captive, but which fades away with the knowledge of God. "The illusion vanished when I recognized him" (XXXIX.).
[661] Westcott, l.c. p. 144, "I am the creator of this world.... I am the seed and the tree...all are contained in me—I live within all and all live within me" and much to the same effect. Even in the hymns of the Âdi Granth we find such phrases as "Now thou and I have become one." (Macauliffe, vi. p. 180.)
[661] Westcott, l.c. p. 144, "I am the creator of this world... I am the seed and the tree... all are contained in me—I live within all and all live within me," and similar ideas. Even in the hymns of the Âdi Granth, we find phrases like "Now you and I have become one." (Macauliffe, vi. p. 180.)
This identification of Kabir with the deity is interesting as being a modern example of what probably happened in the case of Kṛishṇa. Similarly those who collected the hymns which form the sacred books of the Sikhs and Kabirpanthis repeated the process which in earlier ages produced the Ṛig Veda.
This connection of Kabir with the deity is intriguing as a modern example of what likely happened with Kṛishṇa. In the same way, those who gathered the hymns that make up the sacred texts of the Sikhs and Kabirpanthis repeated the process that in earlier times created the Ṛig Veda.
[662] "The Âtmâ mingles with Paramâtmâ, as the rivers flow into the ocean. Only in this way can Paramâtmâ be found. The Âtmâ without Śabda is blind and cannot find the path. He who sees Âtmâ-Râm is present everywhere. All he sees is like himself. There is nought except Brahmâ. I am he, I am the true Kabir." Westcott, p. 168.
[662] "The soul merges with the Supreme Soul, just like rivers flow into the ocean. This is the only way to discover the Supreme Soul. The soul without sound is blind and cannot find the way. The one who sees the soul is present everywhere. Everything they see is just like themselves. There is nothing but the Absolute. I am that, I am the true Kabir." Westcott, p. 168.
[664] Consecrated by washing in it wooden sandals supposed to represent the feet of Kabir. It is stated that they believe they eat the body of Kabir at their sacred meal which perhaps points to Christian influence. See Russell, l.c. pp. 239-240.
[664] Blessed by being washed in it, wooden sandals that are believed to symbolize the feet of Kabir. It’s said that they think they consume the body of Kabir during their sacred meal, which may suggest some Christian influence. See Russell, l.c. pp. 239-240.
[667] Macauliffe, I. p. 82.
[669] The Guru of the Sikhs are: (a) Nânak, 1469-1538, (b) Angada, 1538-1552, (c) Amardas, 1552-1575, (d) Ramdas, 1575-1581, (e) Arjun, 1581-1606, (f) Har-Govind, 1606-1639, (g) Har-Rai, 1639-1663, (h) Har-Kisan, 1663-1666, (i) Teg-Bahadur, 1666-1675, (j) Govind Singh, 1675-1708.
[669] The Gurus of the Sikhs are: (a) Nânak, 1469-1538, (b) Angada, 1538-1552, (c) Amardas, 1552-1575, (d) Ramdas, 1575-1581, (e) Arjun, 1581-1606, (f) Har-Govind, 1606-1639, (g) Har-Rai, 1639-1663, (h) Har-Kisan, 1663-1666, (i) Teg-Bahadur, 1666-1675, (j) Govind Singh, 1675-1708.
[670] Amritasaras the lake of nectar.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Amritasaras, the lake of nectar.
[671] It appears to be an arbitrary adaptation of the Deva-nâgari characters. The shape of the letters is mostly the same but new values are assigned to them.
[671] It seems like a random adaptation of the Deva-nâgari characters. The letter shapes are mostly unchanged, but they've been given new meanings.
[673] See Rajendrala Mitra's article in J.A.S.B. XL. 1871, pp. 170-176, which gives the Sanskrit text of the Upanishad. Also Schrader, Catalogue of Adyar Library, 1908, pp. 136-7. Schrader states that in the north of India the Allopanishad is recited by Brahmans at the Vasantotsava and on other occasions: also that in southern India it is generally believed that Moslims are skilled in the Atharva Veda.
[673] See Rajendrala Mitra's article in J.A.S.B. XL. 1871, pp. 170-176, which provides the Sanskrit text of the Upanishad. Also, Schrader, Catalogue of Adyar Library, 1908, pp. 136-7. Schrader notes that in northern India, the Allopanishad is recited by Brahmans during the Vasantotsava and on other occasions; additionally, in southern India, it's commonly thought that Muslims are skilled in the Atharva Veda.
[675] This Persian translation was rendered word for word into very strange Latin by Anquetil Duperron (1801-2) and this Latin version was used by Schopenhauer.
[675] This Persian translation was converted word for word into very odd Latin by Anquetil Duperron (1801-2), and Schopenhauer used this Latin version.
CHAPTER XXXII
ŚÂKTISM[680]
Among the principal subdivisions of Hinduism must be reckoned the remarkable religion known as Śâktism, that is the worship of Śakti or Śiva's spouse under various names, of which Devî, Durgâ and Kâlî are the best known. It differs from most sects in not being due to the creative or reforming energy of any one human founder. It claims to be a revelation from Śiva himself, but considered historically it appears to be a compound of Hinduism with un-Aryan beliefs. It acquired great influence both in the courts and among the people of north-eastern India but without producing personalities of much eminence as teachers or writers.
Among the main branches of Hinduism is the notable religion known as Śāktism, which involves the worship of Śakti or Śiva's wife under various names, with Devī, Durgā, and Kālī being the most well-known. Unlike most sects, it isn’t attributed to the creative or reforming energy of a single human founder. It claims to be a revelation from Śiva himself, but when looked at historically, it seems to be a blend of Hinduism and non-Aryan beliefs. It gained significant influence both in the courts and among the people of northeastern India, though it hasn’t produced many prominent figures as teachers or writers.
It would be convenient to distinguish Śâktism and Tantrism, as I have already suggested. The former means the worship of a goddess or goddesses, especially those who are regarded as forms of Śiva's consort. Vishnuites sometimes worship female deities, but though the worship of Lakshmî, Râdhâ and others may be coloured by imitation of Śâktist practices, it is less conspicuous and seems to have a different origin. Tantrism is a system of magical or sacramental ritual, which professes to attain the highest aims of religion by such methods as spells, diagrams, gestures and other physical exercises. One of its bases is the assumption that man and the universe correspond as microcosm and macrocosm and that both are subject to the mysterious power of words and letters.
It would be helpful to differentiate between Śâktism and Tantrism, as I have already mentioned. Śâktism refers to the worship of a goddess or goddesses, particularly those seen as forms of Śiva's consort. Followers of Vishnu sometimes worship female deities, but even though the worship of Lakshmî, Râdhâ, and others may be influenced by Śâktist practices, it's less obvious and seems to come from a different background. Tantrism is a system of magical or sacramental rituals that claims to achieve the highest spiritual goals through methods like spells, diagrams, gestures, and various physical exercises. One of its foundations is the belief that humanity and the universe correspond as microcosm and macrocosm, and that both are influenced by the mysterious power of words and letters.
These ideas are not modern nor peculiar to any Indian sect. They are present in the Vedic ceremonial, in the practices of the Yoga and even in the teaching of the quasi-mussulman sect of Kabir, which attaches great importance to the letters of the divine name. They harmonize with the common Indian view that some form of discipline or physical training is essential [275] to the religious life. They are found in a highly developed form among the Nambuthiris and other Brahmans of southern India who try to observe the Vedic rules and in the Far East among Buddhists of the Shingon or Chên-yen sect.[681] As a rule they receive the name of Tantrism only when they are elaborated into a system which claims to be a special dispensation for this age and to supersede more arduous methods which are politely set aside as practicable only for the hero-saints of happier times. Tantrism, like salvation by faith, is a simplification of religion but on mechanical rather than emotional lines, though its deficiency in emotion often finds strange compensations.
These ideas aren't modern or unique to any Indian sect. They're found in Vedic rituals, in Yoga practices, and even in the teachings of the quasi-Muslim sect of Kabir, which places a lot of importance on the letters of the divine name. They align with the common Indian belief that some form of discipline or physical training is essential [275] for religious life. They're highly developed among the Nambuthiris and other Brahmins in southern India who try to follow the Vedic rules, and in the Far East among Buddhists of the Shingon or Chên-yen sect.[681] Generally, they are referred to as Tantrism only when they are expanded into a system that claims to be a special guideline for this age, replacing more demanding methods that are respectfully seen as suitable only for the hero-saints of better times. Tantrism, like salvation by faith, simplifies religion, but in a mechanical rather than emotional way, although its lack of emotion often finds unusual compensations.
But Tantrism is analogous not so much to justification by faith as to sacramental ritual. The parallel may seem shocking, but most tantric ceremonies are similar in idea to Christian sacraments and may be called sacramental as correctly as magical. Even in the Anglican Church baptism includes sprinkling with water (abhisheka), the sign of the cross (nyâsa) and a formula (mantra), and if any one supposes that a child so treated is sure of heaven whereas the future of the unbaptized is dubious, he holds like the Tantrists that spiritual ends can be attained by physical means. And in the Roman Church where the rite includes exorcism and the use of salt, oil and lights, the parallel is still closer. Christian mysticism has had much to do with symbolism and even with alchemy,[682] and Zoroastrianism, which is generally regarded as a reasonable religion, attaches extraordinary importance to holy spells.[683] So Indian religions are not singular in this respect, though the uncompromising thoroughness with which they work out this like other ideas leads to startling results.
But Tantrism is more similar to sacramental rituals than to justification by faith. This might sound surprising, but many tantric ceremonies are conceptually akin to Christian sacraments and can be described as sacramental just as much as magical. Even in the Anglican Church, baptism involves sprinkling with water (abhisheka), making the sign of the cross (nyâsa), and reciting a formula (mantra). If someone believes that a child who undergoes this is guaranteed a place in heaven while the fate of the unbaptized remains uncertain, they are aligning with the Tantrists' view that spiritual outcomes can be achieved through physical actions. In the Roman Church, where the rite includes exorcism and the use of salt, oil, and lights, the comparison gets even closer. Christian mysticism has significantly involved symbolism and even alchemy,[682] and Zoroastrianism, which is widely seen as a reasonable religion, places great emphasis on holy spells.[683] Thus, Indian religions are not unique in this regard, although their intense dedication to exploring these ideas can lead to surprising outcomes.
The worship of female deities becomes prominent somewhat late in Indian literature and it does not represent—not to the same extent as the Chinese cult of Kwan-yin for example—the better ideals of the period when it appears. The goddesses of the Ṛig Veda are insignificant: they are little more than names, and grammatically often the feminine forms of their consorts. But this Veda is evidently a special manual of prayer from which many departments of popular religion were excluded. In [276] the Atharva Veda many spirits with feminine names are invoked and there is an inclination to personify bad qualities and disasters as goddesses. But we do not find any goddess who has attained a position comparable with that held by Durgâ, Cybele or Astarte, though there are some remarkable hymns[684] addressed to the Earth. But there is no doubt that the worship of goddesses (especially goddesses of fertility) as great powers is both ancient and widespread. We find it among the Egyptians and Semites, in Asia Minor, in Greece, Italy, and among the Kelts. The goddess Anahit, who was worshipped with immoral rites in Bactria, is figured on the coins of the Kushans and must at one time have been known on the north-western borders of India. At the present day Śîtalâ and in south India Mariamman are goddesses of smallpox who require propitiation, and one of the earliest deities known to have been worshipped by the Tamils is the goddess Koṭṭavai.[685] Somewhat obscure but widely worshipped are the powers known as the Mothers, a title which also occurs in Keltic mythology. They are groups of goddesses varying in number and often malevolent. As many as a hundred and forty are said to be worshipped in Gujarat. The census of Bengal (1901) records the worship of the earth, sun and rivers as females, of the snake goddesses Manasâ and Jagat Gaurî and of numerous female demons who send disease, such as the seven sisters, Ola Bibi, Jogini and the Churels, or spirits of women who have died in childbirth.
The worship of female deities becomes prominent relatively late in Indian literature and does not quite match—at least not to the same extent as the Chinese cult of Kwan-yin—the better ideals of the time when it appears. The goddesses in the Ṛig Veda are not significant: they're little more than names, and grammatically often just the feminine forms of their male counterparts. However, this Veda is clearly a specific manual of prayer from which many aspects of popular religion were left out. In [276] the Atharva Veda, many spirits with feminine names are called upon, and there’s a tendency to personify negative qualities and disasters as goddesses. But we don’t see a goddess who has reached a position comparable to that of Durgâ, Cybele, or Astarte, even though there are some notable hymns[684] addressed to the Earth. There’s no doubt that the worship of goddesses (especially fertility goddesses) as significant powers is both ancient and widespread. We can find it among the Egyptians and Semites, in Asia Minor, in Greece, Italy, and among the Celts. The goddess Anahit, worshipped with morally questionable rites in Bactria, is depicted on the coins of the Kushans and must have once been recognized on the north-western borders of India. Nowadays, Śîtalâ and in southern India, Mariamman are goddesses of smallpox who require offerings, and one of the earliest known deities worshipped by the Tamils is the goddess Koṭṭavai.[685] Somewhat obscure yet widely revered are the powers called the Mothers, a title that also appears in Celtic mythology. They are groups of goddesses that vary in number and are often malevolent. As many as one hundred and forty are said to be worshipped in Gujarat. The census of Bengal (1901) documents the worship of the earth, sun, and rivers as female, along with the snake goddesses Manasâ and Jagat Gaurî and numerous female demons that cause disease, such as the seven sisters, Ola Bibi, Jogini, and the Churels, or spirits of women who died in childbirth.
The rites celebrated in honour of these deities are often of a questionable character and include dances by naked women and offerings of spirituous liquors and blood. Similar features are found in other countries. Prostitution formed part of the worship of Astarte and Anahit: the Tauric Artemis was adored with human sacrifices and Cybele with self-inflicted mutilations. Similarly offerings of blood drawn from the sacrificer's own body are enjoined in the Kâlikâ Purâṇa. Two stages can be distinguished in the relations between these cults and Hinduism. In the later stage which can be witnessed even at the present day an aboriginal goddess or demon is identified with one of the aspects (generally a "black" or fierce aspect) of Śiva's [277] spouse.[686] But such identification is facilitated by the fact that goddesses like Kâlî, Bhairavî, Chinnamasṭakâ are not products of purely Hindu imagination but represent earlier stages of amalgamation in which Hindu and aboriginal ideas are already compounded. When the smallpox goddess is identified with Kâlî, the procedure is correct, for some popular forms of Kâlî are little more than an aboriginal deity of pestilence draped with Hindu imagery and philosophy.
The rituals performed in honor of these deities are often questionable and include dances by naked women and offerings of alcohol and blood. Similar practices can be found in other countries. Prostitution was part of the worship of Astarte and Anahit; the Tauric Artemis was worshiped with human sacrifices, and Cybele was honored with self-mutilation. Likewise, offerings of blood drawn from the sacrificer's own body are prescribed in the Kâlikâ Purâṇa. There are two stages in the relationship between these cults and Hinduism. In the later stage, which can still be seen today, an indigenous goddess or demon is identified with one of the aspects (usually a "black" or fierce aspect) of Śiva's partner. But this identification is made easier by the fact that goddesses like Kâlî, Bhairavî, and Chinnamasṭakâ are not solely products of Hindu creativity; they represent earlier stages of blending where Hindu and indigenous ideas are already mixed. When the smallpox goddess is identified with Kâlî, this is accurate, as some popular forms of Kâlî are essentially an indigenous goddess of disease adorned with Hindu imagery and philosophy.
Some Hindu scholars demur to this derivation of Śâktism from lower cults. They point to its refined and philosophic aspects; they see in it the worship of a goddess, who can be as merciful as the Madonna, but yet, since she is the goddess of nature, combines in one shape life and death. May not the grosser forms of Śâktism be perversions and corruptions of an ancient and higher faith? In support of this it may be urged that the Buddhist goddess Târâ is as a rule a beautiful and benevolent figure, though she can be terrible as the enemy of evil and has clear affinities to Durgâ. Yet the history of Indian thought does not support this view, but rather the view that Hinduism incorporated certain ancient ideas, true and striking as ancient ideas often are, but without purging them sufficiently to make them acceptable to the majority of educated Indians.
Some Hindu scholars disagree with the idea that Śâktism comes from lower cults. They highlight its refined and philosophical aspects; they see it as the worship of a goddess who can be as compassionate as the Madonna, yet since she represents nature, she embodies both life and death. Could the more crude forms of Śâktism be twisted versions of an ancient and higher faith? To support this, it's noted that the Buddhist goddess Târâ is usually portrayed as a beautiful and kind figure, although she can also be fierce as the foe of evil and shares clear similarities with Durgâ. However, the history of Indian thought doesn't back this perspective, but rather suggests that Hinduism integrated certain ancient ideas, which are compelling as ancient concepts often are, but without purifying them enough to make them acceptable to most educated Indians.
The Yajur Veda[687] associates Rudra with a female deity called Ambikâ or mother, who is however his sister, not his spouse. The earliest forms of the latter seem to connect her with mountains. She is Umâ Haimavatî, the daughter of the Himalayas, and Pârvatî, she of the mountains, and was perhaps originally a sacred peak. In an interesting but brief passage of the Kena Upanishad (III. 12 and IV. 1) Umâ Haimavatî explains to the gods that a being whom they do not know is Brahman. In later times we hear of a similar goddess in the Vindhyas, Mahârânî Vindhyeśvarî, who was connected with human sacrifices and Thugs.[688] Śiva's consort, like her Lord, has many forms classified as white or benignant and black or terrible. Umâ belongs to the former class but the latter [278] (such as Kâlî, Durgâ, Câmundâ, Candâ and Karalâ) are more important.[689] Female deities bearing names like these are worshipped in most parts of India, literally from the Himalaya to Cape Comorin, for the latter name is derived from Kumârî, the Virgin goddess.[690] But the names Śâkta and Śâktism are usually restricted to those sects in Bengal and Assam who worship the Consort of Śiva with the rites prescribed in the Tantras.
The Yajur Veda[687] links Rudra to a female deity named Ambikâ, or mother, who is actually his sister, not his wife. The earliest versions of her story seem to associate her with mountains. She is Umâ Haimavatî, the daughter of the Himalayas, and Pârvatî, goddess of the mountains, and may have originally been a sacred peak. In a brief but interesting passage from the Kena Upanishad (III. 12 and IV. 1), Umâ Haimavatî tells the gods that a being they don’t know is Brahman. Later, we hear about a similar goddess in the Vindhyas, Mahârânî Vindhyeśvarî, who was linked to human sacrifices and Thugs.[688] Śiva's consort, like her Lord, has many forms categorized as white or benevolent and black or fearsome. Umâ belongs to the first category, but the latter [278] (like Kâlî, Durgâ, Câmundâ, Candâ, and Karalâ) are more significant.[689] Female deities with names like these are worshipped throughout India, literally from the Himalayas to Cape Comorin, which gets its name from Kumârî, the Virgin goddess.[690] However, the terms Śâkta and Śâktism are typically used to refer to the sects in Bengal and Assam that worship the Consort of Śiva with the rituals outlined in the Tantras.
Śâktism regards the goddess as the active manifestation of the godhead. As such she is styled Śakti, or energy (whence the name Śâkta), and is also identified with Mâyâ, the power which is associated with Brahman and brings the phenomenal world into being. Similar ideas appear in a philosophic form in the Sâṅkhya teaching. Here the soul is masculine and passive: its task is to extricate and isolate itself. But Prakṛiti or Nature is feminine and active: to her is due the evolution of the universe: she involves the soul in actions which cause pain but she also helps the work of liberation.[691] In its fully developed form the doctrine of the Tantras teaches that Śakti is not an emanation or aspect of the deity. There is no distinction between Brahman and Śakti. She is Parabrahman and parâtparâ, Supreme of the Supreme.
Śâktism sees the goddess as the active embodiment of the divine. Therefore, she is called Śakti, or energy (which is where the name Śâkta comes from), and is also connected with Mâyâ, the power related to Brahman that brings the material world into existence. Similar concepts are found in a philosophical context within Sâṅkhya teachings. In Sâṅkhya, the soul is masculine and passive: its role is to free and separate itself. However, Prakṛiti or Nature is feminine and active: she is responsible for the universe's evolution; she involves the soul in actions that cause suffering but also aids in the process of liberation.[691] In its complete form, the Tantra teachings explain that Śakti is not just an offshoot or feature of the deity. There's no separation between Brahman and Śakti. She is Parabrahman and parâtparâ, the Supreme of the Supreme.
The birthplace of Śâktism as a definite sect seems to have been north-eastern India[692] and though it is said to be extending in the United Provinces, its present sphere of influence is still [279] chiefly Bengal and Assam.[693] The population of these countries is not Aryan (though the Bengali language bears witness to the strong Aryan influence which has prevailed there) and is largely composed of immigrants from the north belonging to the Tibeto-Burman, Mon-Khmer and Shan families. These tribes remain distinct in Assam but the Bengali represents the fusion of such invaders with a Munda or Dravidian race, leavened by a little Aryan blood in the higher castes. In all this region we hear of no ancient Brahmanic settlements, no ancient centres of Vedic or even Puranic learning[694] and when Buddhism decayed no body of Brahmanic tradition such as existed in other parts of India imposed its authority on the writers of the Tantras. Even at the present day the worship of female spirits, only half acknowledged by the Brahmans, prevails among these people, and in the past the national deities of many tribes were goddesses who were propitiated with human sacrifices. Thus the Chutiyas of Sadiya used to adore a goddess, called Kesai Khati—the eater of raw flesh. The rites of these deities were originally performed by tribal priests, but as Hindu influence spread, the Brahmans gradually took charge of them without modifying their character in essentials. Popular Bengali poetry represents these goddesses as desiring worship and feeling that they are slighted: they persecute those who ignore them, but shower blessings on their worshippers, even on the obdurate who are at last compelled to do them homage. The language of mythology could not describe more clearly the endeavours of a plebeian cult to obtain recognition.[695]
The origin of Śâktism as a specific sect appears to be in northeastern India[692]. While it's said to be expanding in the United Provinces, its primary area of influence is still [279] mainly Bengal and Assam.[693] The population in these regions is not Aryan (although the Bengali language shows a strong Aryan influence) and is mainly made up of immigrants from the north, belonging to the Tibeto-Burman, Mon-Khmer, and Shan groups. These tribes remain separate in Assam, but the Bengali represents a mix of these invaders with a Munda or Dravidian race, slightly intermixed with Aryan blood in the higher castes. In this entire area, there are no signs of ancient Brahmanic settlements or ancient centers of Vedic or even Puranic learning[694]. When Buddhism declined, there was no body of Brahmanic tradition, like those found in other parts of India, that imposed its authority on the writers of the Tantras. Even today, the worship of female spirits, which is only partially acknowledged by the Brahmans, continues among these people. Historically, the national deities of many tribes were goddesses who were appeased with human sacrifices. For example, the Chutiyas of Sadiya used to worship a goddess named Kesai Khati—the eater of raw flesh. The rituals for these deities were originally performed by tribal priests, but as Hindu influence spread, the Brahmans gradually took over without fundamentally changing their nature. Popular Bengali poetry portrays these goddesses as wanting worship and feeling neglected; they punish those who ignore them but bless their worshippers, even the stubborn ones, who eventually are compelled to honor them. The language of mythology reflects the attempts of a grassroots cult to gain recognition.[695]
The Mahâbhârata contains hymns to Durgâ in which she is said to love offerings of flesh and wine,[696] but it is not likely that Śâktism or Tantrism—that is a system with special scriptures [280] and doctrines—was prevalent before the seventh century A.D. for the Tantras are not mentioned by the Chinese pilgrims and the lexicon Amara Kosha (perhaps c. 500 A.D.) does not recognize the word as a designation of religious books. Bâṇa (c. 630) gives more than once in his romances lists of sectaries but though he mentions Bhâgavatas and Pâśupatas, he does not speak of Śaktas.[697] On the other hand Tantrism infected Buddhism soon after this period. The earlier Tibetan translations of the Tantras are attributed to the ninth century. MSS. of the Kubjikâmata and other Tantras are said to date from the ninth and even from the seventh century and tradition represents Sankarâcârya as having contests with Śâktas.[698] But many Tantras were written in the fifteenth century and even later, for the Yogini Tantra alludes to the Koch king Bishwa Singh (1515-1540) and the Meru Tantra mentions London and the English.
The Mahâbhârata has hymns dedicated to Durgâ, where she is said to enjoy offerings of meat and wine,[696] but it's unlikely that Śâktism or Tantrism—a system with its own special scriptures [280] and doctrines—were common before the seventh century A.D. This is because the Tantras aren't mentioned by the Chinese pilgrims, and the lexicon Amara Kosha (perhaps c. 500 A.D.) doesn't identify the term as referring to religious texts. Bâṇa (c. 630) lists various sects in his stories, but while he mentions Bhâgavatas and Pâśupatas, he doesn't mention Śaktas.[697] However, Tantrism started to influence Buddhism fairly soon after this time. The earlier Tibetan translations of the Tantras are attributed to the ninth century. Manuscripts of the Kubjikâmata and other Tantras are thought to be from the ninth and even the seventh century, and tradition depicts Sankarâcârya as having debates with Śâktas.[698] But many Tantras were composed in the fifteenth century and even later, as the Yogini Tantra references the Koch king Bishwa Singh (1515-1540), and the Meru Tantra mentions London and the English.
From the twelfth to the sixteenth century, when Buddhism, itself deeply infected with Tantrism, was disappearing, Śâktism was probably the most powerful religion in Bengal, but Vishnuism was gaining strength and after the time of Caitanya proved a formidable rival to it. At the beginning of the fifteenth century we hear that the king of the Ahoms summoned Brahmans to his Court and adopted many Hindu rites and beliefs, and from this time onward Śâktism was patronized by most of the Assamese Rajas although after 1550 Vishnuism became the religion of the mass of the people. Śâktism never inspired any popular or missionary movement, but it was powerful among the aristocracy and instigated persecutions against the Vishnuites.
From the twelfth to the sixteenth century, as Buddhism, which was significantly influenced by Tantrism, was fading away, Śâktism was likely the dominant religion in Bengal. However, Vishnuism was becoming stronger and, following the period of Caitanya, emerged as a serious competitor. In the early fifteenth century, we learn that the king of the Ahoms invited Brahmans to his court and embraced many Hindu customs and beliefs. From that point on, most of the Assamese Rajas supported Śâktism, although after 1550, Vishnuism became the faith of the majority. Śâktism never sparked any widespread or missionary efforts, but it held considerable influence among the elite and encouraged persecutions against Vishnuites.
The more respectable Tantras[699] show considerable resemblance to the later Upanishads such as the Nṛisinhatâpanîya and Râmatâ-panîya, which mention Śakti in the sense of creative energy.[700] Both classes of works treat of magical formulæ(mantras) [281] and the construction of mystic diagrams or yantras. This resemblance does not give us much assistance in chronology, for the dates of the later Upanishads are very uncertain, but it shows how the Tantras are connected with other branches of Hindu thought.
The more respected Tantras[699] closely resemble the later Upanishads like the Nṛisinhatâpanîya and Râmatâ-panîya, which refer to Śakti as creative energy.[700] Both types of texts discuss magical formulas (mantras) [281] and the creation of mystical diagrams or yantras. This similarity doesn’t help us much with dating, as the dates of the later Upanishads are quite uncertain, but it does highlight how the Tantras are linked to other aspects of Hindu thought.
The distinction between Tantras and Purâṇas is not always well-marked. The Bhâgavata Purâṇa countenances tantric rites[701] and the Agni Purâṇa (from chapter XXI onwards) bears a strong resemblance to a Tantra. As a rule the Tantras contain less historical and legendary matter than the Purâṇas and more directions as to ritual. But whereas the Purâṇas approve of both Vedic rites and others, the Tantras insist that ceremonies other than those which they prescribe are now useless. They maintain that each age of the world has its own special revelation and that in this age the Tantra-śâstra is the only scripture. Thus in the Mahânirvâṇa Tantra Śiva says:[702] "The fool who would follow other doctrines heedless of mine is as great a sinner as a parricide or the murderer of a Brahman or of a woman.... The Vedic rites and mantras which were efficacious in the first age have ceased to have power in this. They are now as powerless as snakes whose fangs have been drawn and are like dead things." The Kulârṇava Tantra (I. 79 ff.) inveighs against those who think they will obtain salvation by Vedic sacrifices or asceticism or reading sacred books, whereas it can be won only by tantric rites.
The difference between Tantras and Purâṇas isn't always clear. The Bhâgavata Purâṇa includes tantric rituals[701] and the Agni Purâṇa (starting from chapter XXI) closely resembles a Tantra. Generally, Tantras include less historical and legendary content than Purâṇas and have more guidance on rituals. However, while Purâṇas accept both Vedic rituals and others, Tantras argue that any ceremonies not prescribed by them are pointless. They claim that each era of the world has its own unique revelation and that in this age, the Tantra-śâstra is the only scripture. In the Mahânirvâṇa Tantra, Śiva states:[702] "Anyone who follows doctrines other than mine is as guilty as someone who kills their father or murders a Brahman or a woman.... The Vedic rituals and mantras that were effective in the first age no longer work in this one. They’re as ineffective as snakes that have had their fangs removed and are like lifeless objects." The Kulârṇava Tantra (I. 79 ff.) criticizes those who believe they can achieve salvation through Vedic sacrifices, ascetic practices, or reading sacred texts, asserting that it can only be obtained through tantric rituals.
Various lists of Tantras are given and it is generally admitted that many have been lost. The most complete, but somewhat theoretical enumeration[703] divides India and the adjoining lands into three regions to each of which sixty-four Tantras are assigned. The best known names are perhaps Mahânirvâṇa,[704] Sâradâtilaka,[705] Yoginî, Kulârṇava[706] and Rudra-Yâmala. A Tantra [282]is generally cast in the form of a dialogue in which Śiva instructs his consort but sometimes vice versâ. It is said that the former class are correctly described as Âgamas and the works where the Śakti addresses Śiva as Nigamas.[707] Some are also called Yâmalas and Dâmaras but I have found no definition of the meaning of these words. The Prapañcasâra Tantra[708] professes to be a revelation from Nârâyaṇa.
Various lists of Tantras exist, and it’s generally accepted that many have been lost. The most comprehensive, though somewhat theoretical, enumeration[703] divides India and its surrounding areas into three regions, with sixty-four Tantras assigned to each. The most well-known names likely include Mahânirvâṇa,[704] Sâradâtilaka,[705] Yoginî, Kulârṇava[706] and Rudra-Yâmala. A Tantra [282]is typically presented as a dialogue where Śiva teaches his consort, though sometimes it’s the other way around. The former type is said to be accurately described as Âgamas, while the works where the Śakti addresses Śiva are known as Nigamas.[707] Some are also referred to as Yâmalas and Dâmaras, but I haven’t come across any definitions for these terms. The Prapañcasâra Tantra[708] claims to be a revelation from Nârâyaṇa.
Śâktism and the Tantras which teach it are generally condemned by Hindus of other sects.[709] It is arguable that this condemnation is unjust, for like other forms of Hinduism the Tantras make the liberation of the soul their object and prescribe a life of religious observances including asceticism and meditation, after which the adept becomes released even in this life. But however much new tantric literature may be made accessible in future, I doubt if impartial criticism will come to any opinion except that Śâktism and Tantrism collect and emphasize what is superficial, trivial and even bad in Indian religion, omitting or neglecting its higher sides. If for instance the Mahânirvâṇa Tantra which is a good specimen of these works be compared with Śaṅkara's commentary on the Vedânta Sûtras, or the poems of Tulsi Das, it will be seen that it is woefully deficient in the excellences of either. But many tantric treatises are chiefly concerned with charms, spells, amulets and other magical methods of obtaining wealth, causing or averting disease and destroying enemies, processes which even if efficacious have nothing to do with the better side of religion.[710]
Śâktism and the Tantras that teach it are generally criticized by Hindus from other sects.[709] It can be argued that this criticism is unfair, as, like other branches of Hinduism, the Tantras aim for the liberation of the soul and advocate for a life of religious practices, including asceticism and meditation, through which practitioners can achieve release even in this life. However, despite any new tantric literature that may become available in the future, I doubt that unbiased criticism will yield any conclusion other than that Śâktism and Tantrism primarily highlight what is superficial, trivial, and even negative in Indian religion, while overlooking its deeper aspects. For example, when comparing the Mahânirvâṇa Tantra, which is a representative of these works, with Śaṅkara's commentary on the Vedânta Sûtras or the poems of Tulsi Das, it becomes clear that it lacks the virtues of either. Additionally, many tantric texts focus mainly on charms, spells, amulets, and other magical methods for acquiring wealth, preventing or curing illness, and vanquishing enemies, practices that, even if effective, have little to do with the more positive aspects of religion.[710]
The religious life prescribed in the Tantras[711] commences with initiation and requires the supervision of the Guru. The object of it is Siddhi or success, the highest form of which is spiritual perfection. Siddhi is produced by Sâdhana, or that method of [283] training the physical and psychic faculties which realizes their potentialities. Tantric training assumes a certain constitution of the universe and the repetition in miniature of this constitution in the human body which contains various nervous centres and subtle channels for the passage of energy unknown to vulgar anatomy. Thus the Śakti who pervades the universe is also present in the body as Kuṇḍalinî, a serpentine coil of energy, and it is part of Sâdhana to arouse this energy and make it mount from the lower to the higher centres. Kuṇḍalinî is also present in sounds and in letters. Hence if different parts of the body are touched to the accompaniment of appropriate mantras (which rite is called nyâsa) the various Śaktis are made to dwell in the human frame in suitable positions.
The religious life outlined in the Tantras[711] begins with initiation and requires guidance from a Guru. Its goal is Siddhi or success, with spiritual perfection being the highest form. Siddhi is achieved through Sâdhana, which is the process of training both physical and mental faculties to realize their potential. Tantric training is based on a specific understanding of the universe and reflects that understanding within the human body, which has various nerve centers and subtle channels for energy that aren't recognized in typical anatomy. Therefore, the Śakti that fills the universe is also present within the body as Kuṇḍalinî, a coiled energy, and part of Sâdhana involves awakening this energy and elevating it from the lower to the higher centers. Kuṇḍalinî is also found in sounds and letters. So, when different parts of the body are touched while reciting appropriate mantras (a practice known as nyâsa), the various Śaktis are activated to dwell in the human body in their designated positions.
The Tantras recognize that human beings are not equal and that codes and rituals must vary according to temperament and capacity. Three conditions of men, called the animal, heroic and divine,[712] are often mentioned and are said to characterize three periods of life—youth, manhood and age, or three classes of mankind, non-tantrists, ordinary tantrists, and adepts. These three conditions clearly correspond to the three Guṇas. Also men, or rather Hindus, belong to one of seven groups, or stages, according to the religious practices which it is best for them to follow. Śâktists apparently demur[713] to the statement commonly made by Indians as well as by Europeans that they are divided into two sects the Dakshiṇâcârins, or right-hand worshippers, whose ritual is public and decent, and the Vâmâcârins who meet to engage in secret but admittedly immoral orgies. But for practical purposes the division is just, although it must not be supposed that Dakshiṇâcârins necessarily condemn the secret worship. They may consider it as good for others but not for themselves. Śâktists apparently would prefer to state the matter thus. There are seven stages of religion. First come Vedic, Vishnuite and Śivaite worship, all three inferior, and then Dakshiṇâcâra, interpreted as meaning favourable worship, that is favourable to the accomplishment of higher purposes, because the worshipper now begins to understand the nature of Devî, the great goddess. These four kinds of worship are all said to belong to pravritti or active life. The other three, considered to be higher, require a special initiation and belong to nivritti, the [284]path of return in which passion and activity are suppressed.[714] And here is propounded the doctrine that passion can be destroyed and exhausted by passion,[715] that is to say that the impulses of eating, drinking and sexual intercourse are best subjugated by indulging them. The fifth stage, in which this method is first adopted, is called Vâmâcâra.[716] In the sixth, or Siddhântâcâra,[717] the adept becomes more and more free from passion and prejudice and is finally able to enter Kaulâcâra, the highest stage of all. A Kaula is one who has passed beyond all sects and belongs to none, since he has the knowledge of Brahman. "Possessing merely the form of man, he moves about this earth for the salvation of the world and the instruction of men."[718]
The Tantras acknowledge that people are not equal and that rules and rituals should vary based on individual temperament and ability. Three states of humanity—animal, heroic, and divine,[712]—are frequently referenced and are said to represent three stages of life: youth, adulthood, and old age, or three groups of people: non-tantrists, ordinary tantrists, and adepts. These three states correspond to the three Guṇas. Additionally, individuals, particularly Hindus, belong to one of seven groups or stages depending on the religious practices best suited for them. Śâktists seem to disagree[713] with the commonly held perspective, shared by both Indians and Europeans, that they are divided into two sects: the Dakshiṇâcārins, or right-hand worshippers, whose rituals are public and respectable, and the Vâmâcārins, who gather for secret but openly immoral rituals. However, for practical reasons, this division holds, although it shouldn't be assumed that Dakshiṇâcārins universally reject secret worship; they may view it as appropriate for others but not for themselves. Śâktists would likely prefer to present it this way: there are seven stages of religion. First come Vedic, Vishnuite, and Śivaite worship—considered inferior—and then Dakshiṇâcâra, interpreted as favorable worship that supports the attainment of higher goals because the worshipper begins to grasp the nature of Devî, the great goddess. All four types of worship fall under pravritti, or active life. The other three, deemed higher, require special initiation and belong to nivritti, the [284]path of return where passion and activity are controlled.[714] Here, there's the idea that passion can be overcome and exhausted through passion,[715] meaning that the urges to eat, drink, and engage in sexual activity are best managed by indulging them. The fifth stage, where this approach is first applied, is called Vâmâcâra.[716] In the sixth stage, Siddhântâcâra,[717] the adept gradually becomes less influenced by passion and bias, eventually reaching Kaulâcâra, the highest stage. A Kaula is someone who has transcended all sects and is not bound by any, as they possess the knowledge of Brahman. "Having merely the form of a human, they wander this earth for the salvation of the world and the guidance of others."[718]
These are aspirations common to all Indian religion. The peculiarity of the Tantras is to suppose that a ritual which is shocking to most Hindus is an indispensable preliminary to their attainment.[719] Its essential feature is known as pancatattva, the five elements, or pancamakâra the five m's, because they all begin with that letter, namely, madya, mâṃsa, matsya, mudrâ, and maithuna, wine, meat, fish, parched grain and copulation. The celebration of this ritual takes place at midnight, and is called cakra or circle. The proceedings begin by the devotees seating themselves in a circle and are said to terminate in an indiscriminate orgy. It is only fair to say that some Tantras inveigh against drunkenness and authorize only moderate drinking.[720] In all cases it is essential that the wine, flesh, etc., [285] should be formally dedicated to the goddess: without this preliminary indulgence in these pleasures is sinful. Indeed it may be said that apart from the ceremonial which they inculcate, the general principles of the Tantras breathe a liberal and intelligent spirit. Caste restrictions are minimized: travelling is permitted. Women are honoured: they can act as teachers: the burning of widows is forbidden:[721] girl widows may remarry[722] and the murder of a woman is peculiarly heinous. Prostitution is denounced. Whereas Christianity is sometimes accused of restricting its higher code to Church and Sundays, the opposite may be said of Tantrism. Outside the temple its morality is excellent.
These are aspirations that are common across all Indian religions. What makes the Tantras unique is the belief that a ritual considered shocking by most Hindus is a necessary step to achieving their goals.[719] Its key feature is known as pancatattva, the five elements, or pancamakâra the five m's, as they all start with that letter: madya (wine), mâṃsa (meat), matsya (fish), mudrâ (parched grain), and maithuna (copulation). The ritual is celebrated at midnight and is called cakra or circle. It begins with participants sitting in a circle and is said to end in an unrestrained celebration. It's important to note that some Tantras criticize excessive drinking and allow only moderate consumption.[720] In every case, it is crucial that the wine, meat, etc., [285] are formally offered to the goddess: without this, indulging in these pleasures is considered sinful. Indeed, it can be said that aside from the specific rituals they promote, the general principles of the Tantras reflect a liberal and open-minded spirit. Caste limitations are lessened; travel is allowed. Women are respected; they can serve as teachers; the practice of suttee (widow burning) is banned:[721] girl widows are allowed to remarry[722] and killing a woman is viewed as particularly atrocious. Prostitution is condemned. While Christianity is sometimes criticized for limiting its higher standards to the Church and Sundays, the opposite can be said for Tantrism. Its moral conduct outside the temple is commendable.
A work like the Mahânirvâṇa Tantra presents a refined form of Śâktism modified, so far as may be, in conformity with ordinary Hindu usage.[723] But other features indubitably connect it with aboriginal cults. For instance there is a legend which relates how the body of the Śakti was cut into pieces and scattered over Assam and Bengal. This story has an uncouth and barbarous air and seems out of place even in Puranic mythology. It recalls the tales told of Osiris, Orpheus and Halfdan the Black[724] and may be ultimately traceable to the idea that the dismemberment of a deity or a human representative ensures fertility. Until recently the Khonds of Bengal used to hack human victims in pieces as a sacrifice to the Earth Goddess and throw the shreds of flesh on the fields to secure a good harvest.[725] In Sanskrit literature I have not found any authority for the dismemberment of Satî earlier than the Tantras or Upapurâṇas (e.g. Kâlikâ), but this late appearance does not mean that the legend is late in itself but merely that it was not countenanced by Sanskrit writers until medieval times. Various reasons for the dismemberment are given and the incident is rather awkwardly tacked on to other stories. One common version relates that when Satî (one of the many forms of Śakti) died of vexation because her husband Śiva was insulted by [286] her father Daksha, Śiva took up her corpse and wandered distractedly carrying it on his shoulder.[726] In order to stop this penance Vishṇu followed him and cut off pieces from the corpse with his quoit until the whole had fallen to earth in fifty-one pieces. The spots where these pieces touched the ground are held sacred and called pîths. At most of them are shown a rock supposed to represent some portion of the goddess's body and some object called a bhairabi, left by Śiva as a guardian to protect her and often taking the form of a lingam. The most important of these pîths are Kâmâkhyâ near Gauhati, Faljur in the Jaintia Parganas, and Kalighat in Calcutta.[727]
A work like the Mahânirvâṇa Tantra offers a refined version of Śâktism adapted to fit regular Hindu customs.[723] However, other aspects undeniably link it to ancient cults. For example, there’s a legend about how the body of the Śakti was chopped into pieces and spread across Assam and Bengal. This story feels crude and out of place, even within Puranic mythology. It brings to mind the myths of Osiris, Orpheus, and Halfdan the Black[724] and may ultimately stem from the belief that dismembering a deity or a human representative promotes fertility. Until recently, the Khonds of Bengal would chop human victims into pieces as a sacrifice to the Earth Goddess, scattering the remains on the fields to ensure a good harvest.[725] In Sanskrit literature, I haven’t found any references to the dismemberment of Satî before the Tantras or Upapurâṇas (e.g., Kâlikâ), but this late appearance doesn’t imply that the legend itself is recent; it just means it wasn’t acknowledged by Sanskrit writers until medieval times. There are various explanations for the dismemberment, and the story is somewhat awkwardly attached to other narratives. One common version states that when Satî (one of the many forms of Śakti) died of grief because her husband Śiva was insulted by her father Daksha, Śiva carried her corpse around on his shoulder in madness.[726] To stop his mourning, Vishṇu followed him and used his discus to slice off parts of the corpse until it was completely scattered, landing in fifty-one pieces. The locations where these pieces fell are considered sacred and are called pîths. At many of these sites, there's a stone thought to represent a part of the goddess’s body, along with an object known as a bhairabi, left by Śiva as a guardian to protect her, often taking the form of a lingam. The most significant of these pîths are Kâmâkhyâ near Gauhati, Faljur in the Jaintia Parganas, and Kalighat in Calcutta.[727]
Though the Śakti of Śiva is theoretically one, yet since she assumes many forms she becomes in practice many deities or rather she is many deities combined in one or sometimes a sovereign attended by a retinue of similar female spirits. Among such forms we find the ten Mahâvidyâs, or personifications of her supernatural knowledge; the Mahâmâtris, Mâtrikâs or the Great Mothers, allied to the aboriginal goddesses already mentioned; the Nâyakas or mistresses; the Yoginîs or sorceresses, and fiends called Ḍâkinîs. But the most popular of her manifestations are Durgâ and Kâlî. The sects which revere these goddesses are the most important religious bodies in Bengal, where they number thirty-five million adherents. The Durgâpûja is the greatest festival of the year in north-eastern India[728] and in the temple of Kalighat at Calcutta may be seen the singular spectacle of educated Hindus decapitating goats before the image of Kâlî. It is a black female figure with gaping mouth and protruded tongue dancing on a prostrate body,[729] and [287] adorned with skulls and horrid emblems of destruction. Of her four hands two carry a sword and a severed head but the other two are extended to give blessing and protection to her worshippers. So great is the crowd of enthusiastic suppliants that it is often hard to approach the shrine and the nationalist party in Bengal who clamour for parliamentary institutions are among the goddess's devotees.
Though the energy of Shiva is theoretically one, since she takes on many forms, she practically becomes many deities or rather a combination of many deities in one, or sometimes a sovereign accompanied by a group of similar female spirits. Among these forms, we find the ten Mahāvidyās, which represent her supernatural knowledge; the Mahāmātris, Mātrikās, or Great Mothers, related to the indigenous goddesses already mentioned; the Nâyakas or mistresses; the Yoginīs or sorceresses, and evil spirits known as Ḍākinīs. But the most popular of her manifestations are Durga and Kali. The sects that honor these goddesses are the most significant religious groups in Bengal, where they have around thirty-five million followers. The Durga Puja is the biggest festival of the year in northeastern India[728] and in the temple of Kalighat in Calcutta, one can witness the unique sight of educated Hindus decapitating goats before the image of Kali. She is represented as a black female figure with a gaping mouth and protruding tongue dancing on a fallen body,[729] and [287] adorned with skulls and horrifying symbols of destruction. Of her four hands, two hold a sword and a severed head, while the other two are raised to bless and protect her worshippers. The crowd of enthusiastic devotees is so large that it is often difficult to approach the shrine, and the nationalist group in Bengal, who call for parliamentary reforms, are among the goddess's followers.
It is easy to criticize and condemn this worship. Its outward signs are repulsive to Europeans and its inner meaning strange, for even those who pray to the Madonna are startled by the idea that the divine nature is essentially feminine.[730] Yet this idea has deep roots in the heart of Bengal and with it another idea: the terrors of death, plague and storm are half but only half revelations of the goddess-mother who can be smiling and tender as well. Whatever may be the origin of Kâlî and of the strange images which represent her, she is now no she-devil who needs to be propitiated, but a reminder that birth and death are twins, that the horrors of the world come from the same source as its grace and beauty and that cheerful acceptance of the deity's terrible manifestations is an essential part of the higher spiritual life.[731] These ideas are best expressed in the songs of Râma Prasâda Sen (1718-1775) which "still reign supreme in the villages" of Bengal and show that this strange worship has really a hold on millions of Indian rustics.[732] The directness and childlike [288] simplicity of his poems have caused an Indian critic to compare him to Blake. "Though the mother beat the child," he sings,
It’s easy to criticize and reject this worship. Its outward signs are off-putting to Europeans, and its deeper meaning is unfamiliar. Even those who pray to the Madonna might be taken aback by the idea that the divine nature is fundamentally feminine.[730] Yet this concept is deeply rooted in the heart of Bengal, along with another idea: the fears of death, disease, and storms are only partially revelations of the goddess-mother, who can also be nurturing and gentle. Regardless of the origins of Kâlî and the unusual images representing her, she is not a malevolent force needing to be appeased; instead, she serves as a reminder that birth and death are intertwined, that the world's horrors come from the same source as its grace and beauty, and that accepting the deity's fearsome aspects is a crucial part of a higher spiritual life.[731] These ideas are best conveyed in the songs of Râma Prasâda Sen (1718-1775), which "still dominate the villages" of Bengal and demonstrate that this unique worship truly resonates with millions of Indian villagers.[732] The straightforwardness and childlike simplicity of his poems have led an Indian critic to compare him to Blake. "Though the mother beat the child," he sings,
"the child cries mother, mother, and clings still tighter to her garment. True, I cannot see thee, yet I am not a lost child. I still cry mother, mother."
"the child cries mom, mom, and __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ clings even tighter to her clothes. True, I I can’t see you, but I’m not a lost child. "I still cry, mom."
"All the miseries that I have suffered and am suffering, I know, O mother, to be your mercy alone."
"All the pain I’ve been through and what I’m dealing with now, "I understand, oh mother, that your mercy is all that matters."
I must confess that I cannot fully sympathize with this worship, even when it is sung in the hymns of Râma Prasâda, but it is clear that he makes it tolerable just because he throws aside all the magic and ritual of the Tantras and deals straight with what are for him elemental and emotional facts. He makes even sceptics feel that he has really seen God in this strange guise.
I have to admit that I can't completely relate to this worship, even when it's performed in the hymns of Râma Prasâda. However, it's clear that he makes it bearable because he discards all the magic and rituals of the Tantras and addresses what he sees as fundamental and emotional truths. He even makes skeptics sense that he has genuinely experienced God in this unusual form.
The chief sanctuary of Śâktism is at Kâmâkhyâ (or Kâmâkshâ) on a hill which stands on the banks of the Brahmaputra, about two miles below Gauhati. It is mentioned in the Padma Purâṇa. The temples have been rebuilt several times, and in the eighteenth century were munificently endowed by an Ahom king, and placed under the management of a Brahman from Nadia in Bengal, with reversion to his descendants who bear the title of Parbatiya Gosains. Considerable estates are still assigned to their upkeep. There are ten[733] shrines on the hill dedicated to various forms of the Śakti. The situation is magnificent, commanding an extensive prospect over the Brahmaputra and the plains on either bank, but none of the buildings are of much architectural merit. The largest and best is the temple dedicated to Kâmâkhyâ herself, the goddess of sexual desire. It is of the style usual in northern India, an unlighted shrine surmounted by a dome, and approached by a rather ample vestibule, which is also imperfectly lighted. An inscription has been preserved recording the restoration of the temple about 1550 but only the present basement dates from that time, most of the super-structure being recent. Europeans may not enter but an image of the goddess can be seen from a side door. In the depths of the shrine is said to be a cleft in the rock, adored as the Yoni of Śakti. In front of the temple are two posts to which a goat is tied, and decapitated daily at noon. Below the principal shrine is the temple of Bhairavî. Human sacrifices were offered here in comparatively recent times, and it is not denied that they would be offered now if the law allowed. Also it is not denied [289] that the rites of the "five m's" already mentioned are frequently performed in these temples, and that Aghoris may be found in them. The spot attracts a considerable number of pilgrims from Bengal, and a wealthy devotee has built a villa on the hill and pays visits to it for the purpose of taking part in the rites. I was informed that the most esteemed scriptures of the sect are the Yoginî Tantra, the Mahânirvâṇa Tantra, and the Kâlikâ Purâṇa. This last work contains a section or chapter on blood,[734] which gives rules for the performance of human sacrifices. It states however that they should not be performed by the first three castes, which is perhaps a way of saying that though they may be performed by non-Aryans under Brahmanic auspices they form no part of the Aryan religion. But they are recommended to princes and ministers and should not be performed without the consent of princes. The ritual bears little resemblance to the Vedic sacrifices and the essence of the ceremony is the presentation to the goddess of the victim's severed head in a vessel of gold, silver, copper, brass or wood but not of iron. The axe with which the decapitation is to be performed is solemnly consecrated to Kâlî and the victim is worshipped before immolation. The sacrificer first thinks of Brahmâ and the other gods as being present in the victim's body, and then prays to him directly as being all the gods in one. "When this has been done" says Śiva, who is represented as himself revealing these rules, "the victim is even as myself." This identification of the human victim with the god has many analogies elsewhere, particularly among the Khonds.[735]
The main sanctuary of Śâktism is at Kāmākhyā (or Kāmākshā) on a hill by the Brahmaputra River, about two miles downstream from Gauhati. It's mentioned in the Padma Purāṇa. The temples have been rebuilt multiple times, and in the eighteenth century, they were generously funded by an Ahom king and managed by a Brahmin from Nadia in Bengal, with his descendants holding the title of Parbatiya Gosains. Significant estates are still allocated for their maintenance. There are ten[733] shrines on the hill dedicated to various forms of Śakti. The location is stunning, offering a wide view over the Brahmaputra and the plains on either side, but none of the buildings are particularly architecturally significant. The largest and most impressive is the temple dedicated to Kāmākhyā herself, the goddess of sexual desire. It follows the typical northern Indian style, with a dimly lit shrine topped by a dome and accessed through a spacious vestibule that is also poorly lit. An inscription records the temple's restoration around 1550, but only the current basement dates back to that time; most of the structure is relatively new. Europeans are not allowed inside, but an image of the goddess can be viewed from a side door. Deep within the shrine, there is said to be a fissure in the rock, honored as the Yoni of Śakti. In front of the temple are two posts where a goat is tied and beheaded daily at noon. Below the main shrine is the temple of Bhairavī. Human sacrifices were made here not long ago, and it's acknowledged that they would still occur if permitted by law. It's also accepted [289] that the rituals involving the "five m's" mentioned earlier are often performed in these temples, and Aghoris can be found among them. The site draws many pilgrims from Bengal, and a wealthy devotee has built a villa on the hill, frequently visiting to participate in the rituals. I was told that the most respected texts of the sect are the Yoginī Tantra, the Mahānirvāṇa Tantra, and the Kālīkā Purāṇa. The latter includes a section or chapter on blood,[734] outlining the guidelines for human sacrifices. It specifies that these should not be performed by the first three castes, perhaps suggesting that while non-Aryans can conduct them under Brahmanic supervision, they don’t form a part of Aryan religion. However, they are recommended for princes and officials and should only be performed with royal consent. The ritual bears little resemblance to Vedic sacrifices, with the heart of the ceremony being the offering to the goddess of the victim's severed head in a gold, silver, copper, brass, or wooden vessel, but not iron. The axe used for the decapitation is ceremonially consecrated to Kālī, and the victim is worshipped before the sacrifice. The sacrificer first considers Brahmā and the other gods as present in the victim's body and then prays directly to him, affirming that he represents all the gods. "Once this has been accomplished," says Śiva, who is depicted as revealing these guidelines, "the victim is as I am." This identification of the human victim with the deity is found in many cultures, especially among the Khonds.[735]
It is remarkable that this barbarous and immoral worship, though looked at askance except in its own holy places, is by no means confined to the lower castes. A series of apologies composed in excellent English (but sometimes anonymous) attest the sympathy of the educated. So far as theology and metaphysics are concerned, these defences are plausible. The Śakti is identified with Prakṛiti or with the Mâyâ of the Advaita philosophy and defined as the energy, coexistent with Brahman, which creates the world. But attempts to palliate the ceremonial, such as the argument that it is a consecration and limitation of the appetites because they may be gratified only in the service [290] of the goddess, are not convincing. Nor do the Śâktas, when able to profess their faith openly, deny the nature of their rites or the importance attached to them. An oft-quoted tantric verse represents Śiva as saying Maithunena mahâyogî mama tulyo na saṁśayaḥ. And for practical purposes that is the gist of Śâktist teaching.
It’s remarkable that this brutal and immoral worship, although frowned upon except in its own sacred places, isn't limited to the lower castes. A series of apologies written in excellent English (though sometimes anonymous) show that educated people sympathize with it. As far as theology and philosophy go, these defenses seem reasonable. The Śakti is linked with Prakṛiti or the Mâyâ of Advaita philosophy and defined as the energy that exists alongside Brahman, which creates the world. However, attempts to justify the rituals, like the argument that they serve to consecrate and limit our desires because they can only be satisfied in the service of the goddess, aren't convincing. Nor do the Śâktas, when they can openly express their beliefs, deny the nature of their rituals or the significance attached to them. A frequently quoted tantric verse depicts Śiva saying Maithunena mahâyogî mama tulyo na saṁśayaḥ. And for practical purposes, that sums up the essence of Śâktist teaching.
The temples of Kâmâkhyâ leave a disagreeable impression—an impression of dark evil haunts of lust and bloodshed, akin to madness and unrelieved by any grace or vigour of art. For there is no attempt in them to represent the terrible or voluptuous aspects of Hinduism, such as find expression in sculpture elsewhere. All the buildings, and especially the modern temple of Kâlî, which was in process of construction when I saw the place, testify to the atrophy and paralysis produced by erotic forms of religion in the artistic and intellectual spheres, a phenomenon which finds another sad illustration in quite different theological surroundings among the Vallabhâcârya sect at Gokul near Muttra.
The temples of Kâmâkhyâ leave an unpleasant impression—one of dark, twisted places filled with lust and violence, resembling madness and lacking any grace or vitality of art. There’s no effort here to showcase the terrifying or sensual aspects of Hinduism, which are usually expressed through sculpture elsewhere. All the structures, especially the modern temple of Kâlî, which was under construction when I visited, reflect the decline and stagnation caused by erotic forms of religion in both artistic and intellectual domains, a phenomenon that can be sadly seen in a different theological context among the Vallabhâcârya sect at Gokul near Muttra.
It would be a poor service to India to palliate the evils and extravagances of Śâktism, but still it must be made clear that it is not a mere survival of barbaric practices. The writers of the Tantras are good Hindus and declare that their object is to teach liberation and union with the Supreme Spirit. The ecstasies induced by tantric rites produce this here in a preliminary form to be made perfect in the liberated soul. This is not the craze of a few hysterical devotees, but the faith of millions among whom many are well educated. In some aspects Śâktism is similar to the erotic Vishnuite sects, but there is little real analogy in their ways of thinking. For the essence of Vishnuism is passionate devotion and self-surrender to a deity and this idea is not prominent in the Tantras. The strange inconsistencies of Śâktism are of the kind which are characteristic of Hinduism as a whole, but the contrasts are more violent and the monstrosities more conspicuous than elsewhere; wild legends and metaphysics are mixed together, and the peace that passes all understanding is to be obtained by orgies and offerings of blood.
It would be a disservice to India to downplay the issues and excesses of Śâktism, but it should be clear that it isn’t just a remnant of primitive customs. The authors of the Tantras are devout Hindus and claim their goal is to teach liberation and unity with the Supreme Spirit. The ecstasies brought about by tantric rituals provide an initial experience of this, which can be perfected in the liberated soul. This isn't just the obsession of a few overly emotional devotees; it's a belief held by millions, many of whom are well educated. In some ways, Śâktism resembles the sensual Vishnuite sects, but their mindsets are quite different. The heart of Vishnuism is deep devotion and surrender to a deity, which isn’t a central theme in the Tantras. The strange contradictions found in Śâktism are typical of Hinduism in general, but the contrasts are more intense and the extremes more noticeable; wild tales and philosophy are intertwined, and the peace that surpasses all understanding is sought through rituals and blood offerings.
FOOTNOTES:
[680] See also chap. XXIV. as to Śâktism and Tantrism in Buddhism. Copious materials for the study of Śâktism and Tantrism are being made available in the series of tantric texts edited in Sanskrit and Tibetan, and in some cases translated by the author who uses the pseudonym A. Avalon.
[680] See also chap. XXIV. regarding Śâktism and Tantrism in Buddhism. A wealth of resources for studying Śâktism and Tantrism is being provided in the series of tantric texts edited in Sanskrit and Tibetan, with some translated by the author who goes by the pseudonym A. Avalon.
[681] See Annales du Musée Guimet, Tome VIII. Si-Do-In-Dzon. Gestes de l'officiant dans les cérémonies mystiques des sectes Tendai et Singon, 1899.
[681] See Annales du Musée Guimet, Volume VIII. Si-Do-In-Dzon. Actions of the officiant in the mystical ceremonies of the Tendai and Shingon sects, 1899.
[683] See Dhalla, Zoroastrian Theology, p. 116.
[684] Specially Ath. Veda, XII. 1.
[688] Crooke, Popular Religion of Northern India, I. 63. Monier Williams, Brahm. and Hinduism, p. 57 gives an interesting account of the shrine of Kâlî at Vindhyâcal said to have been formerly frequented by Thugs.
[688] Crooke, Popular Religion of Northern India, I. 63. Monier Williams, Brahm. and Hinduism, p. 57 provides an interesting description of the shrine of Kâlî at Vindhyâcal, which was said to have been often visited by Thugs.
[689] This idea that deities have different aspects in which they practically become different persons is very prevalent in Tibetan mythology which is borrowed from medieval Bengal.
[689] The concept that gods have various aspects where they essentially become different beings is very common in Tibetan mythology, which is influenced by medieval Bengal.
[690] Though there are great temples erected to goddesses in S. India, there are also some signs of hostility to Śâktism. See the curious legends about an attendant of Śiva called Bhriṅgi who would not worship Pârvatî. Hultzsch, South Indian Inscriptions, II. ii. p. 190.
[690] While there are impressive temples dedicated to goddesses in South India, there are also indications of resistance to Śâktism. Consider the interesting legends about a servant of Śiva named Bhriṅgi who refused to worship Pârvatî. Hultzsch, South Indian Inscriptions, II. ii. p. 190.
[691] There is a curious tendency in India to regard the male principle as quiescent, the female as active and stimulating. The Chinese, who are equally fond of using these two principles in their cosmological speculations, adopt the opposite view. The Yang (male) is positive and active. The Yin (female) is negative and passive.
[691] There is an interesting trend in India to see the male principle as calm and inactive, while viewing the female principle as dynamic and energizing. The Chinese, who also incorporate these two principles in their cosmological theories, see it differently. The Yang (male) is affirmative and energetic. The Yin (female) is receptive and passive.
[692] The Mahânirvâṇa Tantra seems to have been composed in Bengal since it recommends for sacrificial purposes (VI. 7) three kinds of fish said to be characteristic of that region. On the other hand Buddhist works called Tantras are said to have been composed in north-western India. Udyâna had an old reputation for magic and even in modern times Śâktism exists in western Tibet and Leh. It is highly probable that in all these districts the practice of magic and the worship of mountain goddesses were prevalent, but I find little evidence that a definite Śâkta sect arose elsewhere than in Bengal and Assam or that the Śâktist corruption of Buddhism prevailed elsewhere than in Magadha and Bengal.
[692] The Mahânirvâṇa Tantra appears to have been written in Bengal, as it suggests using three types of fish for sacrifices (VI. 7) that are unique to that area. In contrast, Buddhist texts known as Tantras are thought to have originated in north-western India. Udyâna has long been known for its magical practices, and even today, Śâktism is found in western Tibet and Leh. It's very likely that magic and the worship of mountain goddesses were common in all these regions, but I see little indication that a specific Śâkta sect developed outside of Bengal and Assam, or that the Śâktist adaptation of Buddhism spread beyond Magadha and Bengal.
[693] But the Brahmans of isolated localities, like Satara in the Bombay Presidency, are said to be Śâktas and the Kâñculiyas of S. India are described as a Śâktist sect.
[693] But the Brahmans from remote areas, like Satara in the Bombay Presidency, are said to follow Śâktism, and the Kâñculiyas from South India are identified as a Śâktist sect.
[695] See especially the story of Manasâ Devi in Dinesh Chandra Sen (Beng. Lang. and Lit. 257), who says the earliest literary version dates from the twelfth century. But doubtless the story is much older.
[695] Check out the story of Manasâ Devi in Dinesh Chandra Sen (Beng. Lang. and Lit. 257), who mentions that the earliest literary version comes from the twelfth century. However, the story is definitely much older.
[696] Virâtap. chap. VI. (not in all MSS.). Bhishmap. chap. XXIII. Also in the Harivaṃsa, vv. 3236 ff. Pargiter considers that the Devî-Mâhâtmya was probably composed in the fifth or sixth century. Chap. XXI. of the Lotus Sûtra contains a spell invoking a goddess under many names. Though this chapter is an addition to the original work, it was translated into Chinese between 265 and 316.
[696] Virâtap. chap. VI. (not in all MSS.). Bhishmap. chap. XXIII. Also in the Harivaṃsa, vv. 3236 ff. Pargiter believes that the Devî-Mâhâtmya was likely written in the fifth or sixth century. Chap. XXI. of the Lotus Sûtra includes a spell that calls on a goddess by many names. Even though this chapter is an addition to the original text, it was translated into Chinese between 265 and 316.
[699] As pointed out elsewhere, though this word is most commonly used of the Śâkta scriptures it is not restricted to them and we hear of both Buddhist and Vaishṇava Tantras.
[699] As mentioned elsewhere, while this term is primarily associated with the Śâkta scriptures, it's not limited to them, and we also find references to Buddhist and Vaishṇava Tantras.
[700] The Adhyâtma Râmâyaṇa is an instance of Śâktist ideas in another theological setting. It is a Vishnuite work but Sità is made to say that she is Prakṛiti who does all the deeds related in the poem, whereas Râma is Purusha, inactive and a witness of her deeds.
[700] The Adhyâtma Râmâyaṇa is an example of Śâktist ideas in a different theological context. It's a Vishnuite text, but Sità claims she is Prakṛiti, the one who performs all the actions described in the poem, while Râma represents Purusha, who is inactive and merely observes her actions.
[701] XI. iii. 47-8; XI. V. 28 and 31. Probably Vishnuite not Śâktist Tantras are meant but the Purana distinguishes between Vedic revelation meant for previous ages and tantric revelation meant for the present day. So too Kullûka Bhaṭṭa the commentator on Manu who was a Bengali and probably lived in the fifteenth century says (on Manu II. i.) that Śruti is twofold, Vedic and tantric. Śrutisca dvividhâ vaidikî tântrikîca.
[701] XI. iii. 47-8; XI. V. 28 and 31. Likely, the texts being referred to are not Śâktist Tantras but Vishnuite ones. The Purana makes a distinction between Vedic revelations intended for earlier ages and tantric revelations intended for the present time. Similarly, Kullûka Bhaṭṭa, the commentator on Manu who was from Bengal and likely lived in the fifteenth century, states (on Manu II. i.) that there are two types of Śruti: Vedic and tantric. Śrutisca dvividhâ vaidikî tântrikîca.
[702] II. 15.
[703] See for full list Avalon, Principles of Tantra, pp. lxv-lxvii. A collection of thirty-seven Tantras has been published at Calcutta by Babu Rasik Mohun Chatterjee and a few have been published separately.
[703] For the complete list, see Avalon, Principles of Tantra, pp. lxv-lxvii. A collection of thirty-seven Tantras has been published in Calcutta by Babu Rasik Mohun Chatterjee, and a few have been published separately.
[705] Analysed in J.A.O.S. XXIII. i. 1902.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Analyzed in J.A.O.S. XXIII. i. 1902.
[707] See Avalon, Principles of Tantra, p. lxi. But these are probably special meanings attached to the words by tantric schools. Nigama is found pretty frequently, e.g. Manu, IV. 19 and Lalita-vistara, XII. But it is not likely that it is used there in this special sense.
[707] See Avalon, Principles of Tantra, p. lxi. However, these are likely specific meanings given to the words by tantric schools. Nigama appears quite often, e.g. Manu, IV. 19 and Lalita-vistara, XII. But it’s unlikely that it's used in this particular sense in those contexts.
[708] Edited by Avalon, 1914.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Edited by Avalon, 1914.
[710] Tantrism has some analogy to the Fêng-shui or geomancy of the Chinese. Both take ancient superstitions which seem incompatible with science and systematize them into pseudo-sciences, remaining blind to the fact that the subject-matter is wholly imaginary.
[710] Tantrism is somewhat similar to the Fêng-shui or geomancy of the Chinese. Both take old superstitions that seem at odds with science and turn them into pseudo-sciences, ignoring the reality that the concepts involved are completely imaginary.
[712] Paśu-, vîra-, divya-bhâva.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Animal-, hero-, divine-state.
[714] "The eternal rhythm of Divine Breath is outwards from spirit to matter and inwards from matter to spirit. Devî as Mâyâ evolves the world. As Mahâmâyâ she recalls it to herself.... Each of these movements is divine. Enjoyment and liberation are each her gifts." Avalon, Mahân. Tan. p. cxl.
[714] "The timeless flow of Divine Breath moves outward from spirit to matter and inward from matter to spirit. Devî as Mâyâ creates the world. As Mahâmâyâ, she draws it back to herself.... Each of these movements is divine. Enjoyment and liberation are both her gifts." Avalon, Mahân. Tan. p. cxl.
[715] Yair eva patanam dravyaih siddhis tair eva coditâ—Kulârṇava Tantra, V. 48. There is probably something similar in Taoism. See Wieger, Histoire des Croyances religieuses en Chine, p. 409. The Indian Tantrists were aware of the dangers of their system and said it was as difficult as walking on the edge of a sword or holding a tiger.
[715] Yair eva patanam dravyaih siddhis tair eva coditâ—Kulârṇava Tantra, V. 48. There’s likely something similar in Taoism. See Wieger, Histoire des Croyances religieuses en Chine, p. 409. The Indian Tantrists recognized the risks of their system and described it as being as challenging as walking on the edge of a sword or taming a tiger.
[716] Vâmâcâra is said not to mean left-hand worship but woman (vâmâ) worship. This interpretation of Dakshiṇa and Vâmâcâra is probably fanciful.
[716] Vâmâcâra is said to refer not to left-hand worship but to the worship of woman (vâmâ). This interpretation of Dakshiṇa and Vâmâcâra is likely imaginative.
[719] Although the Tantras occasionally say that mere ritual is not sufficient for the highest religions, yet indispensable preliminary is often understood as meaning sure means. Thus the Mahânirvâṇa Tantra (x. 202, Avalon's transl.) says "Those who worship the Kaulas with panca tattva and with heart uplifted, cause the salvation of their ancestors and themselves attain the highest end."
[719] Although the Tantras sometimes state that just following rituals isn't enough for the highest forms of religion, the term indispensable preliminary is often interpreted as meaning sure means. For instance, the Mahânirvâṇa Tantra (x. 202, Avalon's transl.) says, "Those who worship the Kaulas with panca tattva and with their hearts uplifted, ensure the salvation of their ancestors and achieve the highest goal for themselves."
[722] Ib. XI. 67.
[727] Hsüan Chuang (Walters, vol. I. chap, VII) mentions several sacred places in N.W. India where the Buddha in a previous birth was dismembered or gave his flesh to feed mankind. Can these places have been similar to the pîths of Assam and were the original heroes of the legend deities who were dismembered like Satî and subsequently accommodated to Buddhist theology as Bodhisattvas?
[727] Hsüan Chuang (Walters, vol. I, chap. VII) talks about several sacred sites in Northwest India where the Buddha, in a past life, was torn apart or offered his flesh to feed people. Could these places have been like the pîths of Assam, and were the original figures in the legend deities who were dismembered like Satî, later adapted into Buddhist theology as Bodhisattvas?
[728] It is an autumnal festival. A special image of the goddess is made which is worshipped for nine days and then thrown into the river. For an account of the festival which makes its tantric character very clear see Durgâ Puja by Pratapachandra Ghosha, Calcutta, 1871.
[728] It's an autumn festival. A special image of the goddess is created, which is honored for nine days and then immersed in the river. For a detailed description of the festival that highlights its tantric aspects, see Durgâ Puja by Pratapachandra Ghosha, Calcutta, 1871.
[729] One explanation given is that she was so elated with her victories over giants that she began to dance which shook the Universe. Śiva in order to save the world placed himself beneath her feet and when she saw she was trampling on her husband, she stopped. But there are other explanations.
[729] One reason given is that she was so thrilled with her wins over giants that she started dancing, which shook the universe. To protect the world, Śiva positioned himself beneath her feet, and when she realized she was stepping on her husband, she stopped. But there are other explanations.
Another of the strangely barbaric legends which cluster round the Śakti is illustrated by the figure called Chinnamasṭakâ. It represents the goddess as carrying her own head which she has just cut off, while from the neck spout fountains of blood which are drunk by her attendants and by the severed head itself.
Another of the oddly brutal legends surrounding the Śakti is shown by the figure known as Chinnamasṭakâ. It depicts the goddess holding her own head that she has just decapitated, while from her neck gushes fountains of blood that are consumed by her attendants and by the severed head itself.
[730] Yet the English mystic Julian, the anchoress of Norwich (c. 1400), insists on the motherhood as well as the fatherhood of God. "God is our mother, brother and Saviour." "As verily God is our father, so verily God is our mother."
[730] Yet the English mystic Julian, the anchoress of Norwich (around 1400), emphasizes both the motherhood and fatherhood of God. "God is our mother, brother, and Savior." "Just as truly as God is our father, so truly God is our mother."
So too in an inscription found at Capua (C.I.N. 3580) Isis is addressed as una quae es omnia.
So in an inscription found at Capua (C.I.N. 3580), Isis is referred to as the one who is everything.
The Power addressed in Swinburne's poems Mater Triumphalis, Hertha, The Pilgrims and Dolores is really a conception very similar to Śakti.
The power discussed in Swinburne's poems Mater Triumphalis, Hertha, The Pilgrims, and Dolores is actually a concept quite similar to Śakti.
[732] See Dinesh Chandra Sen, Hist. Beng. Lang, and Lit. pp. 712-721. Even the iconoclast Devendranath Tagore speaks of the Universal Mother. See Autobiog. p. 240.
[732] See Dinesh Chandra Sen, Hist. Beng. Lang, and Lit. pp. 712-721. Even the nonconformist Devendranath Tagore talks about the Universal Mother. See Autobiog. p. 240.
[735] See Frazer, op. cit. p. 246.
CHAPTER XXXIII
HINDU PHILOSOPHY
Philosophy is more closely connected with religion in India than in Europe. It is not a dispassionate scientific investigation but a practical religious quest. Even the Nyâya school, which is concerned chiefly with formal logic, promises that by the removal of false knowledge it can emancipate the soul and give the bliss of salvation. Nor are the expressions system or school of philosophy, commonly used to render darśana, altogether happy. The word is derived from the root dṛiś, to see, and means a way of looking at things. As such a way of looking is supposed to be both comprehensive and orderly, it is more or less what we call philosophical, but the points of view are so special and so various that the result is not always what we call a philosophical system. Mádhava's[736] list of Darśanas includes Buddhism and Jainism, which are commonly regarded as separate religions, as well as the Pâśupata and Śaiva, which are sects of Hinduism. The Darśana of Jaimini is merely a discussion of general questions relating to sacrifices: the Nyâya Darśana examines logic and rhetoric: the Pâṇiniya Darśana treats of grammar and the nature of language, but claims that it ought to be studied "as the means for attaining the chief end of man."[737]
Philosophy is more intertwined with religion in India than in Europe. It's not just an objective scientific study but a practical religious journey. Even the Nyâya school, which mainly focuses on formal logic, asserts that by clearing away false knowledge, it can free the soul and offer the joy of salvation. The terms "system" or "school of philosophy," often used to translate darśana, don't quite capture its essence. The word comes from the root dṛiś, meaning "to see," and signifies a perspective on understanding things. Since this perspective is expected to be both inclusive and organized, it aligns with what we refer to as philosophical. However, the viewpoints are so unique and varied that they don't always result in what we would consider a philosophical system. Mádhava's[736] list of Darśanas includes Buddhism and Jainism, which are typically seen as distinct religions, alongside the Pâśupata and Śaiva, which are sects within Hinduism. Jaimini's Darśana mainly discusses general issues related to sacrifices; the Nyâya Darśana looks into logic and rhetoric; the Pâṇiniya Darśana focuses on grammar and the nature of language, but maintains that it should be studied "as the means for achieving the ultimate goal of humanity."[737]
Six of the Darśanas have received special prominence and are often called the six Orthodox Schools. They are the Nyâya and Vaiśeshika, Sâṅkhya and Yoga, Pûrva and Uttara Mîmâṃsâ, [292] or Vedânta. The rest are either comparatively unimportant or are more conveniently treated of as religious sects. The six placed on the select list are sufficiently miscellaneous and one wonders what principle of classification can have brought them together. The first two have little connection with religion, though they put forward the emancipation of the soul as their object, and I have no space to discuss them. They are however important as showing that realism has a place in Indian thought in spite of its marked tendency to idealism.[738] They are concerned chiefly with an examination of human faculties and the objects of knowledge, and are related to one another. The special doctrine of the Vaiśeshika is the theory of atoms ascribed to Kaṇâda. It teaches that matter consists of atoms (aṇu) which are eternal in themselves though all combinations of them are liable to decompose. The Sâṅkhya and Yoga are also related and represent two aspects of the same system which is of great antiquity and allied to Buddhism and Jainism. The two Mîmâṃsâs are consecutive expositions of the teaching scattered throughout the Vedic texts respecting ceremonial and the knowledge of God respectively. The second Mîmâṃsâ, commonly called the Vedânta, is by far the more interesting and important.
Six of the Darśanas stand out prominently and are often referred to as the six Orthodox Schools. They include Nyâya and Vaiśeshika, Sâṅkhya and Yoga, and Pûrva and Uttara Mîmâṃsâ, or Vedânta. The others are either less significant or more conveniently categorized as religious sects. The six schools on this select list are quite diverse, leaving one to wonder what criteria could have grouped them together. The first two have minimal connection to religion, even though they claim the liberation of the soul as their goal, and I don’t have space to delve into them. However, they are noteworthy because they demonstrate that realism holds a place in Indian thought, despite the prevailing inclination toward idealism. They primarily focus on examining human faculties and the objects of knowledge and are interconnected. The unique teaching of Vaiśeshika is the atomic theory attributed to Kaṇâda. It asserts that matter is made up of eternal atoms (aṇu), although their combinations can break down. Sâṅkhya and Yoga are also interconnected and represent two sides of the same ancient system, which is linked to Buddhism and Jainism. The two Mîmâṃsâs provide sequential explanations of teachings found in the Vedic texts regarding rituals and knowledge of God, respectively. The second Mîmâṃsâ, commonly known as Vedânta, is significantly more intriguing and important.
The common feature in these six systems which constitutes their orthodoxy is that they all admit the authority of the Veda. This implies more than our phrases revelation or inspiration of the Bible. Most of the Darśanas attach importance to the pramâṇas, sources or standards of knowledge. They are variously enumerated, but one of the oldest definitions makes them three: perception (pratyaksha), inference (anumâna) and scripture (śabda). The Veda is thus formally acknowledged to have the same authority as the evidence of the senses. With this is generally coupled the doctrine that it is eternal. It was not composed by human authors, but is a body of sound existing from eternity as part of Brahman and breathed out by him when he causes the whole creation to evolve at the beginning of a world period. The reputed authors are simply those who have, in Indian language, seen portions of this self-existent teaching. This doctrine sounds more reasonable if restated in the form that words are the expression of thought, and that if thought is the eternal essence of both Brahman and the soul, [293] a similar eternity may attach to words. Some such idea is the origin of the Christian doctrine of the Logos, and in many religions we find such notions as that words have a creative efficacy,[739] or that he who knows the name of a thing has power over it. Among Mohammedans the Koran is supposed to be not merely an inspired composition but a pre-existing book, revealed to Mohammed piecemeal.
The common characteristic of these six systems that defines their orthodoxy is that they all recognize the authority of the Veda. This means more than what we refer to as revelation or inspiration in the Bible. Most of the Darśanas emphasize the pramâṇas, which are sources or standards of knowledge. They are listed in various ways, but one of the earliest definitions identifies three: perception (pratyaksha), inference (anumâna), and scripture (śabda). Therefore, the Veda is officially acknowledged to hold the same authority as sensory evidence. Along with this is typically the belief that it is eternal. It wasn’t created by human authors; instead, it exists as a body of sound that has been around since eternity as part of Brahman, and it was expressed by him when he initiated the entire creation at the start of a cosmic cycle. The recognized authors are simply those who have, in the Indian tradition, glimpsed parts of this self-existing knowledge. This belief seems more reasonable if we rephrase it to say that words are expressions of thought, and if thought is the eternal essence of both Brahman and the soul, [293] then a similar eternity may also apply to words. A comparable idea forms the basis of the Christian doctrine of the Logos, and in many religions, we encounter concepts like the notion that words possess a creative power,[739] or that whoever knows the name of something has control over it. Among Muslims, the Koran is regarded not just as an inspired text but as a pre-existing book, revealed to Mohammed in parts.
It is curious that both the sacred texts—the Veda and the Koran—to which this supernatural position is ascribed should be collections of obviously human, incongruous, and often insignificant documents connected with particular occasions, and in no way suggesting or claiming that they are anterior to the ordinary life of man on earth. It is still more extraordinary that systems of philosophy should profess to base themselves on such works. But in reality Hindu metaphysicians are not more bound by the past than their colleagues in other lands. They do not take scripture and ask what it means, but evolve their own systems and state that they are in accordance with it. Sometimes scripture is ignored in the details of argument. More often the metaphysician writes a commentary on it and boldly proves that it supports his views, though its apparent meaning may be hostile. It is clear that many philosophic commentaries have been written not because the authors really drew their inspiration from the Upanishads or Bhagavad-gîtâ but because they dared not neglect such important texts. All the Vedântist schools labour to prove that they are in harmony not only with the Upanishads but with the Brahma-sûtras. The philosophers of the Sâṅkhya are more detached from literature but though they ignore the existence of the deity, they acknowledge the Veda as a source of knowledge. Their recognition, however, has the air of a concession to Brahmanic sentiment. Isolated theories of the Sâṅkhya can be supported by isolated passages of the Upanishads, but no impartial critic can maintain that the general doctrines of the two are compatible. That the Brahmans should have been willing to admit the Sâṅkhya as a possible form of orthodoxy is a testimony both to its importance and to their liberality.
It’s interesting that both of the sacred texts—the Veda and the Koran—associated with this supernatural stance are actually collections of evidently human, inconsistent, and often trivial documents tied to specific events, and they don’t suggest or claim to be older than regular human life on earth. What’s even more remarkable is that philosophical systems would claim to be based on such works. In reality, Hindu metaphysicians are not more tied to the past than their counterparts in other countries. They don’t take scripture and ask what it means; instead, they develop their own systems and assert that these align with scripture. Sometimes scripture is overlooked in detailed arguments. More often, the metaphysician writes commentary on it and confidently demonstrates that it supports their views, even if its apparent meaning might contradict them. It’s evident that many philosophical commentaries have been written not because the authors genuinely drew inspiration from the Upanishads or Bhagavad-gîtâ, but because they felt they couldn’t ignore such significant texts. All the Vedântist schools work to show that they are compatible not only with the Upanishads but also with the Brahma-sûtras. The philosophers of the Sâṅkhya are more independent of literature; though they disregard the existence of a deity, they still recognize the Veda as a source of knowledge. Their acknowledgment, however, seems more like a concession to Brahmanic sentiment. Isolated theories of the Sâṅkhya can be backed by isolated passages from the Upanishads, but no unbiased critic can argue that the general doctrines of the two are compatible. The fact that the Brahmans were willing to accept Sâṅkhya as a potential form of orthodoxy demonstrates both its significance and their open-mindedness.
It is remarkable that the test of orthodoxy should have been the acceptance of the authority of the Veda and not a confession of some sort of theism. But on this the Brahmans did not insist. The Vedânta is truly and intensely pantheistic or theistic, but in the other philosophies the Supreme Being is either eliminated or plays a small part. Thus while works which seem to be merely scientific treatises (like the Nyâya) set before themselves a religious object, other treatises, seemingly religious in scope, ignore the deity. There is a strong and ancient line of thought in India which, basing itself on the doctrine of Karma, or the inevitable consequences of the deed once done, lays stress on the efficacy of ceremonies or of asceticism or of knowledge without reference to a Supreme Being because, if he exists, he does not interfere with the workings of Karma, or with the power of knowledge to release from them.
It’s interesting that the measure of orthodoxy was the acceptance of the authority of the Veda rather than a declaration of some form of theism. However, the Brahmans did not emphasize this. The Vedânta is genuinely and deeply pantheistic or theistic, but in other philosophies, the Supreme Being is either disregarded or has a minimal role. So, while works that appear to be purely scientific studies (like the Nyâya) have a religious aim, other texts that seem religious overlook the deity. There is a strong and ancient line of thought in India that, based on the doctrine of Karma, stresses the importance of rituals, ascetic practices, or knowledge without considering a Supreme Being since, if he exists, he doesn’t interfere with the workings of Karma or with the ability of knowledge to free individuals from it.
Even the Vedânta, although in a way the quintessence of Indian orthodoxy, is not a scholastic philosophy designed to support recognized dogma and ritual. It is rather the orthodox method of soaring above these things. It contemplates from a higher level the life of religious observances (which is the subject of the Pûrva Mîmâṃsâ) and recognizes its value as a preliminary, but yet rejects it as inadequate. The Sannyâsi or adept follows no caste observances, performs no sacrifices, reads no scriptures. His religion is to realize in meditation the true nature, and it may be the identity, of the soul and God. Good works are of no more importance for him than rites, though he does well to employ his time in teaching. But Karma has ceased to exist for him: "the acts of a Yogi are neither black nor white," they have no moral quality nor consequences. This is dangerous language and the doctrine has sometimes been abused. But the point of the teaching is not that a Sannyâsi may do what he likes but that he is perfectly emancipated from material bondage. Most men are bound by their deeds; every new act brings consequences which attach the doer to the world of transmigration and create for him new existences. But the deeds of the man who is really free have no such trammelling effects, for they are not prompted by desire nor directed to an object. But since to become free he must have suppressed all desire, it is hardly conceivable that he should do anything which could be called a sin. But this conviction that the task of the sage [295] is not to perfect any form of good conduct but to rise above both good and evil, imparts to the Darśanas and even to the Upanishads a singularly non-ethical and detached tone. The Yogi does no harm but he has less benevolence and active sympathy than the Buddhist monk. It was a feeling that such an attitude has its dangers and is only for the few who have fought their way to the heights where it can safely be adopted, that led the Brahmans in all ages to lay stress on the householder's life as the proper preparation for a philosophic old age. Despite utterances to the contrary, they never as a body approved the ideal of a life entirely devoted to asceticism and not occupied with social duties during one period. The extraordinary ease with which the higher phases of Indian thought shake off all formalities, social, religious and ethical, was counterbalanced by the multitudinous regulations devised to keep the majority in a law-abiding life.
Even Vedanta, while it is essentially a core part of Indian orthodoxy, isn’t just a formal philosophy meant to support established beliefs and rituals. Instead, it embodies the orthodox way of transcending these aspects. It looks at the practices of religious observance (which is covered in Pûrva Mîmâṃsâ) from a higher perspective, acknowledging its importance as a starting point but ultimately rejecting it as insufficient. The Sannyâsi or adept doesn’t follow caste rules, doesn’t perform sacrifices, and doesn’t read scriptures. For him, the essence of religion is to realize in meditation the true nature, and possibly the unity, of the soul and God. Good deeds hold no more significance for him than rituals, although it’s beneficial for him to spend his time teaching. Karma no longer applies to him: “the acts of a Yogi are neither black nor white,” meaning they lack moral qualities or consequences. This can be a risky viewpoint and the doctrine has been misused at times. However, the essence of this teaching isn’t that a Sannyâsi can do whatever he wants, but that he is completely free from material constraints. Most people are tied to their actions; each new act creates consequences that bind them to the cycle of rebirth and lead to new existences. But the actions of someone who is truly free don’t have these restricting effects, as they aren't driven by desire or intended for a particular outcome. Since gaining freedom requires the complete suppression of desire, it’s difficult to imagine he would commit acts that could be labeled as sinful. This belief that the sage’s task is not to refine any form of moral conduct but to transcend both good and evil gives the Darśanas and even the Upanishads a notably non-ethical and detached tone. The Yogi doesn’t harm others but possesses less kindness and active compassion than a Buddhist monk. This perspective recognizes the potential risks associated with such an attitude—and understanding it should only be embraced by those who have ascended to the heights where it can be safely practiced—has led Brahmans throughout history to emphasize domestic life as the appropriate preparation for a thoughtful old age. Despite claims to the contrary, they never collectively endorsed the ideal of life completely dedicated to asceticism without engaging in social responsibilities during certain periods. The remarkable ease with which the higher aspects of Indian thought shed all formalities—social, religious, and ethical—was balanced by the numerous regulations put in place to maintain the majority in a lawful life.
None of the six Darśanas concern themselves with ethics. The more important deal with the transcendental progress of sages who have avowedly abandoned the life of works, and even those which treat of that lower life are occupied with ritual and logic rather than with anything which can be termed moral science. We must not infer that Indian literature is altogether unmoral. The doctrine of Karma is intensely ethical and ethical discussions are more prominent in the Epics than in Homer, besides being the subject of much gnomic and didactic poetry. But there is no mistaking the fact that the Hindu seeks for salvation by knowledge. He feels the power of deeds, but it is only the lower happiness which lies in doing good works and enjoying their fruits. The higher bliss consists in being entirely free from the bondage of deeds and Karma.
None of the six Darśanas focus on ethics. The more significant ones address the spiritual advancement of sages who have clearly given up a life of action, and even those that discuss that more basic life are focused on rituals and logic rather than anything that could be called moral science. However, we shouldn’t assume that Indian literature is entirely lacking in morality. The concept of Karma is deeply ethical, and ethical discussions are more pronounced in the Epics than in Homer, in addition to being the focus of much wise and instructional poetry. But it’s clear that Hindus seek salvation through knowledge. They understand the power of actions, but it’s just the lower happiness derived from doing good deeds and enjoying their results. The higher joy comes from being completely free from the bondage of actions and Karma.
All the Darśanas have as a common principle this idea of Karma with the attendant doctrines that rebirth is a consequence of action and that salvation is an escape from rebirth. They all treat more or less of the sources and standards of knowledge, and all recognize the Veda as one of them. There is not much more that can be said of them all in common, for the Vedânta ignores matter and the Sâṅkhya ignores God, but they all share a conviction which presents difficulties to Europeans. It is that the state in which the mind ceases to think discursively and is concentrated on itself is not only desirable but the summum bonum. [296]The European is inclined to say that such a state is distinguished from non-existence only by not being permanent. But the Hindu will have none of this. He holds that mind and thought are material though composed of the subtlest matter, and that when thought ceases, the immaterial soul (purusha or âtman) far from being practically non-existent is more truly existent than before and enjoys untroubled its own existence and its own nature.
All the Darśanas share the common principle of Karma, which includes the belief that rebirth results from our actions and that salvation means escaping from rebirth. They all discuss the sources and standards of knowledge, recognizing the Veda as one of them. There's not much else that they all have in common, as the Vedânta overlooks matter while the Sâṅkhya ignores God, but they all share a belief that can be challenging for Europeans to understand. This belief is that the state in which the mind stops thinking in a scattered way and becomes focused on itself is not only desirable but also the summum bonum. [296] Europeans might say that such a state differs from non-existence only in that it isn't permanent. However, Hindus reject this idea. They maintain that the mind and thought are material, even if made of the subtlest matter, and when thought stops, the immaterial soul (purusha or âtman) is not really non-existent but is, in fact, more genuinely existent than before, enjoying its own existence and nature without disturbance.
Of the three most important systems, the Sâṅkhya, Yoga and Vedânta, the first and last are on most points opposed: both are ancient, but perhaps the products of different intellectual centres. In one sense the Yoga may be described as a theistic modification of the Sâṅkhya: from another and perhaps juster point of view it appears rather as a very ancient science of asceticism and contemplation, susceptible of combination with various metaphysical theories.
Of the three most important systems, Sāṅkhya, Yoga, and Vedānta, the first and last are opposed on most points. Both are ancient, but they likely come from different intellectual centers. In one way, Yoga can be seen as a theistic version of Sāṅkhya; from another, perhaps more accurate perspective, it looks more like a very old science of asceticism and contemplation, which can be combined with various metaphysical theories.
2
We may consider first of all the Sâṅkhya.[740] Tradition ascribes its invention to Kapila, but he is a mere name unconnected with any date or other circumstance. It is probable that the principal ideas of the Sâṅkhya germinated several centuries before our era but we have no evidence whatever as to when they were first formulated in Sûtras. The name was current as the designation of a philosophical system fairly early[741] but the accepted text-books are all late. The most respected is the Sâṅkhya-pravacana,[742] attributed to Kapila but generally assigned by European critics to the fourteenth century A.D. Considerably more ancient, but still clearly a metrical epitome of a system already existing, is the Sâṅkhya-Kârikâ, a poem of seventy verses which was translated into Chinese about 560 A.D. and may be a few centuries older. Max Müller regarded the Tattva-samâsa, a short tract consisting chiefly of an enumeration [297] of topics, as the most ancient Sâṅkhya formulary, but the opinion of scholars as to its age is not unanimous. The name Sâṅkhya is best interpreted as signifying enumeration in allusion to the predilection of the school for numbered lists, a predilection equally noticeable in early Buddhism.
We can first look at the Sāṅkhya.[740] Tradition credits its creation to Kapila, but he is just a name with no specific date or context. It's likely that the main ideas of Sāṅkhya developed several centuries before our era, yet we have no evidence of when they were first laid out in Sūtras. The name was already being used for a philosophical system fairly early on[741] but the accepted textbooks are all from later periods. The most respected one is the Sāṅkhya-pravacana,[742] attributed to Kapila, but European critics generally date it to the fourteenth century A.D. Much older, but still clearly a poetic summary of an existing system, is the Sāṅkhya-Kārikā, a poem of seventy verses that was translated into Chinese around 560 A.D. and might be a few centuries older. Max Müller considered the Tattva-samāsa, a short text mainly listing topics, as the oldest Sāṅkhya material, but scholars do not agree on its age. The name Sāṅkhya is best understood as meaning enumeration, reflecting the school's tendency for numbered lists, a characteristic also evident in early Buddhism.
The object of the system set forth in these works is strictly practical. In the first words of the Sâṅkhya-pravacana, the complete cessation of suffering is the end of man, and the Sâṅkhya is devised to enable him to attain it. Another formula divides the contents of the Sâṅkhya into four topics—(a) that from which man must liberate himself, or suffering, (b) liberation, or the cessation of suffering, (c) the cause of suffering, or the failure to discriminate between the soul and matter, (d) the means of liberation, or discriminating knowledge. This division obviously resembles the four Truths of Buddhism. The object proposed is the same and the method analogous, though not identical, for Buddhism speaks as a religion and lays greater stress on conduct.
The aim of the system outlined in these works is strictly practical. In the opening lines of the Sâṅkhya-pravacana, it states that the ultimate goal for humans is to completely end suffering, and the Sâṅkhya is designed to help achieve this. Another way to break down the contents of the Sâṅkhya is into four topics—(a) what a person must free themselves from, or suffering, (b) liberation, or the end of suffering, (c) the cause of suffering, or the inability to distinguish between the soul and matter, and (d) the means of liberation, or the knowledge that enables this discrimination. This division clearly resembles the four Truths of Buddhism. The goal is similar, and the methods are comparable but not the same, as Buddhism is presented as a religion and emphasizes behavior more heavily.
The theory of the Sâṅkhya, briefly stated, is this. There exist, uncreated and from all eternity, on the one side matter and on the other individual souls. The world, as we know it, is due entirely to the evolution of matter. Suffering is the result of souls being in bondage to matter, but this bondage does not affect the nature of the soul and in one sense is not real, for when souls acquire discriminating knowledge and see that they are not matter, then the bondage ceases and they attain to eternal peace.
The theory of Sâṅkhya, in simple terms, is this: there are, uncreated and eternal, on one side matter and on the other, individual souls. The world as we know it exists because of the evolution of matter. Suffering comes from souls being trapped in matter, but this trap doesn’t change the essence of the soul and, in a way, isn’t real. When souls gain true understanding and realize they are not matter, the bondage ends, and they achieve eternal peace.
The system is thus founded on dualism, the eternal antithesis between matter and soul. Many of its details are comprised in the simple enumeration of the twenty-five Tattvas or principles[743] as given in the Tattva-samâsa and other works. Of these, one is Purusha, the soul or self, which is neither produced nor productive, and the other twenty-four are all modifications of Prakṛiti or matter, which is unproduced but productive. Prakṛiti means the original ground form of external existence (as distinguished from Vikṛiti, modified form). It is uncreated and indestructible, but it has a tendency to variation [298] or evolution. The Sâṅkhya holds in the strictest sense that ex nihilo nihil fit. Substance can only be produced from substance and properly speaking there is no such thing as origination but only manifestation. Causality is regarded solely from the point of view of material causes, that is to say the cause of a pot is clay and not the action of the potter. Thus the effect or product is nothing else than the cause in another shape: production is only manifestation and destruction is the resolution of a product into its cause. Instead of holding like the Buddhists that there is no such thing as existence but only becoming, the Sâṅkhya rather affirms that there is nothing but successive manifestations of real existence. If clay is made into a pot and the pot is then broken and ground into clay again, the essential fact is not that a pot has come into existence and disappeared but that the clay continuously existing has undergone certain changes.
The system is based on dualism, the eternal conflict between matter and soul. Many of its details are outlined in the straightforward list of the twenty-five Tattvas or principles[743] as presented in the Tattva-samâsa and other texts. One of these is Purusha, the soul or self, which is neither created nor creator, while the other twenty-four are all variations of Prakṛiti or matter, which is uncreated but can create. Prakṛiti refers to the original basic form of external existence (distinct from Vikṛiti, the altered form). It is uncreated and indestructible, but it tends to change [298] or evolve. The Sâṅkhya strictly believes that ex nihilo nihil fit. Substance can only come from substance, and technically, there is no true origination, only manifestation. Causality is viewed purely in terms of material causes, meaning the cause of a pot is clay, not the actions of the potter. Thus, the effect or product is simply the cause in a different form: production is just manifestation, and destruction is the return of a product to its cause. Instead of claiming, like the Buddhists, that existence is just becoming, the Sâṅkhya asserts that there are only successive manifestations of real existence. If clay is shaped into a pot and then the pot is broken down and turned back into clay, the key point is not that a pot has come into being and vanished, but that the clay, which has always existed, has gone through certain changes.
The tendency to evolution inherent in matter is due to the three guṇas. They are sattva, explained as goodness and happiness; rajas, as passion and movement; and tamas, as darkness, heaviness and ignorance. The word Guṇa is not easy to translate, for it seems to mean more than quality or mode and to signify the constituents of matter. Hence one cannot help feeling that the whole theory is an attempt to explain the unity and diversity of matter by a phrase, but all Hinduism is permeated by this phrase and theory. When the three guṇas are in equilibrium then matter—Prakṛiti—is quiescent, undifferentiated and unmanifested. But as soon as the equilibrium is disturbed and one of the guṇas becomes preponderant, then the process of differentiation and manifestation begins. The disturbance of equilibrium is due to the action of the individual Purushas or souls on Prakṛiti, but this action is mechanical and due to proximity not to the volition of the souls and may be compared to the attraction of a magnet for iron.[744] Thus at the beginning of the evolutionary process we have quiescent matter in equilibrium: over against this are souls innumerable, equally quiescent but exerting on matter a mechanical force. This upsets the equilibrium and creates a movement which takes at first the form of development and later of decay and collapse. Then matter returns to its quiescent state to be again excited by the Purushas and commence its world-making evolution anew. The [299] doctrine that evolution, dissolution and quiescence succeed one another periodically is an integral part of the Sâṅkhya.[745]
The tendency for matter to evolve comes from the three guṇas. They are sattva, which represents goodness and happiness; rajas, which signifies passion and movement; and tamas, which represents darkness, heaviness, and ignorance. The term Guṇa is hard to translate, as it seems to imply more than just quality or mode and represents the components of matter. Therefore, it feels like the whole theory tries to explain the unity and diversity of matter with one phrase, yet this concept and theory permeate all of Hinduism. When the three guṇas are balanced, matter—Prakṛiti—is calm, undifferentiated, and unmanifested. But once the balance is disturbed and one of the guṇas dominates, the process of differentiation and manifestation begins. The disturbance in balance is caused by the actions of individual Purushas or souls on Prakṛiti, but this action is mechanical and based on proximity rather than the will of the souls, similar to how a magnet attracts iron.[744] So, at the start of the evolutionary process, we have calm matter in equilibrium, with countless souls that are also calm but exerting a mechanical force on matter. This disturbance creates movement, initially appearing as development and later as decay and collapse. Matter then returns to its calm state to be stirred again by the Purushas, starting its process of world-making evolution all over. The [299] doctrine that evolution, dissolution, and calmness follow one another periodically is a key part of Sâṅkhya.[745]
The unmodified Prakṛiti stands first on the list of twenty-five principles. When evolution begins it produces first Buddhi or intellect, secondly Ahaṃkâra, which is perhaps best rendered by individuality, and next the five Tanmâtras or subtle elements. Buddhi, though meaning intellect, is used rather in the sense of ascertaining or perception. It is the faculty by which we distinguish objects and perceive what they are. It differs also from our conception of intellect in being, like Ahaṃkâra and all the subsequent developments of Prakṛiti, material, and must not be confused with the immaterial Purusha or soul. It is in fact the organ of thought, not in the sense of the brain or anything tangible, but a subtle substratum of all mental processes. But in what sense is it possible to say that this Buddhi exists apart from individuals, who have not come into being at this stage of cosmic evolution? This difficulty is not met by talking, as some commentators do, of cosmic as well as individual Buddhi, for even if all Prakṛiti is illuminated by Buddhi at this stage it is difficult to see what result can occur. To make the process of development coherent we must think of it not as a series of chronologically successive stages but rather as a logically connected series and an analysis of completely evolved beings, just as we might say that bones are covered with flesh and flesh with skin, without affirming that the bones have a separate and prior existence. Ahaṃkâra, which is, like Buddhi, strictly speaking a physical organ, means Ego-maker and denotes the sense of personality and individuality, almost the will. In the language of Indian philosophy it is the delusion or misconception which makes the soul imagine itself a personal agent and think, I see, I hear, I slay, I am slain, whereas the soul is really incapable of action and the acts are those of Prakṛiti.
The unmodified Prakṛiti is the first on the list of twenty-five principles. When evolution starts, it first produces Buddhi or intellect, then Ahaṃkâra, which is best understood as individuality, followed by the five Tanmâtras or subtle elements. Buddhi, while meaning intellect, is used more in the sense of understanding or perception. It's the ability we have to distinguish objects and recognize what they are. It also differs from our idea of intellect because, like Ahaṃkâra and all the other developments of Prakṛiti, it is material and shouldn’t be confused with the immaterial Purusha or soul. It's essentially the organ of thought, not in the sense of the brain or anything physical, but as a subtle foundation of all mental processes. But how can we say that this Buddhi exists apart from individuals, who haven’t come into existence at this stage of cosmic evolution? This issue isn’t resolved by talking, as some commentators do, about cosmic and individual Buddhi, because even if all Prakṛiti is illuminated by Buddhi at this stage, it’s hard to see what the outcome would be. To make the development process clear, we should view it not as a series of chronological stages but rather as a logically connected series and an analysis of fully evolved beings, just like saying that bones are covered with flesh and flesh with skin, without claiming that the bones exist separately and prior to that. Ahaṃkâra, which, like Buddhi, is strictly a physical organ, means Ego-maker and signifies the sense of personality and individuality, almost the will. In Indian philosophy, it refers to the illusion or misunderstanding that makes the soul believe it is a personal agent and think, I see, I hear, I slay, I am slain, when in reality, the soul cannot act, and the actions are those of Prakṛiti.
The five subtle elements are the essences of sound, touch, colour, savour and odour conceived as physical principles, imperceptible to ordinary beings, though gods and Yogis can perceive them. The name Tanmâtra which signifies that only indicates that they are concerned exclusively with one sense. [300] Thus whereas the gross elements, such as earth, appeal to more than one sense and can be seen, felt and smelt, the subtle element of sound is restricted to the sense of hearing. It exists in all things audible but has nothing to do with their tangibility or visibility. There remain sixteen further modifications to make up the full list of twenty-four. They are the five organs of sense,[746] the five organs of action,[747] Manas or mind, regarded as a sixth and central sense, and also as the seat of will, and the five gross elements—earth, water, light, air and ether. The Sâṅkhya distinguishes between the gross and the subtle body. The latter, called lingaśarîra, is defined in more than one way, but it is expressly stated in the Kârikâs[748] that it is composed of "Buddhi and the rest, down to the subtle elements." It practically corresponds to what we call the soul, though totally distinct from Purusha or soul in the Sâṅkhya sense. It constitutes the character and essential being of a person. It is the part which transmigrates from one gross body to another, and is responsible for the acts committed in each existence. Its union with a gross body constitutes birth, its departure death. Except in the case of those who attain emancipation, its existence and transmigration last for a whole world-period at the end of which come quiescence and equilibrium. In it are imprinted the Saṃskâras,[749] the predispositions which pass on from one existence to another and are latent in the new-born mind like seeds in a field.
The five subtle elements are the essences of sound, touch, color, flavor, and smell, seen as physical principles that ordinary beings can't perceive, though gods and yogis can. The term Tanmâtra, meaning that only, indicates that they relate solely to one sense. [300] While the gross elements, like earth, can be experienced through multiple senses (you can see, feel, and smell them), the subtle element of sound is limited to hearing. It exists in everything that can be heard but doesn't relate to how tangible or visible those things are. There are sixteen more modifications to complete the list of twenty-four. These include the five sense organs,[746] the five organs of action,[747] Manas or mind, viewed as a sixth and central sense, and also as the seat of will, along with the five gross elements—earth, water, light, air, and ether. The Sâṅkhya philosophy distinguishes between the gross and subtle body. The latter, known as lingaśarîra, is defined in various ways, but it is specifically stated in the Kârikâs[748] that it consists of "Buddhi and the rest, down to the subtle elements." It closely aligns with what we refer to as the soul, although it is completely different from Purusha or soul in the Sâṅkhya context. It represents the character and essential being of a person. It is the part that moves from one gross body to another and is accountable for the actions taken in each lifetime. Its joining with a gross body signifies birth, while its departure signifies death. Except for those who reach emancipation, its existence and journey last for an entire cosmic cycle, after which comes stillness and balance. It bears the Saṃskâras,[749] the predispositions that transition from one life to another, lying dormant in the new-born mind like seeds in a field.
By following the evolution of matter we have now accounted for intellect, individuality, the senses, the moral character, will, and a principle which survives death and transmigrates. It might therefore be supposed that we have exhaustively analysed the constitution of a human being. But that is not the view of the Sâṅkhya. The evolution of Buddhi, Ahaṃkâra, the subtle body and the gross body is a physical process and the result is also physical, though parts of it are of so fine a substance that ordinary senses cannot perceive them. This physical organism becomes a living being (which term includes gods and animals) when it is connected with a soul (purusha) and consciousness depends on this connection, for neither is matter when isolated conscious, nor is the soul, at least not in our sense of the word. [301] Though the soul is neither the life which ends at death (for that is the gross body) nor yet the life which passes from existence to existence (for that is the subtle body) yet it is the vitalizing element which renders life possible.
By tracking the development of matter, we've now included intellect, individuality, senses, moral character, will, and a principle that survives death and reincarnates. One might think we’ve completely analyzed what makes up a human being. However, that's not how the Sâṅkhya sees it. The evolution of Buddhi, Ahaṃkâra, the subtle body, and the physical body is a tangible process, and the outcome is also physical, even though some components are so fine that ordinary senses can’t detect them. This physical organism becomes a living being (which includes gods and animals) when it connects with a soul (purusha), and consciousness relies on this connection because neither isolated matter nor the soul, at least in our understanding, is conscious. [301] While the soul is not the life that ends with death (that's the gross body) nor the life that transitions from one existence to another (that's the subtle body), it is the essential element that makes life possible.
The Sâṅkhya like Jainism regards souls as innumerable and distinct from one another. The word Purusha must have originally referred to the manikin supposed to inhabit the body, and there is some reason to think that the earliest teachers of the Sâṅkhya held that it was infinitely small. But in the existing text-books it is described as infinitely large. It is immaterial and without beginning, end, parts, dimensions, or qualities, incapable of change, motion, or action. These definitions may be partly due to the influence of the Vedânta and, though we know little about the historical development of the Sâṅkhya, there are traces of a compromise between the old teaching of a soul held in bondage and struggling for release and later conceptions of a soul which, being infinite and passionless, hardly seems capable of submitting to bondage. Though the soul cannot be said to transmigrate, to act, or to suffer, still through consciousness it makes the suffering of the world felt and though in its essence it remains eternally unchanged and unaffected, yet it experiences the reflection of the suffering which goes on. Just as a crystal (to use the Indian simile) allows a red flower to be seen through it and remains unchanged, although it seems to become red, so does the soul remain unchanged by sorrow or joy, although the illusion that it suffers or rejoices may be present in the consciousness.
The Sāṅkhya, like Jainism, views souls as countless and distinct from one another. The term Purusha likely originally referred to the miniature figure believed to inhabit the body, and there’s some evidence suggesting that the earliest Sāṅkhya teachers thought it was infinitely small. However, in the current textbooks, it's described as infinitely large. It's immaterial and lacks a beginning, end, parts, dimensions, or qualities, and is incapable of change, motion, or action. These definitions might be partly influenced by Vedānta, and while we know little about the historical development of Sāṅkhya, there are hints of a compromise between the old belief in a soul bound and seeking liberation and later ideas of a soul that, being infinite and devoid of passion, barely seems capable of being bound. Although the soul cannot be said to transmigrate, act, or suffer, through consciousness, it becomes aware of the sufferings in the world. Even though, in its essence, it remains eternally unchanged and unaffected, it still senses the reflection of ongoing suffering. Just like a crystal (to use an Indian analogy) allows a red flower to be seen through it while remaining unchanged, even though it seems to turn red, the soul also remains unchanged by sorrow or joy, despite the illusion that it may suffer or rejoice being present in its consciousness.
The task of the soul is to free itself from illusion, and thus from bondage. For strictly speaking the bondage does not exist: it is caused by want of discrimination. Like the Vedânta, the Sâṅkhya regards all this troubled life as being, so far as the soul is concerned, mere illusion. But while the Vedânta bids the soul know its identity with Brahman, the Sâṅkhya bids it isolate itself and know that the acts and feelings which seem to be its own have really nothing to do with it. They are for the soul nothing but a spectacle or play originating in its connection with Prakṛiti, and it is actually said,[750] "Wherefore no soul is bound, or is liberated or transmigrates. It is Prakṛiti, which has many bodily forms, which is bound, liberated [302] and transmigrates." It is in Buddhi or intellect, which is a manifestation of Prakṛiti, that the knowledge of the difference between the soul and Prakṛiti must arise. Thus though the Sâṅkhya reposes on a fundamental dualism, it is not the dualism of good and evil. Soul and matter differ not because the first is good and the second bad, but because the first is unchangeable and the second constantly changing. Matter is often personified as a woman. Her motives are unselfish and she works for the liberation of the soul. "As a dancer after showing herself on the stage ceases to dance, so does Prakṛiti cease when she has made herself manifest to the soul." That is to say, when a soul once understands that it is distinct from the material world, that world ceases to exist for that particular soul, though of course the play continues for others. "Generous Prakṛiti, endowed with Guṇas, causes by manifold means without benefit to herself, the benefit of the soul, which is devoid of Guṇas and makes no return."[751] The condition of the liberated soul, corresponding to the mokska and nirvâṇa of other systems, is described as Kaivalya, that is, complete separation from the material world, but, as among Buddhists and Vedântists, he who has learnt the truth is liberated even before death, and can teach others. He goes on living, just as the wheel continues to revolve for some time after the potter has ceased to turn it. After death, complete liberation without the possibility of rebirth is attained. The Sâṅkhya manuals do not dwell further on the character of this liberation: we only know that the eternal soul is then completely isolated and aloof from all suffering and material things. Liberation is compared to profound sleep, the difference being that in dreamless sleep there is a seed, that is, the possibility of return to ordinary life, whereas when liberation is once attained there is no such return.
The goal of the soul is to free itself from illusion and, therefore, from bondage. In reality, bondage doesn’t truly exist; it’s caused by a lack of discernment. Like the Vedânta, Sāṅkhya views this troubled life as merely an illusion regarding the soul. However, while the Vedānta encourages the soul to realize its unity with Brahman, Sāṅkhya instructs it to separate itself and understand that the actions and feelings it perceives as its own are actually unrelated to it. For the soul, these are just a performance or a play that arises from its connection with Prakṛti, and it’s stated, "Therefore no soul is bound, nor is it liberated or reincarnated. It is Prakṛti, which takes on many physical forms, that is bound, liberated, and reincarnates." The understanding of the difference between the soul and Prakṛti must emerge in Buddhi or intellect, which is a manifestation of Prakṛti. Thus, while Sāṅkhya is based on a fundamental dualism, it’s not a dualism of good and evil. The soul and matter are not distinct because one is good and the other bad, but because the former is unchangeable while the latter is constantly changing. Matter is often personified as a woman. Her motives are selfless, and she works for the liberation of the soul. "Like a dancer who stops dancing after her performance, Prakṛti ceases when she has made herself known to the soul." This means that once a soul realizes it’s separate from the material world, that world ceases to exist for that specific soul, although the performance continues for others. "Generous Prakṛti, endowed with Guṇas, brings about the soul's benefit through various means without any gain for herself, while the soul, which is without Guṇas, offers nothing in return." The state of the liberated soul, which corresponds to the mokṣa and nirvāṇa of other traditions, is described as Kaivalya, complete separation from the material world. However, as with Buddhists and Vedāntists, someone who has learned the truth is liberated even before death and can teach others. They continue to live, just as a wheel keeps turning for a while after the potter has stopped spinning it. After death, complete liberation is achieved without the chance of rebirth. The Sāṅkhya texts don’t elaborate further on the nature of this liberation; we only know that the eternal soul is then completely isolated from all suffering and material things. Liberation is likened to deep sleep, with the key difference being that in dreamless sleep, there is a seed, meaning the potential to return to ordinary life, whereas, once liberation is achieved, there’s no such return.
Both in its account of the world process and in its scheme of salvation the Sâṅkhya ignores theism in the same way as did the Buddha. Indeed the text-books go beyond this and practically deny the existence of a personal supreme deity. We are told[752] that the existence of God cannot be proved, for whatever exists must be either bound or free and God can be neither. We cannot think of him as bound and yet he cannot be free like an emancipated soul, for freedom implies the absence of desire and hence [303] of the impulse to create. Similarly[753] the consequences of good and evil deeds are due to Karma and not to the government of God. Such a ruler is inconceivable, for if he governs the world according to the action of Karma his existence is superfluous, and if he is affected by selfish motives or desire, then he cannot be free. It is true that these passages speak of there being no proof of God's existence and hence commentators both Indian and European who shrink from atheism represent the Sâṅkhya as suspending judgment. But if a republican constitution duly describes the President and other authorities in whom the powers of government are vested, can we argue that it is not unmonarchical because it does not expressly say there is no king? In the Sâṅkhya there is no more place for a deity than for a king in a republican constitution. Moreover, the Sûtras endeavour to prove that the idea of God is inconceivable and self-contradictory and some commentaries speak plainly on this subject.[754] Thus the Sâṅkhya-tattva-kaumudi commenting on Kârikâ 57 argues that the world cannot have been created by God, whether we suppose him to have been impelled by selfishness or kindness. For if God is perfect he can have no need to create a world. And if his motive is kindness, is it reasonable to call into existence beings who while non-existent had no suffering, simply in order to show kindness in relieving them from suffering? A benevolent deity ought to create only happy creatures, not a mixed world like the one we see.[755]
Both in its view of the world process and its approach to salvation, Sāṅkhya ignores theism just like the Buddha did. In fact, the textbooks go further and almost deny the existence of a personal supreme deity. We are told[752] that God’s existence can’t be proven, because anything that exists must be either bound or free, and God can be neither. We can't think of him as bound, but he also can't be free like a liberated soul, since freedom means having no desires and therefore [303] no drive to create. Similarly[753] the outcomes of good and evil actions come from Karma, not from God’s governance. That kind of ruler doesn’t make sense; if he governs the world according to Karma, then his existence is unnecessary, and if he’s motivated by selfishness or desire, then he can’t be free. It is true that these passages claim there’s no proof of God’s existence, so commentators—both Indian and European—who shy away from atheism portray Sāṅkhya as withholding judgment. But if a republican constitution clearly outlines the President and other authorities who hold the powers of government, can we argue that it’s not unmonarchical just because it doesn’t explicitly state there’s no king? In Sāṅkhya, there’s no more room for a deity than there is for a king in a republican constitution. Moreover, the Sūtras try to prove that the concept of God is inconceivable and self-contradictory, and some commentaries address this issue directly.[754] For example, the Sāṅkhya-tattva-kaumudi, commenting on Kārika 57, argues that the world couldn't have been created by God, whether we assume he was driven by selfishness or kindness. If God is perfect, he wouldn’t have any need to create a world. And if his motivation is kindness, is it logical to bring into existence beings who didn’t suffer while they were non-existent, just so he can show kindness by relieving them from suffering? A benevolent deity should only create happy beings, not a mixed world like the one we see.[755]
Arguments like this were not condemned by the Brahmans so strongly as we should expect, but they did not like them and though they did not excommunicate the Sâṅkhya in the same way as Buddhism, they greatly preferred a theistic variety of it called Yoga.
Arguments like this weren't condemned by the Brahmans as strongly as we might expect, but they didn't like them. Although they didn't excommunicate the Sâṅkhya in the same way they did Buddhism, they significantly preferred a theistic version of it called Yoga.
The Yoga and Sâṅkhya are mentioned together in the Śvetâśvatara Upanishad,[756] and the Bhagavad-gîtâ[757] says that he sees truly who sees them as one. The difference lies in treatment [304] rather than in substance. Whereas the Sâṅkhya is mainly theoretical, the principal topic of the Yoga is the cultivation of that frame of mind which leads to emancipation and the methods and exercises proper to this end. Further, the Yoga recognizes a deity. This distinction may seem of capital importance but the god of the Yoga (called Îśvara or the Lord) is not its foundation and essence as Brahman is of the Vedânta.[758] Devotion to God is recognized as one among other methods for attaining emancipation and if this particular procedure, which is mentioned in relatively few passages, were omitted, the rest of the system would be unaffected. It is therefore probable that the theistic portions of the Yoga are an addition made under Brahmanic influence. But taking the existing Sûtras of the two philosophies, together with their commentaries, it may be said that the Yoga implies most of the Sâṅkhya theory and the Sâṅkhya most of the Yoga practice, for though it does not go into details it prescribes meditation which is to be perfected by regulating the breathing and by adopting certain postures. I have already spoken of the methods and discipline prescribed by the Yoga and need not dwell further on the topic now.
The Yoga and Sāṅkhya are mentioned together in the Śvetāśvatara Upanishad,[756] and the Bhagavad-gītā[757] states that someone truly sees who sees them as one. The difference is in approach rather than in essence. While Sāṅkhya is mostly theoretical, Yoga focuses on developing the mindset that leads to liberation, along with the methods and practices necessary for this goal. Additionally, Yoga recognizes a deity. This distinction may seem crucial, but the god of Yoga (called Īśvara or the Lord) is not its core foundation like Brahman is for Vedānta.[758] Devotion to God is acknowledged as one of various methods for achieving liberation, and if this specific approach, mentioned in relatively few sections, were removed, the overall system would remain intact. Thus, it's likely that theistic aspects of Yoga were added under Brahmanic influence. However, looking at the existing Sūtras of both philosophies along with their commentaries, it's fair to say that Yoga incorporates most of the Sāṅkhya theory, and Sāṅkhya includes much of Yoga practice, for while it doesn't delve into specifics, it advocates meditation that is enhanced by regulating breath and adopting certain postures. I've already covered the methods and disciplines set by Yoga, so there's no need to go into further detail on that topic now.
That Buddhism has some connection with the Sâṅkhya and Yoga has often been noticed.[759] Some of the ideas found in the Sâṅkhya and some of the practices prescribed by the Yoga are clearly anterior to Gotama and may have contributed to his mental development, but circumspection is necessary in the use of words like Yoga, Sâṅkhya and Vedânta. If we take them to mean the doctrinal systems contained in certain sûtras, they are clearly all later than Buddhism. But if we assume, as we may safely do, that the doctrine is much older than the manuals in which we now study it, we must also remember that when we leave the texts we are not justified in thinking of a system but merely of a line of thought. In this sense it is clear that many ideas of the Sâṅkhya appear among the Jains, but the Jains know nothing of the evolution of matter described by the Sâṅkhya manuals and think of the relation of the soul to matter [305] in a more materialistic way. The notion of the separate eternal soul was the object of the Buddha's persistent polemics and was apparently a popular doctrine when he began preaching. The ascetic and meditative exercises prescribed by the Yoga were also known before his time and the Piṭakas do not hide the fact that he received instruction from two Yogîs. But though he was acquainted with the theories and practices which grew into the Yoga and Sâṅkhya, he did not found his religion on them for he rejected the idea of a soul which has to be delivered and did not make salvation dependent on the attainment of trances. If there was in his time a systematic Sâṅkhya philosophy explaining the nature of suffering and the way of release, it is strange that the Piṭakas contain no criticism of it, for though to us who see these ancient sects in perspective the resemblance of Buddhism to the Sâṅkhya is clear, there can be little doubt that the Buddha would have regarded it as a most erroneous heresy, because it proposes to attain the same objects as his own teaching but by different methods.
That Buddhism is connected to Sāṅkhya and Yoga has often been pointed out.[759] Some concepts found in Sāṅkhya and some practices prescribed by Yoga clearly predate Gotama and may have influenced his thinking, but caution is needed when using terms like Yoga, Sāṅkhya, and Vedānta. If we interpret them as the doctrinal systems outlined in specific sûtras, they are clearly all later than Buddhism. However, if we assume, as seems reasonable, that the doctrines are much older than the texts we study now, we must also remember that when we move beyond the texts, we should not think of a system but rather of a stream of thought. In this regard, many Sāṅkhya ideas are evident among the Jains, but the Jains do not recognize the evolution of matter explained in the Sāṅkhya texts and have a more materialistic view of the relationship between the soul and matter [305]. The idea of a separate eternal soul was a target of the Buddha’s ongoing criticisms and was likely a popular belief when he started preaching. The ascetic and meditative practices outlined in Yoga were also known before his time, and the Piṭakas acknowledge that he learned from two Yogis. However, despite his familiarity with the theories and practices that developed into Yoga and Sāṅkhya, he did not base his religion on them because he rejected the notion of a soul that needed liberation and did not tie salvation to achieving trances. If there was a systematic Sāṅkhya philosophy at his time that explained the nature of suffering and the path to liberation, it’s odd that the Piṭakas provide no critique of it; for while we can see the similarities between Buddhism and Sāṅkhya with historical perspective, it is clear that the Buddha would have viewed it as a significant heresy, as it seeks to reach the same goals as his teachings but through different means.
Sâṅkhya ideas are not found in the oldest Upanishads, but they appear (though not in a connected form) in those of the second stratum, such as the Śvetâśvatara and Kaṭhâ. It therefore seems probable, though not proven, that the origin of these ideas is to be sought not in the early Brahmanic schools but in the intellectual atmosphere non-theistic, non-sacerdotal, but audaciously speculative which prevailed in the central and eastern part of northern India in the sixth century B.C. The Sâṅkhya recognizes no merit in sacrifices or indeed in good works of any kind, even as a preliminary discipline, and in many details is un-Brahmanic. Unlike the Vedânta Sûtras, it does not exclude Śûdras from higher studies, but states that there are eight classes of gods and five of animals but only one of men. A teacher must have himself attained emancipation, but there is no provision that he must be a Brahman. Perhaps the fables and parables which form the basis of the fourth book of the Sâṅkhya Sûtras point to some more popular form of instruction similar to the discourses of the Buddha. We may suppose that this ancient un-Brahmanic school took shape in several sects, especially Jainism and Buddhism, and used the Yoga discipline. But the value and efficacy of that discipline were admitted almost universally and several centuries later it was [306] formulated in the Sûtras which bear the name of Patañjali in a shape acceptable to Brahmans, not to Buddhists. If, as some scholars think, the Yoga sûtras are not earlier than 450 A.D.[760] it seems probable that it was Buddhism which stimulated the Brahmans to codify the principles and practice of Yoga, for the Yogâcâra school of Buddhism arose before the fifth century. The Sâṅkhya is perhaps a somewhat similar brahmanization of the purely speculative ideas which may have prevailed in Magadha and Kosala.[761] Though these districts were not strongholds of Brahmanism, yet it is clear from the Piṭakas that they contained a considerable Brahman population who must have been influenced by the ideas current around them but also must have wished to keep in touch with other Brahmans. The Sâṅkhya of our manuals represents such an attempt at conciliation. It is an elaboration in a different shape of some of the ideas out of which Buddhism sprung but in its later history it is connected with Brahmanism rather than Buddhism. When it is set forth in Sûtras in a succinct and isolated form, its divergence from ordinary Brahmanic thought is striking and in this form it does not seem to have ever been influential and now is professed by only a few Pandits, but, when combined in a literary and eclectic spirit with other ideas which may be incompatible with it in strict logic, it has been a mighty influence in Indian religion, orthodox as well as unorthodox. Such conceptions as Prakṛiti and the Guṇas colour most of the post-Vedic religious literature. Their working may be plainly traced in the Mahâbhârata, Manu and the Purâṇas,[762] and the Tantras identify with Prakṛiti the goddesses whose worship they teach. The unethical character of the Sâṅkhya enabled it to form the strangest alliances with aboriginal beliefs.
Sāṅkhya ideas aren't present in the oldest Upanishads, but they do show up (though not in a cohesive way) in those from the second layer, like the Śvetāśvatara and Kaṭha. It seems likely, though not confirmed, that the origins of these ideas lie not with the early Brahmanic schools but in the intellectually vibrant, non-theistic, and speculative environment that existed in central and eastern northern India during the sixth century B.C. The Sāṅkhya school doesn't believe in the value of sacrifices or good deeds of any sort, even as a preliminary practice, and differs from Brahmanic thought in many specifics. Unlike the Vedānta Sūtras, it doesn't exclude Śūdras from higher education; it mentions eight classes of gods, five classes of animals, and only one class of humans. A teacher must have achieved liberation themselves, but there's no requirement for them to be a Brahman. The fables and parables found in the fourth book of the Sāṅkhya Sūtras may indicate a more popular teaching method similar to the Buddha's teachings. We might assume that this ancient non-Brahmanic school evolved into various sects, especially Jainism and Buddhism, and incorporated Yoga practices. The value and effectiveness of this discipline were widely recognized, and several centuries later, it was outlined in the Sūtras attributed to Patañjali in a way acceptable to Brahmans but not to Buddhists. If, as some scholars suggest, the Yoga sūtras date no earlier than 450 A.D., it seems likely that Buddhism encouraged the Brahmans to formalize the principles and practices of Yoga since the Yogācāra school of Buddhism developed before the fifth century. Sāṅkhya may represent a form of Brahmanization of speculative ideas that likely existed in Magadha and Kosala. Although these regions weren't strongholds of Brahmanism, the Piṭakas indicate they had a significant Brahman population who would have been influenced by surrounding ideas while wanting to stay connected with other Brahmans. The Sāṅkhya presented in our manuals reflects this effort at reconciliation. It's a reworking of some ideas that contributed to the emergence of Buddhism, but as time went on, it became more aligned with Brahmanism than with Buddhism. When presented in Sūtras in a concise and standalone format, its departure from typical Brahmanic thought is notable, and in that form, it hasn't been widely influential and is now practiced by only a handful of Pandits. However, when blended with other ideas, some of which may not strictly align with it, it has exerted a significant impact on Indian religion, both orthodox and unorthodox. Concepts like Prakṛiti and the Guṇas permeate much of the post-Vedic religious literature. Their influence can be clearly seen in the Mahābhārata, Manu, and the Purāṇas, and the Tantras associate the goddesses they teach to worship with Prakṛiti. The non-ethical nature of Sāṅkhya allowed it to create unusual alliances with indigenous beliefs.
3
Unlike the Sâṅkhya, the Vedânta is seen in its most influential and perhaps most advantageous aspect when stated in its most abstract form. We need not enquire into its place of origin for it is clearly the final intellectual product of the schools which produced the Upanishads and the literature which preceded them, and though it may be difficult to say at what point we are justified in applying the name Vedânta to growing Brahmanic thought, the growth is continuous. The name means simply End of the Veda. In its ideas the Vedânta shows great breadth and freedom, yet it respects the prejudices and proprieties of Brahmanism. It teaches that God is all things, but interdicts this knowledge to the lower castes: it treats rites as a merely preliminary discipline, but it does not deny their value for certain states of life.
Unlike the Sāṅkhya, Vedānta is most powerful and perhaps most beneficial when expressed in its most abstract form. We don't need to investigate its origins because it's clearly the culmination of the schools that produced the Upanishads and the earlier literature. Although it's hard to pinpoint exactly when we can start calling it Vedānta as Brahmanic thought evolved, the development is continuous. The name simply means "the End of the Veda." Vedānta encompasses a wide range of ideas and a sense of freedom, yet it still honors the beliefs and customs of Brahmanism. It teaches that God is everything, but restricts this understanding from the lower castes; it considers rituals as just a preliminary practice, yet it acknowledges their importance for certain stages of life.
The Vedânta is the boldest and the most characteristic form of Indian thought. For Asia, and perhaps for the world at large, Buddhism is more important but on Indian soil it has been vanquished by the Vedânta, especially that form of it known as the Advaita. In all ages the main idea of this philosophy has been the same and may be summed up in the formula that the soul is God and that God is everything. If this formula is not completely accurate[763]—and a sentence which both translates and epitomizes alien metaphysics can hardly aspire to complete accuracy—the error lies in the fact to which I have called attention elsewhere that our words, God and soul, do not cover quite the same ground as the Indian words which they are used to translate.
The Vedânta represents the most daring and distinctive aspect of Indian thought. While Buddhism might hold more significance for Asia and possibly the entire world, in India, it has been overshadowed by the Vedânta, particularly its Advaita version. Throughout history, the core idea of this philosophy has remained consistent, summarized by the concept that the soul is God and that God is everything. While this statement might not be entirely precise[763]—and a phrase that both translates and summarizes foreign metaphysics can hardly claim full accuracy—the inaccuracy stems from the fact, which I have pointed out elsewhere, that the terms God and soul in our language do not fully correspond to the Indian words they are meant to translate.
Many scholars, both Indian and European, will demur to the high place here assigned to the Advaita philosophy. I am far from claiming that the doctrine of Śaṅkara is either primitive or unchallenged. Other forms of the Vedânta existed before him and became very strong after him. But so far as a synthesis of opinions which are divergent in details can be just, he gives a just synthesis and elaboration of the Upanishads. It is true that his teaching as to the higher and lower Brahman and as to Mâyâ has affinities to Mahayanist Buddhism, and that later sects were [308] repelled by the severe and impersonal character of his philosophy, but the doctrine of which he is the most thorough and eminent exponent, namely that God or spirit is the only reality and one with the human soul, asserts itself in almost all Hindu sects, even though their other doctrines may seem to contradict it.
Many scholars, both Indian and European, will argue against the high regard given to the Advaita philosophy here. I don't claim that Śaṅkara's doctrine is either primitive or without challenge. Other forms of Vedânta existed before him and gained significant strength after him. However, insofar as a fair synthesis of differing opinions can be made, he offers a valid synthesis and elaboration of the Upanishads. It is true that his teachings about higher and lower Brahman and about Mâyâ have similarities to Mahayanist Buddhism, and that later sects were [308] put off by the strict and impersonal nature of his philosophy, but the doctrine he most thoroughly and prominently represents—namely that God or spirit is the only reality and is one with the human soul—asserts itself in almost all Hindu sects, even if their other beliefs may seem to contradict it.
This line of thought is so persistent and has so many ramifications, that it is hard to say what is and what is not Vedânta. If we take literature as our best guide we may distinguish four points of importance marked by the Upanishads, the Brahma-Sûtras, Śaṅkara and Râmânuja.
This way of thinking is so persistent and has so many implications that it's difficult to define what is and isn't Vedānta. If we consider literature as our best reference, we can identify four key points highlighted by the Upanishads, the Brahma-Sūtras, Śaṅkara, and Rāmānuja.
I have said something elsewhere of the Upanishads. These works do not profess to form a systematic whole (though later Hinduism regards them as such) and when European scholars speak of them collectively, they generally mean the older members of the collection. These may justly be regarded as the ancestors of the Vedânta, inasmuch as the tone of thought prevalent in them is incipient Vedântism. It rejects dualism and regards the universe as a unity not as plurality, as something which has issued from Brahman or is pervaded by Brahman and in any case depends on Brahman for its significance and existence. Brahman is God in the pantheistic sense, totally disconnected with mythology and in most passages impersonal. The knowledge of Brahman is salvation: he who has it, goes to Brahman or becomes Brahman. More rarely we find statements of absolute identity such as "Being Brahman, he goes to Brahman."[764] But though the Upanishads say that the soul goes to or is Brahman, that the world comes from or is Brahman, that the soul is the whole universe and that a knowledge of these truths is the one thing of importance, these ideas are not combined into a system. They are simply the thoughts of the wise, not always agreeing in detail, and presented as independent utterances, each with its own value.
I have mentioned the Upanishads elsewhere. These texts don’t claim to be a cohesive whole (though later Hinduism views them that way), and when European scholars refer to them as a group, they usually mean the older texts in the collection. These can be rightly seen as the forerunners of Vedânta, since the mindset present in them is the early form of Vedântism. It dismisses dualism and sees the universe as a unity, not as a plurality; as something that has emerged from Brahman or is infused with Brahman, and in any case relies on Brahman for its meaning and existence. Brahman is God in a pantheistic sense, completely separate from mythology and mostly impersonal in many references. Knowing Brahman is considered salvation: whoever understands it goes to Brahman or becomes Brahman. Occasionally, we encounter statements of absolute identity, like "Being Brahman, he goes to Brahman."[764] However, even though the Upanishads state that the soul goes to or is Brahman, that the world comes from or is Brahman, and that the soul encompasses the entire universe, while emphasizing that understanding these truths is crucial, these concepts are not woven into a system. They are simply the thoughts of wise individuals, not always in agreement on details, and presented as standalone expressions, each holding its own significance.
One of the most important of these wise men is Yâjñavalkya,[765] the hero of the Bṛihad Âranyaka Upanishad and a great name, to whom are ascribed doctrines of which he probably never heard. The Upanishad represents him as developing and completing the views of Śâṇḍilya and Uddâlaka Âruṇi. The former taught[766] that the Âtman or Self within the heart, smaller than [309] a grain of mustard seed, is also greater than all worlds. The brief exposition of his doctrine which we possess starts from and emphasizes the human self. This self is Brahman. The doctrine of Uddâlaka[767] takes the other side of the equation: he starts with Brahman and then asserts that Brahman is the soul. But though he teaches that in the beginning there was one only without a second, yet he seems to regard the subsequent products of this Being as external to it and permeated by it. But to Yâjñavalkya is ascribed an important modification of these doctrines, namely, that the Âtman is unknowable and transcendental.[768] It is unknowable because since it is essentially the knowing subject it can be known only by itself: it can never become the object of knowledge and language is inadequate to describe it. All that can be said of it is neti, neti, that is no, no: it is not anything which we try to predicate of it. But he who knows that the individual soul is the Âtman, becomes Âtman; being it, he knows it and knows all the world: he perceives that in all the world there is no plurality. Here the later doctrine of Mâyâ is adumbrated, though not formulated. Any system which holds that in reality there is no plurality or, like some forms of Mahayanist Buddhism, that nothing really exists implies the operation of this Mâyâ or illusion which makes us see the world as it appears to us. It may be thought of as mere ignorance, as a failure to see the universe as it really is: but no doubt the later view of Mâyâ as a creative energy which fashions the world of phenomena is closely connected with the half-mythological conceptions found in the Pâncarâtra and Śaiva philosophy which regard this creative illusion as a female force—a goddess in fact—inseparably associated with the deity.
One of the most important of these wise men is Yâjñavalkya,[765] the hero of the Bṛihad Âranyaka Upanishad and a significant figure, to whom many doctrines are attributed that he probably never encountered. The Upanishad depicts him as expanding and refining the ideas of Śâṇḍilya and Uddâlaka Âruṇi. The former taught[766] that the Âtman or Self within the heart, smaller than [309] a mustard seed, is also greater than all worlds. The brief overview of his doctrine that we have starts with and highlights the human self. This self is Brahman. Uddâlaka's doctrine[767] takes the opposite approach: he begins with Brahman and then claims that Brahman is the soul. However, even though he teaches that initially there was only one without a second, he seems to view the subsequent manifestations of this Being as separate from it, yet infused with it. Yâjñavalkya is credited with an important adjustment to these teachings, stating that the Âtman is unknowable and transcendental.[768] It is unknowable because, being essentially the knowing subject, it can only be known by itself and can never be the object of knowledge—language fails to capture it. All that can be said about it is neti, neti, meaning no, no: it is not anything we might try to define it as. But the person who understands that the individual soul is the Âtman becomes Âtman; by being it, they know it and grasp all of reality: they realize that in the entire world, there is no plurality. Here, the later concept of Mâyâ is hinted at, although not fully developed. Any system that posits that in reality there is no plurality or, like some forms of Mahayanist Buddhism, that nothing truly exists, implies the presence of this Mâyâ or illusion that makes us perceive the world as it appears to us. It might be seen as simple ignorance, a failure to recognize the universe as it truly is: but undoubtedly, the later view of Mâyâ as a creative force that shapes the world of phenomena is closely tied to the semi-mythological ideas found in the Pâncarâtra and Śaiva philosophy, which consider this creative illusion as a feminine force—a goddess, in fact—inseparably linked to the divine.
The philosophy of the Upanishads, like all religious thought in India, is avowedly a quest of happiness and this happiness is found in some form of union with Brahman. He is perfect bliss, and whatever is distinct from him is full of suffering.[769] But this sense of the suffering inherent in existence is less marked in the older Upanishads and in the Vedânta than in Buddhism and the Sâṅkhya. Those systems make it their basis and first principle: in the Vedânta the temperament is the same [310] but the emphasis and direction of the thought are different. The Sâṅkhya looks at the world and says that salvation lies in escape into something which has nothing in common with it. But the Vedântist looks towards Brahman, and his pessimism is merely the feeling that everything which is not wholly and really Brahman is unsatisfactory. In the later developments of the system, pessimism almost disappears, for the existence of suffering is not the first Truth but an illusion: the soul, did it but know it, is Brahman and Brahman is bliss. So far as the Vedânta has any definite practical teaching, it does not wholly despise action. Action is indeed inferior to knowledge and when knowledge is once obtained works are useless accessories, but the four stages of a Brahman's career, including household life, are approved in the Vedânta Sûtras, though there is a disposition to say that he who has the necessary religious aptitudes can adopt the ascetic life at any time. The occupations of this ascetic life are meditation and absorption or samâdhi, the state in which the meditating soul becomes so completely blended with God on whom it meditates, that it has no consciousness of its separate existence.[770]
The philosophy of the Upanishads, like all religious thought in India, is clearly a search for happiness, which is found in some form of union with Brahman. He embodies perfect bliss, and anything separate from Him is filled with suffering.[769] However, this awareness of the suffering inherent in existence is less prominent in the older Upanishads and in Vedanta than it is in Buddhism and Sankhya. Those systems base their teachings around this idea: in Vedanta, the attitude is similar [310], but the focus and direction of thought differ. Sankhya examines the world and claims that salvation lies in escaping to something completely unrelated to it. In contrast, the Vedantist seeks Brahman, and his pessimism only reflects the belief that everything not fully and truly Brahman is unsatisfactory. In the later developments of the system, pessimism nearly vanishes, as the existence of suffering is seen not as the first Truth but rather as an illusion: the soul, if it were aware, is Brahman, and Brahman is bliss. As far as Vedanta has any clear practical teachings, it doesn't completely disregard action. Action is indeed seen as lesser than knowledge, and once knowledge is attained, actions become unnecessary accessories. Still, the four stages of a Brahman's life, including householder life, are recognized in the Vedanta Sutras, although it is suggested that someone with the right spiritual qualities can adopt the ascetic life at any time. The activities of this ascetic life include meditation and absorption or samadhi, the state where the meditative soul becomes so entirely united with the God it contemplates that it loses the awareness of its separate existence.[770]
As indicated above the so-called books of Śruti or Vedic literature are not consecutive treatises, but rather responsa prudentium, utterances respecting ritual and theology ascribed to poets, sacrificers and philosophers who were accepted as authorities. When these works came to be regarded as an orderly revelation, even orthodoxy could not shut its eyes to their divergences, and a comprehensive exegesis became necessary to give a conspectus of the whole body of truth. This investigation of the meaning of the Veda as a connected whole is called Mîmâṃsâ, and is divided into two branches, the earlier (pûrva) and the later (uttara). The first is represented by the Pûrva-mîmâṃsâ-sûtras of Jaimini[771] which are called earlier (pûrva) not in the chronological sense but because they deal with rites which come before knowledge, as a preparatory stage. It is interesting to find that Jaimini was accused of atheism and defended by Kumârila Bhaṭṭa. The defence is probably just, for Jaimini does [311] not so much deny God as ignore him. But what is truly extraordinary, though characteristic of much Indian literature about ritual, is that a work dealing with the general theory of religious worship should treat the deity as an irrelevant topic. The Pûrva-mîmâṃsâ discusses ceremonies prescribed by an eternal self-existing Veda. The reward of sacrifice is not given by God. When the result of an act does not appear at once, Jaimini teaches that there is all the same produced a supersensuous principle called apûrva, which bears fruit at a later time, and thus a sacrifice leads the offerer to heaven. This theory is really tantamount to placing magic on a philosophic basis.
As mentioned earlier, the so-called books of Śruti or Vedic literature are not sequential writings, but rather responsa prudentium, statements about ritual and theology attributed to poets, sacrificers, and philosophers who were recognized as authorities. When these works began to be seen as a systematic revelation, even orthodox thinkers couldn't ignore the variations in them, which made a thorough interpretation necessary to provide an overview of the entire body of truth. This study of the Veda's meaning as a cohesive whole is called Mîmâṃsâ and is divided into two branches: the earlier (pûrva) and the later (uttara). The first is represented by the Pûrva-mîmâṃsâ-sûtras of Jaimini[771], termed earlier (pûrva) not in a chronological sense but because they address rites that come before knowledge, as a preparatory stage. It's interesting to note that Jaimini was accused of atheism and defended by Kumârila Bhaṭṭa. This defense is probably valid since Jaimini does [311] not outright deny God, but rather ignores Him. However, what is truly remarkable, though typical of much Indian literature on ritual, is that a work addressing the general theory of religious worship treats the deity as an irrelevant subject. The Pûrva-mîmâṃsâ discusses ceremonies outlined by an eternal, self-existing Veda. The reward for sacrifice is not given by God. When the outcome of an act isn't immediately apparent, Jaimini teaches that there is still a non-sensory principle called apûrva, which yields results later on, thus leading the offerer to heaven. This theory essentially puts magic on a philosophical foundation.
Bâdarâyaṇa's sûtras, which represent the other branch of the Mîmâṃsâ, show a type of thought more advanced and profound than Jaimini's. They consist of 555 aphorisms—less than a fifth of Jaimini's voluminous work—and represent the outcome of considerable discussion posterior to the Upanishads, for they cite the opinions of seven other teachers and also refer to Bâdarâyaṇa himself by name. Hence they may be a compendium of his teaching made by his pupils. Their date is unknown but Śaṅkara evidently regards them as ancient and there were several commentators before him.[772] Like most sûtras these aphorisms are often obscure and are hardly intended to be more than a mnemotechnic summary of the doctrine, to be supplemented by oral instruction or a commentary. Hence it is difficult to define the teaching of Bâdarâyaṇa as distinguished from that of the Upanishads on the one hand, and that of his commentators on the other, or to say exactly what stage he marks in the development of thought, except that it is the stage of attempted synthesis.[773] He teaches that Brahman is the origin of the world and that with him should all knowledge, religion and effort be concerned. By meditation on him, the soul is released and somehow associated with him. But it is not clear that we have any warrant for finding in the sûtras (as does Śaṅkara) the distinction between the higher and lower Brahman, or the doctrine of the unreality of the world (Mâyâ) or the absolute identity of the individual soul with Brahman. We are [312] told that the state of the released soul is non-separation (avibhâga) from Brahman, but this is variously explained by the commentators according to their views. Though the sûtras are the acknowledged text-book of Vedântism, their utterances are in practice less important than subsequent explanations of them. As often happens in India, the comment has overgrown and superseded the text.
Bâdarâyaṇa's sutras, which represent the other side of the Mîmâṃsâ, demonstrate a type of thinking that is more advanced and insightful than Jaimini's. They consist of 555 aphorisms—less than a fifth of Jaimini's extensive work—and reflect a lot of discussion that took place after the Upanishads, as they reference the views of seven other teachers and even mention Bâdarâyaṇa by name. So, they might be a summary of his teachings created by his students. The exact date is unknown, but Śaṅkara clearly considers them ancient, and there were several commentators before him.[772] Like most sutras, these aphorisms are often vague and are really meant to be a memory aid for the doctrine, to be expanded upon through oral teaching or commentary. Therefore, it's challenging to clearly differentiate Bâdarâyaṇa’s teachings from those of the Upanishads on one hand and from his commentators on the other, or to pinpoint exactly what stage he represents in the evolution of thought, other than it being a time of attempted synthesis.[773] He teaches that Brahman is the source of the universe and that everything—knowledge, religion, and effort—should focus on him. Through meditation on him, the soul is liberated and somehow united with him. However, it's unclear whether we should find in the sutras (as Śaṅkara does) the distinction between higher and lower Brahman, or the idea that the world is unreal (Mâyâ), or the absolute identity of the individual soul with Brahman. We are [312] told that the state of the liberated soul means not being separate (avibhâga) from Brahman, but this is explained differently by commentators based on their beliefs. Although the sutras are the recognized foundational text of Vedântism, in practice, their statements are less significant than the explanations provided later. As is often the case in India, the commentary has overshadowed and replaced the text.
The most important of these commentators is Śankarâcarya.[774] Had he been a European philosopher anxious that his ideas should bear his name, or a reformer like the Buddha with little respect for antiquity, he would doubtless have taken his place in history as one of the most original teachers of Asia. But since his whole object was to revive the traditions of the past and suppress his originality by attempting to prove that his ideas are those of Bâdarâyaṇa and the Upanishads, the magnitude of his contribution to Indian thought is often under-rated. We need not suppose that he was the inventor of all the ideas in his works of which we find no previous expression. He doubtless (like the Buddha) summarized and stereotyped an existing mode of thought but his summary bears the unmistakeable mark of his own personality.
The most important of these commentators is Śankarâcarya.[774] If he had been a European philosopher eager for his ideas to be recognized under his own name, or a reformer like the Buddha who disregarded tradition, he would likely be remembered in history as one of the most original thinkers in Asia. However, since his main goal was to revive past traditions and downplay his originality by trying to show that his ideas are those of Bâdarâyaṇa and the Upanishads, the significance of his contribution to Indian thought is often overlooked. We shouldn't think he was the creator of all the concepts in his writings that hadn’t been expressed before. He likely (like the Buddha) summarized and standardized an existing way of thinking, but his summary clearly reflects his own unique perspective.
Śaṅkara's teaching is known as Advaita or absolute monism. Nothing exists except the one existence called Brahman or Paramâtman, the Highest Self. Brahman is pure being and thought (the two being regarded as identical), without qualities. Brahman is not intelligent but is intelligence itself. The human soul (jîva) is identical with the Highest Self, not merely as a part of it, but as being itself the whole universal indivisible Brahman. This must not be misunderstood as a blasphemous assertion that man is equal to God. The soul is identical with Brahman only in so far as it forgets its separate human existence, and all that we call self and individuality. A man who has any pride in himself is ipso facto differentiated from Brahman as much as is possible. Yet in the world in which we move we see not only differentiation and multiplicity but also a plurality of individual souls apparently distinct from one another and from Brahman. This appearance is due to the principle of Mâyâ which is associated with Brahman and is the cause of the phenomenal world. If Mâyâ is translated by illusion it must [313] be remembered that its meaning is not so much that the world and individual existences are illusory in the strict sense of the word, as phenomenal. The only true reality is self-conscious thought without an object. When the mind attains to that, it ceases to be human and individual: it is Brahman. But whenever it thinks of particular objects neither the thoughts nor the objects of the thoughts are real in the same sense. They are appearances, phenomena. This universe of phenomena includes not only all our emotions and all our perceptions of the external world, but also what might be supposed to be the deepest truths of religion, such as the personality of the Creator and the wanderings of the soul in the maze of transmigration. In the same sense that we suffer pain and pleasure, it is true that there is a personal God (Îśvara) who emits and reabsorbs the world at regular intervals, and that the soul is a limited existence passing from body to body. In this sense the soul, as in the Sâṅkhya philosophy, is surrounded by the upâdhis, certain limiting conditions or disguises, which form a permanent psychical equipment with which it remains invested in all its innumerable bodies. But though these doctrines may be true for those who are in the world, for those souls who are agents, enjoyers and sufferers, they cease to be true for the soul which takes the path of knowledge and sees its own identity with Brahman. It is by this means only that emancipation is attained, for good works bring a reward in kind, and hence inevitably lead to new embodiments, new creations of Mâyâ. And even in knowledge we must distinguish between the knowledge of the lower Brahman or personal Deity (Îśvara) and of the higher indescribable Brahman.[775] For the orthodox Hindu this [314] distinction is of great importance, for it enables him to reconcile passages in the scriptures which otherwise are contradictory. Worship and meditation which make Îśvara their object do not lead directly to emancipation. They lead to the heavenly world of Îśvara, in which the soul, though glorified, is still a separate individual existence. But for him who meditates on the Highest Brahman and knows that his true self is that Brahman, Mâyâ and its works cease to exist. When he dies nothing differentiates him from that Brahman who alone is bliss and no new individual existence arises.
Śaṅkara's teaching is called Advaita or absolute monism. Nothing exists except for the one existence known as Brahman or Paramâtman, the Highest Self. Brahman is pure being and thought (both are seen as the same), without qualities. Brahman is not intelligent but is intelligence itself. The human soul (jîva) is the same as the Highest Self, not just as a part of it, but as being the whole universal indivisible Brahman. This shouldn’t be misunderstood as a blasphemous claim that man is equal to God. The soul is identical with Brahman only to the extent that it forgets its separate human existence, along with everything we call self and individuality. A person who has any pride in themselves is, by definition, differentiated from Brahman as much as possible. Yet in the world we live in, we see not only differentiation and variety but also many individual souls that seem distinct from each other and from Brahman. This appearance comes from the principle of Mâyâ, which is linked to Brahman and is the cause of the phenomenal world. If Mâyâ is translated as illusion, it’s important to remember that its meaning is not so much that the world and individual existences are illusory in the strict sense, but rather phenomenal. The only true reality is self-conscious thought without an object. When the mind reaches that state, it stops being human and individual: it is Brahman. However, whenever it thinks about specific objects, neither the thoughts nor the objects of those thoughts are real in the same way. They are appearances, phenomena. This universe of phenomena includes not just all our emotions and perceptions of the external world, but also what we might believe to be the deepest truths of religion, such as the personality of the Creator and the soul's journey through the maze of transmigration. Just as we experience pain and pleasure, it is also true that there is a personal God (Îśvara) who creates and reabsorbs the world at regular intervals, and that the soul is a limited existence moving from body to body. In this sense, the soul, as described in the Sâṅkhya philosophy, is surrounded by the upâdhis, certain limiting conditions or disguises that make up a permanent psychical framework with which it remains engaged in all its countless bodies. But while these doctrines may be true for those in the world—those who act, enjoy, and suffer—they are no longer true for the soul that follows the path of knowledge and realizes its identity with Brahman. It is only by this path that emancipation is achieved, for good actions result in similar rewards and thus inevitably lead to new embodiments and new creations of Mâyâ. Moreover, even in knowledge, we must differentiate between the knowledge of the lower Brahman or personal Deity (Îśvara) and the higher indescribable Brahman. For the orthodox Hindu, this distinction is very important, as it allows them to reconcile passages in the scriptures that would otherwise contradict each other. Worship and meditation focused on Îśvara do not lead directly to emancipation. They lead to the heavenly realm of Îśvara, where the soul, although glorified, still remains a separate individual existence. However, for someone who meditates on the Highest Brahman and understands that their true self is that Brahman, Mâyâ and its creations cease to exist. When they die, nothing sets them apart from that Brahman, who alone is bliss, and no new individual existence emerges.
The crux of this doctrine is in the theory of Mâyâ. If Mâyâ appertains to Brahman, if it exists by his will, then why is it an evil, why is release to be desired? Ought not the individual souls to serve Brahman's purpose, and would not it be better served by living gladly in the phenomenal world than by passing beyond it? But such an idea has rarely satisfied Indian thinkers. If, on the other hand, Mâyâ is an evil or at least an imperfection, if it is like rust on a blade or dimness in a mirror, if, so to speak, the edges of Brahman are weak and break into fragments which are prevented by their own feebleness from realizing the unity of the whole, then the mind wonders uneasily if, in spite of all assurances to the contrary, this does not imply that Brahman is subject to some external law, to some even more mysterious Beyond. But Śaṅkara and the Brahma-sûtras will not tolerate such doubts. According to them, Brahman in making the world is not actuated by a motive in the ordinary sense, for that would imply human action and passion, but by a sportive impulse:[776] "We see in every-day life," says Śaṅkara, "that certain doings of princes, who have no desires left unfulfilled, have no reference to any extraneous purpose but proceed from mere sportfulness. We further see that the process of inhalation and exhalation is going on without reference to any extraneous purpose, merely following the law of its own nature. Analogously, the activity of the Lord also may be supposed to be mere sport, proceeding from his own nature without reference to any purpose."[777] This [315] is no worse than many other explanations of the scheme of things and the origin of evil but it is not really an explanation. It means that the Advaita is so engrossed in ecstatic contemplation of the omnipresent Brahman that it pays no attention to a mere by-product like the physical universe. How or why that universe with all its imperfections comes to exist, it does not explain.
The essence of this doctrine lies in the concept of Mâyâ. If Mâyâ is connected to Brahman, existing because of his will, then why is it considered evil? Why should we seek release from it? Shouldn't individual souls aim to fulfill Brahman's purpose, and wouldn't it be better to enjoy life in the material world rather than transcending it? This idea has seldom satisfied Indian philosophers. On the flip side, if Mâyâ is deemed evil or at least flawed, if it’s like rust on a blade or fog in a mirror, and if we think of Brahman's edges as frail, breaking into pieces that can’t recognize their unity, it raises an unsettling question: does this not suggest that Brahman is subject to some external law or a more mysterious reality? However, Śaṅkara and the Brahma-sûtras reject such doubts. They argue that when Brahman creates the world, he's not motivated by conventional desires, as that would imply human-like actions and emotions, but rather by a playful impulse: [776] "We see in everyday life," says Śaṅkara, "that certain actions of princes, who have no unmet desires, don’t relate to any outside purpose but arise from mere playfulness. We also observe that the process of breathing continues without regard to any external goal, simply following the law of its own nature. Similarly, the Lord’s activity might be seen as mere play, coming from his inherent nature without reference to any purpose."[777] This [315] explanation is no worse than many others regarding the nature of things and the origin of evil, but it doesn’t truly clarify anything. It suggests that Advaita is so captivated by the ecstatic contemplation of the all-encompassing Brahman that it overlooks a mere by-product like the physical universe. It fails to explain how or why this universe, with all its flaws, comes into being.
Yet the boldness and ample sweep of Śaṅkara's thought have in them something greater than logic,[778] something recalling the grandeur of plains and seas limited only by the horizon, nay rather those abysses of space wherein on clear nights worlds and suns innumerable are scattered like sparks by what he would call God's playfulness. European thought attains to these altitudes but cannot live in them for long: it demands and fancies for itself just what Śaṅkara will not grant, the motive of Brahman, the idea that he is working for some consummation, not that he was, is and will be eternally complete, unaffected by the drama of the universe and yet identical with souls that know him.
Yet the boldness and expansive nature of Śaṅkara's thought contains something greater than just logic,[778] something that evokes the vastness of plains and oceans, limited only by the horizon. It reminds us of the depths of space where, on clear nights, countless worlds and suns are scattered like sparks, a reflection of what he would call God's playfulness. European thought reaches these heights but can’t stay there for long: it seeks and imagines for itself what Śaṅkara will not provide, the purpose of Brahman, the idea that he is working toward some ultimate goal, rather than accepting that he has always been, is, and will always be complete, unaffected by the unfolding drama of the universe while still being identical with the souls that recognize him.
Even in India the austere and impersonal character of Śaṅkara's system provoked dissent: He was accused of being a Buddhist in disguise and the accusation raises an interesting question[779] in the history of Indian philosophy to which I have referred in a previous chapter. The affinity existing between the Mâdhyamika form of Buddhist metaphysics and the earlier Vedânta can hardly be disputed and the only question is which borrowed from the other. Such questions are exceedingly difficult to decide, for from time to time new ideas arose in India, permeated the common intellectual atmosphere, and were worked up by all sects into the forms that suited each best. In the present instance all that can be said is that certain ideas about the unreality of the world and about absolute and relative [316] truth appear in several treatises both Brahmanic and Buddhist, such as the works of Śaṅkara and Nâgârjuna and the Gauḍa-pâdakârikâs, and of these the works attributed to Nâgârjuna seem to be the oldest. It must also be remembered that according to Chinese accounts Bodhidharma preached at Nanking in 520 a doctrine very similar to the advaita of Śaṅkara though expressed in Buddhist phraseology.
Even in India, the strict and impersonal nature of Śaṅkara's system sparked disagreement. He was accused of being a Buddhist in disguise, which raises an interesting question[779] in the history of Indian philosophy that I mentioned in a previous chapter. The connection between the Mâdhyamika form of Buddhist metaphysics and earlier Vedânta is hard to deny, and the only question is which one influenced the other. These questions are incredibly challenging to resolve, as new ideas would emerge in India, spread through the intellectual community, and be adapted by different sects in ways that suited them best. In this case, all that can be said is that certain ideas regarding the unreality of the world and about absolute and relative [316] truth appear in various texts from both Brahmanic and Buddhist sources, such as the writings of Śaṅkara, Nâgârjuna, and the Gauḍa-pâdakârikâs, with the works attributed to Nâgārjuna likely being the oldest. It's also important to note that according to Chinese accounts, Bodhidharma preached at Nanking in 520 a doctrine very similar to the advaita of Śaṅkara, though framed in Buddhist terminology.
Of other forms of Vedântism, the best known is the system of Râmânuja generally called Viśishṭâdvaita.[780] It is an evidence of the position held by the Vedânta philosophy that religious leaders made a commentary on the Sûtras of Bâdarâyaṇa the vehicle of their most important views. Unlike Śaṅkara, Râmânuja is sectarian and identifies his supreme deity with Vishṇu or Nârâyaṇa, but this is little more than a matter of nomenclature. His interpretation is modern in the sense that it pursues the line of thought which leads up to the modern sects. But that line of thought has ancient roots. Râmânuja followed a commentator named Bodhâyaṇa who was anterior to Śaṅkara, and in the opinion of so competent a judge as Thibaut he gives the meaning of Bâdarâyaṇa in many points more exactly than his great rival. On the other hand his interpretation often strains the most important utterances of the Upanishads.
Of other forms of Vedânta, the most well-known is Râmânuja's system, usually called Viśishṭâdvaita.[780] This reflects the significance of Vedânta philosophy, as religious leaders created commentaries on Bâdarâyaṇa's Sûtras to express their key ideas. Unlike Śaṅkara, Râmânuja is sectarian and associates his supreme deity with Vishṇu or Nârâyaṇa, but this is mainly a matter of names. His interpretation is modern in that it follows a line of thought that connects to contemporary sects. However, this line of thought has ancient roots. Râmânuja was influenced by a commentator named Bodhâyaṇa, who predated Śaṅkara, and according to respected analyst Thibaut, Bodhâyaṇa often provides a more accurate interpretation of Bâdarâyaṇa than his prominent rival. On the other hand, Râmânuja's interpretation sometimes stretches the most critical teachings of the Upanishads.
Râmânuja admits no distinction between Brahman and Îśvara, but the distinction is abolished at the expense of abolishing the idea of the Higher Brahman, for his Brahman is practically the Îśvara of Śaṅkara. Brahman is not without attributes but possessed of all imaginable good attributes, and though nothing exists apart from him, like the antithesis of Purusha and Prakṛiti in the Sâṅkhya, yet the world is not as in Śaṅkara's system merely Mâyâ. Matter and souls (cit and acit) form the body of Brahman who both comprises and pervades [317] all things, which are merely modes of his existence.[781] He is the inner ruler (antaryâmin) who is in all elements and all human souls.[782] The texts which speak of Brahman as being one only without a second are explained as referring to the state of pralaya or absorption which occurs at the end of each Kalpa. At the conclusion of the period of pralaya he re-emits the world and individual souls by an act of volition and the souls begin the round of transmigration. Salvation or release from this round is obtained not by good works but by knowledge and meditation on the Lord assisted by his grace. The released soul is not identified with the Lord but enjoys near him a personal existence of eternal bliss and peace. This is more like European theism than the other doctrines which we have been considering. The difference is that God is not regarded as the creator of matter and souls. Matter and souls consist of his substance. But for all that he is a personal deity who can be loved and worshipped and whereas Śaṅkara was a religious philosopher, Râmânuja was rather a philosophic theologian and founder of a church. I have already spoken of his activity in this sphere.
Râmânuja doesn’t see a difference between Brahman and Îśvara, but this view eliminates the concept of a Higher Brahman, as his Brahman is essentially the Îśvara of Śaṅkara. Brahman isn’t without qualities; rather, he embodies all conceivable good qualities. While nothing exists outside of him, similar to the contrasting concepts of Purusha and Prakṛiti in the Sâṅkhya, the world isn’t just Mâyâ like in Śaṅkara's system. Matter and souls (cit and acit) form the body of Brahman, who both contains and permeates [317] everything, which are merely expressions of his existence.[781] He is the inner ruler (antaryâmin) present in all elements and all human souls.[782] The texts that describe Brahman as the one without a second are interpreted as referring to the state of pralaya or absorption that happens at the end of each Kalpa. After the pralaya period, he recreates the world and individual souls through an act of will, and the souls begin their cycle of rebirth. Liberation from this cycle isn’t achieved through good deeds but through knowledge and meditation on the Lord, aided by his grace. The liberated soul isn’t merged with the Lord but instead has a personal existence filled with eternal bliss and peace in his presence. This is more similar to European theism than the other doctrines we’ve discussed. The key difference is that God is not seen as the creator of matter and souls; rather, matter and souls are made of his substance. Nonetheless, he is a personal deity who can be loved and worshipped, and while Śaṅkara was a religious philosopher, Râmânuja was more of a philosophical theologian and founder of a church. I have already mentioned his work in this area.
4
The epics and Purâṇas contain philosophical discussions of considerable length which make little attempt at consistency. Yet the line of thought in them all is the same. The chief tenets of the theistic Sâṅkhya-Yoga are assumed: matter, soul and God are separate existences: the soul wishes to move towards God and away from matter. Yet when Indian writers glorify the deity they rarely abstain from identifying him with the universe. In the Bhagavad-gîtâ and other philosophical cantos of the Mahâbhârata the contradiction is usually left without an attempt at solution. Thus it is stated categorically[783] that the world consists of the perishable and imperishable, i.e., matter and soul, but that the supreme spirit is distinct from both. Yet in the same poem we pass from this antithesis to the monism which declares that the deity is all things and "the self seated in the heart of man." We have then attained the Vedantist point of view. Nearly all the modern sects, whether Śivaite or Vishnuite, admit the same contradiction into their teaching, for they reject both the atheism of the Sâṅkhya and the immaterialism of the Advaita (since it is impossible for a practical religion to deny the existence of either God or the world), while the irresistible tendency of Indian thought makes them describe their deity in pantheistic language. All strive to find some metaphysical or theological formula which will reconcile these discrepant ideas, and nearly all Vishnuites profess some special variety of the Vedânta called by such names as Viśishṭâdvaita, Dvaitâdvaita, Śuddhâdvaita and so on. They differ chiefly in their definition of the relation existing between the soul and God. Only the Mâdhvas entirely discard monism and profess duality (Dvaita) and even Madhva thought it necessary to write a commentary on the Brahma-sûtras to prove that they support his doctrine and the Śivaites too have a commentator, Nîlakanṭ̣ḥa, who interprets them in harmony with the Śaiva Siddhânta. There is also a modern commentary by Somanaradittyar which expounds this much twisted text agreeably to the doctrines of the Lingâyat sect.
The epics and Purāṇas include lengthy philosophical discussions that often lack consistency. However, they all follow the same line of thought. The basic beliefs of the theistic Sāṅkhya-Yoga are taken as given: matter, soul, and God are seen as separate entities; the soul aims to move towards God and away from matter. Yet, when Indian writers exalt the deity, they seldom refrain from equating Him with the universe. In the Bhagavad-gītā and other philosophical sections of the Mahābhārata, this contradiction is typically left unresolved. It is clearly stated[783] that the world comprises the perishable and the imperishable, meaning matter and soul, but the supreme spirit is different from both. Yet in the same text, we shift from this contrast to a monistic view that claims the deity encompasses everything and "the self seated in the heart of man." Here, we reach the Vedantist perspective. Almost all modern sects, whether Śivaite or Vishnuite, embrace this contradiction in their teachings, rejecting both the atheism of Sāṅkhya and the immaterialism of Advaita (as it's impractical for a religion to deny the existence of both God and the world), while the compelling nature of Indian thought leads them to describe their deity in pantheistic terms. All seek a philosophical or theological framework to reconcile these conflicting ideas, and nearly all Vishnuites adopt a specific variation of Vedānta known as Viśiṣṭādvaita, Dvaitādvaita, Śuddhādvaita, and others. They mainly differ in how they define the relationship between the soul and God. Only the Mādvas completely reject monism and advocate for duality (Dvaita), and even Madhva found it necessary to write a commentary on the Brahma-sūtras to assert that they support his teachings, while the Śivaites also have a commentator, Nīlakaṇṭha, who interprets them in accordance with the Śaiva Siddhānta. There's also a modern commentary by Somanaradittyar that explains this complex text in line with the teachings of the Lingāyat sect.
In most fundamental principles the Śivaite and Śâktist schools agree with the Viśishṭâdvaita but their nomenclature is different and their scope is theological rather than philosophical. In all of them are felt the two tendencies, one wishing to distinguish God, soul and matter and to adjust their relations for the purposes of practical religion, the other holding more or less that God is all or at least that all things come from God and return to him. But there is one difference between the schools of sectarian philosophy and the Advaita of Śaṅkara which goes to the root of the matter. Śaṅkara holds that the world and individual existences are due to illusion, ignorance and misconception: they vanish in the light of true knowledge. Other schools, while agreeing that in some sense God is all, yet hold that the universe is not an illusion or false presentment of him but a process of manifestation or of evolution starting from him.[784] It is not precisely evolution in the European sense, but rather [319] a rhythmic movement, of duration and extent inexpressible in figures, in which the Supreme Spirit alternately emits and reabsorbs the universe. As a rule the higher religious life aims at some form of union or close association with the deity, beyond the sphere of this process. In the evolutionary process the Vaishṇavas interpolate between the Supreme Spirit and the phenomenal world the phases of conditioned spirit known as Saṅkarshaṇa, etc.; in the same way the Śivaite schools increase the twenty-four tattvas of the Sânkhya to thirty-six.[785] The first of these tattvas or principles is Śiva, corresponding to the highest Brahman. The next phase is Sadâśiva in which differentiation commences owing to the movement of Śakti, the active or female principle. Śiva in this phase is thought of as having a body composed of mantras. Śakti, also known as Bindu or Śuddhamâyâ, is sometimes regarded as a separate tattva but more generally as inseparably united with Śiva. The third tattva is Îśvara, or Śiva in the form of a lord or personal deity, and the fourth is Śuddhavidyâ or true knowledge, explained as the principle of correlation between the experiencer and that which is experienced. It is only after these that we come to Mâyâ, meaning not so much illusion as the substratum in which Karma inheres or the protoplasm from which all things grow. Between Mâyâ and Purusha come five more tattvas, called envelopes. Their effect is to enclose and limit, thus turning the divine spirit into a human soul.
In most fundamental principles, the Śivaite and Śâktist schools agree with Viśishṭâdvaita, but they use different terms and focus more on theology than philosophy. All of them reflect two tendencies: one aims to distinguish God, soul, and matter and define their relationships for practical religion, while the other generally believes that God encompasses everything or that everything originates from and returns to God. However, a key difference exists between the sectarian philosophy schools and Śaṅkara's Advaita, which gets to the core of the matter. Śaṅkara believes that the world and individual existences result from illusion, ignorance, and misunderstanding; they disappear in the light of true knowledge. Other schools, while agreeing that in some sense God is all, maintain that the universe isn't an illusion or a false representation of Him but rather a process of manifestation or evolution originating from Him.[784] It's not exactly evolution in the European sense but more like [319] a rhythmic movement, with duration and extent that can't be expressed in numbers, where the Supreme Spirit alternately releases and absorbs the universe. Generally, a higher religious life seeks some form of union or close connection with the deity, beyond this process. In the evolutionary process, the Vaishṇavas insert the phases of conditioned spirit, known as Saṅkarshaṇa, between the Supreme Spirit and the phenomenal world; similarly, the Śivaite schools expand the twenty-four tattvas of Sânkhya to thirty-six.[785] The first of these tattvas or principles is Śiva, which corresponds to the highest Brahman. The next phase is Sadâśiva, where differentiation begins due to the movement of Śakti, the active or feminine principle. In this phase, Śiva is thought of as having a body made of mantras. Śakti, also referred to as Bindu or Śuddhamâyâ, is sometimes seen as a separate tattva but is more often considered inseparably united with Śiva. The third tattva is Îśvara, or Śiva as a lord or personal deity, and the fourth is Śuddhavidyâ or true knowledge, described as the principle of correlation between the experiencer and what is experienced. It's only after these that we reach Mâyâ, which signifies not so much illusion as the foundation where Karma resides or the protoplasm from which all things emerge. Between Mâyâ and Purusha lie five more tattvas, called envelopes. Their effect is to enclose and limit, transforming the divine spirit into a human soul.
Śâktist accounts of the evolutionary process give greater prominence to the part played by Śakti and are usually metaphysiological, if the word may be pardoned, inasmuch as they regard the cosmic process as the growth of an embryo, an idea which is as old as the Vedas.[786] It is impossible to describe even in outline these manifold cosmologies but they generally speak of Śakti, who in one sense is identical with Śiva and merely his active form but in another sense is identified with Prakṛiti, coming into contact with the form of Śiva called Prakâśa or light and then solidifying into a drop (Bindu) or germ which divides. At some point in this process arise Nâda or sound, and [320] Śabda-brahman, the sound-Brahman, which manifests itself in various energies and assumes in the human body the form of the mysterious coiled force called Kuṇḍalinî.[787] Some of the older Vishnuite writings use similar language of Śakti, under the name of Lakshmî, but in the Viśishṭâdvaita of Râmânuja and subsequent teachers there is little disposition to dwell on any feminine energy in discussing the process of evolution.
Śâktist accounts of the evolutionary process highlight the role of Śakti and are often metaphysical, as they view the cosmic process as the development of an embryo, a concept that dates back to the Vedas.[786] It’s impossible to outline these diverse cosmologies, but they generally refer to Śakti, who is in one sense identical to Śiva and simply his active form, while in another sense is identified with Prakṛiti, interacting with the form of Śiva known as Prakâśa or light, and then solidifying into a drop (Bindu) or germ that divides. At some point in this process, Nâda or sound emerges, along with [320] Śabda-brahman, the sound-Brahman, which manifests in various energies and takes the form of the mysterious coiled force in the human body called Kuṇḍalinî.[787] Some older Vishnuite texts use similar terminology for Śakti, referring to her as Lakshmî, but in the Viśishṭâdvaita of Râmânuja and later teachers, there is little tendency to focus on any feminine energy when discussing the evolution process.
Of all the Darśanas the most extraordinary is that called Raseśvara or the mercurial system.[788] According to it quicksilver, if eaten or otherwise applied, not only preserves the body from decay but delivers from transmigration the soul which inhabits this glorified body. Quicksilver is even asserted to be identical with the supreme self. This curious Darśana is represented as revealed by Śiva to Śakti and it is only an extreme example of the tantric doctrine that spiritual results can be obtained by physical means. The practice of taking mercury to secure health and long life must have been prevalent in medieval India for it is mentioned by both Marco Polo and Bernier.[789]
Of all the philosophies, the most remarkable is the one called Raseśvara, or the mercurial system.[788] According to this system, mercury, whether ingested or applied in some way, not only prevents the body from decaying but also frees the soul within this exalted body from the cycle of rebirth. It's even claimed that mercury is the same as the ultimate self. This intriguing philosophy is said to be revealed by Śiva to Śakti, representing an extreme example of the tantric belief that spiritual outcomes can be achieved through physical means. The practice of using mercury for maintaining health and prolonging life seems to have been common in medieval India, as noted by both Marco Polo and Bernier.[789]
5
A people among whom the Vedânta could obtain a large following must have been prone to think little of the things which we see compared with the unseen of which they are the manifestation. It is, therefore, not surprising if materialism met with small sympathy or success among them. In India the extravagances of asceticism and of mystic sensualism alike find devotees, but the simple philosophy of Let us eat and drink for to-morrow we die, does not commend itself. Nevertheless it is not wholly absent and was known as the doctrine of Brihaspati. Those who professed it were also called Cârvâkas and Lokâyatikas.[790] Brihaspati was the preceptor of the gods and his [321] connection with this sensualistic philosophy goes back to a legend found in the Upanishads[791] that he taught the demons false knowledge whose "reward lasts only as long as the pleasure lasts" in order to compass their destruction. This is similar to the legend found in the Purâṇas that Vishṇu became incarnate as Buddha in order to lead astray the Daityas. But though such words as Ćârvâka and Nâstika are used in later literature as terms of learned abuse, the former seems to denote a definite school, although we cannot connect its history with dates, places or personalities. The Cârvâkas are the first system examined in the Sarva-darśana-saṅgraha, which is written from the Vedântist standpoint, and beginning from the worst systems of philosophy ascends to those which are relatively correct. This account contains most of what we know about their doctrines,[792] but is obviously biassed: it represents them as cynical voluptuaries holding that the only end of man is sensual enjoyment. We are told that they admitted only one source of knowledge, namely perception, and four elements, earth, water, fire and air, and that they held the soul to be identical with the body. Such a phrase as my body they considered to be metaphorical, as apart from the body there was no ego who owned it. The soul was supposed to be a physical product of the four elements, just as sugar combined with a ferment and other ingredients produces an intoxicating liquor. Among verses described as "said by Brihaspati" occur the following remarkable lines:
A group of people who could embrace the Vedânta philosophy must have had a tendency to regard the visible world as less significant compared to the unseen forces manifesting through it. Therefore, it’s not surprising that materialism received little support or success among them. In India, both the extreme practices of asceticism and the mystical indulgence find followers, but the straightforward philosophy of "Let's eat and drink, for tomorrow we die" does not appeal to them. Still, it's not entirely absent and is known as the doctrine of Brihaspati. Those who believed in it were also called Cârvâkas and Lokâyatikas.[790] Brihaspati was the teacher of the gods, and his connection to this hedonistic philosophy traces back to a legend in the Upanishads[791] that he misled the demons with false knowledge that "only lasts as long as the pleasure lasts" to bring about their downfall. This is similar to a legend in the Purâṇas which states that Vishṇu incarnated as Buddha to lead the Daityas astray. However, even though terms like Ćârvâka and Nâstika are used in later literature as derogatory labels, the former seems to refer to a distinct philosophical school, even though we can't link its history to specific dates, locations, or individuals. The Cârvâkas are the first system discussed in the Sarva-darśana-saṅgraha, which is written from the Vedântist perspective, starting with the least valid philosophical systems and progressing to those considered relatively accurate. This account contains most of what we know about their teachings,[792] but it is clearly biased: it portrays them as cynical pleasure-seekers who believe that the ultimate goal of humanity is sensory enjoyment. We learn that they recognized only one source of knowledge, which is perception, and accepted four elements: earth, water, fire, and air, asserting that the soul is identical to the body. They regarded expressions like my body as metaphorical because, apart from the body, there is no self that claims ownership. The soul was thought to be a physical result of the four elements, just like sugar mixed with a ferment and other ingredients creates an intoxicating drink. Among verses attributed to "Brihaspati," we find these notable lines:
The actions of the âśramas or castes don’t lead to any rewards. If the animal killed in the Jyotishtoma sacrifice goes to heaven,
Why doesn’t the person making the sacrifice kill his own father? As long as life goes on, a man should live happily: he should enjoy butter even if he goes into debt.
"When the body turns to ashes, how can it ever come back?"
The author of the Dabistân, who lived in the seventeenth century, also mentions the Cârvâkas in somewhat similar terms.[793]
The author of the Dabistân, who lived in the seventeenth century, also talks about the Cârvâkas in pretty much the same way.[793]
Brahmanical authors often couple the Cârvâkas and Buddhists. This lumping together of offensively heretical sects may [322] be merely theological animus, but still it is possible that there may be a connection between the Cârvâkas and the extreme forms of Mahayanist nihilism. Schrader[794] in analysing a singular work, called the Svasaṃvedyopanishad, says it is "inspired by the Mahayanist doctrine of vacuity (śûnya-vâda) and proclaims a most radical agnosticism by asserting in four chapters (a) that there is no reincarnation (existence being bubble-like), no God, no world: that all traditional literature (Śruti and Sṃriti) is the work of conceited fools; (b) that Time the destroyer and Nature the originator are the rulers of all existence and not good and bad deeds, and that there is neither hell nor heaven; (c) that people deluded by flowery speech cling to gods, sacred places, teachers, though there is in reality no difference at all between Vishṇu and a dog; (d) that though all words are untrue and all ideas mere illusions, yet liberation is possible by a thorough realization of Bhâvâdvaita." But for this rather sudden concession to Hindu sentiment, namely that deliverance is possible, this doctrine resembles the tenets attributed to the Cârvâkas.
Brahmanical authors often group the Cârvâkas and Buddhists together. This combination of obviously heretical sects may [322] stem from theological bias, but it's also possible that there is a link between the Cârvâkas and the extreme forms of Mahayanist nihilism. Schrader[794] in analyzing a specific work called the Svasaṃvedyopanishad, states that it is "inspired by the Mahayanist doctrine of emptiness (śûnya-vâda) and expresses a very radical agnosticism by asserting in four chapters (a) that there is no reincarnation (existence being bubble-like), no God, no world: that all traditional literature (Śruti and Sṃriti) is the creation of arrogant fools; (b) that Time, the destroyer, and Nature, the originator, are the rulers of all existence, not good and bad actions, and that there is neither hell nor heaven; (c) that people, misled by persuasive words, cling to gods, holy places, and teachers, while in reality there is no difference between Vishṇu and a dog; (d) that although all words are untrue and all ideas mere illusions, liberation is possible through a complete realization of Bhâvâdvaita." However, aside from this somewhat unexpected concession to Hindu sentiment, namely that deliverance is possible, this doctrine closely resembles the beliefs attributed to the Cârvâkas.
FOOTNOTES:
[737] J.C. Chatterji's definition of Indian philosophy (in his Indian Realism, p. 1) is interesting. "By Hindu philosophy I mean that branch of the ancient learning of the Hindus which demonstrates by reasoning propositions with regard to (a) what a man ought to do in order to gain true happiness ... or (b) what he ought to realize by direct experience in order to be radically and absolutely freed from suffering and to be absolutely independent, such propositions being already given and lines of reasoning in their support being established by duly qualified authorities."
[737] J.C. Chatterji's definition of Indian philosophy (in his Indian Realism, p. 1) is intriguing. "By Hindu philosophy, I refer to that part of the ancient knowledge of the Hindus that explains through reasoning ideas about (a) what a person should do to achieve true happiness ... or (b) what they should understand through direct experience to be completely and fully free from suffering and to be entirely independent, these ideas being established and argued by properly qualified experts."
[738] See Chatterji's work above cited.
[739] It is this idea which disposes educated Hindus to believe in the magical or sacramental power of mystic syllables and letters, though the use of such spells seems to Europeans incredible folly.
[739] This idea leads educated Hindus to have faith in the magical or sacred power of mystical sounds and letters, even though Europeans often see the use of such spells as complete nonsense.
[740] See especially Garbe, Die Sâṅkhya Philosophie, 1894; and Keith, The Sâṅkhya System, 1919, which however reached me too late for me to make any use of it.
[740] Check out Garbe, Die Sâṅkhya Philosophie, 1894; and Keith, The Sâṅkhya System, 1919, which I unfortunately received too late to utilize.
[741] E.g. in the Bhagavad-gîtâ and Śvetâśvatara Upanishads. According to tradition Kapila taught Asuri and he, Pañcaśikha, who made the system celebrated. Garbe thinks Pañcaśikha may be assigned to the first century A.D.
[741] For example, in the Bhagavad-gîtâ and Śvetâśvatara Upanishads. According to tradition, Kapila taught Asuri, who then taught Pañcaśikha, making the system well-known. Garbe believes Pañcaśikha can be dated to the first century A.D.
[743] Or topics. It is difficult to find any one English word which covers the twenty-five tattvas, for they include both general and special ideas, mind and matter on the one hand; special organs on the other.
[743] Or topics. It’s hard to find a single English word that encompasses the twenty-five tattvas, since they include both broad and specific concepts, as well as mind and matter on one side, and specific organs on the other.
[744] Sâṅkh. Pravac. I. 96.
[745] Garbe, Die Sâṅkhya Philosophie, p. 222. He considers that it spread thence to other schools. This involves the assumption that the Sâṅkhya is prior to Buddhism and Jainism.
[745] Garbe, Die Sâṅkhya Philosophie, p. 222. He believes it spread from there to other schools. This suggests that Sâṅkhya came before Buddhism and Jainism.
[748] Verse 40.
[749] Cf. the Buddhist Sankhâras.
Cf. the Buddhist Sankhâras.
[750] Sâṅkh. Kâr. 62.
[751] Sâṅkh. Kâr. 59-61.
[752] Sâṅkh. Pravac. I. 92-95.
[753] Sâṅkh. Pravac. V. 2-12.
[754] Thus Sâṅkh. Pravac. V. 46, says Tatkartuḥ purushasyâbhâvât and the commentary explains Îśvara-pratishedhâd iti śeshah "supply the words, because we deny that there is a supreme God."
[754] Thus Sâṅkh. Pravac. V. 46, states that since there is no supreme being, and the commentary clarifies that we use the phrase "because we reject the concept of a supreme God."
[755] Nevertheless the commentator Vijñâna-Bhikshu (c. 1500) tries to explain away this atheism and to reconcile the Sâṅkhya with the Vedânta. See Garbe's preface to his edition of the Sâṅkhya-pravacana-bhâshya.
[755] Nevertheless, the commentator Vijñâna-Bhikshu (around 1500) attempts to justify this atheism and to find common ground between Sāṅkhya and Vedānta. See Garbe's preface to his edition of the Sāṅkhya-pravacana-bhāṣya.
[756] VI. 13.
[757] V. 5.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ V. 5.
[759] It is a singular fact that both the Sâṅkhya-kârikâ-bhâshya and a treatise on the Vaiśeshika philosophy are included in the Chinese Tripitaka (Nanjio, Cat. Nos. 1300 and 1295). A warning is however added that they are not "the law of the Buddha."
[759] It's interesting to note that both the Sâṅkhya-kârikâ-bhâshya and a work on the Vaiśeshika philosophy are part of the Chinese Tripitaka (Nanjio, Cat. Nos. 1300 and 1295). However, there's a caution mentioned that they are not "the law of the Buddha."
[760] See Jacobi, J.A.O.S. Dec. 1910, p. 24. But if Vasubandhu lived about 280-360, as is now generally believed, allusions to the Yogâcâra school in the Yoga sûtras do not oblige us to place the sûtras much later than 300 A.D. since the Yogâcâra was founded by Asanga, the brother of Vasubandhu.
[760] See Jacobi, J.A.O.S. Dec. 1910, p. 24. But if Vasubandhu lived around 280-360, as is generally accepted now, references to the Yogâcâra school in the Yoga sûtras don't require us to date the sûtras much later than 300 A.D. because the Yogâcâra was established by Asanga, who was Vasubandhu's brother.
[762] See e.g. Vishṇu Purâṇa, I. chaps. 2, 4, 5. The Bhagavad-gîtâ, though almost the New Testament of Vedantists, uses the words Sâṅkhya and Yoga in several passages as meaning speculative truth and the religious life and is concerned to show that they are the same. See II. 39; III. 3; V. 4, 5.
[762] See e.g. Vishṇu Purâṇa, I. chaps. 2, 4, 5. The Bhagavad-gîtâ, while being the New Testament for Vedantists, uses the terms Sâṅkhya and Yoga in various passages to signify speculative truth and the spiritual life, and aims to demonstrate that they are essentially the same. See II. 39; III. 3; V. 4, 5.
[766] Chând. Up. III. 14.
[767] Chând. Up. VI.
[768] See Deussen, Philosophy of the Upanishads.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See Deussen, Philosophy of the Upanishads.
[770] Maitrâyaṇa. Brâh. Upanishad, VI. 20. "Having seen his own self as The Self he becomes selfless, and because he is selfless he is without limit, without cause, absorbed in thought."
[770] Maitrâyaṇa. Brâh. Upanishad, VI. 20. "Once he recognizes his true self as The Self, he becomes selfless, and because he is selfless, he is limitless and uncaused, fully immersed in contemplation."
[771] There is nothing to fix the date of this work except that Kumârila in commenting on it in the eighth century treats it as old and authoritative. It was perhaps composed in the early Gupta period.
[771] There’s no specific date for this work, except that Kumârila refers to it as ancient and respected in his eighth-century commentary. It was likely written during the early Gupta period.
[772] Keith in J.R.A.S. 1907, p. 492 says it is becoming more and more probable that Bâdarâyaṇa cannot be dated after the Christian era. Jacobi in J.A.O.S. 1911, p. 29 concludes that the Brahma-sûtras were composed between 200 and 450 A.D.
[772] Keith in J.R.A.S. 1907, p. 492 states that it's increasingly likely that Bâdarâyaṇa can't be dated after the Christian era. Jacobi in J.A.O.S. 1911, p. 29 concludes that the Brahma-sûtras were written between 200 and 450 A.D.
[774] See above, p. 207 ff.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See above, p. 207 and following.
[775] The same distinction occurs in the works of Meister Eckhart († 1327 A.D.) who in many ways approximates to Indian thought, both Buddhist and Vedântist. He makes a distinction between the Godhead and God. The Godhead is the revealer but unrevealed: it is described as "wordless" (Yâjnavalkya's neti, neti), "the nameless nothing," "the immoveable rest." But God is the manifestation of the Godhead, the uttered word. "All that is in the Godhead is one. Therefore we can say nothing. He is above all names, above all nature. God works, so doeth not the Godhead. Therein are they distinguished, in working and in not working. The end of all things is the hidden darkness of the eternal Godhead, unknown and never to be known." (Quoted by Rufus Jones, Studies in Mystical Religion, p. 225.) It may be doubted if Śankara's distinction between the Higher and Lower Brahman is to be found in the Upanishads but it is probably the best means of harmonizing the discrepancies in those works which Indian theologians feel bound to explain away.
[775] The same distinction appears in the works of Meister Eckhart († 1327 A.D.), who in many ways aligns with Indian thought, both Buddhist and Vedantic. He makes a distinction between the Godhead and God. The Godhead is the revealer but remains unrevealed: it is described as "wordless" (Yajnavalkya's neti, neti), "the nameless nothing," and "the immovable rest." But God is the manifestation of the Godhead, the spoken word. "All that is in the Godhead is one. Therefore, we can say nothing. He is above all names, above all nature. God acts, while the Godhead does not. This is how they are distinguished, in action and in non-action. The end of all things is the hidden darkness of the eternal Godhead, unknown and never to be known." (Quoted by Rufus Jones, Studies in Mystical Religion, p. 225.) It may be debated whether Śankara's distinction between the Higher and Lower Brahman can be found in the Upanishads, but it is likely the best way to reconcile the discrepancies in those texts that Indian theologians feel compelled to explain away.
[776] Vedânta sûtras, II. 1. 32-3, and Śaṅkara's commentary, S.B.E. vol. XXXIV. pp. 356-7. Râmânuja holds a similar view and it is very common in India, e.g. Vishṇu Pur. I. chap. 2.
[776] Vedanta Sutras, II. 1. 32-3, and Shankara's commentary, S.B.E. vol. XXXIV. pp. 356-7. Ramanuja shares a similar perspective, which is quite common in India, e.g. Vishnu Purana, I. chap. 2.
[777] See too a remarkable passage in his comment on Brahma-sûtras, II. 1. 23. "As soon as the consciousness of non-difference arises in us, the transmigratory state of the individual soul and the creative quality of Brahman vanish at once, the whole phenomenon of plurality which springs from wrong knowledge being sublated by perfect knowledge and what becomes then of the creation and the faults of not doing what is beneficial and the like?"
[777] Also, check out a significant excerpt from his commentary on the Brahma-sûtras, II. 1. 23. "As soon as we become aware of our oneness, the individual soul's cycle of rebirth and the creative aspects of Brahman disappear instantly. The entire concept of multiplicity, which arises from misunderstanding, is overturned by true knowledge. So what happens to creation and the mistakes made by not doing what is good and similar issues?"
[778] Although Śaṅkara's commentary is a piece of severe ratiocination, especially in its controversial parts, yet he holds that the knowledge of Brahman depends not on reasoning but on scripture and intuition. "The presentation before the mind of the Highest Self is effected by meditation and devotion." Brah. Sut. III. 2. 24. See too his comments on I. 1. 2 and II. 1. 11.
[778] Although Śaṅkara's commentary is a rigorous analysis, especially in its debated sections, he argues that the understanding of Brahman relies not on reasoning but on scripture and intuition. "The awareness of the Highest Self is achieved through meditation and devotion." Brah. Sut. III. 2. 24. See also his comments on I. 1. 2 and II. 1. 11.
[779] See Sukhtankar, Teachings of Vedânta according to Râmânuja, pp. 17-19. Walleser, Der aeltere Vedânta, and De la Vallée Poussin in J.R.A.S. 1910, p. 129.
[779] See Sukhtankar, Teachings of Vedânta according to Râmânuja, pp. 17-19. Walleser, Der aeltere Vedânta, and De la Vallée Poussin in J.R.A.S. 1910, p. 129.
[780] This term is generally rendered by qualified, that is not absolute, Monism. But South Indian scholars give a slightly different explanation and maintain that it is equivalent to Viśishṭayor advaitam or the identity of the two qualified (viśishṭa) conditions of Brahman. Brahman is qualified by cit and acit, souls and matter, which stand to him in the relation of attributes. The two conditions are Kâryâvasthâ or period of cosmic manifestation in which cit and acit are manifest and Karaṇâvasthâ or period of cosmic dissolution, when they exist only in a subtle state within Brahman. These two conditions are not different (advaitam). See Srinivas Iyengar, J.R.A.S. 1912, p. 1073 and also Sri Râmânujâcárya: His Philosophy by Rajagopalacharyar.
[780] This term is usually interpreted as qualified, meaning not absolute, Monism. However, South Indian scholars offer a slightly different interpretation and argue that it is equivalent to Viśishṭayor advaitam or the oneness of the two qualified (viśishṭa) aspects of Brahman. Brahman is qualified by cit and acit, which represent souls and matter, seen as attributes of Brahman. The two aspects are Kâryâvasthâ or the phase of cosmic manifestation where cit and acit are evident and Karaṇâvasthâ or the phase of cosmic dissolution, when they exist only in a subtle form within Brahman. These two aspects are not separate (advaitam). See Srinivas Iyengar, J.R.A.S. 1912, p. 1073 and also Sri Râmânujâcárya: His Philosophy by Rajagopalacharyar.
[781] Compare the phrase of Keats in a letter quoted by Bosanquet, Gifford Lectures for 1912, p. 66. "As various as the lives of men are, so various become their souls and thus does God make individual beings, souls, identical souls of the sparks of his own essence."
[781] Compare the phrase from a letter by Keats quoted by Bosanquet, Gifford Lectures for 1912, p. 66. "As diverse as people's lives are, so diverse become their souls, and this is how God creates individual beings, souls, unique souls from the sparks of His own essence."
[782] This tenet is justified by Bṛihad Aran. Up. III. 3 ff. which is a great text for Râmânuja's school. "He who dwells in the earth (water, etc.) and within the earth (or, is different from the earth) whom the earth knows not, whose body the earth is, who rules the earth within, he is thyself, the ruler within, the immortal."
[782] This principle is supported by Bṛihad Aran. Up. III. 3 ff. which is an important text for Râmânuja's school. "He who exists in the earth (water, etc.) and beyond the earth (or is distinct from the earth) whom the earth does not recognize, whose body is the earth, who governs the earth from within, he is you, the ruler within, the eternal."
[783]Bhag.-gîtâ, XV. 16, 17.
[784]The two doctrines are called Vivartavâda and Pariṇâmavâda.
The two doctrines are called *Vivartavâda* and *Pariṇâmavâda.*
[786]It also finds expression in myths about the division of the deity into male and female halves, the cosmic egg, etc., which are found in all strata of Indian literature.
[786]It also shows up in myths about the deity being split into male and female halves, the cosmic egg, and so on, which appear in all levels of Indian literature.
[787]An account of tantric cosmology can be found in Avalon, Mahân. Tantra, pp xix-xxxi. See also Avalon, Prapancasâra Tantra, pp. 5 ff.; Srinivâsa Iyengar, Indian Philosophy, pp. 143 and 295 ff.; Bhandarkar, Vaishṇ. and Śaivism, pp. 145 ff.
[787]You can find an overview of tantric cosmology in Avalon, Mahân. Tantra, pp xix-xxxi. Also check out Avalon, Prapancasâra Tantra, pp. 5 ff.; Srinivâsa Iyengar, Indian Philosophy, pp. 143 and 295 ff.; Bhandarkar, Vaishṇ. and Śaivism, pp. 145 ff.
[790] See Rhys Davids' note in his Dialogues of the Buddha on Dîgha Nikâya, Sutta V. pp. 166 ff. He seems to show that Lokâyata meant originally natural philosophy as a part of a Brahman's education and only gradually acquired a bad meaning. The Arthasâstra also recommends the Sânkhya, Yoga and Lokâyata systems.
[790] See Rhys Davids' note in his Dialogues of the Buddha on Dîgha Nikâya, Sutta V. pp. 166 ff. He appears to indicate that Lokâyata originally referred to natural philosophy as part of a Brahman's education and only later took on a negative connotation. The Arthasâstra also endorses the Sânkhya, Yoga, and Lokâyata systems.
[791] Maitr. Up. VII. 8.
[792] See also Suali in Muséon, 1908, pp. 277 ff. and the article Materialism (Indian) in E.R.E. For another instance of ancient materialism see the views of Pâyâsi set forth in Dig. Nik. XXIII. The Bṛihad Ar. Up. III. 2. 13 implies that the idea of body and spirit being disintegrated at death was known though perhaps not relished.
[792] See also Suali in Muséon, 1908, pp. 277 ff. and the article Materialism (Indian) in E.R.E. For another example of ancient materialism, see the ideas of Pâyâsi explained in Dig. Nik. XXIII. The Bṛihad Ar. Up. III. 2. 13 suggests that the concept of body and spirit separating at death was recognized, though it might not have been well accepted.
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