CHAPTER LXXX.

ON THE INTRODUCTORY PRINCIPLES OF HINDU ASTROLOGY, WITH A SHORT

DESCRIPTION OF THEIR METHODS OF ASTROLOGICAL CALCULATIONS.

CHAPTER I.

[Page 9.]

ON THE HINDUS IN GENERAL, AS AN INTRODUCTION TO OUR ACCOUNT OF THEM.

[Description of the barriers which separate the Hindus from the Muslims

and make it so particularly difficult for a Muslim to study any Indian

subject.]

Before entering on our exposition, we must form an adequate idea of

that which renders it so particularly difficult to penetrate to the

essential nature of any Indian subject. The knowledge of these

difficulties will either facilitate the progress of our work, or serve

as an apology for any shortcomings of ours. For the reader must always

bear in mind that the Hindus entirely differ from us in every respect,

many a subject appearing intricate and obscure which would be perfectly

clear if there were more connection between us. The barriers which

separate Muslims and Hindus rest on different causes.

[First reason: Difference of the language and its particular nature.]

First, they differ from us in everything which other nations have in

common. And here we first mention the language, although the difference

of language also exists between other nations. If you want to conquer

this difficulty (i.e. to learn Sanskrit), you will not find it easy,

because the language is of an enormous range, both in words and

inflections, something like the Arabic, calling one and the same thing

by various names, both original and derived, and using one and the same

word for a variety of subjects, which, in order to be properly

understood, must be distinguished from each other by various qualifying

epithets. For nobody could distinguish between the various meanings of

a word unless he understands the context in which it occurs, and its

relation both to the following and the preceding parts of the sentence.

The Hindus, like other people, boast of this enormous range of their

language, whilst in reality it is a defect.

Further, the language is divided into a neglected vernacular one, only

in use among the common people, and a classical one, only in use among

the upper and educated classes, which is much cultivated, and subject

to the rules of grammatical inflection and etymology, and to all the

niceties of grammar and rhetoric.

Besides, some of the sounds (consonants) of which the language is

composed are neither identical with the sounds of Arabic and Persian,

nor resemble them in any way. Our tongue and uvula could scarcely

manage to correctly pronounce them, nor our ears in hearing to

distinguish them from similar sounds, nor could we transliterate them

with our characters. It is very difficult, therefore, to express an

Indian word in our writing, for in order to fix the pronunciation we

must change our orthographical points and signs, and must pronounce the

case-endings either according to the common Arabic rules or according

to special rules adapted for the purpose.

Add to this that the Indian scribes are careless, and do not take pains

to produce correct and well-collated copies. In consequence, the

highest results of the author’s mental development are lost by their

negligence, and his book becomes already in the first or second copy so

full of faults, that the text appears as something entirely new, which

neither a scholar nor one familiar with the subject, whether Hindu or

Muslim, could any longer understand. It will sufficiently illustrate

the matter if we tell the reader that we have sometimes written down a

word from the mouth of Hindus, taking the greatest pains to fix its

pronunciation, and that afterwards when we repeated it to them, they

had great difficulty in recognising it.

As in other foreign tongues, so also in Sanskrit, two or three

consonants may follow each other without an intervening

vowel—consonants which in our Persian grammatical system are considered

as having a hidden vowel. Since most Sanskrit words and names begin

with such consonants without vowels, we find it very difficult to

pronounce them.

Besides, the scientific books of the Hindus are composed in various

favourite metres, by which they intend, considering that the books soon

become corrupted by [Page 10.] additions and omissions, to preserve

them exactly as they are, in order to facilitate their being learned by

heart, because they consider as canonical only that which is known by

heart, not that which exists in writing. Now it is well known that in

all metrical compositions there is much misty and constrained

phraseology merely intended to fill up the metre and serving as a kind

of patchwork, and this necessitates a certain amount of verbosity. This

is also one of the reasons why a word has sometimes one meaning and

sometimes another.

From all this it will appear that the metrical form of literary

composition is one of the causes which make the study of Sanskrit

literature so particularly difficult.

[Second reason: Their religious prejudices.]

Secondly, they totally differ from us in religion, as we believe in

nothing in which they believe, and vice versâ. On the whole, there is

very little disputing about theological topics among themselves; at the

utmost, they fight with words, but they will never stake their soul or

body or their property on religious controversy. On the contrary, all

their fanaticism is directed against those who do not belong to

them—against all foreigners. They call them mleccha, i.e. impure, and

forbid having any connection with them, be it by intermarriage or any

other kind of relationship, or by sitting, eating, and drinking with

them, because thereby, they think, they would be polluted. They

consider as impure anything which touches the fire and the water of a

foreigner; and no household can exist without these two elements.

Besides, they never desire that a thing which once has been polluted

should be purified and thus recovered, as, under ordinary

circumstances, if anybody or anything has become unclean, he or it

would strive to regain the state of purity. They are not allowed to

receive anybody who does not belong to them, even if he wished it, or

was inclined to their religion. This, too, renders any connection with

them quite impossible, and constitutes the widest gulf between us and

them.

[Third reason: The radical difference of their manners and customs.]

In the third place, in all manners and usages they differ from us to

such a degree as to frighten their children with us, with our dress,

and our ways and customs, and as to declare us to be devil’s breed, and

our doings as the very opposite of all that is good and proper. By the

by, we must confess, in order to be just, that a similar depreciation

of foreigners not only prevails among us and the Hindus, but is common

to all nations towards each other. I recollect a Hindu who wreaked his

vengeance on us for the following reason:—

Some Hindu king had perished at the hand of an enemy of his who had

marched against him from our country. After his death there was born a

child to him, which succeeded him, by the name of Sagara. On coming of

age, the young man asked his mother about his father, and then she told

him what had happened. Now he was inflamed with hatred, marched out of

his country into the country of the enemy, and plentifully satiated his

thirst of vengeance upon them. After having become tired of

slaughtering, he compelled the survivors to dress in our dress, which

was meant as an ignominious punishment for them. When I heard of it, I

felt thankful that he was gracious enough not to compel us to Indianise

ourselves and to adopt Hindu dress and manners.

[Fourth reason: Aversion of the Buddhists towards the countries of the

West, whence they had been expelled. First inroads of the Muslims into

India.]

Another circumstance which increased the already existing antagonism

between Hindus and foreigners is that the so-called Shamaniyya

(Buddhists), though they cordially hate the Brahmans, still are nearer

akin to them than to others. In former times, Khurâsân, Persis, ʿIrâḳ,

Mosul, the country up to the frontier of Syria, was Buddhistic, but

then Zarathustra went forth from Âdharbaijân and preached Magism in

Balkh (Baktra). His doctrine came into favour with King Gushtasp, and

his son Isfendiyâd spread the new faith both in east and west, both by

force and by treaties. He founded fire-temples through his whole

empire, from [Page 11.] the frontiers of China to those of the Greek

empire. The succeeding kings made their religion (i.e. Zoroastrianism)

the obligatory state-religion for Persis and ʿIrâḳ. In consequence, the

Buddhists were banished from those countries, and had to emigrate to

the countries east of Balkh. There are some Magians up to the present

time in India, where they are called Maga. From that time dates their

aversion towards the countries of Khurâsân. But then came Islam; the

Persian empire perished, and the repugnance of the Hindus against

foreigners increased more and more when the Muslims began to make their

inroads into their country; for Muḥammad Ibn Elḳâsim Ibn Elmunabbih

entered Sindh from the side of Sijistân (Sakastene) and conquered the

cities of Bahmanwâ and Mûlasthâna, the former of which he called

Al-manṣûra, the latter Al-maʾmûra. He entered India proper, and

penetrated even as far as Kanauj, marched through the country of

Gandhâra, and on his way back, through the confines of Kashmîr,

sometimes fighting sword in hand, sometimes gaining his ends by

treaties, leaving to the people their ancient belief, except in the

case of those who wanted to become Muslims. All these events planted

a deeply rooted hatred in their hearts.

[Muhammadan conquest of the country by Maḥmûd.]

Now in the following times no Muslim conqueror passed beyond the

frontier of Kâbul and the river Sindh until the days of the Turks, when

they seized the power in Ghazna under the Sâmânî dynasty, and the

supreme power fell to the lot of Nâṣir-addaula Sabuktagîn. This prince

chose the holy war as his calling, and therefore called himself

Al-ghâzî (i.e. warring on the road of Allah). In the interest of his

successors he constructed, in order to weaken the Indian frontier,

those roads on which afterwards his son Yamîn-addaula Maḥmûd marched

into India during a period of thirty years and more. God be merciful to

both father and son! Maḥmûd utterly ruined the prosperity of the

country, and performed there wonderful exploits, by which the Hindus

became like atoms of dust scattered in all directions, and like a tale

of old in the mouth of the people. Their scattered remains cherish, of

course, the most inveterate aversion towards all Muslims. This is the

reason, too, why Hindu sciences have retired far away from those parts

of the country conquered by us, and have fled to places which our hand

cannot yet reach, to Kashmîr, Benares, and other places. And there the

antagonism between them and all foreigners receives more and more

nourishment both from political and religious sources.

[Fifth reason: The self-conceit of the Hindus, and their depreciation

of anything foreign.]

In the fifth place, there are other causes, the mentioning of which

sounds like a satire—peculiarities of their national character, deeply

rooted in them, but manifest to everybody. We can only say, folly is an

illness for which there is no medicine, and the Hindus believe that

there is no country but theirs, no nation like theirs, no kings like

theirs, no religion like theirs, no science like theirs. They are

haughty, foolishly vain, self-conceited, and stolid. They are by nature

niggardly in communicating that which they know, and they take the

greatest possible care to withhold it from men of another caste among

their own people, still much more, of course, from any foreigner.

According to their belief, there is no other country on earth but

theirs, no other race of man but theirs, and no created beings besides

them have any knowledge or science whatsoever. Their haughtiness is

such that, if you tell them of any science or scholar in Khurâsân and

Persis, they will think you to be both an ignoramus and a liar. If they

travelled and mixed with other nations, they would soon change their

mind, for their ancestors were not as narrow-minded as the present

generation is. One of their scholars, Varâhamihira, in a passage where

he calls on the people to honour the Brahmans, says: “The Greeks,

though impure, must be honoured, since they were trained in sciences,

and therein excelled others. What, then, are we to say of a Brahman, if

he combines with his purity the height of science?” In former times,

the [Page 12.] Hindus used to acknowledge that the progress of science

due to the Greeks is much more important than that which is due to

themselves. But from this passage of Varâhamihira alone you see what a

self-lauding man he is, whilst he gives himself airs as doing justice

to others. At first I stood to their astronomers in the relation of a

pupil to his master, being a stranger among them and not acquainted

with their peculiar national and traditional methods of science. On

having made some progress, I began to show them the elements on which

this science rests, to point out to them some rules of logical

deduction and the scientific methods of all mathematics, and then they

flocked together round me from all parts, wondering, and most eager to

learn from me, asking me at the same time from what Hindu master I had

learnt those things, whilst in reality I showed them what they were

worth, and thought myself a great deal superior to them, disdaining to

be put on a level with them. They almost thought me to be a sorcerer,

and when speaking of me to their leading men in their native tongue,

they spoke of me as the sea or as the water which is so acid that

vinegar in comparison is sweet.

[Personal relations of the author.] Now such is the state of things in

India. I have found it very hard to work my way into the subject,

although I have a great liking for it, in which respect I stand quite

alone in my time, and although I do not spare either trouble or money

in collecting Sanskrit books from places where I supposed they were

likely to be found, and in procuring for myself, even from very remote

places, Hindu scholars who understand them and are able to teach me.

What scholar, however, has the same favourable opportunities of

studying this subject as I have? That would be only the case with one

to whom the grace of God accords, what it did not accord to me, a

perfectly free disposal of his own doings and goings; for it has never

fallen to my lot in my own doings and goings to be perfectly

independent, nor to be invested with sufficient power to dispose and to

order as I thought best. However, I thank God for that which He has

bestowed upon me, and which must be considered as sufficient for the

purpose.

[The author declares his intention of comparing Greek theories, because

of their being near akin, and of their strictly scientific character as

contrasted with those of the Hindus.] The heathen Greeks, before the

rise of Christianity, held much the same opinions as the Hindus; their

educated classes thought much the same as those of the Hindus; their

common people held the same idolatrous views as those of the Hindus.

Therefore I like to confront the theories of the one nation with those

of the other simply on account of their close relationship, not in

order to correct them. For that which is not the truth (i.e. the true

belief or monotheism) does not admit of any correction, and all

heathenism, whether Greek or Indian, is in its pith and marrow one and

the same belief, because it is only a deviation from the truth. The

Greeks, however, had philosophers who, living in their country,

discovered and worked out for them the elements of science, not of

popular superstition, for it is the object of the upper classes to be

guided by the results of science, whilst the common crowd will always

be inclined to plunge into wrong-headed wrangling, as long as they are

not kept down by fear of punishment. Think of Socrates when he opposed

the crowd of his nation as to their idolatry and did not want to call

the stars gods! At once eleven of the twelve judges of the Athenians

agreed on a sentence of death, and Socrates died faithful to the truth.

The Hindus had no men of this stamp both capable and willing to bring

sciences to a classical perfection. Therefore you mostly find that even

the so-called scientific theorems of the Hindus are in a state of utter

confusion, devoid of any logical order, and in the last instance always

mixed up with the silly notions of the crowd, e.g. immense numbers,

enormous spaces of time, and all kinds of religious dogmas, which the

vulgar belief does not admit of being called into question. Therefore

it is a prevailing practice among the Hindus jurare in verba magistri;

and I can only compare their mathematical and astronomical literature,

as far as I know it, to [Page 13.] a mixture of pearl shells and sour

dates, or of pearls and dung, or of costly crystals and common pebbles.

Both kinds of things are equal in their eyes, since they cannot raise

themselves to the methods of a strictly scientific deduction.

[The author’s method.] In most parts of my work I simply relate without

criticising, unless there be a special reason for doing so. I mention

the necessary Sanskrit names and technical terms once where the context

of our explanation demands it. If the word is an original one, the

meaning of which can be rendered in Arabic, I only use the

corresponding Arabic word; if, however, the Sanskrit word be more

practical, we keep this, trying to transliterate it as accurately as

possible. If the word is a secondary or derived one, but in general

use, we also keep it, though there be a corresponding term in Arabic,

but before using it we explain its signification. In this way we have

tried to facilitate the understanding of the terminology.

Lastly, we observe that we cannot always in our discussions strictly

adhere to the geometrical method, only referring to that which precedes

and never to that which follows, as we must sometimes introduce in a

chapter an unknown factor, the explanation of which can only be given

in a later part of the book, God helping us!

CHAPTER II.

ON THE BELIEF OF THE HINDUS IN GOD.

[The nature of God.] The belief of educated and uneducated people

differs in every nation; for the former strive to conceive abstract

ideas and to define general principles, whilst the latter do not pass

beyond the apprehension of the senses, and are content with derived

rules, without caring for details, especially in questions of religion

and law, regarding which opinions and interests are divided.

The Hindus believe with regard to God that he is one, eternal, without

beginning and end, acting by free-will, almighty, all-wise, living,

giving life, ruling, preserving; one who in his sovereignty is unique,

beyond all likeness and unlikeness, and that he does not resemble

anything nor does anything resemble him. In order to illustrate this we

shall produce some extracts from their literature, lest the reader

should think that our account is nothing but hearsay.

[Quotation from Patañjali.] In the book of Patañjali the pupil asks:

“Who is the worshipped one, by the worship of whom blessing is

obtained?”

The master says:

“It is he who, being eternal and unique, does not for his part stand in

need of any human action for which he might give as a recompense either

a blissful repose, which is hoped and longed for, or a troubled

existence, which is feared and dreaded. He is unattainable to thought,

being sublime beyond all unlikeness which is abhorrent and all likeness

which is sympathetic. He by his essence knows from all eternity.

Knowledge, in the human sense of the term, has as its object that which

was unknown before, whilst not knowing does not at any time or in any

condition apply to God.”

Further the pupil speaks:

“Do you attribute to him other qualities besides those you have

mentioned?”

The master says:

“He is height, absolute in the idea, not in space, for he is sublime

beyond all existence in any space. He is the pure absolute good, longed

for by every created being. He is the knowledge free from the

defilement of forgetfulness and not-knowing.”

The pupil speaks:

“Do you attribute to him speech or not?”

The master says:

“As he knows, he no doubt also speaks.”

The pupil asks:

“If he speaks because he knows, what, then, is the difference between

him and the knowing sages who have spoken of their knowing?”

The master says:

[Page 14.] “The difference between them is time, for they have learned

in time and spoken in time, after having been not-knowing and

not-speaking. By speech they have transferred their knowledge to

others. Therefore their speaking and acquiring knowledge take place in

time. And as divine matters have no connection with time, God is

knowing, speaking from eternity. It was he who spoke to Brahman, and to

others of the first beings in different ways. On the one he bestowed a

book; for the other he opened a door, a means of communicating with

him; a third one he inspired so that he obtained by cogitation what God

bestowed upon him.”

The pupil asks:

“Whence has he this knowing?”

The master answers:

“His knowing is the same from all eternity, for ever and ever. As he

has never been not-knowing, he is knowing of himself, having never

acquired any knowledge which he did not possess before. He speaks in

the Veda which he sent down upon Brahman:

“‘Praise and celebrate him who has spoken the Veda, and was before the

Veda.’”

The pupil asks:

“How do you worship him to whom the perception of the senses cannot

attain?”

The master says:

“His name proves his existence, for where there is a report there must

be something to which it refers, and where there is a name there must

be something which is named. He is hidden to the senses and

unperceivable by them. However, the soul perceives him, and thought

comprehends his qualities. This meditation is identical with

worshipping him exclusively, and by practising it uninterruptedly

beatitude is obtained.”

In this way the Hindus express themselves in this very famous book.

[Quotation from the book Gîtâ.] The following passage is taken from the

book Gîtâ, a part of the book Bhârata, from the conversation between

Vâsudeva and Arjuna:—

“I am the universe, without a beginning by being born, or without an

end by dying. I do not aim by whatever I do at any recompense. I do not

specially belong to one class of beings to the exclusion of others, as

if I were the friend of one and the enemy of others. I have given to

each one in my creation what is sufficient for him in all his

functions. Therefore whoever knows me in this capacity, and tries to

become similar to me by keeping desire apart from his action, his

fetters will be loosened, and he will easily be saved and freed.”

This passage reminds one of the definition of philosophy as the

striving to become as much as possible similar to God.

Further, Vâsudeva speaks in the same book:—

“It is desire which causes most men to take refuge with God for their

wants. But if you examine their case closely, you will find that they

are very far from having an accurate knowledge of him; for God is not

apparent to every one, so that he might perceive him with his senses.

Therefore they do not know him. Some of them do not pass beyond what

their senses perceive; some pass beyond this, but stop at the knowledge

of the laws of nature, without learning that above them there is one

who did not give birth nor was born, the essence of whose being has not

been comprehended by the knowledge of any one, while his knowledge

comprehends everything.”

[On the notions of the action and the agent.] The Hindus differ among

themselves as to the definition of what is action. Some who make God

the source of action consider him as the universal cause; for as the

existence of the agents derives from him, he is the cause of their

action, and in consequence it is his own action coming into existence

through their intermediation. Others do not derive action from God, but

from other sources, considering them as the particular causes which in

the last instance—according to external observation—produce the action

in question.

[Quotation from the book Sâṁkhya.] In the book Sâṁkhya the devotee

speaks: “Has there been a difference of opinion about action and the

agent, or not?”

The sage speaks: “Some people say that the soul is not alive and the

matter not living; that God, who is self-sufficing, is he who unites

them and separates them [Page 15.] from each other; that therefore in

reality he himself is the agent. Action proceeds from him in such a way

that he causes both the soul and the matter to move, like as that which

is living and powerful moves that which is dead and weak.

“Others say that the union of action and the agent is effected by

nature, and that such is the usual process in everything that increases

and decreases.

“Others say the agent is the soul, because in the Veda it is said,

‘Every being comes from Purusha.’ According to others, the agent is

time, for the world is tied to time as a sheep is tied to a strong

cord, so that its motion depends upon whether the cord is drawn tight

or slackened. Still others say that action is nothing but a recompense

for something which has been done before.

“All these opinions are wrong. The truth is, that action entirely

belongs to matter, for matter binds the soul, causes it to wander about

in different shapes, and then sets it free. Therefore matter is the

agent, all that belongs to matter helps it to accomplish action. But

the soul is not an agent, because it is devoid of the different

faculties.”

[Philosophical and vulgar notions about the nature of God.] This is

what educated people believe about God. They call him îśvara, i.e.

self-sufficing, beneficent, who gives without receiving. They consider

the unity of God as absolute, but that everything beside God which may

appear as a unity is really a plurality of things. The existence of God

they consider as a real existence, because everything that exists

exists through him. It is not impossible to think that the existing

beings are not and that he is, but it is impossible to think that he is

not and that they are.

If we now pass from the ideas of the educated people among the Hindus

to those of the common people, we must first state that they present a

great variety. Some of them are simply abominable, but similar errors

also occur in other religions. Nay, even in Islam we must decidedly

disapprove, e.g. of the anthropomorphic doctrines, the teachings of the

Jabriyya sect, the prohibition of the discussion of religious topics,

and such like. Every religious sentence destined for the people at

large must be carefully worded, as the following example shows. Some

Hindu scholar calls God a point, meaning to say thereby that the

qualities of bodies do not apply to him. Now some uneducated man reads

this and imagines, God is as small as a point, and he does not find out

what the word point in this sentence was really intended to express. He

will not even stop with this offensive comparison, but will describe

God as much larger, and will say, “He is twelve fingers long and ten

fingers broad.” Praise be to God, who is far above measure and number!

Further, if an uneducated man hears what we have mentioned, that God

comprehends the universe so that nothing is concealed from him, he will

at once imagine that this comprehending is effected by means of

eyesight; that eyesight is only possible by means of an eye, and that

two eyes are better than only one; and in consequence he will describe

God as having a thousand eyes, meaning to describe his omniscience.

Similar hideous fictions are sometimes met with among the Hindus,

especially among those castes who are not allowed to occupy themselves

with science, of whom we shall speak hereafter.

CHAPTER III.

ON THE HINDU BELIEF AS TO CREATED THINGS, BOTH “INTELLIGIBILIA” AND

“SENSIBILIA.”

[Notions of the Greeks and the Ṣûfî philosophers as to the First

Cause.] On this subject the ancient Greeks held nearly the same view as

the Hindus, at all events in those times before philosophy rose high

among them under the care of the seven so-called pillars of wisdom,

viz. Solon of Athens, Bias of Priene, Periander of Corinth, Thales of

Miletus, Chilon of Lacedæmon, Pittacus of Lesbos, and [Page 16.]

Cleobulus of Lindos, and their successors. Some of them thought that

all things are one, and this one thing is according to some τὸ

λανθάνειν, according to others ἡ δύναμις; that e.g. man has only this

prerogative before a stone and the inanimate world, that he is by one

degree nearer than they to the First Cause. But by this he would not be

anything better than they.

Others think that only the First Cause has real existence, because it

alone is self-sufficing, whilst everything else absolutely requires it;

that a thing which for its existence stands in need of something else

has only a dream-life, no real life, and that reality is only that one

and first being (the First Cause).

[Origin of the word Ṣûfî.] This is also the theory of the Ṣûfîs, i.e.

the sages, for ṣûf means in Greek wisdom (σοφία). Therefore a

philosopher is called pailâsôpâ (φιλόσοφος), i.e. loving wisdom. When

in Islam persons adopted something like the doctrines of these

philosophers, they also adopted their name; but some people did not

understand the meaning of the word, and erroneously combined it with

the Arabic word ṣuffa, as if the Ṣûfî (= φιλόσοφοι) were identical with

the so-called ʾAhl-aṣṣuffa among the companions of Muḥammad. In later

times the word was corrupted by misspelling, so that finally it was

taken for a derivation from ṣûf, i.e. the wool of goats. Abû-alfatḥ

Albustî made a laudable effort to avoid this mistake when he said,

“From olden times people have differed as to the meaning of the word

ṣûfî, and have thought it a derivative from ṣûf, i.e. wool. I, for my

part, understand by the word a youth who is ṣâfî, i.e. pure. This ṣâfî

has become ṣûfî, and in this form the name of a class of thinkers, the

Ṣûfî.”

Further, the same Greeks think that the existing world is only one

thing; that the First Cause appears in it under various shapes; that

the power of the First Cause is inherent in the parts of the world

under different circumstances, which cause a certain difference of the

things of the world notwithstanding their original unity.

Others thought that he who turns with his whole being towards the First

Cause, striving to become as much as possible similar to it, will

become united with it after having passed the intermediate stages, and

stripped of all appendages and impediments. Similar views are also held

by the Ṣûfî, because of the similarity of the dogma.

As to the souls and spirits, the Greeks think that they exist by

themselves before they enter bodies; that they exist in certain numbers

and groups, which stand in various relations to each other, knowing

each other and not knowing; that they, whilst staying in bodies, earn

by the actions of their free-will that lot which awaits them after

their separation from the bodies, i.e. the faculty of ruling the world

in various ways. Therefore they called them gods, built temples in

their [Galenus.] names and offered them sacrifices; as Galenus says in

his book called προτρεπτικὸς εἰς τὰς τέχνας: “Excellent men have

obtained the honour of being reckoned among the deified beings only for

the noble spirit in which they cultivated the arts, not for their

prowess in wrestling and discus-throwing. E.g. Asclepius and Dionysos,

whether they were originally human beings in bygone times and

afterwards deified, or were divine beings from the very beginning,

deserved in any case [Page 17.] the greatest of honours, because the

one taught mankind the science of medicine, the other the art of the

cultivation of the vine.”

Galenus says in his commentary on the aphorisms of Hippocrates: “As

regards the offerings to Asclepius, we have never heard that anybody

offered him a goat, because the weaving of goat’s-hair is not easy, and

much goat’s-meat produces epilepsy, since the humours of the goats are

bad. People only offer him a cock, as also Hippocrates has done. For

this divine man acquired for mankind the art of medicine, which is much

superior to that which Dionysos and Demeter have invented, i.e. the

wine and the cereals whence bread is prepared. Therefore cereals are

called by the name of Demeter and the vine is called by the name of

Dionysos.”

[Plato.] Plato says in his Timæus: “The θεοί whom the barbarians call

gods, because of their not dying, are the δαίμονες, whilst they call

the god the first god.”

Further he says: “God spoke to the gods, ‘You are not of yourselves

exempt from destruction. Only you will not perish by death. You have

obtained from my will at the time when I created you, the firmest

covenant.’”

In another passage of the same book he says: “God is in the single

number; there are no gods in the plural number.”

These quotations prove that the Greeks call in general god everything

that is glorious and noble, and the like usage exists among many

nations. They go even so far as to call gods the mountains, the seas,

&c. Secondly, they apply the term god in a special sense to the First

Cause, to the angels, and to their souls. According to a third usage,

Plato calls gods the Sekînât (= Μοῦσαι). But on this subject the terms

of the interpreters are not perfectly clear; in consequence of which we

only know the name, but not what it [Johannes Grammaticus.] means.

Johannes Grammaticus says in his refutation of Proclus: “The Greeks

gave the name of gods to the visible bodies in heaven, as many

barbarians do. Afterwards, when they came to philosophise on the

abstract ideas of the world of thought, they called these by the name

of gods.”

Hence we must necessarily infer that being deified means something like

the state of angels, according to our notions. This Galenus says in

clear words [Galenus.] in the same book: “If it is true that Asclepius

was a man in bygone times, and that then God deigned to make him one of

the angels, everything else is idle talk.”

In another passage of the same book he says: “God spoke to Lycurgus, ‘I

am in doubt concerning you, whether to call you a man or an angel, but

I incline to the latter.’”

[Difference of denominating God in Arabic, Hebrew, and Syriac.] There

are, however, certain expressions which are offensive according to the

notions of one religion, whilst they are admissible according to those

of another, which may pass in one language, whilst they are rejected by

another. To this class belongs the word apotheosis, which has a bad

sound in the ears of Muslims. If we consider the use of the word god in

the Arabic language, we find that all the names by which the pure

truth, i.e. [Page 18.] Allâh, has been named, may somehow or other be

applied to other beings besides him, except the word Allâh, which only

applies to God, and which has been called his greatest name.

If we consider the use of the word in Hebrew and Syriac, in which two

languages the sacred books before the Koran were revealed, we find that

in the Thora and the following books of prophets which are reckoned

with the Thora as one whole, that word Rabb corresponds to the word

Allâh in Arabic, in so far as it cannot in a genitive construction be

applied to anybody besides God, and you cannot say the rabb of the

house, the rabb of the property (which in Arabic is allowed). And,

secondly, we find that the word ’Eloah in Hebrew corresponds in its

usage there to the word Rabb in Arabic (i.e. that in Hebrew the word

‏אֱלֹהַ‎ may apply to other beings but God, like the word ربّ‎ in Arabic).

The following passages occur in those books:—

“The sons of Elohim came in unto the daughters of men” (Gen. vi. 4),

before the deluge, and cohabited with them.

“Satan entered together with the sons of Elohim into their meeting”

(Job i. 6).

In the Thora of Moses God speaks to him: “I have made thee a god to

Pharaoh” (Exod. vii. 1).

In the 82d Psalm of the Psalter of David the following occurs: “God

standeth in the congregation of the gods” (Ps. lxxxii. 1), i.e. of the

angels.

In the Thora the idols are called foreign gods. If the Thora had not

forbidden to worship any other being but God, if it had not forbidden

people to prostrate themselves before the idols, nay, even to mention

them and to think of them, one might infer from this expression

(foreign gods) that the order of the Bible refers only to the abolition

of foreign gods, which would mean gods that are not Hebrew ones (as if

the Hebrews had adored national gods, in opposition to the gods of

their neighbours). The nations round Palestine were idol worshippers

like the heathen Greeks, and the Israelites always rebelled against God

by worshipping the idol of Baal (lit. Baʿlâ) and the idol of Ashtârôth,

i.e. Venus.

From all this it is evident that the Hebrews used to apply the term

being god, grammatically a term like being king, to the angels, to the

souls invested with divine power (v. p. 34); by way of comparison,

also, to the images which were made to represent the bodies of those

beings; lastly, metaphorically, to kings and to other great men.

Passing from the word God to those of father and son, we must state

that Islam is not liberal in the use of them; for in Arabic the word

son means nearly always as much as a child in the natural order of

things, and from the ideas involved in parentage and birth can never be

derived any expression meaning the Eternal Lord of creation. Other

languages, however, take much more liberty in this respect; so that if

people address a man by father, it is nearly the same as if they

addressed him by sir. As is well known, phrases of this kind have

become so prevalent among the Christians, that anybody who does not

always use the words father and son in addressing people would scarcely

be considered as one of them. By the son they understand most

especially Jesus, but apply it also to others besides him. It is Jesus

who orders his disciples to say in prayer, “O our father which art in

heaven” (St. Matt. vi. 9); and informing them of his approaching death,

he says that he is going to his father and to their father (St. John

xx. 17). In most of his speeches he explains the word the son as

meaning himself, that he is the son of man.

Besides the Christians, the Jews too use similar expressions; [Page

19.] for the 2d Book of Kings relates that God consoled David for the

loss of his son, who had been borne to him by the wife of Uriah, and

promised him another son from her, whom he would adopt as his own son

(1 Chron. xxii. 9, 10). If the use of the Hebrew language admits that

Salomo is by adoption a son of God, it is admissible that he who

adopted was a father, viz. God.

[Note on the Manichæans.] The Manichæans stand in a near relationship

to the Christians. Mânî expresses himself in a similar way in the book

called Kanz-alʾiḥyâ (Thesaurus Vivificationis): “The resplendent hosts

will be called young women and virgins, fathers and mothers, sons,

brothers, and sisters, because such is the custom in the books of the

prophets. In the country of joy there is neither male nor female, nor

are there organs of generation. All are invested with living bodies.

Since they have divine bodies, they do not differ from each other in

weakness and force, in length and shortness, in figure and looks; they

are like similar lamps, which are lighted by the same lamp, and which

are nourished by the same material. The cause of this kind of

name-giving arises, in the last instance, from the rivalry of the two

realms in mixing up with each other. When the low dark realm rose from

the abyss of chaos, and was seen by the high resplendent realm as

consisting of pairs of male and female beings, the latter gave similar

outward forms to its own children, who started to fight that other

world, so that it placed in the fight one kind of beings opposite the

same kind of the other world.”

The educated among the Hindus abhor anthropomorphisms of this kind, but

the crowd and the members of the single sects use them most

extensively. They go even beyond all we have hitherto mentioned, so as

to speak of wife, son, daughter, of the rendering pregnant and other

physical processes, all in connection with God. They are even so little

pious, that, when speaking of these things, they do not even abstain

from silly and unbecoming language. However, nobody minds these classes

and their theories, though they be [Notions of the educated Hindus. All

created beings are a unity.] numerous. The main and most essential

point of the Hindu world of thought is that which the Brahmans think

and believe, for they are specially trained for preserving and

maintaining their religion. And this it is which we shall explain, viz.

the belief of the Brahmans.

Regarding the whole creation (τὸ ὂν), they think that it is a unity, as

has already been declared, because Vâsudeva speaks in the book called

Gîtâ: “To speak accurately, we must say that all things are divine; for

Vishṇu made himself the earth that the living beings should rest

thereupon; he made himself water to nourish them thereby; he made

himself fire and wind in order to make them grow; and he made himself

the heart of every single being. He presented them with recollection

and knowledge and the two opposite qualities, as is mentioned in the

Veda.”

How much does this resemble the expression of the author of the book of

Apollonius, De Causis Rerum, as if the one had been taken from the

other! He says: “There is in all men a divine power, by which all

things, both material and immaterial, are apprehended.” Thus in Persian

the immaterial Lord is called Khudhâ, and in a derivative sense the

word is also used to mean a man, i.e. a human lord.

[Purusha.] I. Those Hindus who prefer clear and accurate definitions to

vague allusions call the soul purusha, which means man, because it is

the living element in the existing world. Life is the only attribute

which they give to it. They describe it as alternately knowing and not

knowing, as not knowing ἐν πράξει (actually), and as knowing ἐν δυνάμει

(potentially), gaining knowledge by acquisition. The not-knowing of

purusha is [Page 20.] the cause why action comes into existence, and

its knowing is the cause why action ceases.

II. Next follows the general matter, i.e. the abstract [Avyakta.] ὕλη,

which they call avyakta, i.e. a shapeless thing. It is dead, but has

three powers potentially, not actually, which are called sattva, rajas,

and tamas. I have heard that Buddhodana (sic), in speaking to his

adherents the Shamanians, calls them buddha, dharma, saṅgha, as it were

intelligence, religion, and ignorance (sic). The first power is rest

and goodness, and hence come existing and growing. The second is

exertion and fatigue, and hence come firmness and duration. The third

is languor and irresolution, and hence come ruin and perishing.

Therefore the first power is attributed to the angels, the second to

men, the third to the animals. The ideas before, afterwards, and

thereupon may be predicated of all these things only in the sense of a

certain sequence and on account of the inadequacy of language, but not

so as to indicate any ordinary notions of time.

[Vyakta and prakṛiti.] III. Matter proceeding from δύναμις into πρᾶξις

under the various shapes and with the three primary forces is called

vyakta, i.e., having shape, whilst the union of the abstract ὕλη and of

the shaped matter is called prakṛiti. This term, however, is of no use

to us; we do not want to speak of an abstract matter, the term matter

alone being sufficient for us, since the one does not exist without the

other.

[Ahaṅkâra.] IV. Next comes nature, which they call ahaṅkâra. The word

is derived from the ideas of overpowering, developing, and

self-assertion, because matter when assuming shape causes things to

develop into new forms, and this growing consists in the changing of a

foreign element and assimilating it to the growing one. Hence it is as

if Nature were trying to overpower those other or foreign elements in

this process of changing them, and were subduing that which is changed.

[Mahâbhûta.] V.–IX. As a matter of course, each compound presupposes

simple elements from which it is compounded and into which it is

resolved again. The universal existences in the world are the five

elements, i.e. according to the Hindus: heaven, wind, fire, water, and

earth. They are called mahâbhûta, i.e. having great natures. They do

not think, as other people do, that the fire is a hot dry body near the

bottom of the ether. They understand by fire the common fire on earth

which [Annotation from Vâyu Purâṇa.] comes from an inflammation of

smoke. The Vâyu Purâṇa says: “In the beginning were earth, water, wind,

and heaven. Brahman, on seeing sparks under the earth, brought them

forward and divided them into three parts: the first, pârthiva, is the

common fire, which requires wood and is extinguished by water; the

second is divya, i.e. the sun; the third, vidyut, i.e. the lightning.

The sun attracts the water; the lightning shines through the water. In

the animals, also, there is fire in the midst of moist substances,

which serve to nourish the fire and do not extinguish it.”

[Pañca mâtaras.] X.–XIV. As these elements are compound, they

presuppose [Page 21.] simple ones which are called pañca mâtaras, i.e.

five mothers. They describe them as the functions of the senses. The

simple element of heaven is śabda, i.e. that which is heard; that of

the wind is sparśa, i.e. that which is touched; that of the fire is

rûpa, i.e. that which is seen; that of the water is rasa, i.e. that

which is tasted; and that of the earth is gandha, i.e. that which is

smelled. With each of these mahâbhûta elements (earth, water, &c.) they

connect, firstly, one of the pañca-mâtaras elements, as we have here

shown; and, secondly, all those which have been attributed to the

mahâbhûta elements previously mentioned. So the earth has all five

qualities; the water has them minus the smelling (= four qualities);

the fire has them minus the smelling and tasting (i.e. three

qualities); the wind has them minus smelling, tasting, and seeing (i.e.

two qualities); heaven has them minus smelling, tasting, seeing, and

touching (i.e. one quality).

I do not know what the Hindus mean by bringing sound into relation with

heaven. Perhaps they mean something similar to what Homer, the poet of

the ancient Greeks, said, “Those invested with the seven melodies speak

and give answer to each other in a pleasant tone.” Thereby he meant the

seven planets; as another poet says, “The spheres endowed with

different melodies are seven, moving eternally, praising the Creator,

for it is he who holds them and embraces them unto the farthest end of

the starless sphere.”

Porphyry says in his book on the opinions of the most prominent

philosophers about the nature of the sphere: “The heavenly bodies

moving about in forms and shapes and with wonderful melodies, which are

fixed for ever, as Pythagoras and Diogenes have explained, point to

their Creator, who is without equal and without shape. People say that

Diogenes had such subtle senses that he, and he alone, could hear the

sound of the motion of the sphere.”

All these expressions are rather hints than clear speech, but admitting

of a correct interpretation on a scientific basis. Some successor of

those philosophers, one of those who did not grasp the full truth,

says: “Sight is watery, hearing airy, smelling fiery, tasting earthy,

and touching is what the soul bestows upon everybody by uniting itself

with it.” I suppose this philosopher connects the sight with the water

because he had heard of the moist substances of the eye and of their

different classes (lacuna); he refers the smelling to the fire on

account of frankincense and smoke; the tasting to the earth because of

his nourishment which the earth yields him. As, then, the four elements

are finished, he is compelled for the fifth sense, the touching, to

have recourse to the soul.

The result of all these elements which we have enumerated, i.e. a

compound of all of them, is the animal. The Hindus consider the plants

as a species of animal as Plato also thinks that the plants have a

sense, because they have the faculty of distinguishing between that

which suits them and that which is detrimental to them. The animal is

an animal as distinguished from a stone by virtue of its possession of

the senses.

[Indriyâṇi.] XV.–XIX. The senses are five, called indriyâṇi, the

hearing by the ear, the seeing by the eye, the smelling by the nose,

the tasting by the tongue, and the touching by the skin.

[Manas.] XX. Next follows the will, which directs the senses in the

exercise of their various functions, and which dwells in the heart.

Therefore they call it manas.

[Karmendriyâṇi.] XXI.–XXV. The animal nature is rendered perfect by

five necessary functions, which they call karmendriyâṇi, [Page 22.]

i.e. the senses of action. The former senses bring about learning and

knowledge, the latter action and work. We shall call them the

necessaria. They are: 1. To produce a sound for any of the different

wants and wishes a man may have; 2. To throw the hands with force, in

order to draw towards or to put away; 3. To walk with the feet, in

order to seek something or to fly from it; 4, 5. The ejection of the

superfluous elements of nourishment by means of the two openings

created for the purpose.

[Recapitulation of the twenty-five elements.] The whole of these

elements are twenty-five, viz.:—

1. The general soul.

2. The abstract ὕλη.

3. The shaped matter.

4. The overpowering nature.

5–9. The simple mothers.

10–14. The primary elements.

15–19. The senses of apperception.

20. The directing will.

21–25. The instrumental necessaria.

The totality of these elements is called tattva, and all knowledge is

restricted to them. Therefore Vyâsa the son of Parâśara speaks: “Learn

twenty-five by distinctions, definitions, and divisions, as you learn a

logical syllogism, and something which is a certainty, not merely

studying with the tongue. Afterwards adhere to whatever religion you

like; your end will be salvation.”

CHAPTER IV.

FROM WHAT CAUSE ACTION ORIGINATES, AND HOW THE SOUL IS CONNECTED WITH

MATTER.

[The soul longing to be united with the body, is so united by

intermediary spirits.] Voluntary actions cannot originate in the body

of any animal, unless the body be living and exist in close contact

with that which is living of itself, i.e. the soul. The Hindus maintain

that the soul is ἐν πράξει, not ἐν δυνάμει, ignorant of its own

essential nature and of its material substratum, longing to apprehend

what it does not know, and believing that it cannot exist unless by

matter. As, therefore, it longs for the good which is duration, and

wishes to learn that which is hidden from it, it starts off in order to

be united with matter. However, substances which are dense and such as

are tenuous, if they have these qualities in the very highest degree,

can mix together only by means of intermediary elements which stand in

a certain relation to each of the two. Thus the air is the medium

between fire and water, which are opposed to each other by these two

qualities, for the air is related to the fire in tenuity and to the

water in density, and by either of these qualities it renders the one

capable of mixing with the other. Now, there is no greater antithesis

than that between body and not-body. Therefore the soul, being what it

is, cannot obtain the fulfilment of its wish but by similar media,

spirits which derive their existence from the matres simplices in the

worlds called Bhûrloka, Bhuvarloka, and Svarloka. The Hindus call them

tenuous bodies over which the soul rises like the sun over the earth,

in order to distinguish them from the dense bodies which derive their

existence from the common five elements. The soul, in consequence of

this union with the media, uses them as its vehicles. Thus the image of

the sun, though he is only one, is represented in many mirrors which

are placed opposite to him, as also in the water of vessels placed

opposite. The sun is seen alike in each mirror and each vessel, and in

each of them his warming and light-giving effect is perceived.

When, now, the various bodies, being from their nature compounds of

different things, come into existence, being composed of male elements,

viz. bones, veins, and sperma, and of female elements, viz. flesh,

[Page 23.] blood, and hair, and being thus fully prepared to receive

life, then those spirits unite themselves with them, and the bodies are

to the spirits what castles or fortresses [Five winds regulating the

functions of the body.] are to the various affairs of princes. In a

farther stage of development five winds enter the bodies. By the first

and second of them the inhaling and exhaling are effected, by the third

the mixture of the victuals in the stomach, by the fourth the

locomotion of the body from one place to the other, by the fifth the

transferring of the apperception of the senses from one side of the

body to the other.

[The difference of the souls depending upon the difference of the

bodies and their interaction.] The spirits here mentioned do not,

according to the notions of the Hindus, differ from each other in

substance, but have a precisely identical nature. However, their

individual characters and manners differ in the same measure as the

bodies with which they are united differ, on account of the three

forces which are in them striving with each other for supremacy, and on

account of their harmony being disturbed by the passions of envy and

wrath.

Such, then, is the supreme highest cause of the soul’s starting off

into action.

On the other hand, the lowest cause, as proceeding [On matter seeking

the union with the soul.] from matter, is this: that matter for its

part seeks for perfection, and always prefers that which is better to

that which is less good, viz. proceeding from δύναμις into πρᾶξις. In

consequence of the vainglory and ambition which are its pith and

marrow, matter produces and shows all kinds of possibilities which it

contains to its pupil, the soul, and carries it round through all

classes of vegetable and animal beings. [Illustrations of this

particular kind of union.] Hindus compare the soul to a dancing-girl

who is clever in her art and knows well what effect each motion and

pose of hers has. She is in the presence of a sybarite most eager of

enjoying what she has learned. Now she begins to produce the various

kinds of her art one after the other under the admiring gaze of the

host, until her programme is finished and the eagerness of the

spectator has been satisfied. Then she stops suddenly, since she could

not produce anything but a repetition; and as a repetition is not

wished for, he dismisses her, and action ceases. The close of this kind

of relation is illustrated by the following simile: A caravan has been

attacked in the desert by robbers, and the members of it have fled in

all directions except a blind man and a lame man, who remain on the

spot in helplessness, despairing of their escape. After they meet and

recognise each other, the lame speaks to the blind: “I cannot move, but

I can lead the way, whilst the opposite is the case with you. Therefore

put me on your shoulder and carry me, that I may show you the way and

that we may escape together from this calamity.” This the blind man

did. They obtained their purpose by helping each other, and they left

each other on coming out of the desert.

[Action of matter rising from an innate disposition.] Further, the

Hindus speak in different ways of the agent, as we have already

mentioned. So the Vishṇu Purâṇa says: “Matter is the origin of the

world. Its action in the world rises from an innate disposition, as a

tree sows its own seed by an innate disposition, not intentionally, and

the wind cools the water though it only intends blowing. Voluntary

action is only due to Vishṇu.” By the latter expression the author

means the living being who is above matter (God). Through him matter

becomes an agent toiling for him as a friend toils for a friend without

wanting anything for himself.

On this theory Mânî has built the following sentence: “The Apostles

asked Jesus about the life of inanimate nature, whereupon he said, ‘If

that which is inanimate is separated from the living element which is

commingled with it, and appears alone by itself, it is again [Page 24.]

inanimate and is not capable of living, whilst the living element which

has left it, retaining its vital energy unimpaired, never dies.’”

[On matter as the cause of action according to the Sâṁkhya school of

philosophers.] The book of Sâṁkhya derives action from matter, for the

difference of forms under which matter appears depends upon the three

primary forces, and upon whether one or two of them gain the supremacy

over the remainder. These forces are the angelic, the human, and the

animal. The three forces belong only to matter, not to the soul. The

task of the soul is to learn the actions of matter like a spectator,

resembling a traveller who sits down in a village to repose. Each

villager is busy with his own particular work, but he looks at them and

considers their doings, disliking some, liking others, and taking an

example from them. In this way he is busy without having himself any

share in the business going on, and without being the cause which has

brought it about.

The book of Sâṁkhya brings action into relation with the soul, though

the soul has nothing to do with action, only in so far as it resembles

a man who happens to get into the company of people whom he does not

know. They are robbers returning from a village which they have sacked

and destroyed, and he has scarcely marched with them a short distance,

when they are overtaken by the avengers. The whole party are taken

prisoners, and together with them the innocent man is dragged off; and

being treated precisely as they are, he receives the same punishment,

without having taken part in their action.

People say the soul resembles the rain-water which comes down from

heaven, always the same and of the same nature. However, if it is

gathered in vessels placed for the purpose, vessels of different

materials, of gold, silver, glass, earthenware, clay, or bitter-salt

earth, it begins to differ in appearance, taste, and smell. Thus the

soul does not influence matter in any way, except in this, that it

gives matter life by being in close contact with it. When, then, matter

begins to act, the result is different, in conformity with the one of

the three primary forces which happens to preponderate, and conformably

to the mutual assistance which the other two latent forces afford to

the former. This assistance may be given in various ways, as the fresh

oil, the dry wick, and the smoking fire help each other to produce

light. The soul is in matter like the rider on a carriage, being

attended by the senses, who drive the carriage according to the rider’s

intentions. But the soul for its part is guided by the intelligence

with which it is inspired by God. This intelligence they describe as

that by which the reality of things is apprehended, which shows the way

to the knowledge of God, and to such actions as are liked and praised

by everybody.

CHAPTER V.

ON THE STATE OF THE SOULS, AND THEIR MIGRATIONS THROUGH THE WORLD IN

THE METEMPSYCHOSIS.

As the word of confession, “There is no god but God, Muḥammad is his

prophet,” is the shibboleth of Islam, the Trinity that of Christianity,

and the institute of the Sabbath that of Judaism, so metempsychosis is

the shibboleth of the Hindu religion. Therefore he who does not believe

in it does not belong to them, and is not reckoned as one of them. For

they hold the following belief:—

[Beginning, development, and ultimate result of metempsychosis.] The

soul, as long as it has not risen to the highest absolute intelligence,

does not comprehend the totality of objects at once, or, as it were, in

no time. Therefore it must explore all particular beings and examine

all the [Page 25.] possibilities of existence; and as their number is,

though not unlimited, still an enormous one, the soul wants an enormous

space of time in order to finish the contemplation of such a

multiplicity of objects. The soul acquires knowledge only by the

contemplation of the individuals and the species, and of their peculiar

actions and conditions. It gains experience from each object, and

gathers thereby new knowledge.

However, these actions differ in the same measure as the three primary

forces differ. Besides, the world is not left without some direction,

being led, as it were, by a bridle and directed towards a definite

scope. Therefore the imperishable souls wander about in perishable

bodies conformably to the difference of their actions, as they prove to

be good or bad. The object of the migration through the world of reward

(i.e. heaven) is to direct the attention of the soul to the good, that

it should become desirous of acquiring as much of it as possible. The

object of its migration through the world of punishment (i.e. hell) is

to direct its attention to the bad and abominable, that it should

strive to keep as far as possible aloof from it.

The migration begins from low stages, and rises to higher and better

ones, not the contrary, as we state on purpose, since the one is a

priori as possible as the other. The difference of these lower and

higher stages depends upon the difference of the actions, and this

again results from the quantitative and qualitative diversity of the

temperaments and the various degrees of combinations in which they

appear.

This migration lasts until the object aimed at has been completely

attained both for the soul and matter; the lower aim being the

disappearance of the shape of matter, except any such new formation as

may appear desirable; the higher aim being the ceasing of the desire of

the soul to learn what it did not know before, the insight of the soul

into the nobility of its own being and its independent existence, its

knowing that it can dispense with matter after it has become acquainted

with the mean nature of matter and the instability of its shapes, with

all that which matter offers to the senses, and with the truth of the

tales about its delights. Then the soul turns away from matter; the

connecting links are broken, the union is dissolved. Separation and

dissolution take place, and the soul returns to its home, carrying with

itself as much of the bliss of knowledge as sesame develops grains and

blossoms, afterwards never separating from its oil. The intelligent

being, intelligence and its object, are united and become one.

It is now our duty to produce from their literature [Quotations from

the book Gîtâ.] some clear testimonies as to this subject and cognate

theories of other nations.

Vâsudeva speaks to Arjuna instigating him to the battle, whilst they

stand between the two lines: “If you believe in predestination, you

must know that neither they nor we are mortal, and do not go away

without a return, for the souls are immortal and unchangeable. They

migrate through the bodies, while man changes from childhood into

youth, into manhood and infirm age, the end of which is the death of

the body. Thereafter the soul proceeds on its return.”

Further he says: “How can a man think of death and being killed who

knows that the soul is eternal, not having been born and not perishing;

that the soul [Page 26.] is something stable and constant; that no

sword can cut it, no fire burn it, no water extinguish it, and no wind

wither it? The soul migrates from its body, after it has become old,

into another, a different one, as the body, when its dress has become

old, is clad in another. What then is your sorrow about a soul which

does not perish? If it were perishable, it would be more becoming that

you should not sorrow about a thing which may be dispensed with, which

does not exist, and does not return into existence. But if you look

more to your body than to your soul, and are in anxiety about its

perishing, you must know that all that which is born dies, and that all

that which dies returns into another existence. However, both life and

death are not your concern. They are in the hands of God, from whom all

things come and to whom they return.”

In the further course of conversation Arjuna speaks to Vâsudeva: “How

did you dare thus to fight Brahman, Brahman who was before the world

was and before man was, whilst you are living among us as a being,

whose birth and age are known?”

Thereupon Vâsudeva answered: “Eternity (pre-existence) is common to

both of us and to him. How often have we lived together, when I knew

the times of our life and death, whilst they were concealed from you!

When I desire to appear in order to do some good, I array myself in a

body, since one cannot be with man except in a human shape.”

People tell a tale of a king, whose name I have forgotten, who ordered

his people after his death to bury his body on a spot where never

before had a dead person been buried. Now they sought for such a spot,

but could not find it; finally, on finding a rock projecting out of the

ocean, they thought they had found what they wanted. But then Vâsudeva

spoke unto them, “This king has been burned on this identical rock

already many times. But now do as you like; for the king only wanted to

give you a lesson, and this aim of his has now been attained.”

Vâsudeva says: “He who hopes for salvation and strives to free himself

from the world, but whose heart is not obedient to his wish, will be

rewarded for his action in the worlds of those who receive a good

reward; but he does not attain his last object on account of his

deficiency, therefore he will return to this world, and will be found

worthy of entering a new shape of a kind of beings whose special

occupation is devotion. Divine inspiration helps him to raise himself

in this new shape by degrees to that which he already wished for in the

first shape. His heart begins to comply with his wish; he is more and

more purified in the different shapes, until he at last obtains

salvation in an uninterrupted series of new births.”

Further, Vâsudeva says: “If the soul is free from matter, it is

knowing; but as long as it is clad in matter, the soul is not-knowing,

on account of the turbid nature of matter. It thinks that it is an

agent, and that the actions of the world are prepared for its sake.

Therefore it clings to them, and it is stamped with the impressions of

the senses. When, then, the soul leaves the body, the traces of the

impressions of the senses remain in it, and are not completely

eradicated, as it longs for the world of sense and returns towards it.

And since it in these stages undergoes changes entirely opposed to each

other, it is thereby subject to the influences of the three primary

forces. What, therefore, can the soul do, its wing being cut, if it is

not sufficiently trained and prepared?”

Vâsudeva says: “The best of men is the perfectly [Page 27.] wise one,

for he loves God and God loves him. How many times has he died and been

born again! During his whole life he perseveringly seeks for perfection

till he obtains it.”

[Vishṇu-Dharma.] In the Vishṇu-Dharma, Mârkaṇḍeya, speaking of the

spiritual beings, says: “Brahman, Kârttikeya, son of Mahâdeva, Lakshmî,

who produced the Amṛita, Daksha, who was beaten by Mahâdeva, Umâdevî,

the wife of Mahâdeva, each of them has been in the middle of this

kalpa, and they have been the same already many times.”

Varâhamihira speaks of the influences of the comets, and of the

calamities which befall men when they appear. These calamities compel

them to emigrate from their homes, lean from exhaustion, moaning over

their mishap, leading their children by the hand along the road, and

speaking to each other in low tones, “We are punished for the sins of

our kings;” whereupon others answer, “Not so. This is the retribution

for what we have done in the former life, before we entered these

bodies.”

[Mânî.] When Mânî was banished from Êrânshahr, he went to India,

learned metempsychosis from the Hindus, and transferred it into his own

system. He says in the Book of Mysteries: “Since the Apostles knew that

the souls are immortal, and that in their migrations they array

themselves in every form, that they are shaped in every animal, and are

cast in the mould of every figure, they asked Messiah what would be the

end of those souls which did not receive the truth nor learn the origin

of their existence. Whereupon he said, ‘Any weak soul which has not

received all that belongs to her of truth perishes without any rest or

bliss.’” By perishing Mânî means her being punished, not her total

disappearance. For in another place he says: “The partisans of

Bardesanes think that the living soul rises and is purified in the

carcase, not knowing that the latter is the enemy of the soul, that the

carcase prevents the soul from rising, that it is a prison, and a

painful punishment to the soul. If this human figure were a real

existence, its creator would not let it wear out and suffer injury, and

would not have compelled it to reproduce itself by the sperma in the

uterus.”

[Patañjali.] The following passage is taken from the book of

Patañjali:—“The soul, being on all sides tied to ignorance, which is

the cause of its being fettered, is like rice in its cover. As long as

it is there, it is capable of growing and ripening in the transition

stages between being born and giving birth itself. But if the cover is

taken off the rice, it ceases to develop in this way, and becomes

stationary. The retribution of the soul depends on the various kinds of

creatures through which it wanders, upon the extent of life, whether it

be long or short, and upon the particular kind of its happiness, be it

scanty or ample.”

The pupil asks: “What is the condition of the spirit when it has a

claim to a recompense or has committed a crime, and is then entangled

in a kind of new birth either in order to receive bliss or to be

punished?”

The master says: “It migrates according to what [Page 28.] it has

previously done, fluctuating between happiness and misfortune, and

alternately experiencing pain or pleasure.”

The pupil asks: “If a man commits something which necessitates a

retribution for him in a different shape from that in which he has

committed the thing, and if between both stages there is a great

interval of time and the matter is forgotten, what then?”

The master answers: “It is the nature of action to adhere to the

spirit, for action is its product, whilst the body is only an

instrument for it. Forgetting does not apply to spiritual matters, for

they lie outside of time, with the nature of which the notions of long

and short duration are necessarily connected. Action, by adhering to

the spirit, frames its nature and character into a condition similar to

that one into which the soul will enter on its next migration. The soul

in its purity knows this, thinks of it, and does not forget it; but the

light of the soul is covered by the turbid nature of the body as long

as it is connected with the body. Then the soul is like a man who

remembers a thing which he once knew, but then forgot in consequence of

insanity or an illness or some intoxication which overpowered his mind.

Do you not observe that little children are in high spirits when people

wish them a long life, and are sorry when people imprecate upon them a

speedy death? And what would the one thing or the other signify to

them, if they had not tasted the sweetness of life and experienced the

bitterness of death in former generations through which they had been

migrating to undergo the due course of retribution?”

[Quotations from Plato and Proclus.] The ancient Greeks agreed with the

Hindus in this belief. Socrates says in the book Phædo: “We are

reminded in the tales of the ancients that the souls go from here to

Hades, and then come from Hades to here; that the living originates

from the dead, and that altogether things originate from their

contraries. Therefore those who have died are among the living. Our

souls lead an existence of their own in Hades. The soul of each man is

glad or sorry at something, and contemplates this thing. This

impressionable nature ties the soul to the body, nails it down in the

body, and gives it, as it were, a bodily figure. The soul which is not

pure cannot go to Hades. It quits the body still filled with its

nature, and then migrates hastily into another body, in which it is, as

it were, deposited and made fast. Therefore, it has no share in the

living of the company of the unique, pure, divine essence.”

Further he says: “If the soul is an independent being, our learning is

nothing but remembering that which we had learned previously, because

our souls were in some place before they appeared in this human figure.

When people see a thing to the use of which they were accustomed in

childhood, they are under the influence of this impressionability, and

a cymbal, for instance, reminds them of the boy who used to beat it,

whom they, however, had forgotten. Forgetting is the vanishing of

knowledge, and knowing is the soul’s remembrance of that which it had

learned before it entered the body.”

Proclus says: “Remembering and forgetting are peculiar to the soul

endowed with reason. It is evident that the soul has always existed.

Hence it [Page 29.] follows that it has always been both knowing and

forgetting, knowing when it is separated from the body, forgetting when

it is in connection with the body. For, being separated from the body,

it belongs to the realm of the spirit, and therefore it is knowing; but

being connected with the body, it descends from the realm of the

spirit, and is exposed to forgetting because of some forcible influence

prevailing over it.”

[Ṣûfî doctrine.] The same doctrine is professed by those Ṣûfî who teach

that this world is a sleeping soul and yonder world a soul awake, and

who at the same time admit that God is immanent in certain places—e.g.

in heaven—in the seat and the throne of God (mentioned in the Koran).

But then there are others who admit that God is immanent in the whole

world, in animals, trees, and the inanimate world, which they call his

universal appearance. To those who hold this view, the entering of the

souls into various beings in the course of metempsychosis is of no

consequence.

CHAPTER VI.

ON THE DIFFERENT WORLDS, AND ON THE PLACES OF RETRIBUTION IN PARADISE

AND HELL.

[The three lokas.] The Hindus call the world loka. Its primary division

consists of the upper, the low, and the middle. The upper one is called

svarloka, i.e. paradise; the low, nâgaloka, i.e. the world of the

serpents, which is hell; besides they call it naraloka, and sometimes

also pâtâla, i.e. the lowest world. The middle world, that one in which

we live, is called madhyaloka and manushyaloka, i.e. the world of men.

In the latter, man has to earn, in the upper to receive his reward; in

the low, to receive punishment. A man who deserves to come to svarloka

or nâgaloka receives there the full recompense of his deeds during a

certain length of time corresponding to the duration of his deeds, but

in either of them there is only the soul, the soul free from the body.

For those who do not deserve to rise to heaven and to sink as low as

hell there is another world called tiryagloka, the irrational world of

plants and animals, through the individuals of which the soul has to

wander in the metempsychosis until it reaches the human being, rising

by degrees from the lowest kinds of the vegetable world to the highest

classes of the sensitive world. The stay of the soul in this world has

one of the following causes: either the award which is due to the soul

is not sufficient to raise it into heaven or to sink it into hell, or

the soul is in its wanderings on the way back from hell; for they

believe that a soul returning to the human world from heaven at once

adopts a human body, whilst that one which returns there from hell has

first to wander about in plants and animals before it reaches the

degree of living in a human body.

[Quotation from the Vishṇu-Purâṇa.] The Hindus speak in their

traditions of a large number of hells, of their qualities and their

names, and for each kind of sin they have a special hell. The number of

hells is 88,000 according to the Vishṇu-Purâṇa. We shall quote what

this book says on the subject:—

“The man who makes a false claim and who bears false witness, he who

helps these two and he who ridicules people, come into the Raurava

hell.

“He who sheds innocent blood, who robs others of their rights and

plunders them, and who kills cows, comes into Rodha. Those also who

strangle people come here.

“Whoso kills a Brahman, and he who steals gold, [Page 30.] and their

companions, the princes who do not look after their subjects, he who

commits adultery with the family of his teacher, or who lies down with

his mother-in-law, come into Taptakumbha.

“Whoso connives at the shame of his wife for greediness, commits

adultery with his sister or the wife of his son, sells his child, is

stingy towards himself with his property in order to save it, comes

into Mahâjwâla.

“Whoso is disrespectful to his teacher and is not pleased with him,

despises men, commits incest with animals, contemns the Veda and

Purâṇas, or tries to make a gain by means of them in the markets, comes

into Śavala.

“A man who steals and commits tricks, who opposes the straight line of

conduct of men, who hates his father, who does not like God and men,

who does not honour the gems which God has made glorious, and who

considers them to be like other stones, comes into Kṛimîśa.

“Whoso does not honour the rights of parents and grandparents, whoso

does not do his duty towards the angels, the maker of arrows and

spear-points, come to Lâlâbhaksha.

“The maker of swords and knives comes to Viśasana.

“He who conceals his property, being greedy for the presents of the

rulers, and the Brahman who sells meat or oil or butter or sauce or

wine, come to Adhomukha.

“He who rears cocks and cats, small cattle, pigs, and birds, comes to

Rudhirândha.

“Public performers and singers in the markets, those who dig wells for

drawing water, a man who cohabits with his wife on holy days, who

throws fire into the houses of men, who betrays his companion and then

receives him, being greedy for his property, come to Rudhira.

“He who takes the honey out of the beehive comes to Vaitaraṇî.

“Whoso takes away by force the property and women of others in the

intoxication of youth comes to Kṛishṇa.

“Whoso cuts down the trees comes to Asipatravana.

“The hunter, and the maker of snares and traps, come to Vahnijwâla.

“He who neglects the customs and rules, and he who violates the

laws—and he is the worst of all—come to Sandaṁśaka.”

We have given this enumeration only in order to show what kinds of

deeds the Hindus abhor as sins.

[According to some Hindus, the migration through plants and animals

takes the place of hell.] Some Hindus believe that the middle world,

that one for earning, is the human world, and that a man wanders about

in it, because he has received a reward which does not lead him into

heaven, but at the same time saves him from hell. They consider heaven

as a higher stage, where a man lives in a state of bliss which must be

of a certain duration on account of the good deeds he has done. On the

contrary, they consider the wandering about in plants and animals as a

lower stage, where a man dwells for punishment for a certain length of

time, which is thought to correspond to the wretched deeds he has done.

People who hold this view do not know of another hell, but this kind of

degradation below the degree of living as a human being.

[Page 31.]

[Moral principles of metempsychosis.] All these degrees of retribution

are necessary for this reason, that the seeking for salvation from the

fetters of matter frequently does not proceed on the straight line

which leads to absolute knowledge, but on lines chosen by guessing or

chosen because others had chosen them. Not one action of man shall be

lost, not even the last of all; it shall be brought to his account

after his good and bad actions have been balanced against each other.

The retribution, however, is not according to the deed, but according

to the intention which a man had in doing it; and a man will receive

his reward either in the form in which he lives on earth, or in that

form into which his soul will migrate, or in a kind of intermediary

state after he has left his shape and has not yet entered a new one.

Here now the Hindus quit the path of philosophical speculation and turn

aside to traditional fables as regards the two places where reward or

punishment is given, e.g. that man exists there as an incorporeal

being, and that after having received the reward of his actions he

again returns to a bodily appearance and human shape, in order to be

prepared for his further destiny. [The Sâṁkhya criticises

metempsychosis.] Therefore the author of the book Sâṁkhya does not

consider the reward of paradise a special gain, because it has an end

and is not eternal, and because this kind of life resembles the life of

this our world; for it is not free from ambition and envy, having in

itself various degrees and classes of existence, whilst cupidity and

desire do not cease save where there is perfect equality.

[Ṣûfî parallel.] The Ṣûfî, too, do not consider the stay in paradise a

special gain for another reason, because there the soul delights in

other things but the Truth, i.e. God, and its thoughts are diverted

from the Absolute Good by things which are not the Absolute Good.

[On the soul leaving the body, according to popular views.] We have

already said that, according to the belief of the Hindus, the soul

exists in these two places without a body. But this is only the view of

the educated among them, who understand by the soul an independent

being. However, the lower classes, and those who cannot imagine the

existence of the soul without a body, hold about this subject very

different views. One is this, that the cause of the agony of death is

the soul’s waiting for a shape which is to be prepared. It does not

quit the body before there has originated a cognate being of similar

functions, one of those which nature prepares either as an embryo in a

mother’s womb or as a seed in the bosom of the earth. Then the soul

quits the body in which it has been staying.

Others hold the more traditional view that the soul does not wait for

such a thing, that it quits its shape on account of its weakness whilst

another body has been prepared for it out of the elements. This body is

called ativâhika, i.e. that which grows in haste, because it does not

come into existence by being born. The soul stays in this body a

complete year in the greatest agony, no matter whether it has deserved

to be rewarded or to be punished. This is like the Barzakh of the

Persians, an intermediary stage between the periods of acting and

earning and that of receiving award. For this reason the heir of the

deceased must, according to Hindu use, fulfil the rites of the year for

the deceased, duties which end with the end of the year, for then the

soul goes to that place which is prepared for it.

[Quotations from Vishṇu Purâṇa and the Sâṁkhya school.] We shall now

give some extracts from their literature to illustrate these ideas.

First from the Vishṇu Purâṇa.

“Maitreya asked Parâśara about the purpose of hell and the punishment

in it, whereupon he answered: ‘It is for distinguishing the good from

the bad, knowledge [Page 32.] from ignorance, and for the manifestation

of justice. But not every sinner enters hell. Some of them escape hell

by previously doing works of repentance and expiation. The greatest

expiation is uninterruptedly thinking of Vishṇu in every action. Others

wander about in plants, filthy insects and birds, and abominable dirty

creeping things like lice and worms, for such a length of time as they

desire it.’”

In the book Sâṁkhya we read: “He who deserves exaltation and reward

will become like one of the angels, mixing with the hosts of spiritual

beings, not being prevented from moving freely in the heavens and from

living in the company of their inhabitants, or like one of the eight

classes of spiritual beings. But he who deserves humiliation as

recompense for sins and crimes will become an animal or a plant, and

will wander about until he deserves a reward so as to be saved from

punishment, or until he offers himself as expiation, flinging away the

vehicle of the body, and thereby attaining salvation.”

[Muslim authors on metempsychosis.] A theosoph who inclines towards

metempsychosis says: “The metempsychosis has four degrees:

“1. The transferring, i.e. the procreation as limited to the human

species, because it transfers existence from one individual to another;

the opposite of this is—

“2. The transforming, which concerns men in particular, since they are

transformed into monkeys, pigs, and elephants.

“3. A stable condition of existence, like the condition of the plants.

This is worse than transferring, because it is a stable condition of

life, remains as it is through all time, and lasts as long as the

mountains.

“4. The dispersing, the opposite of number 3, which applies to the

plants that are plucked, and to animals immolated as sacrifice, because

they vanish without leaving posterity.”

Abû-Yaʿḳûb of Sijistân maintains in his book, called “The disclosing of

that which is veiled,” that the species are preserved; that

metempsychosis always proceeds in one and the same species, never

crossing its limits and passing into another species.

[Quotations from Johannes Grammaticus and Plato.] This was also the

opinion of the ancient Greeks; for Johannes Grammaticus relates as the

view of Plato that the rational souls will be clad in the bodies of

animals, and that in this regard he followed the fables of Pythagoras.

Socrates says in the book Phædo: “The body is earthy, ponderous, heavy,

and the soul, which loves it, wanders about and is attracted towards

the place, to which it looks from fear of the shapeless and of Hades,

the gathering-place of the souls. They are soiled, and circle round the

graves and cemeteries, where souls have been seen appearing in shadowy

forms. This phantasmagoria only occurs to such souls as have not been

entirely separated, in which there is still a part of that towards

which the look is directed.”

Further he says: “It appears that these are not the souls of the good,

but the souls of the wicked, which wander about in these things to make

an expiation for the badness of their former kind of rearing. Thus they

remain until they are again bound in a body on account of the desire

for the bodily shape which has followed them. They will dwell in bodies

the character of which is like the character which they had in the

world. Whoso, e.g. only cares for eating and drinking will enter the

various kinds of asses and wild animals; and he who preferred wrong and

oppression will enter the various kinds of wolves, and falcons, and

hawks.”

Further he says about the gathering-places of the souls after death:

“If I did not think that I am [Page 33.] going first to gods who are

wise, ruling, and good, then afterwards to men, deceased ones, better

than those here, I should be wrong not to be in sorrow about death.”

Further, Plato says about the two places of reward and of punishment:

“When a man dies, a daimon, i.e. one of the guardians of hell, leads

him to the tribunal of judgment, and a guide whose special office it is

brings him, together with those assembled there, to Hades, and there he

remains the necessary number of many and long cycles of time. Telephos

says, ‘The road of Hades is an even one.’ I, however, say, ‘If the road

were even or only a single one, a guide could be dispensed with.’ Now

that soul which longs for the body, or whose deeds were evil and not

just, which resembles souls that have committed murder, flies from

there and encloses itself in every species of being until certain times

pass by. Thereupon it is brought by necessity to that place which is

suitable to it. But the pure soul finds companions and guides, gods,

and dwells in the places which are suitable to it.”

Further he says: “Those of the dead who led a middle sort of life

travel on a vessel prepared for them over Acheron. After they have

received punishment and have been purified from crime, they wash and

receive honour for the good deeds which they did according to merit.

Those, however, who had committed great sins, e.g. the stealing from

the sacrifices of the gods, robberies on a great scale, unjust killing,

repeatedly and consciously violating the laws, are thrown into

Tartarus, whence they will never be able to escape.”

Further: “Those who repented of their sins already during their

lifetime, and whose crimes were of a somewhat lower degree, who, e.g.

committed some act of violence against their parents, or committed a

murder by mistake, are thrown into Tartarus, being punished there for a

whole year; but then the wave throws them out to a place whence they

cry to their antagonists, asking them to abstain from further

retaliation, that they may be saved from the horrors of punishment. If

those now agree, they are saved; if not, they are sent back into

Tartarus. And this, their punishment, goes on until their antagonists

agree to their demands for being relieved. Those whose mode of life was

virtuous are liberated from these places on this earth. They feel as

though released from prison, and they will inhabit the pure earth.”

Tartarus is a huge deep ravine or gap into which the rivers flow. All

people understand by the punishment of hell the most dreadful things

which are known to them, and the Western countries, like Greece, have

sometimes to suffer deluges and floods. But the description of Plato

indicates a place where there are glaring flames, and it seems that he

means the sea or some part of the ocean, in which there is a whirlpool

(durdûr, a pun upon Tartarus). No doubt these descriptions represent

the belief of the men of those ages.

CHAPTER VII.

ON THE NATURE OF LIBERATION FROM THE WORLD, AND ON THE PATH LEADING

THERETO.

[First part: Moksha in general.] If the soul is bound up with the

world, and its being bound up has a certain cause, it cannot be

liberated from this bond save by the opposite of this identical cause.

Now according to the Hindus, as we have already explained (p. 55), the

reason of the bond is [Page 34.] ignorance, and therefore it can only

be liberated by knowledge, by comprehending all things in such a way as

to define them both in general and in particular, rendering superfluous

any kind of deduction and removing all doubts. For the soul

distinguishing between things (τὰ ὄντα) by means of definitions,

recognises its own self, and recognises at the same time that it is its

noble lot to last for ever, and that it is the vulgar lot of matter to

change and to perish in all kinds of shapes. Then it dispenses with

matter, and perceives that that which it held to be good and delightful

is in reality bad and painful. In this manner it attains real knowledge

and turns away from being arrayed in matter. Thereby action ceases, and

both matter and soul become free by separating from each other.

[Moksha according to Patañjali.] The author of the book of Patañjali

says: “The concentration of thought on the unity of God induces man to

notice something besides that with which he is occupied. He who wants

God, wants the good for the whole creation without a single exception

for any reason whatever; but he who occupies himself exclusively with

his own self, will for its benefit neither inhale, breathe, nor exhale

it (śvâsa and praśvâsa). When a man attains to this degree, his

spiritual power prevails over his bodily power, and then he is gifted

with the faculty of doing eight different things by which detachment is

realised; for a man can only dispense with that which he is able to do,

not with that which is outside his grasp. These eight things are:—

“1. The faculty in man of making his body so thin that it becomes

invisible to the eyes.

“2. The faculty of making the body so light that it is indifferent to

him whether he treads on thorns or mud or sand.

“3. The faculty of making his body so big that it appears in a

terrifying miraculous shape.

“4. The faculty of realising every wish.

“5. The faculty of knowing whatever he wishes.

“6. The faculty of becoming the ruler of whatever religious community

he desires.

“7. That those over whom he rules are humble and obedient to him.

“8. That all distances between a man and any far-away place vanish.”

[Ṣûfî parallel.] The terms of the Ṣûfî as to the knowing being and his

attaining the stage of knowledge come to the same effect, for they

maintain that he has two souls—an eternal one, not exposed to change

and alteration, by which he knows that which is hidden, the

transcendental world, and performs wonders; and another, a human soul,

which is liable to being changed and being born. From these and similar

views the doctrines of the Christians do not much differ.

[The different degrees of knowledge according to Patañjali.] The Hindus

say: “If a man has the faculty to perform these things, he can dispense

with them, and will reach the goal by degrees, passing through several

stages:—

“1. The knowledge of things as to their names and qualities and

distinctions, which, however, does not yet afford the knowledge of

definitions.

“2. Such a knowledge of things as proceeds as far as the definitions by

which particulars are classed under the category of universals, but

regarding which a man must still practise distinction.

“3. This distinction (viveka) disappears, and man comprehends things at

once as a whole, but within time.

“4. This kind of knowledge is raised above time, and he who has it can

dispense with names and epithets, which are only instruments of human

imperfection. In this stage the intellectus and the intelligens unite

with the intellectum, so as to be one and the same thing.”

This is what Patañjali says about the knowledge which liberates the

soul. In Sanskrit they call its liberation Moksha—i.e. the end. By the

same term they call the last contact of the eclipsed and eclipsing

bodies, or their separation in both lunar and solar eclipses, because

it is the end of the eclipse, the moment when the two luminaries which

were in contact with [Page 35.] each other separate.

According to the Hindus, the organs of the senses have been made for

acquiring knowledge, and the pleasure which they afford has been

created to stimulate people to research and investigation, as the

pleasure which eating and drinking afford to the taste has been created

to preserve the individual by means of nourishment. So the pleasure of

coitus serves to preserve the species by giving birth to new

individuals. If there were not special pleasure in these two functions,

man and animals would not practise them for these purposes.

[On knowledge according to the book Gîtâ.] In the book Gîtâ we read:

“Man is created for the purpose of knowing; and because knowing is

always the same, man has been gifted with the same organs. If man were

created for the purpose of acting, his organs would be different, as

actions are different in consequence of the difference of the three

primary forces. However, bodily nature is bent upon acting on account

of its essential opposition to knowing. Besides, it wishes to invest

action with pleasures which in reality are pains. But knowledge is such

as to leave this nature behind itself prostrated on the earth like an

opponent, and removes all darkness from the soul as an eclipse or

clouds are removed from the sun.”

[Quotation from Plato’s Phædo.] This resembles the opinion of Socrates,

who thinks that the soul “being with the body, and wishing to inquire

into something, then is deceived by the body. But by cogitations

something of its desires becomes clear to it. Therefore, its cogitation

takes place in that time when it is not disturbed by anything like

hearing, seeing, or by any pain or pleasure, when it is quite by

itself, and has as much as possible quitted the body and its

companionship. In particular, the soul of the philosopher scorns the

body, and wishes to be separate from it.”

“If we in this our life did not make use of the body, nor had anything

in common with it except in cases of necessity, if we were not

inoculated with its nature, but were perfectly free from it, we should

come near knowledge by getting rest from the ignorance of the body, and

we should become pure by knowing ourselves as far as God would permit

us. And it is only right to acknowledge that this is the truth.”

[The process of knowledge according to Gîtâ and another source.] Now we

return and continue our quotation from the book Gîtâ.

“Likewise the other organs of the senses serve for acquiring knowledge.

The knowing person rejoices in turning them to and fro on the field of

knowledge, so that they are his spies. The apprehension of the senses

is different according to time. The senses which serve the heart

perceive only that which is present. The heart reflects over that which

is present and remembers also the past. The nature takes hold of the

present, claims it for itself in the past, and prepares to wrestle with

it in future. The reason understands the nature of a thing, no regard

being had of time or date, since past and future are the same for it.

Its nearest helpers are reflection and nature; the most distant are the

five senses. When the senses bring before reflection some particular

object of knowledge, reflection cleans it from the errors of the

functions of the senses, and hands it over to reason. Thereupon reason

makes universal what was before particular, and communicates it to the

soul. Thus the soul comes to know it.”

Further, the Hindus think that a man becomes knowing in one of three

ways:—

1. By being inspired, not in a certain course of time, but at once, at

birth, and in the cradle, as, e.g. the sage Kapila, for he was born

knowing and wise.

2. By being inspired after a certain time, like the children of

Brahman, for they were inspired when they came of age.

3. By learning, and after a certain course of time, like all men who

learn when their mind ripens.

[Page 36.]

[Cupidity, wrath, and ignorance are the chief obstacles to Moksha.]

Liberation through knowledge can only be obtained by abstaining from

evil. The branches of evil are many, but we may classify them as

cupidity, wrath, and ignorance. If the roots are cut the branches will

wither. And here we have first to consider the rule of the two forces

of cupidity and wrath, which are the greatest and most pernicious

enemies of man, deluding him by the pleasure of eating and the delight

of revenge, whilst in reality they are much more likely to lead him

into pains and crimes. They make a man similar to the wild beasts and

the cattle, nay, even to the demons and devils.

Next we have to consider that man must prefer the reasoning force of

mind, by which he becomes similar to the highest angels, to the forces

of cupidity and wrath; and, lastly, that he must turn away from the

actions of the world. He cannot, however, give up these actions unless

he does away with their causes, which are his lust and ambition.

Thereby the second of the three primary forces is cut away. However,

the abstaining from action takes place in two different ways:—

1. By laziness, procrastination, and ignorance according to the third

force. This mode is not desirable, for it will lead to a blamable end.

2. By judicious selection and by preferring that which is better to

that which is good, which way leads to a laudable end.

The abstaining from actions is rendered perfect in this way, that a man

quits anything that might occupy him and shuts himself up against it.

Thereby he will be enabled to restrain his senses from extraneous

objects to such a degree that he does not any more know that there

exists anything besides himself, and be enabled to stop all motions,

and even the breathing. It is evident that a greedy man strains to

effect his object, the man who strains becomes tired, and the tired man

pants; so the panting is the result of greediness. If this greediness

is removed, the breathing becomes like the breathing of a being living

at the bottom of the sea, that does not want breath; and then the heart

quietly rests on one thing, viz. the search for liberation and for

arriving at the absolute unity.

[Further quotations from Gîtâ.] In the book Gîtâ we read: “How is a man

to obtain liberation who disperses his heart and does not concentrate

it alone upon God, who does not exclusively direct his action towards

him? But if a man turns away his cogitation from all other things and

concentrates it upon the One, the light of his heart will be steady

like the light of a lamp filled with clean oil, standing in a corner

where no wind makes it flicker, and he will be occupied in such a

degree as not to perceive anything that gives pain, like heat or cold,

knowing that everything besides the One, the Truth, is a vain phantom.”

In the same book we read: “Pain and pleasure have no effect on the real

world, just as the continuous flow of the streams to the ocean does not

affect its water. How could anybody ascend this mountain pass save him

who has conquered cupidity and wrath and rendered them inert?”

On account of what we have explained it is necessary that cogitation

should be continuous, not in any way to be defined by number; for a

number always denotes repeated times, and repeated times presuppose a

break in the cogitation occurring between two consecutive times. This

would interrupt the continuity, and would prevent cogitation becoming

united with the object of cogitation. And this is not the object kept

in view, which is, on the contrary, the continuity of cogitation.

This goal is attained either in a single shape, i.e. a single stage of

metempsychosis, or in several shapes, in this way, that a man

perpetually practises virtuous behaviour and accustoms the soul

thereto, so that this virtuous behaviour becomes to it a nature and an

essential quality.

Virtuous behaviour is that which is described by [The nine commandments

of the Hindu religion.] the religious law. Its principal laws, from

which they derive many secondary ones, may be summed up in the

following nine rules:—

1. A man shall not kill.

2. Nor lie.

3. Nor steal.

4. Nor whore.

[Page 37.] 5. Nor hoard up treasures.

6. He is perpetually to practise holiness and purity.

7. He is to perform the prescribed fasting without an interruption and

to dress poorly.

8. He is to hold fast to the adoration of God with praise and thanks.

9. He is always to have in mind the word ôm, the word of creation,

without pronouncing it.

The injunction to abstain from killing as regards animals (No. 1) is

only a special part of the general order to abstain from doing anything

hurtful. Under this head falls also the robbing of another man’s goods

(No. 3), and the telling lies (No. 2), not to mention the foulness and

baseness of so doing.

The abstaining from hoarding up (No. 5) means that a man is to give up

toil and fatigue; that he who seeks the bounty of God feels sure that

he is provided for; and that, starting from the base slavery of

material life, we may, by the noble liberty of cogitation, attain

eternal bliss.

Practising purity (No. 6) implies that a man knows the filth of the

body, and that he feels called upon to hate it, and to love cleanness

of soul. Tormenting oneself by poor dress (No. 7) means that a man

should reduce the body, allay its feverish desires, and sharpen its

senses. Pythagoras once said to a man who took great care to keep his

body in a flourishing condition and to allow it everything it desired,

“Thou art not lazy in building thy prison and making thy fetter as

strong as possible.”

The holding fast to meditation on God and the angels means a kind of

familiar intercourse with them. The book Sâṁkhya says: “Man cannot go

beyond anything in the wake of which he marches, it being a scope to

him (i.e. thus engrossing his thoughts and detaining him from

meditation on God).” The book Gîtâ says: “All that which is the object

of a man’s continuous meditating and bearing in mind is stamped upon

him, so that he even unconsciously is guided by it. Since, now, the

time of death is the time of remembering what we love, the soul on

leaving the body is united with that object which we love, and is

changed into it.”

However, the reader must not believe that it is only the union of the

soul with any forms of life that perish and return into existence that

is perfect liberation, for the [Quotations from Gîtâ.] same book, Gîtâ,

says: “He who knows when dying that God is everything, and that from

him everything proceeds, is liberated, though his degree be lower than

that of the saints.”

The same book says: “Seek deliverance from this world by abstaining

from any connection with its follies, by having sincere intentions in

all actions and when making offerings by fire to God, without any

desire for reward and recompense; further, by keeping aloof from

mankind.” The real meaning of all this is that you should not prefer

one because he is your friend to another because he is your enemy, and

that you should beware of negligence in sleeping when others are awake,

and in waking when others are asleep; for this, too, is a kind of being

absent from them, though outwardly you are present with them. Further:

“Seek deliverance by guarding soul from soul, for the soul is an enemy

if it be addicted to lusts; but what an excellent friend it is when it

is chaste!”

[Greek and Ṣûfî parallels.] Socrates, caring little for his impending

death and being glad at the prospect of coming to his Lord, said: “My

degree must not be considered by any one of you lower than that of the

swan,” of which people say that it is the bird of Apollo, the sun, and

that it therefore knows what is hidden; that is, when feeling that it

will soon die, sings more and more melodies from joy at the prospect of

coming to its Lord. “At least my joy at my prospect of coming to the

object of my adoration must not be less than the joy of this bird.”

For similar reasons the Ṣûfî define love as being engrossed by the

creature to the exclusion of God.

[Second part: The practical path leading to Moksha according to

Patañjali, Vishṇu-Dharma, and Gîtâ.] In the book of Patañjali we read:

“We divide the path of liberation into three parts:—

“I. The practical one (kriyâ-yoga), a process of habituating the senses

in a gentle way to detach themselves from the external world, and to

concentrate themselves upon the internal one, so that they exclusively

occupy themselves with God. This is in general the path of [Page 38.]

him who does not desire anything save what is sufficient to sustain

life.”

In the book Vishṇu-Dharma we read: “The king Parîksha, of the family of

Bhṛigu, asked Śatânîka, the head of an assembly of sages, who stayed

with him, for the explanation of some notion regarding the deity, and

by way of answer the sage communicated what he had heard from Śaunaka,

Śaunaka from Uśanas, and Uśanas from Brahman, as follows: ‘God is

without first and without last; he has not been born from anything, and

he has not borne anything save that of which it is impossible to say

that it is He, and just as impossible to say that it is Not-he. How

should I be able to ponder on the absolute good which is an outflow of

his benevolence, and of the absolute bad which is a product of his

wrath; and how could I know him so as to worship him as is his due,

save by turning away from the world in general and by occupying myself

exclusively with him, by perpetually cogitating on him?’

“It was objected to him: ‘Man is weak and his life is a trifling

matter. He can hardly bring himself to abstain from the necessities of

life, and this prevents him from walking on the path of liberation. If

we were living in the first age of mankind, when life extended to

thousands of years, and when the world was good because of the

non-existence of evil, we might hope that that which is necessary on

this path should be done. But since we live in the last age, what,

according to your opinion, is there in this revolving world that might

protect him against the floods of the ocean and save him from

drowning?’

“Thereupon Brahman spoke: ‘Man wants nourishment, shelter, and

clothing. Therefore in them there is no harm to him. But happiness is

only to be found in abstaining from things besides them, from

superfluous and fatiguing actions. Worship God, him alone, and venerate

him; approach him in the place of worship with presents like perfumes

and flowers; praise him and attach your heart to him so that it never

leaves him. Give alms to the Brahmans and to others, and vow to God

vows—special ones, like the abstaining from meat; general ones, like

fasting. Vow to him animals which you must not hold to be something

different from yourselves, so as to feel entitled to kill them. Know

that he is everything. Therefore, whatever you do, let it be for his

sake; and if you enjoy anything of the vanities of the world, do not

forget him in your intentions. If you aim at the fear of God and the

faculty of worshipping him, thereby you will obtain liberation, not by

anything else.’”

The book Gîtâ says: “He who mortifies his lust does not go beyond the

necessary wants; and he who is content with that which is sufficient

for the sustaining of life will not be ashamed nor be despised.”

The same book says: “If man is not without wants as regards the demands

of human nature, if he wants nourishment to appease thereby the heat of

hunger and exhaustion, sleep in order to meet the injurious influences

of fatiguing motions and a couch to rest upon, let the latter be clean

and smooth, everywhere equally high above the ground and sufficiently

large that he may stretch out his body upon it. Let him have a place of

temperate climate, not hurtful by cold nor by heat, and where he is

safe against the approach of reptiles. All this helps him to sharpen

the functions of his heart, that he may without any interruption

concentrate his cogitation on the unity. For all things besides the

necessities of life in the way of eating and clothing are pleasures of

a kind which, in reality, are disguised pains. To acquiesce in them is

impossible, and would end in the gravest inconvenience. There is

pleasure only to him who kills the two intolerable [Page 39.] enemies,

lust and wrath, already during his life and not when he dies, who

derives his rest and bliss from within, not from without; and who, in

the final result, is able altogether to dispense with his senses.”

Vâsudeva spoke to Arjuna: “If you want the absolute good, take care of

the nine doors of thy body, and know what is going in and out through

them. Constrain thy heart from dispersing its thoughts, and quiet thy

soul by thinking of the upper membrane of the child’s brain, which is

first soft, and then is closed and becomes strong, so that it would

seem that there were no more need of it. Do not take perception of the

senses for anything but the nature immanent in their organs, and

therefore beware of following it.”

[The path of renunciation as the second part of the path of liberation

according to Gîtâ.] II. The second part of the path of liberation is

renunciation (the via omissionis), based on the knowledge of the evil

which exists in the changing things of creation and their vanishing

shapes. In consequence the heart shuns them, the longing for them

ceases, and a man is raised above the three primary forces which are

the cause of actions and of their diversity. For he who accurately

understands the affairs of the world knows that the good ones among

them are evil in reality, and that the bliss which they afford changes

in the course of recompense into pains. Therefore he avoids everything

which might aggravate his condition of being entangled in the world,

and which might result in making him stay in the world for a still

longer period.

The book Gîtâ says: “Men err in what is ordered and what is forbidden.

They do not know how to distinguish between good and evil in actions.

Therefore, giving up acting altogether and keeping aloof from it, this

is the action.”

The same book says: “The purity of knowledge is high above the purity

of all other things, for by knowledge ignorance is rooted out and

certainty is gained in exchange for doubt, which is a means of torture,

for there is no rest for him who doubts.”

It is evident from this that the first part of the path of liberation

is instrumental to the second one.

[Worship as the third part of the path of liberation according to

Gîtâ.] III. The third part of the path of liberation which is to be

considered as instrumental to the preceding two is worship, for this

purpose, that God should help a man to obtain liberation, and deign to

consider him worthy of such a shape of existence in the metempsychosis

in which he may effect his progress towards beatitude.

The author of the book Gîtâ distributes the duties of worship among the

body, the voice, and the heart.

What the body has to do is fasting, prayer, the fulfilment of the law,

the service towards the angels and the sages among the Brahmans,

keeping clean the body, keeping aloof from killing under all

circumstances, and never looking at another man’s wife and other

property.

What the voice has to do is the reciting of the holy texts, praising

God, always to speak the truth, to address people mildly, to guide

them, and to order them to do good.

What the heart has to do is to have straight, honest intentions, to

avoid haughtiness, always to be patient, to keep your senses under

control, and to have a cheerful mind.

[On Rasâyana as a path leading to Moksha.] The author (Patañjali) adds

to the three parts of the path of liberation a fourth one of an

illusory nature, called Rasâyana, consisting of alchemistic tricks with

various drugs, intended to realise things which by nature are

impossible. We shall speak of these things afterwards (vide chap.

xvii.). They have no other relation to the theory of Moksha but this,

that also in the tricks of Rasâyana everything depends upon the

intention, the well-understood determination to carry them out, this

determination resting on the firm belief in them, and resulting in the

endeavour to realise them.

[On the nature of Moksha itself.] According to the Hindus, liberation

is union with God; for they describe God as a being who can dispense

with hoping for a recompense or with fearing opposition, unattainable

to thought, because he is sublime beyond all unlikeness which is

abhorrent and all likeness which is sympathetic, knowing himself not by

a knowledge which comes to him like an accident, regarding something

which had not in every phase before been known to him. And this same

description the Hindus apply to the liberated one, for he is equal to

God in all these things except in the matter of beginning, since he has

not existed from all eternity, and except this, that before liberation

he existed in the world of entanglement, knowing the objects of

knowledge only by a phantasmagoric kind of knowing which he had

acquired by absolute exertion, whilst the object of his [Page 40.]

knowing is still covered, as it were, by a veil. On the contrary, in

the world of liberation all veils are lifted, all covers taken off, and

obstacles removed. There the being is absolutely knowing, not desirous

of learning anything unknown, separated from the soiled perceptions of

the senses, united with the everlasting ideas. [Quotations from

Patañjali.] Therefore in the end of the book of Patañjali, after the

pupil has asked about the nature of liberation, the master says: “If

you wish, say, Liberation is the cessation of the functions of the

three forces, and their returning to that home whence they had come. Or

if you wish, say, It is the return of the soul as a knowing being into

its own nature.”

The two men, pupil and master, disagree regarding him who has arrived

at the stage of liberation. The [From Sâṁkhya.] anchorite asks in the

book of Sâṁkhya, “Why does not death take place when action ceases?”

The sage replies, “Because the cause of the separation is a certain

condition of the soul whilst the spirit is still in the body. Soul and

body are separated by a natural condition which severs their union.

Frequently when the cause of an effect has already ceased or

disappeared, the effect itself still goes on for a certain time,

slackening, and by and by decreasing, till in the end it ceases

totally; e.g. the silk-weaver drives round his wheel with his mallet

until it whirls round rapidly, then he leaves it; however, it does not

stand still, though the mallet that drove it round has been removed;

the motion of the wheel decreases by little and little, and finally it

ceases. It is the same case with the body. After the action of the body

has ceased, its effect is still lasting until it arrives, through the

various stages of motion and of rest, at the cessation of physical

force and of the effect which had originated from preceding causes.

Thus liberation is finished when the body has been completely

prostrated.”

[From Patañjali.] In the book of Patañjali there is a passage which

expresses similar ideas. Speaking of a man who restrains his senses and

organs of perception, as the turtle draws in its limbs when it is

afraid, he says that “he is not fettered, because the fetter has been

loosened, and he is not liberated, because his body is still with him.”

There is, however, another passage in the same book which does not

agree with the theory of liberation as expounded above. He says: “The

bodies are the snares of the souls for the purpose of acquiring

recompense. He who arrives at the stage of liberation has acquired, in

his actual form of existence, the recompense for all the doings of the

past. Then he ceases to labour to acquire a title to a recompense in

the future. He frees himself from the snare; he can dispense with the

particular form of his existence, and moves in it quite freely without

being ensnared by it. He has even the faculty of moving wherever he

likes, and if he like, he might rise above the face of death. For the

thick, cohesive bodies cannot oppose an obstacle to his form of

existence (as, e.g. a mountain could not prevent him from passing

through). How, then, could his body oppose an obstacle to his soul?”

[Ṣûfî parallels.] Similar views are also met with among the Ṣûfî. Some

Ṣûfî author relates the following story: “A company of Ṣûfî came down

unto us, and sat down at some distance from us. Then one of them rose,

prayed, and on having finished his prayer, turned towards me and spoke:

‘O master, do you know here a place fit for us to die on?’ Now I

thought he meant sleeping, and so I pointed out to him a place. The man

went there, threw himself on the back of his head, and remained

motionless. Now I rose, went to him and shook him, but lo! he was

already cold.”

The Ṣûfî explains the Koranic verse, “We have [Page 41.] made room for

him on earth” (Sûra 18, 83), in this way: “If he wishes, the earth

rolls itself up for him; if he wishes, he can walk on the water and in

the air, which offer him sufficient resistance so as to enable him to

walk, whilst the mountains do not offer him any resistance when he

wants to pass through them.”

Alberuni's India (Volume 1 of 2) · 第 80 / 85 章