The Logicians, moreover, are unable to give a definition of such a thing
as 'difference.' Difference cannot in the first place be the essential
nature (of that which differs); for from that it would follow that on
the apprehension of the essential nature of a thing there would at once
arise not only the judgment as to that essential nature but also
judgments as to its difference from everything else.--But, it may be
objected to this, even when the essential nature of a thing is
apprehended, the judgment 'this thing is different from other things'
depends on the remembrance of its counterentities, and as long as this
remembrance does not take place so long the judgment of difference is
not formed!--Such reasoning, we reply, is inadmissible. He who maintains
that 'difference' is nothing but 'essential nature' has no right to
assume a dependence on counterentities since, according to him,
essential nature and difference are the same, i.e. nothing but essential
nature: the judgment of difference can, on his view, depend on
counterentities no more than the judgment of essential nature does. His
view really implies that the two words 'the jar' and 'different' (in the
judgment 'the jar is different') are synonymous, just as the words
'hasta' and 'kara' are (both of which mean 'hand').
Nor, in the second place, can 'difference' be held to be an attribute
(dharma). For if it were that, we should have to assume that
'difference' possesses difference (i.e. is different) from essential
nature; for otherwise it would be the same as the latter. And this
latter difference would have to be viewed as an attribute of the first
difference, and this would lead us on to a third difference, and so in
infinitum. And the view of 'difference' being an attribute would further
imply that difference is apprehended on the apprehension of a thing
distinguished by attributes such as generic character and so on, and at
the same time that the thing thus distinguished is apprehended on the
apprehension of difference; and this would constitute a logical seesaw.--
'Difference' thus showing itself incapable of logical definition, we are
confirmed in our view that perception reveals mere 'Being' only.
Moreover, it appears that in states of consciousness such as 'Here is a
jar,' 'There is a piece of cloth,' 'The jar is perceived,' 'The piece of
cloth is perceived,' that which constitutes the things is Being
(existence; sattâ) and perception (or 'consciousness'; anubhûti). And we
observe that it is pure Being only which persists in all states of
cognition: this pure Being alone, therefore, is _real_. The differences,
on the other hand, which do not persist, are unreal. The case is
analogous to that of the snake-rope. The rope which persists as a
substrate is real, while the non-continuous things (which by wrong
imagination are superimposed on the rope) such as a snake, a cleft in
the ground, a watercourse, and so on, are unreal.
But--our adversary objects--the instance is not truly analogous. In the
case of the snake-rope the non-reality of the snake results from the
snake's being sublated (bâdhita) by the cognition of the true nature of
the substrate 'This is a rope, not a snake'; it does not result from the
non-continuousness of the snake. In the same way the reality of the rope
does not follow from its persistence, but from the fact of its being not
sublated (by another cognition). But what, we ask, establishes the
non-reality of jars and pieces of cloth?--All are agreed, we reply, that
we observe, in jars and similar things, individual difference
(vyâvritti, literally 'separation,' 'distinction'). The point to decide
is of what nature such difference is. Does it not mean that the judgment
'This is a jar' implies the negation of pieces of cloth and other
things? But this means that by this judgment pieces of cloth and other
things are sublated (bâdhita). Individual difference (vyâvritti) thus
means the cessation (or absence), due to sublation, of certain objects
of cognition, and it proves the non-reality of whatever has
non-continuous existence; while on the other hand, pure Being, like the
rope, persists non-sublated. Hence everything that is additional to pure
Being is non-real.--This admits of being expressed in technical form.
'Being' is real because it persists, as proved by the case of the rope
in the snake-rope; jars and similar things are non-real because they are
non-continuous, as proved by the case of the snake that has the rope for
its substrate.
From all this it follows that persisting consciousness only has real
being; it alone is.
Being and consciousness are one. Consciousness is svayamprakâsa.
But, our adversary objects, as mere Being is the object of consciousness,
it is different therefrom (and thus there exists after all 'difference'
or 'plurality').--Not so, we reply. That there is no such thing as
'difference,' we have already shown above on the grounds that it is not
the object of perception, and moreover incapable of definition. It
cannot therefore be proved that 'Being' is the object of consciousness.
Hence Consciousness itself is 'Being'--that which is.--This
consciousness is self-proved, just because it is consciousness. Were it
proved through something else, it would follow that like jars and
similar things it is not consciousness. Nor can there be assumed, for
consciousness, the need of another act of consciousness (through which
its knowledge would be established); for it shines forth (prakâsate)
through its own being. While it exists, consciousness--differing therein
from jars and the like--is never observed not to shine forth, and it
cannot therefore be held to depend, in its shining forth, on something
else.--You (who object to the above reasoning) perhaps hold the
following view:--even when consciousness has arisen, it is the object
only which shines forth--a fact expressed in sentences such as: the jar
is perceived. When a person forms the judgment 'This is a jar,' he is
not at the time conscious of a consciousness which is not an object and
is not of a definite character. Hence the existence of consciousness is
the reason which brings about the 'shining forth' of jars and other
objects, and thus has a similar office as the approximation of the
object to the eye or the other organs of sense (which is another
condition of perceptive consciousness). After this the existence of
consciousness is inferred on the ground that the shining forth of the
object is (not permanent, but) occasional only [FOOTNOTE 34:1]. And
should this argumentation be objected to on the ground of its implying
that consciousness--which is essentially of the nature of intelligence--
is something non-intelligent like material things, we ask you to define
this negation of non-intelligence (which you declare to be
characteristic of consciousness). Have we, perhaps, to understand by it
the invariable concomitance of existence and shining forth? If so, we
point out that this invariable concomitance is also found in the case of
pleasure and similar affections; for when pleasure and so on exist at
all, they never are non-perceived (i.e. they exist in so far only as we
are conscious of them). It is thus clear that we have no consciousness
of consciousness itself--just as the tip of a finger, although touching
other things, is incapable of touching itself.
All this reasoning, we reply, is entirely spun out of your own fancy,
without any due consideration of the power of consciousness. The fact is,
that in perceiving colour and other qualities of things, we are not
aware of a 'shining forth' as an attribute of those things, and as
something different from consciousness; nor can the assumption of an
attribute of things called 'light,' or 'shining forth,' be proved in any
way, since the entire empirical world itself can be proved only through
consciousness, the existence of which we both admit. Consciousness,
therefore, is not something which is inferred or proved through some
other act of knowledge; but while proving everything else it is proved
by itself. This may be expressed in technical form as follows--
Consciousness is, with regard to its attributes and to the empirical
judgments concerning it, independent of any other thing, because through
its connexion with other things it is the cause of their attributes and
the empirical judgments concerning them. For it is a general principle
that of two things that which through its connexion with the other is
the cause of the attributes of--and the empirical judgments about--the
latter, is itself independent of that other as to those two points. We
see e.g. that colour, through its conjunction with earth and the like,
produces in them the quality of visibility, but does not itself depend
for its visibility on conjunction with colour. Hence consciousness is
itself the cause of its own 'shining forth,' as well as of the
empirically observed shining forth of objects such as jars and the like.
Consciousness is eternal and incapable of change.
This self-luminous consciousness, further, is eternal, for it is not
capable of any form of non-existence--whether so--called antecedent
non-existence or any other form. This follows from its being
self-established. For the antecedent non-existence of self-established
consciousness cannot be apprehended either through consciousness or
anything else. If consciousness itself gave rise to the apprehension of
its own non-existence, it could not do so in so far as 'being,' for that
would contradict its being; if it is, i.e. if its non-existence is not,
how can it give rise to the idea of its non-existence? Nor can it do so
if not being; for if consciousness itself is not, how can it furnish a
proof for its own non-existence? Nor can the non-existence of
consciousness be apprehended through anything else; for consciousness
cannot be the object of anything else. Any instrument of knowledge
proving the non-existence of consciousness, could do so only by making
consciousness its object--'this is consciousness'; but consciousness, as
being self-established, does not admit of that objectivation which is
implied in the word 'this,' and hence its previous non-existence cannot
be proved by anything lying outside itself.
As consciousness thus does not admit of antecedent non-existence, it
further cannot be held to originate, and hence also all those other
states of being which depend on origination cannot be predicated of it.
As consciousness is beginningless, it further does not admit of any
plurality within itself; for we observe in this case the presence of
something which is contrary to what invariably accompanies plurality
(this something being 'beginninglessness' which is contrary to the
quality of having a beginning--which quality invariably accompanies
plurality). For we never observe a thing characterised by plurality to
be without a beginning.--And moreover difference, origination, &c., are
objects of consciousness, like colour and other qualities, and hence
cannot be attributes of consciousness. Therefore, consciousness being
essentially consciousness only, nothing else that is an object of
consciousness can be its attribute. The conclusion is that consciousness
is free from difference of any kind.
The apparent difference between Consciousness and the conscious subject
is due to the unreal ahamkâra.
From this it further follows that there is no substrate of
consciousness--different from consciousness itself--such as people
ordinarily mean when speaking of a 'knower.' It is self-luminous
consciousness itself which constitutes the so-called 'knower.' This
follows therefrom also that consciousness is not non-intelligent (jada);
for non-intelligence invariably accompanies absence of Selfhood
(anâtmatva); hence, non-intelligence being absent in consciousness,
consciousness is not non-Self, that means, it is the Self.
But, our adversary again objects, the consciousness which expresses
itself in the judgment 'I know,' proves that the quality of being a
'knower' belongs to consciousness!--By no means, we reply. The
attribution to consciousness of this quality rests on error, no less
than the attribution, to the shell, of the quality of being silver.
Consciousness cannot stand in the relation of an agent toward itself:
the attribute of being a knowing agent is erroneously imputed to it--an
error analogous to that expressed in the judgment 'I am a man,' which
identifies the Self of a person with the outward aggregate of matter
that bears the external characteristics of humanity. To be a 'knower'
means to be the agent in the action of knowing; and this is something
essentially changeful and non-intelligent (jada), having its abode in
the ahamkâra, which is itself a thing subject to change. How, on the
other hand, could such agency possibly belong to the changeless
'witness' (of all change, i.e. consciousness) whose nature is pure Being?
That agency cannot be an attribute of the Self follows therefrom also
that, like colour and other qualities, agency depends, for its own proof,
on seeing, i.e. consciousness.
That the Self does not fall within the sphere (is not an object of), the
idea of 'I' is proved thereby also that in deep sleep, swoon, and
similar states, the idea of the 'I' is absent, while the consciousness
of the Self persists. Moreover, if the Self were admitted to be an agent
and an object of the idea of 'I,' it would be difficult to avoid the
conclusion that like the body it is non-intelligent, something merely
outward ('being for others only, not for itself') and destitute of
Selfhood. That from the body, which is the object of the idea of 'I,'
and known to be an agent, there is different that Self which enjoys the
results of the body's actions, viz. the heavenly word, and so on, is
acknowledged by all who admit the validity of the instruments of
knowledge; analogously, therefore, we must admit that different from the
knower whom we understand by the term 'I,' is the 'witnessing' inward
Self. The non-intelligent ahamkâra thus merely serves to manifest the
nature of non-changing consciousness, and it effects this by being its
abode; for it is the proper quality of manifesting agents to manifest
the objects manifested, in so far as the latter abide in them. A mirror,
e.g., or a sheet of water, or a certain mass of matter, manifests a face
or the disc of the moon (reflected in the mirror or water) or the
generic character of a cow (impressed on the mass of matter) in so far
as all those things abide in them.--In this way, then, there arises the
erroneous view that finds expression in the judgment 'I know.'--Nor must
you, in the way of objection, raise the question how self-luminous
consciousness is to be manifested by the non-intelligent ahamkâra, which
rather is itself manifested by consciousness; for we observe that the
surface of the hand, which itself is manifested by the rays of sunlight
falling on it, at the same time manifests those rays. This is clearly
seen in the case of rays passing through the interstices of network; the
light of those rays is intensified by the hand on which they fall, and
which at the same time is itself manifested by the rays.
It thus appears that the 'knowing agent,' who is denoted by the 'I,' in
the judgment 'I know,' constitutes no real attribute of the Self, the
nature of which is pure intelligence. This is also the reason why the
consciousness of Egoity does not persist in the states of deep sleep and
final release: in those states this special form of consciousness passes
away, and the Self appears in its true nature, i.e. as pure
consciousness. Hence a person who has risen from deep, dreamless sleep
reflects, 'Just now I was unconscious of myself.'
Summing up of the pûrvapaksha view.
As the outcome of all this, we sum up our view as follows.--Eternal,
absolutely non-changing consciousness, whose nature is pure
non-differenced intelligence, free from all distinction whatever, owing
to error illusorily manifests itself (vivarttate) as broken up into
manifold distinctions--knowing subjects, objects of knowledge, acts of
knowledge. And the purpose for which we enter on the consideration of
the Vedânta-texts is utterly to destroy what is the root of that error,
i.e. Nescience, and thus to obtain a firm knowledge of the oneness of
Brahman, whose nature is mere intelligence--free, pure, eternal.
[FOOTNOTE 22:1. In agreement with the use made of this passage by the
Pûrvapakshin, vijñâna must here be understood in the sense of avidyâ.
Vijñânasabdena vividham jñâyate-neneti karanavyutpattyâ-vidyâ-bhidhiyate.
Sru. Pra.]
[FOOTNOTE 25:1. The distinction is illustrated by the different views
Perception and Inference cause us to take of the nature of the flame of
the lamp. To Perception the flame, as long as it burns, seems one and
the same: but on the ground of the observation that the different
particles of the wick and the oil are consumed in succession, we infer
that there are many distinct flames succeeding one another. And we
accept the Inference as valid, and as sublating or refuting the
immediate perception, because the perceived oneness of the flame admits
of being accounted for 'otherwise,' viz. on the ground of the many
distinct flames originating in such rapid succession that the eye
mistakes them for one. The inference on the other hand does not admit of
being explained in another way.]
[FOOTNOTE 26:1. The reference is to the point discussed Pû. Mî. Sû. VI,
5, 54 (Jaim. Nyâ. Mâlâ Vistara, p. 285).]
[FOOTNOTE 27:1. The texts which deny all qualities of Brahman are later
in order than the texts which refer to Brahman as qualified, because
denial presupposes that which is to be denied.]
[FOOTNOTE 27:2. The unity of purport of the sentence is inferred from
its constituent words having the same case-ending.]
[FOOTNOTE 30:1. The theory here referred to is held by some of the
Mîmâmsakas. The imperative forms of the verb have their primary meaning,
i.e. the power of originating action, only in Vedic sentences which
enjoin the performance of certain actions for the bringing about of
certain ends: no other means of knowledge but the Veda informing us that
such ends can be accomplished by such actions. Nobody, e.g. would offer
a soma sacrifice in order to obtain the heavenly world, were he not told
by the Veda to do so. In ordinary life, on the other hand, no imperative
possesses this entirely unique originative force, since any action which
may be performed in consequence of a command may be prompted by other
motives as well: it is, in technical Indian language, established
already, apart from the command, by other means of knowledge. The man
who, e.g. is told to milk a cow might have proceeded to do so, apart
from the command, for reasons of his own. Imperatives in ordinary speech
are therefore held not to have their primary meaning, and this
conclusion is extended, somewhat unwarrantably one should say, to all
the words entering into an imperative clause.]
[FOOTNOTE 34:1. Being not permanent but occasional, it is an effect only,
and as such must have a cause.]