IV

As philosophy tends to emphasise unduly the importance of abstract

ideas and logical inferences and forgets to keep itself constantly

in touch with the actual world of experience, the Buddha, as I have

repeatedly stated, flatly refused to subscribe to theorisation (_takka_

or _vitakka_) at the expense of practical discipline. Enlightenment was

the fruit of such discipline, and the dispelling of Ignorance could not

be effected by any other means. If the Buddha could be said to have had

any system of thought governing the whole trend of his teaching, it

was what we may call radical empiricism. By this I mean that he took

life and the world as they were and did not try to read them according

to his own interpretation. Theorists may say this is impossible, for

we put our subjectivity into every act of perception and what we

call an objective world is really a reconstruction of our innate ideas.

Epistemologically this may be so, but spiritually a state of perfect

freedom is obtained only when all our egoistic thoughts are not read

into life and the world is accepted as it is as a mirror reflects a

flower as flower and the moon as moon. When therefore I say Buddhism

is radical empiricism, this is not to be understood epistemologically

but spiritually. This is really the meaning of “yathābhūtam” or

“yathātatham”—the term quite frequently used in the Buddhist canon and

in fact forming a most important refrain of Buddhist thought.

In the _Sāmañña-phala Sutta_, in the Dīgha-Nikāya, we are told in an

ascending scale what the ultimate fruits of Buddhist life are, and the

scale terminates in the “yathābhūtam” acceptance of the world:

“With his heart thus serene, made pure, translucent, cultured, devoid

of evil, supple, ready to act, firm, and imperturbable, he directs

and bends down to the knowledge of the destruction of the Defilements

(_āsavā_). He knows as it really is: ‘This is pain.’ He knows as it

really is: ‘This is the origin of pain.’ He knows as it really is:

‘This is the cessation of pain.’ He knows as it really is: ‘This is

the path that leads to the cessation of pain.’ He knows as they really

are: ‘These are the Defilements.’ He knows as it really is: ‘This is

the origin of the Defilements.’ He knows as it really is: ‘This is the

cessation of the Defilements.’ He knows as it really is: ‘This is the

path that leads to the cessation of the Defilements.’ To him, thus

knowing, thus seeing, the heart is set free from the Defilement of

Lusts (_kāma_), is set free from the Defilement of Existence (_bhāva_),

is set free from the Defilement of Ignorance (_avijjā_). In him, thus

set free, there arises the knowledge of his emancipation, and he knows:

‘Rebirth has been destroyed. The higher life has been fulfilled. What

had to be done has been accomplished. After this present life there

will be no beyond!’”

How shall we understand this? As in the case of the Twelve Nidanas,

the Fourfold Noble Truth will surely fail to yield up its deepest

signification when we approach it intellectually. For it is

no more than a restatement of the dogma of dependent origination,

however different in form, the same principle is asserted both in the

Paṭicca-samuppāda and in the Ariya-sacca. The latter points out the

practical method of escape from the fetters of karma while the former

draws out in view the plans of its _modus operandi_. As concepts, both

formulas remain just what they are, that is, effectless and inefficient

to produce a spiritual revolution. The Buddha’s idea of formulating the

Fourfold Truth was to see it practically applied to the realisation of

an ideal. The elaborate mental discipline which is explained in the

previous parts of the _Sāmañña-phala_ is but preparatory to this final

catastrophe. Without a serene, pure, and firm heart, the truth can

never be grasped as it really is. A keen, penetrating intellect may

know of the truth and discourse about it, but as to its realisation in

life a disciplined mind is required.

The passages above quoted are intelligible only when they are seen

in the light of spiritual life. Buddhism may be logical, but if we

fail to perceive anything further than that we sorely distort it. The

logicality of Buddhist teaching is just one aspect of it and not a very

important one. We may even regard this logicalness as incidental to

Buddhism, and those who are entranced by it, remain quite ignorant of

the true import of Buddhism. “He knows as it really is,” ti yathābhūtaṁ

pajānāti,—we must come to this; for Yathābhūta-ñāṇa-dassana is the

insight that destroys the Defilements (_āsavānaṁ khaya-ñāna_) and

produces the consciousness of spiritual emancipation (_cetovimutti_).

Without this N̄aṇa or N̄aṇa-dassana (insight or intuition), no

detachment, no freedom would be possible to a Buddhist, nor would

he ever be assured of his ultimate deliverance from the bondage

of existence as well as of the attainment of the higher life

(_brahmacarya_). The “knowing thus, seeing thus,” does not mean an

intellectual comprehension of facts or truths which fall outside the

pale of one’s own experience, but it is the perception of events

that have actually taken place within oneself. Even an intellectual

comprehension will be impossible when there is no experience that

goes to support its validity. For those who have no spiritual

training along the line of the Hindu dhyana exercises, the mental

state culminating in the yathābhūtam contemplation of the world will

be a very difficult subject to be in sympathy with. But in this light

only the Buddha’s discourse on the fruits of the Sāmañña life is to be

understood.

The Defilements (_āsavā_), or Oozings (_lou_)[3.2] as the Chinese

translators have them, are three, sometimes four, in number. They are

the Defilements of Desire (_kāma_), Existence (_bhāva_), Ignorance

(_avijjā_), and Intellection (_diṭṭhi_). What kind of insight is it

that destroys all these Defilements? And what is it that will be

left in us after such a destruction? The answers may be anticipated

to be thoroughly nihilistic, because nothing but absolute void will

be seemingly the result of such destruction. Especially when we read

a verse like the following (_Sutta-nipāta_, vv. 949 and 1099), we

may reasonably be tempted to regard the teaching of the Buddha as

absolutely negativistic:

“What is before thee, lay it aside;

Let there be nothing behind thee;

If thou wilt not grasp after what is in the middle,

Thou wilt wander calm.”[f65]

But the fact is, from the spiritual point of view, that it is only

after the destruction of the Defilements and a release from every form

of attachment that one’s inmost being gets purified and sees itself

as it really is, not indeed as an ego standing in contrast to the

not-ego, but as something transcending opposites and yet synthesising

them in itself. What is destroyed is the dualism of things and not

their oneness. And the release means going back to one’s original

abode. The insight therefore is to see unity in multiplicity and to

understand the opposition of the two ideas as not conditioning each

other but as both issuing from a higher principle; and this is where

perfect freedom abides. When the mind is trained enough, it sees that

neither negation (_niratta_) nor affirmation (_atta_) applies to

reality but that the truth lies in knowing things as they are or rather

as they become. A mind really sincere and thoroughly purified

is the necessary preliminary to the understanding of reality in its

suchness. As the result we have “ti yathābhūtaṁ pajānāti,” and this

came later to be formulated by the Mahayanists into the doctrine of

Thatness or Suchness (_bhūtatathatā_). The trained mind that has gone

through the four dhyana exercises as prescribed in the Nikāyas further

develops into what is known among the Mahayanists as the Ādarśa-jñānam

(mirror-insight), which corresponds to the Bhūta-ñāṇa in the Anguttara

Nikāya. The last simile in the Buddha’s discourse on the fruits of the

Sāmañña life, which sums up the spiritual attainment of the Buddhists,

becomes now quite intelligible. It runs thus:

“Just, O king, as if in a mountain fastness there were a pool of water,

clear, translucent, and serene; and a man, standing on the bank and

with eyes to see, should perceive the oysters and the shells, the

gravel and the pebbles and the shoals of fish, as they move about or

lie within it: he would know: This pool is clear, transparent, and

serene, and there within it are the oysters and the shells, and the

sand and gravel, and the shoals of fish are moving about or lying

still.”

The radical empiricism of the “Yathābhūtam” teaching of the Buddha

is here graphically presented, which reminds us of the Buddha in the

_Itivuttaka_, v. 109, describing himself as the spectator standing on

the shore (_cakkhumā puriso tīre ṭhito_). To understand this simile

intellectually will be sheer nonsense. The writer describes his mental

attitude from a higher plane of thought which has been realised by him

after a long training. Sambodhi or Enlightenment is the Buddhist term

given to this realisation. The destruction of the four Defilements is

the negative phase of the experience which is the insight to which

the Buddha’s serene and translucent mind was directed and bent down.

When the destructive activity alone is considered, Enlightenment is

annihilating and negativistic, but when the insight opens to the

suchness of truth, it is most emphatically affirmative. This is where

lies that “matchless island possessing nothing and grasping after

nothing, called Nirvana, the destruction of decay and death.”

(_Sutta-nipāta_, v. 1094). Remember that what is here destroyed is

decay and death and not life; for it is through Enlightenment that life

is for the first time restored to its native freedom and creativeness.

The simile of mirror (_ādarśa_) may however suggest that the Buddhist

attitude towards the world is merely passive and lacking in energising

inspirations. This however betrays the ignorance on the part of the

critic of the Buddha’s own life which was so unselfishly devoted for

forty-nine long and peaceful years to the promotion of the general

spiritual welfare of his people; not only this, but the critic has

also forgotten to notice the extraordinary missionary enterprises

of the Buddha’s disciples as well as their intellectual activities

which developed into the Mahayanist school of Buddhism. Whatever this

be, the charge of passivity against Buddhist _weltanschauung_ is

wrong even when it is considered apart from the historical facts of

Buddhism. Passivity we notice in Enlightenment is merely apparent. As

a general statement, a thing absolutely passive is unthinkable, unless

it is a state of absolute nothingness without any kind of content

in it. As long as Enlightenment is the outcome of a most strenuous

spiritual effort, it is a positive state of mind in which lies hidden

an inexhaustible reservoir of possibilities; it is a unity in which a

world of multitudinosity is lodged. “Noisy go the small waters, silent

goes the vast ocean.”[f66] In the vast ocean of Enlightenment there is

the silence of unity. The Avataṁsaka philosophers too compare it to the

immense expanse of an ocean, calm and translucent, which reflects all

the shining bodies of heaven, but where at the same time possibilities

of roaring and all-devouring waves lie innocently embosomed.

So asks the Buddha in the _Mahāli Sutta_: “When a monk knows thus

and sees thus, would that make him ready to take up the question:

Is the soul the same as the body, or is the soul one thing and the

body another?” It is thus evident that the Buddha’s teaching always

centered in the practical realisation of Enlightenment as “āsavem

khata-ñāṇa,” insight that destroys the Defilements and releases one

from every attachment (_upādāna_). He did not shun the discussion of

the metaphysical problems merely because they were metaphysical, but

because they were not conducive to the attainment of the ultimate

end of Buddhist life which is the purification of spirit and not the

display of epistemological subtlety. Ignorance was to be dispelled

in our inner experience, and not by intellectually understanding

the principle of dependent origination whether expressed as the

Paṭicca-samuppāda or as the Ariya-sacca.

Further, that Enlightenment consists in seeing into things

“yathābhūtam” or “yathātatham,” free from doubt, not disturbed by

intellection or theorisation, may be gleaned from the last gāthā in the

_Itivuttaka_, where the Buddha is praised for his various virtues. I

quote the first three stanzas:

“Having insight into all the world,

In all the world as it really is,

He is detached from all the world,

And without compare in all the world.

All surpassing in everything, steadfast.

Freed from all ties,

The highest repose belongs to him,

Who has attained Nirvana, with no fear from any side.

This Enlightened One, with Defilements destroyed,

Undisturbed, and free from doubt,

Has attained destruction of all karma,

And is released in the destruction of the substratum.”

V

Viewing things “yathābhūtam” is, so to speak, the intellectual or

noetic aspect of Enlightenment though not in the sense of discursive

understanding; there is another aspect of Enlightenment which will be

the subject of consideration here. I mean its relation to samadhi or

dhyana. This is preliminary, as I said before, to the realisation, but

it also shows that the realisation thus attained is something more

than merely seeing into truth. If Enlightenment were just this seeing

or having insight, it would not be so spiritually enlightening as

to bring about a complete riddance of evil passions and the sense

of perfect freedom. Intuitions could not go so penetratingly into

the source of life and set all doubts at rest and sever all bonds of

attachment, unless one’s consciousness were thoroughly prepared to take

in the All in its wholeness as well as its suchness. Our senses and

ordinary consciousness are only too apt to be disturbed and to turn

away from the realisation of truth. Mental discipline thus becomes

indispensable.

We must remember that the Buddha had this discipline under his two

Samkhya teachers and that even after his Enlightenment he made it a

rule for his disciples to train themselves in the dhyana exercises. He

himself retired into solitude whenever he had opportunities for it.

This was not of course merely indulging in contemplation or in making

the world reflect in the mirror of consciousness. It was a kind of

spiritual training even for himself and even after Enlightenment. In

this respect the Buddha was simply following the practise of all other

Indian sages and philosophers. This however was not all with him, he

saw some deeper meaning in the discipline which was to awaken the

highest spiritual sense for comprehending the Dharma. Indeed, without

this ultimate awakening, dhyana however exalting, was of no import to

the perfection of Buddhist life. So we have in the _Dhammapada_, v.

372: “Without knowledge (_paññā_, _prajñā_) there is no meditation

(_jhāna_, _dhyāna_), without meditation there is no knowledge: he

who has knowledge and meditation is near unto Nirvana.” This mutual

dependence of jhāna and paññā is what distinguished Buddhism from

the rest of the Indian teachings at the time. Jhāna or dhyāna must

issue in paññā, must develop into seeing the world as it really is

(_yathābhūtaṁ_); for there is no Buddhism in meditation merely as

such. And this was the reason why the Buddha got dissatisfied with

the teaching of his teachers; it, to use his own words, did “not lead

to perfect insight, to supreme awakening, to Nirvana” (_na abhiññāya

na sambhodāya na nibbānāya saṁvattati_). To be abiding in the

serenity of nothingness was enjoyable enough, but it was falling into

a deep slumber, and the Buddha had no desire to sleep away his earthly

life in a daydream. There must be a seeing into the life and soul of

things. To him paññā or prajñā was the most essential part of his

doctrine, and it had to grow out of dhyana, and the dhyana that did

not terminate in paññā was not at all Buddhistic. The boat was to be

emptied indeed, but staying in an “empty house” (_suññāgāraṁ_) and

doing nothing is blankness and annihilation; an eye must open and see

the truth fully and clearly, the truth (_paramaṁ ariyasaccaṁ_) that

liberates life from its many bondages and encumbrances. (Majjhima

Nikāya, 140.) Sings the _Dhammapada_ again (v. 373):

“A monk who has entered his empty house, and whose mind is tranquil,

Feels a more than human delight when he sees the truth clearly.”

* * * * *

As thus the aim of the dhyana exercises is to prepare the mind for the

realisation of the paramasacca which destroys and liberates, and as the

truth is realisable only by the awakening of the parama-paññā which is

the knowledge (_ñāṇa_) that puts an end to all misery (_sabbadukkha_),

the Buddha never fails to duly impress the importance of paññā on the

minds of his disciples, for instance, in his general disciplinary

scheme given to them under the three headings: śīla (morality), jhāna

(meditation), and paññā (intuitive knowledge). Whatever supersensual

pleasures one may experience in the jhāna exercises, the Buddha

considered them to be far short of the ultimate goal of Buddhist

life, every one of such pleasures had to be abandoned as it would

entangle the mind and interrupt its ascending course to the awakening

of paññā. It was through this awakening alone that the consciousness

of emancipation or going back to one’s original spiritual abode could

be attained. And by emancipation the Buddha meant to be free from

all forms of attachment, both sensual (_rūpaṁ_) and intellectual

(_viññānaṁ_). So says he in the Majjhima Nikāya, 138: Let not thy

mind be disturbed by external objects, nor let it go astray among thy

own ideas. Be free from attachments, and fear not. This is the way to

overcome the sufferings of birth and death.

As long as there is the slightest trace of attachment anywhere,

outwardly or inwardly, there remains the substratum of selfhood,

and this is sure to create a new force of karma and involve us in

the eternal cycle of birth-and-death. This attachment is a form of

obsession or illusion or imagination. Nine of such self-conceited

illusions are mentioned in the Nikāyas, all of which come out of the

wrong speculations of selfhood and naturally lead to attachment in one

way or another. They are the ideas that “I am,” “I am that,” “I shall

be,” “I shall not be,” “I shall have form,” “I shall be without form,”

“I shall have thought,” “I shall be without thought,” “I shall neither

have thought nor be without thought.”[f67] We have to get rid of all

these _maññitams_, arrogant, self-asserting conceptions, in order to

reach the final goal of Buddhist life. For when they are eliminated, we

cease to worry, to harbour hatred, to be belabouring, and to be seized

with fears,—which is tranquillisation (_santi_), and Nirvana, and the

seeing into the reality and truth of things. When paññā is awakened in

us, morality is abandoned, meditation left behind, and there remains

only an enlightened state of consciousness in which spirit moveth as it

listeth.

The well-known simile of the raft (_kullūpamaṁ_)[f68] which may seem

somewhat unintelligible to some of the Buddhist critics who are

used to an altogether different “intellectual landscape,” is a good

illustration of the Buddhist teaching of non-attachment. The teaching,

“Kullūpamaṁ vo bhikkhave ājānantehi dhammā pi vo pahātabbā, pageva

adhammā,” (Like unto a raft all dharmas indeed must be abandoned, much

more un-dharmas!), is really the most fundamental keynote running

through the whole course of the history of Buddhist dogmatics. The

philosophy of Prajñāpāramitā which is considered by some quite

deviating from the spirit of primitive Buddhism is in no way behind in

upholding this doctrine of non-attachment, for instance, as we

see in the _Vajracchedikā Sūtra_. In fact, the theory of Śūnyatā as

expounded in all the Prajñā-sūtras is no more than philosophising on

the doctrine of non-attachment.[f69] The _Vajracchedikā_ has:

“Tasmad iyaṁ thathāgatena sandhāya vāg bhāshi kolopamaṁ dharmaparyāyam

ājānadbhir dharmā eva tā prahātavyāḥ prāgeva adharmā.”

The simile itself runs as follows (Majjhima Nikāya, 22):

“In the simile of a raft do I teach my doctrine to you, O monks, which

is designed for escape, not for retention. Listen attentively and

remember well what I am going to say. Suppose that a man coming upon

a long journey finds in his way a great broad water, the hither side

beset with fears and dangers, but the further side secure and free from

fears, and no boat wherewith to cross the flood nor any bridge leading

from this to the other shore. And suppose this man to say to himself:

Verily this is a great and wide water, and the hither side is full of

fears and dangers, but the further side secure and free from fears; and

there is neither boat nor bridge to take me from this to that further

shore. How if I gather some reeds and twigs and leaves and bind them

together into a raft; and then, supported on that raft, and labouring

with hands and feet, cross in safety to that other shore! Accordingly,

O monks, suppose this man to gather together reeds and twigs and leaves

and branches and bind them all together into a raft, and launching

forth upon it and labouring with hands and feet, attain in safety the

other shore. And now, the flood crossed, the further shore attained,

suppose the man should say: Very serviceable indeed has this my raft

been to me. Supported by this raft and working with hands and feet, I

am safely crossed to this other shore; how now if I lift the raft up

on my head or lay it upon my shoulder, and so proceed whithersoever

I wish! What think ye, O monks? So doing, would this man be acting

rightly as regards his raft?

“Nay, verily, O Lord!

“And what then ought this man to do if he would act rightly as

regards the raft? Thus, O monks, ought the man to consider: Truly this

raft has been serviceable to me! Supported by this raft and exerting

hands and feet, I am crossed in safety to this further shore. How now

if I lay this raft up on the bank or leave it to sink in the water and

so proceed upon my journey? So doing, O monks, the man would be acting

rightly as regards his raft.

“In like manner also do I teach my doctrine to you in the simile of

a raft, which is meant, O monks, for escape and not for retention.

Understanding the simile of the raft, O monks, you must leave dharmas

behind, how much more un-dharmas!”[f70]

The teaching of the Buddha may now be summed up as follows: Seeing

things thus or “yathābhūtam” is the same as the attainment of perfect

spiritual freedom; or we may say that when we are detached from evil

passions based upon the wrong idea of selfhood and when the heart

grows conscious of its own emancipation, we are then for the first

time fully awakened to the truth as it really is. These two events,

seeing and being freed, are mutually dependent, so intimately that

the one without the other is unthinkable, is impossible; in fact

they are two aspects of one identical experience, separated only in

our limited cognition. Paññā without jhāna is no paññā, and jhāna

without paññā is no jhāna. Enlightenment is the term designating the

identification-experience of paññā and jhāna, of seeing “yathābhūtam”

and abandoning the dharma-raft of every denomination. In this light

should the following be understood:

“Therefore, O monks, whatever of matter (or body, _rūpaṁ_) there is,

whether of the past, of the future, or of the present time, whether

internal or external, whether coarse or fine, mean or exalted, far

or near, all matter (or body) is to be regarded as it really is, in

the light of perfect knowledge (_sammāpaññā_), thus: ‘This is not of

me,’ ‘This am I not,’ ‘This is not my Self.’ So with the rest of the

five aggregates (_khaṇḍa_): _vedanā_ (sensations), _saññā_ (concepts),

_sankhāra_ (formative principle), and _viññānaṁ_ (consciousness). One

who thus seeing the world turns away from the world is truly freed from

evil passions and has the consciousness of freedom. Such is called one

who has the obstacles removed, trenches filled, one who has destroyed,

is free, one whose fight is over, who has laid down his burden, and is

detached.”[f71]

In short, he has every quality of the Enlightened, in whom the will and

the intellect are harmoniously blended.