Another point to be noted in connection with the main metaphysical theories of Patañjali is the Sphoṭa theory which considers the relation of words with their ideas and the things which they signify. Generally these three are not differentiated one from the other, and we are not accustomed to distinguish them from one another. Though distinct yet they are often identified or taken in one act of thought, by a sort of illusion. The nature of this illusory process comes to our view when we consider the process of auditory perception of words. Thus if we follow the Bhāshya as explained by Vijñāna Bhikshu we find that by an effect of our organs of speech, the letters are pronounced. This vocal sound is produced in the mouth of the speaker from which place the sound moves in aerial waves until it reaches the ear drum of the hearer, by coming in contact with which it produces the audible sound called dhvani (Yoga-vārttika, III. 17). The special modifications of this dhvani are seen to be generated in the form of letters (varṇa) and the general name for these modifications is nāda. This sound as it exists in the stage of varṇas or letters is also called varṇa. If we apply the word śabda or sound in the most general sense, then we can say that this is the second stage of sound moving towards word-cognition, the first stage being that of its utterance in the mouth of the speaker. The third stage of śabda is that in which the letters, for example, g, au, and ḥ, of the word “gauḥ” are taken together and the complete word-form “gauḥ” comes before our view. The comprehension of this complete word-form is an attribute of the mind and not of the sense of hearing. For the sense of hearing senses the letter-forms of the sound one by one as the particular letters are pronounced by the speaker and as they approach the ear one by one in air-waves. But each letter-form sound vanishes as it is generated, for the sense of hearing has no power to hold them together and comprehend the letter-forms as forming a complete word-form. The ideation of this complete word-form in the mind is called sphoṭa. It differs from the letter-form in this that it is a complete, inseparable, and unified whole, devoid of any past, and thus is quite unlike the letter-forms which die the next moment after they originate. According to the system of Patañjali as explained by the commentators, all significance belongs to this sphoṭa-form and never to the letters pronounced or heard. Letters when they are pronounced and heard in a particular order serve to give rise to such complete ideational word-images which possess some denotation and connotation of meaning and are thus called “sphoṭas,” or that which illuminates. These are essentially different in nature from the sounds in letter-forms generated in the senses of hearing which are momentary and evanescent and can never be brought together to form one whole, have no meaning, and have the sense of hearing as their seat.
The Vaiśeshika view.—Saṅkara Miśra, however, holds that this “sphoṭa” theory is absolutely unnecessary, for even the supporters of sphoṭa agree that the sphoṭa stands conventionally for the thing that it signifies; now if that be the case what is the good of admitting sphoṭa at all? It is better to say that the conventionality of names belongs to the letters themselves, which by virtue of that can conjointly signify a thing; and it is when you look at the letters from this aspect—their unity with reference to their denotation of one thing—that you call them a pada or name (Upaskāra, II. 2, 21). So according to this view we find that there is no existence of a different entity called “name” or “sphoṭa” which can be distinguished from the letters coming in a definite order within the range of the sense of hearing. The letters pronounced and heard in a definite order are jointly called a name when they denote a particular meaning or object.
Kumārila’s view:—Kumārila, the celebrated scholar of the Mīmāṃsa school, also denies the sphoṭa theory and asserts like the Vaiśeshika that the significance belongs to the letters themselves and not to any special sphoṭa or name. To prove this he first proves that the letter-forms are stable and eternal and suffer no change on account of the differences in their modes of accent and pronunciation. He then goes on to show that the sphoṭa view only serves to increase the complexity without any attendant advantage. Thus the objection that applies to the so-called defect of the letter-denotation theory that the letters cannot together denote a thing since they do not do it individually, applies to the name-denotation of the sphoṭa theory, since there also it is said that though there is no sphoṭa or name corresponding to each letter yet the letters conjointly give rise to a sphoṭa or complete name (Ślokavārttika, Sphoṭavāda, śl. 91–93).
The letters, however, are helped by their potencies (saṃskāras) in denoting the object, or the meaning. The sphoṭa theory has, according to Kumārila and Pārthasārathi, also to admit this saṃskāra of the letters in the manifestation of the name or the śabda-sphoṭa, whereas they only admit it as the operating power of the letters in denoting the object or the thing signified. Saṃskāras according to Kumārila are thus admitted both by the sphoṭa theorists and the Kumārila school of Mīmāṃsa, only with this difference that the latter with its help can directly denote the object of the signified, whereas the former have only to go a step backwards in thinking their saṃskāra to give rise to the name or the śabda-sphoṭa alone (Nyāyaratnākara, Sphoṭavāda, śl. 104).
Kumārila says that he takes great pains to prove the nullity of the sphoṭa theory only because if the sphoṭa view be accepted then it comes to the same thing as saying that words and letters have no validity, so that all actions depending on them also come to lose their validity (Ślokavārttika, Sphoṭavāda, śl. 137).
Prabhākara.—Prabhākara also holds the same view; for according to him also the letters are pronounced in a definite order; though when individually considered they are momentary and evanescent, yet they maintain themselves by their potency in the form of a pāda or name, and thus signify an object. Thus Śāliknātha Miśra says in his Prakaraṇa Pañcikā, p. 89: “It is reasonable to suppose that since the later letters in a word are dependent upon the perception of a preceding one some special change is wrought in the letters themselves which leads to the comprehension of the meaning of a word.... It cannot be proved either by perception or by inference that there is any word apart from the letters; the word has thus for its constituents the letters.”
Śabara.—The views of Kamārila and Prahhākara thus explicated are but elaborate explanations of the view of Śabara who states the whole theory in a single line—pūrvavarṇajanitasaṃskārasahito’ntyo varṇaḥ pratyāyakaḥ.
“The last letter together with the potency generated by the preceding letters is the cause of significance.”
Mahābhāshya and Kaiyaṭa.—After describing the view of those who are antagonistic to the sphoṭa theory it is necessary to mention the Vaiākaraṇa school which is in favour of it; thus we find that in explaining the following passage of Mahābhāshya,
“What is then a word? It is that which being pronounced one can understand specific objects such as those (cows) which have tail, hoofs, horns, etc.”
Kaiyata says: “The grammarians think that denotation belongs to words, as distinct from letters which are pronounced, for if each of the letters should denote the object, there would be no need of pronouncing the succeeding letters....”
The vaiyakaraṇas admit the significant force of names as distinguished from letters. For if the significant force be attributed to letters individually, then the first letter being quite sufficient to signify the object, the utterance of other letters becomes unnecessary; and according to this view if it is held that each letter has the generating power, then also they cannot do it simultaneously, since they are uttered one after another. On the view of manifestation, also, since the letters are manifested one after another, they cannot be collected together in due order; if their existence in memory is sufficient, then we should expect no difference of signification or meaning by the change of order in the utterance of the letters; that is “sara” ought to have the same meaning as “rasa.” So it must be admitted that the power of signification belongs to the sphoṭa as manifested by the nādas as has been described in detail in Vākyapadīya.
As the relation between the perceiving capacity and the object of perception is a constant one so also is the relation between the sphoṭa and the nāda as the manifested and the manifestor (Vākyapadīya 98). Just as the image varies corresponding to the variation of the reflector, as oil, water, etc., so also the reflected or manifested image differs according to the difference of the manifestor (Vāk. 100). Though the manifestation of letters, propositions and names occurs at one and the same time yet there seems to be a “before and after” according to the “before and after” of the nāda utterances (Vāk. 102). That which is produced through the union and disunion (of nādas or dhvanis) is called sphoṭa, whereas other sound-perceptions arising from sounds are called dhvanis (Vāk. 103). As by the movement of water the image of a thing situated elsewhere also appears to adopt the movement of the water and thus seems to move, so also the sphoṭa, though unchanging in itself, yet appears to suffer change in accordance with the change of nāda which manifests it (Vāk. 49). As there are no parts of the letters themselves so the letters also do not exist as parts of the name. There is again no ultimate or real difference between names and propositions (Vāk. 73). It is only in popular usage that they are regarded as different. That which others regard as the most important thing is regarded as false here, for propositions only are here regarded as valid (Vāk. 74). Though the letters which manifest names and propositions are altogether different from them, yet their powers often appear as quite undifferentiated from them (Vāk. 89). Thus when propositions are manifested by the cause of the manifestation of propositions they appear to consist of parts when they first appear before the mind. Thus, though the pada-sphoṭa or the vākya-sphoṭa does not really consist of parts, yet, as the powers of letters cannot often be differentiated from them, they also appear frequently to be made up of parts (Vāk. 91).
The Yoga View.—As to the relation of the letters to the sphoṭa, Vācaspati says, in explaining the Bhāshya, that each of the letters has the potentiality of manifesting endless meanings, but none of them can do so individually; it is only when the letter-form sounds are pronounced in succession by one effort of speech that the individual letters by their own particular contiguity or distance from one another can manifest a complete word called the sphoṭa. Thus owing to the variation of contiguity of distance by intervention from other letter-form sounds any letter-form sound may manifest any meaning or word; for the particular order and the association of letter-form sounds depend upon the particular output of energy required in uttering them. The sphoṭa is thus a particular modification of buddhi, whereas the letter-form sounds have their origin in the organ of speech when they are uttered, and the sense of hearing when they are heard. It is well to note here that the theory that the letters themselves have endless potentiality and can manifest any word-sphoṭas, according to their particular combinations and recombinations, is quite in keeping with the main metaphysical doctrine of the Pātañjala theory.
Vākya-sphoṭa.—What is said here of the letter-form sounds and the śabda-sphoṭas also applies to the relation that the śabda-sphoṭas bear to propositions or sentences. A word or name does not stand alone; it always exists as combined with other words in the form of a proposition. Thus the word “tree” whenever it is pronounced carries with it the notion of a verb “asti” or “exists,” and thereby demonstrates its meaning. The single word “tree” without any reference to any other word which can give it a propositional form has no meaning. Knowledge of words always comes in propositional forms; just as different letter-form sounds demonstrate by their mutual collocation a single word or śabda-sphoṭa, so the words also by their mutual combination or collocation demonstrate judgmental or propositional significance or meaning. As the letters themselves have no meaning so the words themselves have also no meaning; it is only by placing them side by side in a particular order that a meaning dawns in the mind. When single words are pronounced they associate other words with themselves and thus appear to signify a meaning. But though a single word is sufficient by association with other words to carry a meaning, yet sentences or propositions should not be deemed unnecessary for they serve to specialise that meaning (niyamārthe anuvādaḥ). Thus “cooks” means that any subject makes something the object of his cooking. The mention of the subject “Devadatta” and the object “rice” only specialises the subject and the object. Though the analysis of a sentence into the words of which it is constituted is as imaginary as the analysis of a word into the letter-form sounds, it is generally done in order to get an analytical view of the meaning of a sentence—an imaginary division of it as into cases, verbs, etc.
Abhihitānvayavada and Anvitābhidhānavāda.—This reminds us of the two very famous theories about the relation of sentences to words, viz. the “Abhihitānvayavāda” and the “Anvitābhidhānavāda.” The former means that words themselves can express their separate meanings by the function abhidhā or denotation; these are subsequently combined into a sentence expressing one connected idea. The latter means that words only express a meaning as parts of a sentence, and as grammatically connected with each other; they only express an action or something connected with action; in “sāmānaya”, “bring the cow”—“gām” does not properly mean “gotva” but “ānayanānvitagotva,” that is, the bovine genus as connected with bringing. We cannot have a case of a noun without some governing verb and vice versa—(Sarvadarśana-saṃgraha, Cowell).
The Yoga point of view.—It will be seen that strictly speaking the Yoga view does not agree with any one of these views though it approaches nearer to the Anvitābhidhāna view than to the Abhihitānvaya view. For according to the Yoga view the idea of the sentence is the only true thing; words only serve to manifest this idea but have themselves no meaning. The division of a sentence into the component word-conceptions is only an imaginary analysis—an afterthought.
Confusion the cause of verbal cognition.—According to Patañjali’s view verbal cognition proceeds only from a confusion of the letter-form sounds (which are perceived in the sense of hearing), the śabda-sphoṭa which is manifested in the buddhi, and the object which exists in the external world. These three though altogether distinct from one another yet appear to be unified on account of the saṅketa or sign, so that the letter-form sounds, the śabda-sphoṭa, and the thing, can never be distinguished from one another. Of course knowledge can arise even in those cases where there is no actual external object, simply by virtue of the manifesting power of the letter-form sounds. This saṅketa is again defined as the confusion of words and their meanings through memory, so that it appears that what a word is, so is its denoted object, and what a denoted word is, so is its object. Convention is a manifestation of memory of the nature of mutual confusion of words and their meanings. This object is the same as this word, and this word is the same as this object. Thus there is no actual unity of words and their objects: such unity is imaginary and due to beginningless tradition. This view may well be contrasted with Nyāya, according to which the convention of works as signifying objects is due to the will of God.