We may now come to the attempt of Yoga to prove the reality of an external world as against the idealistic Buddhists. In sūtra 12 of the chapter on kaivalya we find: “The past and the future exist in reality, since all qualities of things manifest themselves in these three different ways. The future is the manifestation which is to be. The past is the appearance which has been experienced. The present is that which is in active operation. It is this threefold substance which is the object of knowledge. If it did not exist in reality, there would not exist a knowledge thereof. How could there be knowledge in the absence of anything knowable? For this reason the past and present in reality exist.”^[19]

So we see that the present holding within itself the past and the future exists in reality. For the past though it has been negated has really been preserved and kept in the present, and the future also though it has not made its appearance yet exists potentially in the present. So, as we know the past and the future worlds in the present, they both exist and subsist in the present. That which once existed cannot die, and that which never existed cannot come to be (nāstyasataḥ saṃbhavaḥ na cāsti sato vināsāḥ, Vyāsa-bhāshya, V. 12). So the past has not been destroyed but has rather shifted its position and hidden itself in the body of the present, and the future that has not made its appearance exists in the present only in a potential form. It cannot be argued, as Vācaspati says, that because the past and the future are not present therefore they do not exist, for if the past and future do not exist how can there be a present also, since its existence also is only relative? So all the three exist as truly as any one of them, and the only difference among them is the different way or mode of their existence.

He next proceeds to refute the arguments of those idealists who hold that since the external knowables never exist independently of our knowledge of them, their separate external existence as such may be denied. Since it is by knowledge alone that the external knowables can present themselves to us we may infer that there is really no knowable external reality apart from knowledge of it, just as we see that in dream-states knowledge can exist apart from the reality of any external world.

So it may be argued that there is, indeed, no external reality as it appears to us. The Buddhists, for example, hold that a blue thing and knowledge of it as blue are identical owing to the maxim that things which are invariably perceived together are one (sahopalambhaniyamādabhedo nīlataddhiyoḥ). So they say that external reality is not different from our idea of it. To this it may be replied that if, as you say, external reality is identical with my ideas and there is no other external reality existing as such outside my ideas, why then does it appear as existing apart, outside and independent of my ideas? The idealists have no basis for the denial of external reality, and for their assertion that it is only the creation of our imagination like experiences in dreams. Even our ideas carry with them the notion that reality exists outside our mental experiences. If all our percepts and notions as this and that arise only by virtue of the influence of the external world, how can they deny the existence of the external world as such? The objective world is present by its own power. How then can this objective world be given up on the strength of mere logical or speculative abstraction?

Thus the Vyāsa-bhāshya, IV. 14, says: “There is no object without the knowledge of it, but there is knowledge as imagined in dreams without any corresponding object; thus the reality of external things is like that of dream-objects, mere imagination of the subject and unreal. How can they who say so be believed? Since they first suppose that the things which present themselves to us by their own force do so only on account of the invalid and delusive imagination of the intellect, and then deny the reality of the external world on the strength of such an imaginary supposition of their own.”

The external world has generated knowledge of itself by its own presentative power (arthena svakīyayāgrāhyaśaktyā vijñānamajani), and has thus caused itself to be represented in our ideas, and we have no right to deny it.^[20] Commenting on the Bhāshya IV. 14, Vācaspati says that the method of agreement applied by the Buddhists by their sahopalambhaniyama (maxim of simultaneous revelation) may possibly be confuted by an application of the method of difference. The method of agreement applied by the idealists when put in proper form reads thus: “Wherever there is knowledge there is external reality, or rather every case of knowledge agrees with or is the same as every case of the presence of external reality, so knowledge is the cause of the presence of the external reality, i.e. the external world depends for its reality on our knowledge or ideas and owes its origin or appearance as such to them.” But Vācaspati says that this application of the method of agreement is not certain, for it cannot be corroborated by the method of difference. For the statement that every case of absence of knowledge is also a case of absence of external reality cannot be proved, i.e. we cannot prove that the external reality does not exist when we have no knowledge of it (sahopalambhaniyamaśca vedyatvañca hetū sandigdhavyatirekatayānaikāntikau) IV. 14.

Describing the nature of grossness and externality, the attributes of the external world, he says that grossness means the pervading of more portions of space than one, i.e. grossness means extension, and externality means being related to separate space, i.e. co-existence in space. Thus we see that extension and co-existence in space are the two fundamental qualities of the gross external world. Now an idea can never be said to possess them, for it cannot be said that an idea has extended into more spaces than one and yet co-existed separately in separate places. An idea cannot be said to exist with other ideas in space and to extend in many points of space at one and the same time. To avoid this it cannot be said that there may be plurality of ideas so that some may co-exist and others may extend in space. For co-existence and extension can never be asserted of our ideas, since +hey are very fine and subtle, and can be known only at the time of their individual operation, at which time, however, other ideas may be quite latent and unknown. Imagination has no power to negate their reality, for the sphere of imagination is quite distinct from the sphere of external reality, and it can never be applied to an external reality to negate it. Imagination is a mental function, and as such has no touch with the reality outside, which it can by no means negate.

Further it cannot be said that, because grossness and externality can abide neither in the external world nor in our ideas, they are therefore false. For this falsity cannot be thought as separable from our ideas, for in that case our ideas would be as false as the false itself. The notion of externality and grossness pervades all our ideas, and if they are held to be false, no true thing can be known by our ideas and they therefore become equally false.

Again, knowledge and the external world can never be said to be identical because they happen to be presented together. For the method of agreement cannot by itself prove identity. Knowledge and the knowable external world may be independently co-existing things like the notions of existence and non-existence. Both co-exist independently of one another. It is therefore clear enough, says Vācaspati, that the certainty arrived at by perception, which gives us a direct knowledge of things, can never be rejected on the strength of mere logical abstraction or hair-splitting discussion.

We further see, says Patañjali, that the thing remains the same though the ideas and feelings of different men may change differently about it.^[21] Thus A, B, C may perceive the same identical woman and may feel pleasure, pain or hatred. We see that the same common thing generates different feelings and ideas in different persons; external reality cannot be said to owe its origin to the idea or imagination of any one man, but exists independently of any person’s imagination in and for itself. For if it be due to the imagination of any particular man, it is his own idea which as such cannot generate the same ideas in another man. So it must be said that the external reality is what we perceive it outside.

There are, again, others who say that just as pleasure and pain arise along with our ideas and must be said to be due to them so the objective world also must be said to have come into existence along with our ideas. The objective world therefore according to these philosophers has no external existence either in the past or in the future, but has only a momentary existence in the present due to our ideas about it. That much existence only are they ready to attribute to external objects which can be measured by the idea of the moment. The moment I have an idea of a thing, the thing rises into existence and may be said to exist only for that moment and as soon as the idea disappears the object also vanishes, for when it cannot be presented to me in the form of ideas it can be said to exist in no sense. But this argument cannot hold good, for if the objective reality should really depend upon the idea of any individual man, then the objective reality corresponding to an idea of his ought to cease to exist either with the change of his idea, or when he directs attention to some other thing, or when he restrains his mind from all objects of thought. Now, then, if it thus ceases to exist, how can it again spring into existence when the attention of the individual is again directed towards it? Again, all parts of an object can never be seen all at once. Thus supposing that the front side of a thing is visible, then the back side which cannot be seen at the time must not be said to exist at all. So if the back side does not exist, the front side also can as well be said not to exist (ye cāsyānupasthitā bhāgaste cāsya na syurevaṃ nāsti pṛshṭhamiti udaramapi na gṛhyeta. Vyāsa-bhāshya, IV. 16). Therefore it must be said that there is an independent external reality which is the common field of observation for all souls in general; and there are also separate “Cittas” for separate individual souls (tasmāt svatantro’rthaḥ sarvapurusasādhdāraṇaḥ svatantrāṇi ca cittāni pratipurushaṃ, pravarttante, ibid.). And all the experiences of the purusha result from the connection of this “Citta” (mind) with the external world.

Now from this view of the reality of the external world we are confronted with another question—what is the ground which underlies the manifold appearance of this external world which has been proved to be real? What is that something which is thought as the vehicle of such qualities as produce in us the ideas? What is that self-subsistent substratum which is the basis of so many changes, actions and reactions that we always meet in the external world? Locke called this substratum substance and regarded it as unknown, but said that though it did not follow that it was a product of our own subjective thought yet it did not at the same time exist without us. Hume, however, tried to explain everything from the standpoint of association of ideas and denied all notions of substantiality. We know that Kant, who was much influenced by Hume, agreed to the existence of some such unknown reality which he called the Thing-in-itself, the nature of which, however, was absolutely unknowable, but whose influence was a great factor in all our experiences.

But the Bhāshya tries to penetrate deeper into the nature of this substratum or substance and says: dharmisvarūpamātro hi dharmaḥ, dharmivikriyā eva eshā dharmadvārā prapañcyate, Vyāsa-bhāshya, III. 13. The characteristic qualities form the very being itself of the characterised, and it is the change of the characterised alone that is detailed by means of the characteristic. To understand thoroughly the exact significance of this statement it will be necessary to take a more detailed review of what has already been said about the guṇas. We know that all things mental or physical are formed by the different collocations of sattva of the nature of illumination (prakāśa), rajas—the energy or mutative principle of the nature of action (kriyā)—and tamas—the obstructive principle of the nature of inertia (sthiti) which in their original and primordial state are too fine to be apprehended (gunānāṃparamaṃ rūpaṃ na dṛshṭipathamṛcchati, Vyāsa-bhāshya, IV. 13). These different guṇas combine in various proportions to form the manifold universe of the knowable, and thus are made the objects of our cognition. Through combining in different proportions they become, in the words of Dr. B. N. Seal, “more and more differentiated, determinate and coherent,” and thus make themselves cognisable, yet they never forsake their own true nature as the guṇas. So we see that they have thus got two natures, one in which they remain quite unchanged as guṇas, and another in which they collocate and combine themselves in various ways and thus appear under the veil of a multitude of qualities and states of the manifold knowable (te vyaktasūkshmā guṇātmānaḥ [IV. 13] ... sarvamidaṃ guṇānāṃ sanniveśaviśeshamātramiti paramārthato guṇātmānaḥ, Bhāshya, ibid.).

Now these guṇas take three different courses of development from the ego or ahaṃkāra according to which the ego or ahaṃkāra may be said to be sāttvika, rājasa and tāmasa. Thus from the sāttvika side of the ego by a preponderance of sattva the five knowledge-giving senses, e.g. hearing, sight, touch, taste and smell are derived. From the rajas side of ego by a preponderance of rajas the five active senses of speech, etc., are derived. From the tamas side of ego or ahaṃkāra by a preponderance of tamas are derived the five tanmātras. From which again by a preponderance of tamas the atoms of the five gross elements—earth, water, fire, air and ether are derived.

In the derivation of these it must be remembered that all the three guṇas are conjointly responsible. In the derivation of a particular product one of the guṇas may indeed be predominant, and thus may bestow the prominent characteristic of that product, but the other two guṇas are also present there and perform their functions equally well. Their opposition does not withhold the progress of evolution but rather helps it. All the three combine together in varying degrees of mutual preponderance and thus together help the process of evolution to produce a single product. Thus we see that though the guṇas are three, they combine to produce on the side of perception, the senses, such as those of hearing, sight, etc.; and on the side of the knowable, the individual tanmātras of gandha, rasa, rūpa, sparśa and śabda. The guṇas composing each tanmātra again harmoniously combine with each other with a preponderance of tamas to produce the atoms of each gross element. Thus in each combination one class of guṇas remains prominent, while the others remain dependent upon it but help it indirectly in the evolution of that particular product.

The evolution which we have spoken of above may be characterised in two ways: (1) That arising from modifications or products of some other cause which are themselves capable of originating other products like themselves; (2) That arising from causes which, though themselves derived, yet cannot themselves be the cause of the origination of other existences like themselves. The former may be said to be slightly specialised (aviśesha) and the latter thoroughly specialised (viśesha).

Thus we see that from prakṛti comes mahat, from mahat comes ahaṃkāra, and from ahaṃkāra, as we have seen above, the evolution takes three different courses according to the preponderance of sattva, rajas and tamas originating the cognitive and conative senses and manas, the superintendent of them both on one side and the tanmātras on the other. These tanmātras again produce the five gross elements. Now when ahaṃkāra produces the tanmātras or the senses, or when the tanmātras produce the five gross elements, or when ahaṃkāra itself is produced from buddhi or mahat, it is called tattvāntara-pariṇāma, i.e. the production of a different tattva or substance.

Thus in the case of tattvāntara-pariṇāma (as for example when the tanmātras are produced from ahaṃkāra), it must be carefully noticed that the state of being involved in the tanmātras is altogether different from the state of being of ahaṃkāra; it is not a mere change of quality but a change of existence or state of being.^[22] Thus though the tanmātras are derived from ahaṃkāra the traces of ahaṃkāra cannot be easily followed in them. This derivation is not such that the ahaṃkāra remains principally unchanged and there is only a change of quality in it, but it is a different existence altogether, having properties which differ widely from those of ahaṃkāra. So it is called tattvāntara-pariṇāma, i.e. evolution of different categories of existence.

Now the evolution that the senses and the five gross elements can undergo can never be of this nature, for they are viśeshas, or substances which have been too much specialised to allow the evolution of any other substance of a different grade of existence from themselves. With them there is an end of all emanation. So we see that the aviśeshas or slightly specialised emanations are those which being themselves but emanations can yet yield other emanations from themselves. Thus we see that mahat, ahaṃkāra and the five tanmātras are themselves emanations, as well as the source of other emanations. Mahat, however, though it is undoubtedly an aviśesha or slightly specialised emanation, is called by another technical name liṅga or sign, for from the state of mahat, the prakṛti from which it must have emanated may be inferred. Prakṛti, however, from which no other primal state is inferable, is called the aliṅga or that which is not a sign for the existence of any other primal and more unspecialised state. In one sense all the emanations can be with justice called the liṅgas or states of existence standing as the sign by which the causes from which they have emanated can be directly inferred. Thus in this sense the five gross elements maybe called the liṅga of the tanmātras, and they again of the ego, and that again of the mahat, for the unspecialised ones are inferred from their specialised modifications or emanations. But this technical name liṅga is reserved for the mahat from which the aliṅga or prakṛti can be inferred. This prakṛti, however, is the eternal state which is not an emanation itself but the basis and source of all other emanations.

The liṅga and the aliṅga have thus been compared in the Kārikā:

The liṅga has a cause, it is neither eternal nor universal, but mobile, multiform, dependent, determinate, and possesses parts, whereas the aliṅga is the reverse. The aliṅga or prakṛti, however, being the cause has some characteristics in common with its liṅgas as distinguished from the purushas, which are altogether different from it.

Thus the Kārikā says:

The manifested and the unmanifested pradhāna or prakṛti are both composed of the three guṇas, non-intelligent, objective, universal, unconscious and productive. Soul in these respects is the reverse. We have seen above that prakṛti is the state of equilibrium of the guṇas, which can in no way be of any use to the purushas, and is thus held to be eternal, though all other states are held to be non-eternal as they are produced for the sake of the purushas.

The state of prakṛti is that in which the guṇas completely overpower each other and the characteristics (dharma) and the characterised (dharmī) are one and the same.

Evolution is thus nothing but the manifestation of change, mutation, by the energy of rajas. The rajas is the one mediating activity that breaks up all compounds, builds up new ones and initiates original modifications. Whenever in any particular combination the proportion of sattva, rajas or tamas alters, as a condition of this alteration, there is the dominating activity of rajas by which the old equilibrium is destroyed and another equilibrium established; this in its turn is again disturbed and again another equilibrium is restored. Now the manifestation of this latent activity of rajas is what is called change or evolution. In the external world the time that is taken by a paramāṇu or atom to move from its place is identical with a unit of change.^[23] Now an atom will be that quantum which is smaller or finer than that point or limit at which it can in any way be perceived by the senses. Atoms are therefore mere points without magnitude or dimension, and the unit of time or moment (kshaṇa) that is taken up in changing the position of these atoms is identical with one unit of change or evolution. The change or evolution in the external world must therefore be measured by these units of spatial motion of the atoms; i.e. an atom changing its own unit of space is the measure of all physical change or evolution.

Each unit of time (kshaṇa) corresponding to this change of an atom of its own unit of space is the unit-measure of change. This instantaneous succession of time as discrete moments one following the other is the notion of the series of moments or pure and simple succession. Now the notion of these discrete moments is the notion of time. Even the notion of succession is one that does not really exist but is imagined, for a moment comes into being just when the moment just before had passed so that they have never taken place together. Thus Vyāsa in III. 52, says: “kshaṇatatkramayornāsti vastusamāhāraḥ iti buddhisamāhāraḥ muhūrttāhorātrātrādayaḥ.” Sa tvayaṃ kālaḥ vastuśūnyo’pi buddhinirmāṇaḥ. The moments and their succession do not belong to the category of actual things; the hour, the day and night, are all aggregates of mental conceptions. This time which is not a substantive reality in itself, but is only a mental concept, represented to us through linguistic usage, appears to ordinary minds as if it were an objective reality.

So the conception of time as discrete moments is the real one, whereas the conception of time as successive or as continuous is unreal, being only due to the imagination of our empirical and relative consciousness. Thus Vācaspati further explains it. A moment is real (vastupatitaḥ) and is the essential element of the notion of succession. Succession involves the notion of change of moments, and the moment is called time by those sages who know what time is. Two moments cannot happen together. There cannot be any succession of two simultaneous things. Succession means the notion of change involving a preceding and a succeeding moment. Thus there is only the present moment and there are no preceding and later moments. Therefore there cannot be any union of these moments. The past and the future moments may be said to exist only if we speak of past and future as identical with the changes that have become latent and others that exist potentially but are not manifested. Thus in one moment, the whole world suffers changes. All these characteristics are associated with the thing as connected with one particular moment.^[24]

So we find here that time is essentially discrete, being only the moments of our cognitive life. As two moments never co-exist, there is no succession or continuous time. They exist therefore only in our empirical consciousness which cannot take the real moments in their discrete nature but connects the one with the other and thereby imagines either succession or continuous time.

Now we have said before, that each unit of change or evolution is measured by this unit of time kshaṇa or moment; or rather the units of change are expressed in terms of these moments or kshaṇas. Of course in our ordinary consciousness these moments of change cannot be grasped, but they can be reasonably inferred. For at the end of a certain period we observe a change in a thing; now this change, though it becomes appreciable to us after a long while, was still going on every moment, so, in this way, the succession of evolution or change cannot be distinguished from the moments coming one after another. Thus the Yoga-sūtra says in IV. 33: “Succession involving a course of changes is associated with the moments.” Succession as change of moments is grasped only by a course of changes. A cloth which has not passed through a course of changes through a series of moments cannot be found old all at once at any time. Even a new cloth kept with good care becomes old after a time. This is what is called the termination of a course of changes and by it the succession of a course of changes can be grasped. Even before a thing is old there can be inferred a sequence of the subtlest, subtler, subtle, grossest, grosser and gross changes (Tattvavaiśāradī, IV. 33).^[25]

Now as we have seen that the unit of time is indistinguishable from the unit of change or evolution, and as these moments are not co-existing but one follows the other, we see that there is no past or future existing as a continuous before or past, and after or future. It is the present that really exists as the manifested moment; the past has been conserved as sublatent and the future as the latent. So the past and future exist in the present, the former as one which has already had its manifestation and is thus conserved in the fact of the manifestation of the present. For the manifestation of the present as such could not have taken place until the past had already been manifested; so the manifestation of the present is a concrete product involving within itself the manifestation of the past; in a similar way it may be said that the manifestation of the present contains within itself the seed or the unmanifested state of the future, for if this had not been the case, the future never could have happened. So we see that the whole world undergoes a change at one unit point of time, and not only that but it conserves within itself all the past and future history of cosmic evolution.

We have pointed out before that the manifestation of the rajas or energy as action is what is called change. Now this manifestation of action can only take place when equilibrium of a particular collocation of guṇas is disturbed and the rajas arranges or collocates with itself the sattva and tamas, the whole group being made intelligible by the inherent sattva. So the cosmic history is only the history of the different collocations of the guṇas. Now, therefore, if it is possible for a seer to see in one vision the possible number of combinations that the rajas will have with sattva and tamas, he can in one moment perceive the past, present or future of this cosmic evolutionary process; for with such minds all past and future are concentrated at one point of vision which to a person of ordinary empirical consciousness appears only in the series. For the empirical consciousness, impure as it is, it is impossible that all the powers and potencies of sattva and rajas should become manifested at one point of time; it has to take things only through its senses and can thus take the changes only as the senses are affected by them; whereas, on the other hand, if its power of knowing was not restricted to the limited scope of the senses, it could have grasped all the possible collocations or changes all at once. Such a perceiving mind whose power of knowing is not narrowed by the senses can perceive all the finest modifications or changes that are going on in the body of a substance (see Yoga-sūtra, III. 53).

The Yoga analysis points to the fact that all our cognitive states are distinguished from their objects by the fact of their being intelligent. This intelligence is the constant factor which persists amidst all changes of our cognitive states. We are passing continually from one state to another without any rest, but in this varying change of these states we are never divested of intelligence. This fact of intelligence is therefore neither the particular possession of any one of these states nor that of the sum of these states; for if it is not the possession of any one of these states it cannot be the possession of the sum of these states. In the case of the released person again there is no mental state, but the self-shining intelligence. So Yoga regarded this intelligence as quite distinct from the so-called mental states which became intelligent by coming in connection with this intelligence. The actionless, absolutely pure and simple intelligence it called the purusha.

Yoga tacitly assumed a certain kind of analysis of the nature of these mental states which sought to find out, if possible, the nature of their constituent elements or moments of existence. Now in analysing the different states of our mind we find that a particular content of thought is illuminated and then passed over. The ideas rise, are illuminated and pass away. Thus they found that “movement” was one of the principal elements that constituted the substance of our thoughts. Thought as such is always moving. This principle of movement, mutation or change, this energy, they called rajas.

Now apart from this rajas, thought when seen as divested of its sensuous contents seems to exhibit one universal mould or form of knowledge which assumes the form of all the sensuous contents that are presented to it. It is the one universal of all our particular concepts or ideas—the basis or substratum of all the different shapes imposed upon itself, the pure and simple. Sattva in which there is no particularity is that element of our thought which, resembling purusha most, can attain its reflection within itself and thus makes the unconscious mental states intelligible. All the contents of our thought are but modes and limitations of this universal form and are thus made intelligible. It is the one principle of intelligibility of all our conscious states.

Now our intellectual life consists in a series of shining ideas or concepts; concepts after concepts shine forth in the light of the pure intelligence and pass away. But each concept is but a limitation of the pure shining universal of our knowledge which underlies all its changing modes or modifications of concepts or judgments. This is what is called pure knowledge in which there is neither the knower nor the known. This pure object—subjectless knowledge differs from the pure intelligence or purusha only in this that later on it is liable to suffer various modifications, as the ego, the senses, and the infinite percepts and concepts, etc., connected therewith, whereas the pure intelligence remains ever pure and changeless and is never the substratum of any change. At this stage sattva, the intelligence-stuff, is prominent and rajas and tamas are altogether suppressed. It is for this reason that the buddhi or mind is often spoken of as the sattva. Being an absolute preponderance of sattva it has nothing else to manifest, but it is its pure-shining self. Both tamas and rajas being mostly suppressed they cannot in any way affect the effulgent nature of this pure shining of contentless knowledge in which there is neither the knower nor the known.

But it must be remembered that it is holding suspended as it were within itself the elements of rajas and tamas which cannot manifest themselves owing to the preponderance of the sattva.

This notion of pure contentless consciousness is immediate and abstract and as such is at once mediated by other necessary phases. Thus we see that this pure contentless universal consciousness is the same as the ego-universal (asmitāmātra). For this contentless universal consciousness is only another name for the contentless unlimited, infinite of the ego-universal. A quotation from Fichte may here be useful as a comparison. Thus he says in the introduction to his Science of Ethics: “How an object can ever become a subject, or how a being can ever become an object of representation: this curious change will never be explained by anyone who does not find a point where the objective and subjective are not distinguished at all, but are altogether one. Now such a point is established by, and made the starting point of our system. This point is the Egohood, the Intelligence, Reason, or whatever it may be named.”^[26] The Vyāsa-bhāshya, II. 19, describes it as liṅgamātram mahattatvaṃ sattāmātre mahati ātmani, and again in I. 36 we find it described as the waveless ocean, peaceful infinite pure egohood. This obscure egohood is known merely as being. This mahat has also been spoken of by Vijñāna Bhikshu as the manas, or mind, as it has the function of assimilation (niścaya). Now what we have already said about mahat will, we hope, make it clear that this mahat is the last limit at which the subject and the object can be considered as one indistinguishable point which is neither the one nor the other, but the source of both.

This buddhi is thus variously called mahat, asmitāmātra, manas, sattva, buddhi and liṅga, according to the aspects from which this state is observed.

This state is called mahat as it is the most universal thing conceivable and the one common source from which all other things originate.

Now this phase of sattva or pure shining naturally passes into the other phase, that of the Ego as knower or Ego as subject. The first phase as mahat or asmitāmātra was the state in which the sattva was predominant and the rajas and tamas were in a suppressed condition. The next moment is that in which the rajas comes uppermost, and thus the ego as the subject of all cognition—the subject I—the knower of all the mental states—is derived. The contentless subject-objectless “I” is the passive sattva aspect of the buddhi catching the reflection of the spirit of purusha.

In its active aspect, however, it feels itself one with the spirit and appears as the ego or subject which knows, feels and wills. Thus Patañjali says, in II. 6: dṛgdarśanaśaktyorekātmateva asmitā, i.e. the seeming identity of the seer and the perceiving capacity is called asmitā-ego. Again in Bhāshya, I. 17, we have ekātmikā saṃvidasmitā (knowledge as one identical is asmitā) which Vācaspati explains as sā ca ātmanā grahītrā saha buddhirekātmikā saṃvid, i.e. it is the feeling of identity of the buddhi (mind) with the self, the perceiver. Thus we find that the mind is affected by its own rajas or activity and posits itself as the ego or subject as activity. By reason of this position of the “I” as active it perceives itself in the objective, in all its conative and cognitive senses in its thoughts and feelings and also in the external world of extension and co-existence; in the words of Pañcaśikha (II. 5) thinking the animate and inanimate beings to be the self, man regards their prosperity as his own and becomes glad, and regards their adversity as his own and is sorry. Here the “I” is posited as the active entity which becomes conscious of itself, or in other words the “I” becomes self-conscious. In analysing this notion of self-consciousness we find that here the rajas or element of activity or mobility has become predominant and this predominance of rajas has been manifested by the inherent sattva. Thus we find that the rajas side or “I as active” has become manifested or known as such, i.e. “I” becomes conscious of itself as active. And this is just what is meant by self-consciousness.

This ego or self-consciousness then appears as the modification of the contentless pure consciousness of the mind (buddhi); it is for this reason that we see that this self-consciousness is but a modification of the universal mind. The absolute identity of subject and object as the egohood is not A part of our natural consciousness, for in all stages of our actual consciousness, even in that of self-consciousness, there is an element of the preponderance of rajas or activity which directs this unity as the knower and the known and then unites them as it were. Only so far as I distinguish myself as the conscious, from myself as the object of consciousness, am I at all conscious of myself.

When we see that the buddhi transforms itself into the ego, the subject, or the knower, at this its first phase there is no other content which it can know, it therefore knows itself in a very abstract way as the “I,” or in other words, the ego becomes self-conscious; but at this moment the ego has no content; the tamas being quite under suppression, it is evolved by a preponderance of the rajas; and thus its nature as rajas is manifested by the sattva and thus the ego now essentially knows itself to be active, and holds itself as the permanent energising activity which connects with itself all the phenomena of our life.

But now when the ego first directs itself towards itself and becomes conscious of itself, one question which naturally comes to our mind is, “Can the ego direct itself towards itself and thus divide itself into a part that sees and one that is seen?” To meet this question it is assumed that the guṇas contain within themselves the germs of both subjectivity and objectivity (guṇānāṃ hi dvairūpyaṃ vyavasāyātmkatvam vyavaseyātmakatvaṃ ca. Tattvavaiśāradī, III. 47); the guṇas have two forms, the perceiver and the perceived. Thus we find that in the ego the quality of the guṇas as the perceiver comes to be first manifested and the ego turns back upon itself and makes itself its own object. It is at this stage that we are reminded of the twofold nature of the guṇas.

It is by virtue of this twofold nature that the subject can make itself its own object; but as these two sides have not yet developed they are still only abstract and exist but in an implicit way in this state of the ego (ahaṃkāra).

Enquiring further into the nature of the relation of this ego and the buddhi, we find that the ego is only another phase or modification of the buddhi; however different it might appear from buddhi it is only an appearance or phase of it; its reality is the reality of the buddhi. Thus we see that when the knower is affected in his different modes of concepts and judgments, this too is to be ascribed to the buddhi. Thus Vyāsa writes (II. 18) that perception, memory, differentiation, reasoning, right knowledge, decision belong properly to mind (buddhi) and are only illusorily imposed on the purusha (grahaṇadhāraṇohāpohatattvajñānābhiniveśā buddhau varttamānā purushe adhyāropitasadbhāvāḥ).

Now from this ego we find that three developments take place in three distinct directions according to the preponderance of sattva, rajas or tamas.

By the preponderance of rajas, the ego develops itself into the five conative senses, vāk (speech), pāṇi (hands), pāda (feet), pāyu (organ of passing the excreta) and upastha (generative organ). By the preponderance of sattva, the ego develops itself into the five cognitive senses—hearing, touch, sight, taste and smell; and by a preponderance of tamas it stands as the bhūtādi and produces the five tanmātras, and these again by further preponderance of tamas develops into the particles of the five gross elements of earth, water, light, heat, air and ether.

Now it is clear that when the self becomes conscious of itself as object we see that there are three phases in it: (i) that in which the self becomes an object to itself; (ii) when it directs itself or turns as the subject upon itself as the object, this moment of activity which can effect an aspect of change in itself; (iii) the aspect of the consciousness of the self, the moment in which it perceives itself in its object, the moment of the union of itself as the subject and itself as the object in one luminosity of self-consciousness. Now that phase of self in which it is merely an object to itself is the phase of its union with prakṛti which further develops the prakṛti in moments of materiality by a preponderance of the inert tamas of the bhūtādi into tanmātras and these again into the five grosser elements which are then called the grāhya or perceptible.

The sattva side of this ego or self-consciousness which was hitherto undifferentiated becomes further differentiated, specialised and modified into the five cognitive senses with their respective functions of hearing, touch, sight, taste and smell, synchronising with the evolution of the prakṛti on the tanmātric side of evolution. These again individually suffer infinite modifications themselves and thus cause an infinite variety of sensations in their respective spheres in our conscious life. The rajas side of the ego becomes specialised as the active faculties of the five different conative organs.

There is another specialisation of the ego as the manas which is its direct instrument for connecting itself with the five cognitive and conative senses. What is perceived as mere sensations by the senses is connected and generalised and formed into concepts by the manas; it is therefore spoken of as partaking of both the conative and the cognitive aspects in the Sāṃkhya-kārikā, 27.

Now though the modifications of the ego are formed successively by the preponderance of sattva, rajas and tamas, yet the rajas is always the accessory cause (sahakāri) of all these varied collocations of the guṇas; it is the supreme principle of energy and supplies even intelligence with the energy which it requires for its own conscious activity. Thus Lokācāryya says in his Tattvatraya: “the tāmasa ego developing into the material world and the sāttvika ego developing into the eleven senses, both require the help of the rājasa ego for the production of this development” (anyābhyāṃ ahaṃkārābhyām svakāryyopajanane rājasāhaṃkūraḥ sahakārī bhavati); and Barabara in his Bhāshya writes: “just as a seed-sprout requires for its growth the help of water as instrumental cause, so the rājasa ahaṃkāra (ego) works as the accessory cause (sahakāri) for the transformations of sāttvika and tāmasa ahaṃkāra into their evolutionary products.” The mode of working of this instrumental cause is described as “rajas is the mover.” The rājasa ego thus moves the sattva part to generate the senses; the tamas part generating the gross and subtle matter is also moved by the rajas, agent of movement. The rājasa ego is thus called the common cause of the movement of the sāttvika and the tāmasa ego. Vācaspati also says: “though rajas has no separate work by itself yet since sattva and tamas (which though capable of undergoing modification, do not do their work) are actionless in themselves, the agency of rajas lies in this that it moves them both for the production of the effect.”^[27] And according as the modifications are sāttvika, tāmasa or rājasika, the ego which is the cause of these different modifications is also called vaikārika, bhūtādi and taijasa. The mahat also as the source of the vaikārika, taijasa and bhūtādi ego may be said to have three aspects.

Now speaking of the relation of the sense faculties with the sense organs, we see that the latter, which are made up of the grosser elements are the vehicle of the former, for if the latter are injured in any way, the former are also necessarily affected.^[28]

To take for example the specific case of the faculty of hearing and its organ, we see that the faculty of hearing is seated in the ether (ākāśa) within our ear-hole. It is here that the power of hearing is located. When soundness or defect is noticed therein, soundness or defect is noticed in the power of hearing also. When the sounds of solids, etc., are heard, then the power of hearing located in the hollow of the ear stands in need of the resonance produced in the ākāśa of the ear.

This sense of hearing, then, having its origin in the principle of ahaṃkāra, behaves like iron, and is drawn by the sounds originated and located in the mouth of the speaker acting as loadstone, and transforms them into its own successive modifications (vṛtti) and thus senses the sounds of the speaker. And it is for this reason that for every living creature, the perception of sound in external space in the absence of defects is never void of authority. Thus Pancasikha also says, as quoted in Vyāsa-bhāshya, III. 41:

“To all those whose organs of hearing are situated in the same place (at different times) the ākāśa sustaining the sense of hearing is the same.” The ākāśa, again, in which the power of hearing is seated, is born out of the soniferous tanmātra, and has therefore the quality of sound inherent in itself. It is by this sound acting in unison that it takes the sounds of external solids, etc. This then proves that the ākāśa is the substratum of the power of hearing, and also possesses the quality of sound. And this sameness of the situation of sound is an indication of the existence of ākāśa as that which is the substratum of the auditory power (śruti) which manifests the sounds of the same class in ākāśa. Such a manifestation of sound cannot be without such an auditory sense-power. Nor is such an auditory power a quality of pṛthivī (earth), etc., because it cannot be in its own self both the manifestor and the manifested (vyahṅgya and vyañjaka), Tattvavaiśāradī, III. 41. It is the auditory power which manifests all sounds with the help of the ākāśa of the sense organ.

The theory of the guṇas was accepted by many others outside the Sāṃkhya-Yoga circle and they also offered their opinions on the nature of the categories.

There are thus other views prevalent about the genesis of the senses, to which it may be worth our while to pay some attention as we pass by.

The sāttvika ego in generating the cognitive senses with limited powers for certain specified objects of sense only accounted for their developments from itself in accompaniment with the specific tanmātras. Thus

sāttvika ego + sound potential (śabda-tanmātra) = sense of hearing.

sāttvika ego + touch potential (śparś-tanmātra) = sense of touch.

sāttvika ego + sight potential (śrūpa-tanmātra) = sense of vision.

sāttvika ego + taste potential (vasa-tanmātra) = sense of taste.

sāttvika ego + smell potential (gandha-tanmātra) = sense of smell.

The conative sense of speech is developed in association with the sense of hearing; that of hand in association with the sense of touch; that of feet in association with the sense of vision; that of upastha in association with the sense of taste; that of pāyu in association with the sense of smell.

Last of all, the manas is developed from the ego without any co-operating or accompanying cause.

The Naiyāyikas, however, think that the senses are generated by the gross elements, the ear for example by ākāśa, the touch by air and so forth. But Lokācāryya in his Tattvatraya holds that the senses are not generated by gross matter but are rather sustained and strengthened by it.

There are others who think that the ego is the instrumental and that the gross elements are the material causes in the production of the senses.

The view of the Vyāsa-bhāshya is, I believe, now quite clear since we see that the mahat through the asmitā generates from the latter (as differentiations from it, though it itself exists as integrated in the mahat), the senses, and their corresponding gross elements.

Before proceeding further to trace the development of the bhūtādi on the tanmātric side, I think it is best to refer to the views about the supposed difference between the Yoga and the views of the Sāṃkhya works about the evolution of the categories. Now according to the Yoga view two parallel lines of evolution start from mahat, one of which develops into the ego, manas, the five cognitive and the five conative senses, while on the other side it develops into the five grosser elements through the five tanmātras which are directly produced from mahat through the medium ahaṃkāra.

Thus the view as found in the Yoga works may be tabulated thus:—