Mahâyânism perhaps can best be treated in two main divisions, as it has distinctly two principal features in its doctrinal development. I may call one the speculative phase of Mahâyânism and the other practical. The first part is essentially a sort of Buddhist metaphysics, where the mind is engaged solely in ratiocination and abstraction. Here the intellect plays a very prominent part, and some of the most abstruse problems of philosophy are freely discussed. Speculative followers of Buddhism have taken great interest in the discussion of them and have written many volumes on various subjects.[36] The second or practical phase of Mahâyânism deals with such religious beliefs that constitute the life and essence of the system. Mahâyânists might have reasoned wrongfully to explain their practical faith, but the faith itself is the outburst of the religious sentiment which is inherent in human nature. This practical part, therefore, is by far more important, and in fact it can be said that the speculative part is merely a preparatory step toward it. Inasmuch as Mahâyânism is a religion and not a philosophical system, it must be practical, that is, it must directly appeal to the inmost life of the human heart.
Relation of Feeling and Intellect in Religion.
So much has been said about the relation between philosophy and religion; and there are many scholars who so firmly believe in the identity of religion either with superstitions or with supernatural revelation, that the denial of this assertion is considered by them practically to be the disavowal of all religions. For, according to them, there is no midway in religion. A religion which is rational and yet practical is no religion. Now, Buddhism is neither a vagary of imagination nor a revelation from above, and on this account it has been declared by some to be a philosophy. The title “Speculative Mahâyânism” thus, is apt to be taken as a confirmation of such opinion. To remove all the misconceptions, therefore, which might be entertained concerning the religious nature of Mahâyânism and its attitude toward intellectualism, I have deemed it wise here to say a few words about the relation between feeling and intellect in religion.
There is no doubt that religion is essentially practical; it does not necessarily require theorisation. The latter, properly speaking, is the business of philosophy. If religion was a product of the intellect solely, it could not give satisfaction to the needs of man’s whole being. Reason constitutes but a part of the organised totality of an individual being. Abstraction however high, and speculation however deep, do not as such satisfy the inmost yearnings of the human heart. But this they can do when they enter into one’s inner life and constitution; that is, when abstraction becomes a concrete fact and speculation a living principle in one’s existence; in short, when philosophy becomes religion.
Philosophy as such, therefore, is generally distinguished from religion. But we must not suppose that religion as the deepest expression of a human being can eliminate altogether from it the intellectual element. The most predominant rôle in religion may be played by the imagination and feeling, but ratiocination must not fail to assert its legitimate right in the co-ordination of beliefs. When this right is denied, religion becomes fanaticism, superstition, fata morgana, and even a menace to the progress of humanity.
The intellect is critical, objective, and always tries to stand apart from the things that are taken up for examination. This alienation or keeping itself aloof from concrete facts on the part of the intellect, constantly tends to disregard the real significance of life, of which it is also a manifestation. Therefore, the conflict between feeling and reason, religion and science, instinct and knowledge, has been going on since the awakening of consciousness.
Seeing this fact, intellectual people are generally prone to condemn religion as barring the freedom and obstructing the progress of scientific investigations. It is true that religion went frequently to the other extreme and tried to suppress the just claim of reason; it is true that this was especially the case with Christianity, whose history abounds with regretable incidents resulting from its violent encroachments upon the domain of reason. It is also true that the feeling and the intellect are sometimes at variance, that what the feeling esteems as the most valuable treasure is at times relentlessly crushed by the reason, while the feeling looks with utmost contempt at the results that have been reached by the intellect after much lucubration. But this fatal conflict is no better than the fight which takes place between the head and the tail of a hydra when it is cut in twain; it always results in self-destruction.
We cannot live under such a miserable condition forever; when we know that it is altogether due to a myopia on the part of our understanding. The truth is that feeling and reason “cannot do without one another, and must work together inseparably in the process of human development, since reason without feeling could have nothing to act for and would be impotent to act, while feeling without reason would act tyrannically and blindly—that is to say, if either could exist and act at all without the other; for in the end it is not feeling nor reason, which acts, but it is the man who acts according as he feels and reasons”. (H. Maudsley’s Natural Causes and Supernatural Seemings, p. vii). If it is thus admitted that feeling and reason must co-ordinate and co-operate in the realisation of human ideals, religion, though essentially a phenomenon of the emotional life, cannot be indifferent to the significance of the intellect. Indeed, religion, as much as philosophy, has ever been speculating on the problems that are of the most vital importance to human life. In Christianity speculation has been carried on under the name of theology, though it claims to be fundamentally a religion of faith. In India, however, as mentioned elsewhere, there was no dividing line between philosophy and religion; and every teaching, every system, and every doctrine, however abstract and speculative it might appear to the Western mind, was at bottom religious and always aimed at the deliverance of the soul. There was no philosophical system that did not have some practical purpose.
Indian thinkers could not separate religion from philosophy, practice from theory. Their philosophy flowed out of the very spring of the human heart and was not a mere display of fine intellectuation. If their thinking were not in the right direction and led to a fallacy which made life more miserable, they were ever ready to surrender themselves to a superior doctrine as soon as it was discovered. But when they thought they were in the right track, they did not hesitate to sacrifice their life for it. Their philosophy had as much fire as religion.
Buddhism and Speculation.
Owing to this fact, Buddhism as much as Hinduism is full of abstract speculations and philosophical reflections so much so that some Christian critics are inclined to deny the religiosity of Buddhism. But no student of the science of comparative religion would indorse such a view nowadays. Buddhism, in spite of its predominant intellectualism, is really a religious system. There is no doubt that it emphasises the rational element of religion more than any other religious teachings, but on that account we cannot say that it altogether disregards the importance of the part to be played by the feeling. Its speculative, philosophical phase is really a preparation for fully appreciating the subjective significance of religion, for religion is ultimately subjective, that is to say, the essence of religion is love and faith, or, to use Buddhist phraseology, it is the expression of the Bodhi which consists in prajñâ[37] (intelligence or wisdom) and karunâ (love or compassion). Mere knowledge (not prajñâ) has very little value in human life. When not guided by love and faith, it readily turns out to be the most obedient servant of egoism and sensualism. What Tennyson says in the following verses is perfectly true with Buddhism:
“Who loves not knowledge? Who shall rail
Against her beauty? May she mix
With men and prosper! Who shall fix
Her pillars? Let her work prevail.“But on her forehead sits a fire;
She sets her forward countenance
And leaps into the future chance,
Submitting all things to desire.“Half grown as yet, a child, and vain—
She cannot fight the fear of death.
What is she, cut from love and faith,
But some wild Pallas from the brain“Of demons? fiery-hot to burst
All barriers in her onward race
For power. Let her know her place;
She is the second, not the first.“A higher hand must make her mild,
If all be not in vain, and guide
Her footsteps, moving side by side
With Wisdom, like the younger child.”
But it must be remembered that Buddhism never ignores the part which is played by the intellect in the purification of faith. For it is by the judicious exercise of the intellect, that all religious superstitions and prejudices are finally destroyed.
The intellect is so far of great consequence, and we must respect it as the thunderbolt of Vajrapani, which crushes everything that is mere sham and false. But at the same time we must also remember that the quintessence of religion like the house built on the solid rock never suffers on account of this destruction. Its foundation lies too deeply buried in human heart to be damaged by knowledge or science. So long as there is a human heart warm with blood and burning with the fire of life, the intellect however powerful will never be able to trample it under foot. Indeed, the more severely the religious sentiment is tested in the crucible of the intellect, the more glorious and illuminating becomes its intrinsic virtue. The true religion is, therefore, never reluctant to appear before the tribunal of scientific investigation. In fact by ignoring the ultimate significance of the religious consciousness, science is digging its own grave. For what purpose has science other than the unravelling of the mysteries of nature and reading into the meaning of existence? And is this not what constitutes the foundation of religion? Science cannot be final, it must find its reason in religion; as a mere intellectual exercise it is not worthy of our serious consideration.
Religion and Metaphysics.
The French sociologist, M. Guyau, says in his Irreligion of the Future (English translation p. 10):
“Every positive and historical religion presents three distinctive and essential elements: (1) An attempt at a mythical and non-scientific explanation of natural phenomena (divine intervention, miracles, efficacious prayers, etc.), or of historical facts (incarnation of Jesus Christ or of Buddha, revelation, and so forth); (2) A system of dogmas, that is to say, of symbolic ideas, of imaginative beliefs, forcibly imposed upon one’s faith as absolute verities, even though they are susceptible of no scientific demonstration or philosophical justification; (3) A cult and a system of rites, that is to say, of more or less immutable practices regarded as possessing a marvelous efficacy upon the course of things, a propitiatory virtue. A religion without myth, without dogma, without cult, without rite, is no more than that somewhat bastard product, ‘natural religion,’ which is resolvable to a system of metaphysical hypotheses.”
M. Guyau seems to think that what will be left in religion, when severed from its superstitions and imaginary beliefs and mysterious rites, is a system of metaphysical speculations, and that, therefore, it is not a religion. But in my opinion the French sociologist shares the error that is very prevalent among the scientific men of to-day. He is perfectly right in trying to strip religion of all its ephemeral elements and external integuments, but he is entirely wrong when he does this at the expense of its very essence, which consists of the inmost yearnings of the human heart. And this essence has no affinity with the superstitions which grow round it like excrescences as the results of insufficient or abnormal nourishment. Nor does it concern itself with mere philosophising and constructing hypotheses about metaphysical problems. Far from it. Religion is a cry from the abysmal depths of the human heart, that can never be silenced, until it finds that something and identifies itself with it, which reveals the teleological significance of life and the universe. But this something has a subjective value only, as Goethe makes Faust exclaim, “Feeling is all in all, name for it I have none.” Why? Because it cannot objectively or intellectually be demonstrated, as in the case with those laws which govern phenomenal existences,—the proper objects of the discursive human understanding. And this subjectivity of religion is what makes “all righteousnesses as filthy garments.” If religion deprived of its dogmas and cults is to be considered, as M. Guyau thinks, nothing but a system of metaphysics, we utterly lose sight of its subjective significance or its emotional element, which indeed constitutes its raison d’être.
* * *
Having this in view we proceed to see first on what metaphysical hypothesis speculative Mahâyâna Buddhism is built up; but the reader must remember that this phase of Mahâyânism is merely a preliminary to its more essential part, which we expound later under the heading of “Practical Mahâyânism,” in contradistinction to “Speculative Mahâyânism.”
Three Forms of Knowledge.
Mahâyânism generally distinguishes two or three forms of knowledge. This classification is a sort of epistemology, inasmuch as it proposes to ascertain the extent and nature of human knowledge, from a religious point of view. Its object is to see what kind of human knowledge is most reliable and valuable for the annihilation of ignorance and the attainment of enlightenment. The Mahâyâna school which has given most attention to this division of Buddhist philosophy is the Yogâcâra of Asanga and Vasubandhu. The Lankâvatarâ and the Sandhinirmocana and some other Sûtras, on which the school claims to have its doctrinal foundation, teach three forms of knowledge. The sûtra literature, however, as a rule does not enter into any detailed exposition of the subject; it merely classifies knowledge and points out what form of knowledge is most desirable by the Buddhists. To obtain a fuller and more discursive elucidation, we must come to the Abhidharma Pitaka of that school. Of the text books most generally studied of the Yogâcâra, we may mention Vasubandhu’s Vijñânamâtra with its commentaries and Asanga’s Comprehensive Treatise on Mahâyânism. The following statements are abstracted mainly from these documents.
The three forms of knowledge as classified by the Yogâcâra are: (1) Illusion (parikalpita), (2) Relative Knowledge (paratantra), and (3) Absolute Knowledge (pariniṣpanna).
Illusion.
Illusion (parikalpita), to use Kantian phraseology, is a sense-perception not co-ordinated by the categories of the understanding; that is to say, it is a purely subjective elaboration, not verified by objective reality and critical judgment. So long as we make no practical application of it, it will harbor no danger; there is no evil in it, at least religiously. Perceptual illusion is a psychical fact, and as such it is justified. A straight rod in water appears crooked on account of the refraction of light; a sensation is often felt in the limb after it has been amputated, for the nervous system has not yet adjusted itself to the new condition. They are all illusions, however. They are doubtless the correct interpretation of the sense-impressions in question, but they are not confirmed by other sense-impressions whose coördination is necessary to establish an objective reality. The moral involved in this is: all sound inferences and correct behavior must be based on critical knowledge and not on illusory premises.
Reasoning in this wise, the Mahâyânists declare that the egoism fostered by vulgar minds belongs to this class of knowledge, though of a different order, and that those who tenaciously cling to egoism as their final stronghold are believers in an intellectual fata morgana, and are like the thirsty deer that madly after the visionary water in the desert, or like the crafty monkey that tries to catch the lunar reflection in the water. Because the belief in the existence of a metaphysical agent behind our mental phenomena is not confirmed by experience and sound judgment, it being merely a product of unenlightened subjectivity.
Besides this ethical and philosophical egoism, all forms of world-conception which is founded on the sandy basis of subjective illusion, such as fetichism, idolatry, anthropomorphism, anthropopsychism, and the like, must be classed under the parikalpita-lakṣana as doctrines having illusionary premises.
Relative Knowledge.
Next comes the paratantra-lakṣana, a welt-anschauung based upon relative knowledge, or better, upon the knowledge of the law of relativity. According to this view, everything in the world has a relative and conditional existence, and nothing can claim an absolute reality free from all limitations. This closely corresponds to the theory advanced by most of modern scientists, whose agnosticism denies our intellectual capability of transcending the law of relativity.
The paratantra-lakṣana, therefore, consists in the knowledge derived from our daily intercourse with the outward world. It deals with the highest abstractions we can make out of our sensuous experiences. It is positivistic in its strictest sense. It says: The universe has only a relative existence, and our knowledge is necessarily limited. Even the highest generalisation cannot go beyond the law of relativity. It is impossible for us to know the first cause and the ultimate end of existence; nor have we any need to go thus beyond the sphere of existence, which would inevitably involve us in the maze of mystic imagination.
The paratantra-lakṣana, therefore, is a positivism, agnosticism, or empiricism in its spirit. Though the Yogâcâra Buddhists do not use all these modern philosophical terms, the interpretation here given is really what they intended to mean by the second form of knowledge. A world-conception based on this view, it is declared by the Mahâyânists, is sound as far as our perceptual knowledge is concerned; but it does not exhaust the entire field of human experience, for it does not take into account our spiritual life and our inmost consciousness. There is something in the human heart that refuses to be satisfied with merely systematising under the so-called laws of nature those multitudinous impressions which we receive from the outside world. There is a singular feeling, or sentiment, or yearning, whatever we may call it, in our inmost heart, which defies any plainer description than a mere suggestion or an indirect statement. This somewhat mystic consciousness seems despite its obscureness to contain the meaning of our existence as well as that of the universe. The intellect may try to persuade us with all its subtle reasonings to subdue this disquieting feeling and to remain contented with the systematising of natural laws, so called. But it is deceiving itself by so doing; because the intellect is but a servant to the heart, and so far as it is not forced to self-contradiction, it must accommodate itself to the needs of the heart. That is to say, we must transcend the narrow limits of conditionality and see what indispensable postulates are underlying our life and experiences. The recognition of these indispensable postulates of life constitutes the Yogâcâra’s third form of knowledge called pariniṣpanna-lakṣana.
Absolute Knowledge.
Pariniṣpanna-lakṣana literally means the world-view founded on the most perfect knowledge. According to this view, the universe is a monistico-pantheistic system. While phenomenal existences are regulated by natural laws characterised by conditionality and individuation, they by no means exhaust all our experiences which are stored in our inmost consciousness. There must be something,—this is the absolute demand of humanity, the ultimate postulate of experience,—be it Will, or Intelligence, which, underlying and animating all existences, forms the basis of cosmic, ethical, and religious life. This highest Will, or Intelligence, or both may be termed God, but the Mahâyânists call it religiously Dharmakâya, ontologically Bhûtatathâtâ, and psychologically Bodhi or Sambodhi. And they think it must be immanent in the universe manifesting itself in all places and times; it must be the cause of perpetual creation; it must be the principle of morality. This being so, how do we come to the recognition of its presence? The Buddhists say that when our minds are clear of illusions, prejudices, and egotistic assumptions, they become transparent and reflect the truth like a dust-free mirror. The illumination thus gained in our consciousness constitutes the so-called pariniṣpanna, the most perfect knowledge, that leads to Nirvâna, final salvation, and eternal bliss.
World-views Founded on the Three
Forms of Knowledge.
The reason will be obvious to the reader why the Yogâcâra school distinguishes three classes of world-conception founded on the three kinds of knowledge. The parikalpita-lakṣana is most primitive and most puerile. However, in these days of enlightenment, what is believed by the masses is naught else than a parikalpita conception of the world. The material existence as it appears to our senses is to them all in all. They seem to be unable to shake off the yoke of egoistic illusion and naïve realism. Their God must be transcendent and anthropopathic, and always willing to meddle with worldly affairs as his whim pleases. How different the world is, in which the multitudes of unreflecting minds are living, from that which is conceived by Buddhas and Bodhisattvas! Hartmann, a German thinker, is right, when he says that the masses are at least a century behind in their intellectual culture. But the most strange thing in the world is that, in spite of all their ignorance and superstitious beliefs, the waves of universal transformation are ever carrying them onward to a destination, of which, perhaps, they have not the slightest suspicion.
The paratantra-lakṣana advances a step further, but the fundamental error involved in it is its persistent self-contradictory disregard for what our inmost consciousness is constantly revealing to us. The intellect alone can by no means unravel the mystery of our entire existence. In order to reach the highest truth, we must boldly plunge with our whole being into a region where absolute darkness defying the light of intellect is supposed to prevail. This region which is no more nor less than the field of religious consciousness is shunned by most of the intellectual people on the plea that the intellect by its very nature is unable to fathom it. But the only way that leads us to the final pacification of the heart-yearnings is to go beyond the horizons of limiting reason and to resort to the faith that has been planted in the heart as the sine qua non of its own existence and vitality. And by faith I mean Prajñâ (wisdom), transcendental knowledge, that comes direct from the intelligence-essence of the Dharmakâya. A mind, so tired in vainly searching after truth and bliss in the verbiage of philosophy and the nonsense of ritualism, finds itself here completely rested bathing in the rays of divine effulgence,—whence this is, it does not question, being so filled with supramundane blessings which alone are felt. Buddhism calls this exalted spiritual state Nirvâna or Mokṣa; and pariniṣpanna-lakṣana is a world-conception which naturally follows from this subjective, ideal enlightenment.[38]
Two Forms of Knowledge.
The other Hindu Mahâyânism, the Mâdhyamika school of Nâgârjuna, distinguishes two, instead of three, orders of knowledge, but practically the Yogâcâra and the Mâdhyamika come to the same conclusion.[39]
The two kinds of knowledge or truth distinguished by the Mâdhyamika philosophy are Samvṛtti-satya and Paramârtha-satya, that is, conditional truth and transcendental truth. We read in Nâgârjuna’s Mâdhyamika Çâstra (Buddhist Text Society edition, pp. 180, 181):
“On two truths is founded
The holy doctrine of Buddhas:
Truth conditional,
And truth transcendental.“Those who verily know not
The distinction of the two truths.
Know not the essence
Of Buddhism which is meaningful.”[40]
The conditional truth includes illusion and relative knowledge of the Yogâcâra school, while the transcendental truth corresponds to the absolute knowledge.
In explaining these two truths, the Mâdhyamika philosophers have made a constant use of the terms, çûnya and açûnya, void and not-void, which unfortunately became a cause of the misunderstanding by Christian scholars of Nâgârjuna’s transcendental philosophy. Absolute truth is void in its ultimate nature, for it contains nothing concrete or real or individual that makes it an object of particularisation. But this must not be understood, as is done by some superficial critics, in the sense of absolute nothingness. The Mâdhyamika philosophers make the satya (transcendental truth) empty when contrasted with the realness of phenomenal existences. Because it is not real in the sense a particular being is real; but it is empty since it transcends the principle of individuation. When considered absolutely, it can neither be empty nor not-empty, neither çûnya nor açûnya, neither asti nor nâsti, neither abhâva nor bhâva, neither real nor unreal. All these terms imply relation and contrast, while the Paramârtha Satya is above them, or better, it unifies all contrasts and antitheses in its absolute oneness. Therefore, even to designate it at all may lead to the misunderstanding of the true nature of the Satya, for naming is particularising. It is not, as such, an object of intellectuation or of demonstrative knowledge. It underlies everything conditional and phenomenal, and does not permit itself to be a particular object of discrimination.
Transcendental Truth and Relative
Understanding.
One may say: If transcendental truth is of such an abstract nature, beyond the reach of the understanding, how can we ever hope to attain it and enjoy its blessings? But Nâgârjuna says that it is not absolutely out of the ken of the understanding; it is, on the contrary, through the understanding that we become acquainted with the quarter towards which our spiritual efforts should be directed, only let us not cling to the means by which we grasp the final reality. A finger is needed to point at the moon, but when we have recognised the moon, let us no more trouble ourselves with the finger. The fisherman carries a basket to take the fish home, but what need has he to worry about the basket when the contents are safely on the table? Only so long as we are not yet aware of the way to enlightenment, let us not ignore the value of relative knowledge or conditional truth or lokasamvṛttisatya as Nâgârjuna terms it.
“If not by worldly knowledge,
The truth is not understood;
When the truth is not approached,
Nirvâna is not attained.”[41]
From this, it is to be inferred that Buddhism never discourages the scientific, critical investigation of religious beliefs. For it is one of the functions of science that it should purify the contents of a belief and that it should point out in which direction our final spiritual truth and consolation have to be sought. Science alone which is built on relative knowledge is not able to satisfy all our religious cravings, but it is certainly able to direct us to the path of enlightenment. When this path is at last revealed, we shall know how to avail ourselves of the discovery, as then Prajñâ (or Sambodhi, or Wisdom) becomes the guide of life. Here we enter into the region of the unknowable. The spiritual facts we experience are not demonstrable, for they are so direct and immediate that the uninitiated are altogether at a loss to get a glimpse of them.
From the ontological point of view, Paramârtha-satya or Pariniṣpanna (transcendental truth) is called Bhûtatathâtâ, which literally means “suchness of existence.” As Buddhism does not separate being from thought nor thought from being, what is suchness in the objective world, is transcendental truth in the subjective world, and vice versa Bhûtatathâtâ, then, is the Godhead of Buddhism, and it marks the consummation of all our mental efforts to reach the highest principle, which unifies all possible contradictions and spontaneously directs the course of world-events. In short, it is the ultimate postulate of existence. Like Paramârtha-satya, as above stated, it does not belong to the domain of demonstrative knowledge or sensuous experience; it is unknowable by the ordinary processes of intellectuation, which the natural sciences use in the formulation of general laws; and it is grasped, declare the Buddhists, only by the minds that are capable of exercising what might be called religious intuition.
Açvaghoṣa argues, in his Awakening of Faith for the indefinability of this first principle. When we say it is çûnya or empty, on account of its being independent of all the thinkable qualities, which we attribute to things relative and conditional, people would take it for the nothingness of absolute void. But when we define it as a real reality, as it stands above the evanescence of phenomena, they would imagine that there is something individual and existing outside the pale of this universe, which, though as concrete as we ourselves are, lives an eternal life. It is like describing to the blind what an elephant looks like; each one of them gets but a very indistinct and imperfect conception of the huge creature, yet every one of them thinks he has a true and most comprehensive idea of it.[42] Açvaghoṣa, thus, wishes to eschew all definite statements concerning the ultimate nature of being, but as language is the only mode with which we mortals can express our ideas and communicate them to others, he thinks the best expression that can be given to it is Bhûtatathâtâ, i.e., “suchness of existence,” or simply, “suchness.”
Bhûtatathâtâ (suchness), thus absolutely viewed, does not fall under the category of being and non-being; and minds which are kept within the narrow circle of contrasts, must be said to be incapable of grasping it as it truly is. Says Nâgârjuna in his Çâstra (Ch. XV.):
“Between thisness (svabhâva) and thatness (parabhâva),
Between being and non-being,
Who discriminates,
The truth of Buddhism he perceives not.”[43]
Or,
“To think ‘it is’, is eternalism,
To think ‘it is not’, is nihilism:
Being and non-being,
The wise cling not to either.”[44]
Again,
“The dualism of ‘to be’ and ‘not to be,’
The dualism of pure and not-pure:
Such dualism having abandoned,
The wise stand not even in the middle.”[45]
To quote, again, from the Awakening of Faith (pp. 58-59): “In its metaphysical origin, Bhûtatathâtâ has nothing to do with things defiled, i.e., conditional: it is free from all signs of individualisation, such as exist in phenomenal objects: it is independent of an unreal, particularising consciousness.”
Indefinability.
Absolute Suchness from its very nature thus defies all definitions. We cannot even say that it is, for everything that is presupposes that which is not: existence and non-existence are relative terms as much as subject and object, mind and matter, this and that, one and other: one cannot be conceived without the other. “It is not so (na iti)[46],” therefore, may be the only way our imperfect human tongue can express it. So the Mahâyânists generally designate absolute Suchness as Çûnyatâ or void.
But when this most significant word, çûnyatâ, is to be more fully interpreted, we would say with Açvaghoṣa that “Suchness is neither that which is existence nor that which is non-existence; neither that which is at once existence and non-existence, nor that which is not at once existence and non-existence; it is neither that which is unity nor that which is plurality; neither that which is at once unity and plurality, nor that which is not at once unity and plurality.”[47]
Nâgârjuna’s famous doctrine of “The Middle Path of Eight No’s” breathes the same spirit, which declares:
“There is no death, no birth, no destruction, no persistence,
No oneness, no manyness, no coming, no departing,”[48]
Elsewhere, he expresses the same idea in a somewhat paradoxical manner, making the historical Buddha a real concrete manifestation of Suchness:
“After his passing, deem not thus:
‘The Buddha still is here,’
He is above all contrasts,
To be and not to be.“While living, deem not thus:
‘The Buddha is now here.’
He is above all contrasts,
To be and not to be.”[49]
This view of Suchness as no-ness abounds in the literature of the Dhyâna school of Mahâyânism. To cite one instance: When Bodhi-Dharma[50], the founder of the Dhyâna sect, saw Emperor Wu of Liang dynasty (A.D. 502-556), he was asked what the first principle of the Holy Doctrine was, he did not give any lengthy, periphrastic statement after the manner of a philosopher, but laconically replied, “Vast emptiness and nothing holy.” The Emperor was bewildered and did not know how to take the words of his holy adviser. Naturally, he did not expect such an abrupt answer, and, being greatly disappointed, ventured another question: “Who is he, then, that stands before me?” By this he meant to repudiate the doctrine of absolute Suchness. His line of argument being this: If there is nothing in the ultimate nature of things that distinguishes between holiness and sinfulness, why this world of contrasts, where some are revered as holy, for instance, Bodhi-Dharma who is at this very moment standing in front of him with the mission of propagating the holy teachings of Buddha? Bodhi-Dharma, however, was a mystic and was fully convinced of the insufficiency of the human tongue to express the highest truth which is revealed only intuitively to the religious consciousness. His conclusive answer was, “I do not know”.[51]
This “I do not know” is not to be understood in the spirit of agnosticism, but in the sense of “God when understood is no God,” for in se est et per se conceptur. This way of describing Suchness by negative terms only, excluding all differences of name and form (nâmarûpa) to reach a higher kind of affirmation, seems to be the most appropriate one, inasmuch as the human understanding is limited in so many respects; but, nevertheless, it has caused much misinterpretation even among Buddhists themselves, not to mention those Christian Buddhist scholars of to-day, who sometimes appear almost wilfully to misconstrue the significance of the çûnyatâ philosophy. It was to avoid these unfortunate misinterpretations that the Mahâyânists frequently made the paradoxical assertion that absolute Suchness is empty and not empty, çûnya and açunya, being and non-being, sat and asat, one and many, this and that.
The “Thundrous Silence.”
There yet remains another mode of explaining absolute Suchness, which though most practical and most effective for the religiously disposed minds, may prove very inadequate to a sceptical intellect. It is the “thundrous silence” of Vimalakîrti in response to an inquiry concerning the nature of Suchness or the “Dharma of Non-duality,” as it is termed in the Sûtra.[52]
Bodhisattva Vimalakîrti once asked a host of Bodhisattvas led by Mañjuçri, who came to visit him, to express their views as to how to enter into the Dharma of Non-duality. Some replied, “Birth and death are two, but the Dharma itself was never born and will never die. Those who understand this are said to enter into the Dharma of Non-duality.” Some said, “ ‘I’ and ‘mine’ are two. Because I think ‘I am’ there are things called ‘mine.’ But as there is no ‘I am’ where shall we look for things ‘mine’? By thus reflecting we enter into the Dharma of Non-duality.” Some replied, “Samsâra and Nirvâna are two. But when we understand the ultimate nature of Samsâra, Samsâra vanishes from our consciousness, and there is neither bondage nor release, neither birth nor death. By thus reflecting we enter into the Dharma of Non-duality”. Others said, “Ignorance and enlightenment are two. No ignorance, no enlightenment, and there is no dualism. Why? Because those who have entered a meditation in which there is no sense-impression, no cogitation, are free from ignorance as well as from enlightenment. This holds true with all the other dualistic categories. Those who enter thus into the thought of sameness are said to enter into the Dharma of Non-duality.” Still others answered, “To long for Nirvâna and to shun worldliness are of dualism. Long not for Nirvâna, shun not worldliness, and we are free from dualism. Why? Because bondage and release are relative terms, and when there is no bondage from the beginning, who wishes to be released? No bondage, no release, and therefore no longing, no shunning: this is called the entering into the Dharma of Non-duality.”
Many more answers of similar nature came forth from all the Bodhisattvas in the assembly except the leader Mañjuçri. Vimalakîrti now requested him to give his own view, and to this Mañjuçri responded, “What I think may be stated thus: That which is in all beings wordless, speechless, shows no signs, is not possible of cognisance, and is above all questionings and answerings,—to know this is said to enter into the Dharma of Non-duality.”
Finally, the host Vimalakîrti himself was demanded by Mañjuçri to express his idea of Non-duality, but he kept completely silent and uttered not a word. Thereupon, Mañjuçri admiringly exclaimed, “Well done, well done! The Dharma of Non-duality is truly above letters and words!”[53]
Now, of this Suchness, the Mahâyânists distinguish two aspects, as it is comprehended by our consciousness, which are conditional and non-conditional, or the phenomenal world of causality and the transcendental realm of absolute freedom. This distinction corresponds to that, in the field of knowledge, of relative truth and transcendental truth.[54]
Suchness Conditioned.
Absolute transcendental Suchness defying all means of characterisation does not, as long as it so remains, have any direct significance in the phenomenal world and human life. When it does, it must become conditional Suchness as Gesetzmässigkeit in nature and as ethical order in our practical life. Suchness as absolute is too remote, too abstract, and may have only a metaphysical value. Its existence or non-existence seems not to affect us in our daily social life, inasmuch as it is transcendental. In order to enter into our limited consciousness, to become the norm of our conscious activities, to regulate the course of the evolutionary tide in nature, Suchness must surrender its “splendid isolation,” must abandon its absoluteness.
When Suchness thus comes down from its sovereign-seat in the realm of unthinkability, we have this universe unfolded before our eyes in all its diversity and magnificence. Twinkling stars inlaid in the vaulted sky; the planet elaborately decorated with verdant meadows, towering mountains, and rolling waves; the birds cheerfully singing in the woods; the beasts wildly running through the thickets; the summer heavens ornamented with white fleecy clouds and on earth all branches and leaves growing in abundant luxury; the winter prairie destitute of all animation, only with naked trees here and there trembling in the dreary north winds; all these manifestations, not varying a hair’s breadth of deviation from their mathematical, astronomical, physical, chemical, and biological laws, are naught else than the work of conditional Suchness in nature.
When we turn to human life and history, we have the work of conditional Suchness manifested in all forms of activity as passions, aspirations, imaginations, intellectual efforts, etc. It makes us desire to eat when hungry, and to drink when thirsty; it makes the man long for the woman, and the woman for the man; it keeps children in merriment and frolic; it braces men and women bravely to carry the burden of life. When we are oppressed, it causes us to cry, “Let us have liberty or die”; when we are treated with injustice, it leads us even to murder and fire and revolution; when our noble sentiments are aroused to the highest pitch, it makes us ready to sacrifice all that is most dear to us. In brief, all the kaleidoscopic changes of this phenomenal world, subjective as well as objective, come from the playing hands of conditional Suchness It not only constitutes the goodness and blessings of life, but the sins, crimes, and misery which the flesh is heir to.[55]
Açvaghoṣa in his Awakening of Faith speaks of the Heart (hṛdaya) of Suchness and of the Heart of Birth-and-Death. By the Heart of Suchness he means the absolute and by the Heart of Birth-and-Death a manifestation of the absolute in this world of particulars. “They are not separate,” however, says he, but they are one, for the Heart of Suchness is the Heart of Birth-and-Death. It is on account of our limited senses and finite mind that we have a world of particulars, which, as it is, is no more than a fragment of the absolute Bhûtatathâtâ. And yet it is through this fragmentary manifestation that we are finally enabled to reach the fundamental nature of being in its entirety. Says Açvaghoṣa, “Depending on the Tathâgata-garbha, there evolves the Heart of Birth-and-Death. What is immortal and what is mortal are harmoniously blended, for they are not one, nor are they separate..... Herein all things are organised. Hereby all things are created.”
The above is from the ontological standpoint. When viewed psychologically, the Heart of Suchness is enlightenment, for Buddhism makes no distinction between being and thought, world and mind. The ultimate nature of the two is considered to be absolutely one. Now, speaking of the nature of enlightenment, Açvaghoṣa says: “It is like the emptiness of space and the brightness of the mirror in that it is true, and real, and great. It completes and perfects all things. It is free from the condition of destructibility. In it is reflected every phase of life and activity in the world. Nothing goes out of it, nothing enters into it, nothing is annihilated, nothing is destroyed. It is one eternal soul, no forms of defilement can defile it. It is the essence of intelligence. By reason of its numerous immaculate virtues which inhere in it, it perfumes the hearts of all beings.” Thus, the Heart of Suchness, which is enlightenment and the essence of intelligence, constantly works in and through the hearts of all human beings, that is, in and through our finite minds. In this sense, Buddhism declares that truth is not to be sought in highly abstract philosophical formulæ, but in the phenomena of our everyday life such as eating, dressing, walking, sleeping, etc. The Heart of Suchness acts and does not abstract; it synthesises and does not “dissect to murder.”
Questions Defying Solution.
Speaking of the world as a manifestation of Suchness, we are here beset with the most puzzling questions that have baffled the best minds ever since the dawn of intellect. They are: Why did Suchness ever leave its abode in the mysterious realm of transcendentality and descend on earth where every form of misery greets us on all sides? What inherent necessity was there for it to mingle in the dust of worldliness while it could enjoy the unspeakable bliss of its own absoluteness? In other words, why did absolute Suchness ever become conditional Suchness? To dispose of these questions as not concerning human interests is the creed of agnosticism and positivism; but the fact is, they are not questions whimsically framed by the human mind when it was in the mood of playing with itself. They are queries of the most vital importance ever put to us, and the significance of life entirely hangs on our interpretation of them.
Buddhism confesses that the mystery is unsolvable purely by the human mind, for it is absolutely beyond the region of finite intellect and the power of a logical demonstrability. The mystery can only be solved in a practical way when we attain the highest spiritual enlightenment of Buddhahood, in which the Bodhi with its unimpeded supernatural light directly looks into the very abyss of Suchness. The Bodhi or Intelligence which constitutes the kernel of our being, is a partial realisation in us of Suchness. When this intelligence is merged and expands in the Body of Suchness, as the water in a vessel poured into the waters of the boundless ocean, it at once perceives and realises its nature, its destiny, and its significance in life.
Buddhism is a religion and leaves many topics of metaphysics unsolved, at least logically. Though it is more intellectual and philosophical than any other religion, it does not pretend to build a complete system of speculation. As far as theorisation is concerned, Buddhism is dogmatic and assumes many propositions without revealing their dialectical processes. But they are all necessary and fundamental hypotheses of the religious consciousness; they are the ultimate demands of the human soul. Religion has no positive obligation to prove its propositions after the fashion of the natural sciences. It is enough for religion to state the facts as they are, and the intellect, though hampered by limitations inherent in it, has to try her best to put them together in a coherent system.
The solution, then, by Buddhism of those queries stated above cannot be said to be very logical and free from serious difficulties, but practically it serves all required purposes and is conducive to religious discipline. By this I mean the Buddhist theory of Nescience or Ignorance (avidyâ).
Theory of Ignorance.
The theory of nescience or ignorance (avidyâ) is an attempt by Buddhists to solve the relation between the one and the many, between absolute Suchness and conditional Suchness, between Dharmakâya and Sarvasattva, between wisdom (bodhi) and sin (kleça), between Nirvâna and Samsâra. But Buddhism does not give us any systematic exposition of the doctrine. What it says is categorical and dogmatic. “This universe is really the Dharmadhâtu;[56] it is characterised by sameness (samatâ); there is no differentiation (visama) in it; it is even emptiness itself (çûnyatâ); all things have no pudgala (self). But, because of nescience, there are four or six mahâbhûta (elements), five skandha (aggregates), six (or eight) vijñâna (senses), and twelve nidâna (chains of causation). All these names and forms (nâmarûpa) are of nescience or ignorance.” Or, according to Açvaghoṣa, “The Heart of Suchness is the vast All of one Dharmadhâtu; it is the essence of all doctrines. The ultimate nature does not perish, nor does it decay. All particular objects exist because of confused subjectivity (smṛti).[57] Independent of confused subjectivity, there is no outside world to be perceived and discriminated.” “Everything that is subject to the law of birth and death exists only because of ignorance and karma.” Such statements as these are found almost everywhere in the Buddhist literature; but as to the question how and why this negative principle of ignorance came to assert itself in the body of Suchness, we are at a loss where to find an authoritative and definite answer to it.
One thing, however, is certain, which is this: Ignorance (avidyâ) is principium individium, that creates the multitudinousness of phenomena in the absolute oneness of being, that tosses up the roaring billows of existence in the eternal ocean of Suchness, that breaks the silence of Nirvâna and starts the wheel of metempsychosis perpetually rolling, that, veiling the transpicuous mirror of Bodhi, affects the reflection of Suchness therein, that transforms the sameness (samatâ) of Suchness to the duality of thisness and thatness and leads many confused minds to egoism with all its pernicious corollaries.
Perhaps, the best way to attack the problem of ignorance is to understand that Buddhism is a thoroughly idealistic doctrine as every true religion should be, and that psychologically, and not ontologically, should Suchness be conceived, and further, that nescience is inherent in Suchness, though only hypothetically, illusively, apparently, and not really in any sense.
According to Brahmanism, there was in the beginning only one being; and this being willed to be two; which naturally resulted in the differentiation of subject and object, mind and nature. In Buddhism, however, Suchness is not explicitly stated as having had any desire to be other than itself, at least when it is purely metaphysically conceived. But as Buddhism interprets this world of particularisation as a manifestation of Suchness conditioned by the principle of ignorance, ignorance must be considered, however illusory in its ultimate nature, to have potentially or rather negatively existed in the being of Suchness; and when Suchness, by its transcendental freedom of will, affirmed itself, it did so by negating itself, that is, by permitting itself to be conditioned by the principle of ignorance or individuation. The latter, as is expressly stated everywhere in Buddhist sûtras and çâstras, is no more than an illusion and a negative quantity, it is merely the veil of Mâya. This chimerical nature of ignorance preserves the essential absoluteness of the first principle and makes the monism of the Mahâyâna doctrine thoroughly consistent. What is to be noted here, however, is this: Buddhism does not necessarily regard this world of particulars as altogether evanescent and dream-like. When ignorance alone is taken notice of and the presence of Suchness in all this multitudinousness of things is denied, this existence is positively declared to be void. But when an enlightened mind perceives Suchness even in the midst of the utter darkness of ignorance, this life assumes an entirely new aspect, and we come to realise the illusiveness of all evils.
To return to the subject, ignorance or nescience is defined by Açvaghoṣa as a spark of consciousness[58] that spontaneously flashes from the unfathomable depths of Suchness. According to this, ignorance and consciousness are interchangeable terms, though with different shades of meaning. Ignorance is, so to speak, the raison d’être of consciousness, is that which makes the appearance of the latter possible, while ignorance itself is in turn an illusive emanation of Suchness. It is then evident that the awakening of consciousness marks the first step toward the rising of this universe from the abyss of the self-identity of Suchness. For the unfolding of consciousness implies the separation of the perceiving and the perceived, the viṣayin and the viṣaya, of subject and object, mind and nature.
The eternal abyss of Suchness, so called, is the point where subjectivity and objectivity are merged in absolute oneness. It is the time, though strictly speaking chronology does not apply here, when all “the ten thousand things” of the world have not yet been differentiated and even when the God who “created the heaven and earth” has not yet made his debut. To use psychological terms, it is a state of transcendental or transmarginal consciousness, where all sense-perceptions and conceptual images vanish, and where we are in a state of absolute unconsciousness. This sounds mystical; but it is an established fact that in the field of our mental activities there is an abyss where consciousness sometimes suddenly disappears. This region beyond the threshold of awaredness, though often a trysting place for psychical abnormalities, has a great religious significance, which cannot be ignored by superficial scientific arguments. Here is the region where the consciousness of subject and object is completely annihilated, but here we do not have the silence and darkness of a grave, nor is it a state of absolute nothingness. The self is here lost in the presence of something indescribable, or better, it expands so as to embrace the world-all within itself, and is not conscious of any egoistic elation or arrogance; but it merely feels the fulness of reality and a touch of celestial joy that cannot be imparted to others by anything human. The most convincing spiritual insight into the nature of being comes from this source. Enlightenment is the name given by Buddhists to the actual gaining of this insight. Bodhi or Prajñâ or intelligence is the term for the spiritual power that brings about this enlightenment.
When the mind emerges from this state of sameness, consciousness spontaneously comes back as it vanished before, retaining the memory of the experience so unique and now confronting the world of contrasts and mutual dependence, in which our empirical ego moves. The transition from one state to the other is like a flash of lightning scintilating from behind the clouds; though the two, the subliminal and the superficial consciousness, seem to be one continuous form of activity, permitting no hiatus between them. At any rate, this awakening of subjectivity and the leaving behind of transmarginal consciousness marks the start of ignorance. Therefore, psychologically speaking, ignorance must be considered synonymous with the awakening of consciousness in a sentient being.
Here we have the most mysterious fact that baffles all our intellectual efforts to unravel, which is: How and why has ignorance, or what is tantamount, consciousness, ever been awakened from the absolute calmness (çānti) of being? How and why have the waves of mentation ever been stirred up in the ocean of eternal tranquillity? Açvaghoṣa simply says, “spontaneously.” This by no means explains anything, or at least it is not in the line with our so-called scientific interpretations, nor does it give us any reason why. Nevertheless, religiously and practically viewed, “spontaneous” is the most graphic and vigorous term there is for describing the actual state of things as they pass before our mental eye. In fact, there is always something vague and indefinite in all our psychological experiences. With whatever scientific accuracy, with whatever objective precision we may describe the phenomena that take place in the mind, there is always something that eludes our scrutiny, is too slippery, as it were, to take hold of; so that after all our strenuous intellectual efforts to be exact and perspicuous in our expositions, we are still compelled to leave much to the imagination of the reader. In case he happens to be lacking in the experience which we have endeavored to describe we shall vainly hope to awaken in him the said impression with the same degree of intensity and realness.
It is for this reason that Açvaghoṣa and other Mahâyânists declare that the rising of consciousness out of the abysmal depths of Suchness is felt by Buddhas and other enlightened minds only that have actually gone through the experience. The why of ignorance nobody can explain as much as the why of Suchness. But when we personally experience this spiritual fact, we no more feel the need of harboring any doubt about how or why. Everything becomes transparent, and the rays of supernatural enlightenment shine like a halo round our spiritual personality. We move as dictated by the behest of Suchness, i.e., by the Dharmakâya, and in which we feel infinite bliss and satisfaction. This religious experience is the most unique phenomenon in the life of a sentient being.
Dualism and Moral Evil.
As we cannot think that the essence of the external world to be other than that of our own mind, that is to say, as we cannot think subject and object to be different in their ultimate nature, our conclusion naturally is that the same principle of Ignorance which gathers the clouds of subjectivity, calls up the multitudinousness of phenomena in the world-mind of Suchness. The universe in its entirety is an infinite mind, and our limited mind with its transmarginal consciousness is a microcosm. What the finite mind feels in its inmost self, must also be what the cosmic mind feels; nay, we can go one step further, and say that when the human mind enters the region lying beyond the border of subjectivity and objectivity, it is in communion with the heart of the universe, whose secrets are revealed here without reserve. Therefore, Buddhism does not make any distinction between knowing and being, enlightenment and Suchness. When the mind is free from ignorance and no more clings to things particular, it is said to be in harmony and even one with Suchness.
We must, however, remember that ignorance as the principle of individuation and a spontaneous expression of Suchness, is no moral evil. The awakening of subjectivity or the dawn of consciousness forms part of the necessary cosmic process. The separation of subject and object, or the appearance of a phenomenal world, is nothing but a realisation of the cosmic mind (Dharmakâya). As such Ignorance performs an essential function in the evolution of the world-totality. Ignorance is inherent in Buddhas as well as in all sentient beings. Every one of us cannot help perceiving an external world (viṣaya) and forming conceptions and reasoning and feeling and willing. We do not see any moral fault here. If there is really anything morally wrong, then we cannot do anything with it, we are utterly helpless before it, for it is not our fault, but that of the cosmic soul from which and in which we have our being.
Ignorance has produced everywhere a state of relativity and reciprocal dependence. Birth is inseparably linked with death, congregation with segregation, evolution with involution, attraction with repulsion, the centripetal with the centrifugal force, the spring with the fall, the tide with the ebb, joy with sorrow, God with Satan, Adam with Eve, Buddha with Devadatta, etc., etc., ad infinitum. These are necessary conditions of existence; and if existence is an evil, they must be abolished, and with their abolition the very reason of existence is abolished, which means absolute nothingness, an impossibility as long as we exist. The work of ignorance in the world of conditional Suchness is quite innocent, and Buddhists do not recognise any fault in its existence, if not contaminated by confused subjectivity. Those who speak of the curse of existence, or those who conceive Nirvâna to be the abode of non-existence and the happiness of absolute annihilation, are considered by Buddhists to be unable to understand the significance of Ignorance.
Is there then no fault to be found with Ignorance? Not in Ignorance itself, but in our defiled attachment to it, that is, when we are ignorant of Ignorance. It is wrong to cling to the dualism of subject and object as final and act accordingly. It is wrong to take the work of ignorance as ultimate and to forget the foundation on which it stands. It is wrong, thinking that the awakening of consciousness reveals the whole world, to ignore the existence of unseen realities. In short, evils quickly follow our steps when we try to realise the conclusions of ignorance without knowing its true relation to Suchness. Egoism is the most fundamental of all errors and evils.
When we speak of ignorance as hindering the light of intelligence from penetrating to the bottom of reality, we usually understand the term ignorance not in the philosophical sense of principium individuum, but in the sense of confused subjectivity, which conceives the work of Ignorance as the final reality culminating in egoism. So, we might say that while the principle of Ignorance is philosophically justified, its unenlightened actualisation in our practical life is altogether unwarranted and brings on us a series of dire calamities.
Suchness (Bhûtatathâtâ), the ultimate principle of existence, is known by so many different names, as it is viewed in so many different phases of its manifestation. Suchness is the Essence of Buddhas, as it constitutes the reason of Buddhahood; it is the Dharma, when it is considered the norm of existence; it is the Bodhi when it is the source of intelligence; Nirvana, when it brings eternal peace to a heart troubled with egoism and its vile passions; Prajñâ (wisdom), when it intelligently directs the course of nature; the Dharmakâya, when it is religiously considered as the fountain-head of love and wisdom; the Bodhicitta (intelligence-heart), when it is the awakener of religious consciousness; Çûnyatâ (vacuity), when viewed as transcending all particular forms; the summum bonum (kuçalam), when its ethical phase is emphasised; the Highest Truth (paramârtha), when its epistemological feature is put forward; the Middle Path (mâdhyamârga), when it is considered above the onesidedness and limitation of individual existences; the Essence of Being (bhûtakoti), when its ontological aspect is taken into account; the Tathâgata-garbha (the Womb of Tathâgata), when it is thought of in analogy to mother earth, where all the germs of life are stored, and where all precious stones and metals are concealed under the cover of filth. And it is of this last aspect of Suchness that I here propose to consider at some length.
The Tathâgata-Garbha and Ignorance.
Tathâgata-Garbha literally means Tathâgata’s womb[59] or treasure or store, in which the essence of Tathâgatahood remains concealed under the veil of Ignorance. It may rightly be called the womb of universe, from which issues forth the multitudinousness of things, mental as well as physical.
The Tathâgata-Garbha, therefore, may be explained ontologically as a state of Suchness quickened by Ignorance and ready to be realised in the world of particulars, that is, when it is about to transform itself to the duality of subject and object, though there is yet no perceptible manifestation of motility in any form. Psychologically, it is the transcendental soul of man just coming under the bondage of the law of karmaic causation. Though pure and free in its nature as the expression of Suchness in man, the transcendental soul or pure intelligence is now influenced by the principle of birth-and-death and subjects itself to organic determinations. As it is, it is yet devoid of differentiation and limitation, save that there is a bare possibility of them. It will, however, as soon as it is actualised in a special form, unfold all its particularities subject to their own laws; it will hunger, desire, strive, and even be annoyed by its material bonds, and then, beginning to long for liberation, will struggle inwardly. Here is then no more of the absolute freedom of Suchness, as long as its phenomenal phase alone is considered, since the Garbha works under the constraint of particularisation. The essence of Tathâgatahood, however, is here preserved intact, and, whenever it is possible, our finite minds are able to feel its presence and power. Hypothetically, therefore, the Garbha is always in association with passions and desires that are of Ignorance.
We read in the Çrimâlâ-Sûtra: “With the storage of passions attached we find the Tathâgata-Garbha,” or, “The Dharmakâya of the Tathâgata not detached from the storage of passions is called Tathâgata-Garbha.” In Buddhism, passion or desire or sin (kleça) is generally used in contrast to intelligence or Bodhi or Nirvâna. As the latter, religiously considered, represents a particular manifestation in the human mind of the Dharmakâya or Bhûtatathâtâ, so the former is a reflection of universal Ignorance in the microcosm. Therefore, the human soul in which, according to Buddhism, intelligence and desire are merged, should be regarded as an individuation of the Tathâgata-Garbha. And it is in this capacity that the Garbha is called Âlayavijñâna.
The Âlayavijñâna and its Evolution.
As we have seen, the Âlayavijñâna or All-Conserving Soul is a particularised expression in the human mind of the Tathâgata-Garbha. It is an individual, ideal reflex of the cosmic Garbha. It is this “psychic germ,” as the Âlaya is often designated, that stores all the mental possibilities, which are set in motion by the impetus of an external world, which works on the Âlaya through the six senses (vijñâna).
Mahâyânism is essentially idealistic and does not make a radical, qualitative distinction between subject and object, thought and being, mind and nature, consciousness and energy. Therefore, the being and activity of the Âlaya are essentially those of the Garbha; and again, as the Garbha is the joint creation of universal Ignorance and Suchness, so is the Âlaya the product of desire (kleça) and wisdom (bodhi). The Garbha and the Âlaya, however, are each in itself innocent and absolutely irresponsible for the existing state of affairs. And let it be remarked here that Buddhism does not condemn this life and universe for their wickedness as was done by some religious teachers and philosophers. The so-called wickedness is not radical in nature and life. It is merely superficial. It is the work of ignorance and desire, and when they are converted to do service for the Bodhi, they cease to be wicked or sinful or evil. Buddhists, therefore, strongly insist on the innate and intrinsic goodness of the Âlaya and the Garbha.