Vedanta-Sutras.

The Vedanta-Sutras contain more frequent references, but they too do not help us much for chronological purposes.

Bâdarayana refers more or less clearly to the Buddhists, the Gainas, Pasupatas, and Pâñkarâtras, all of whom he is endeavouring to refute. He never refers, however, to any literary work, and even when he refers to other philosophical systems, he seems to avoid almost intentionally the recognised names of their authors, nay even their technical terms. Still it is clear that the systems of the Pûrva-Mîmâmsâ, the Yoga, Sâmkhya, and Vaiseshika were in his mind. when he composed his Sûtras, and among Mîmâmsic authorities he refers by name to Gaimini, Bâdari, Audulomi, Âsmarathya, Kâsakritsna, Karshnâgini, and Âtreya, nay to a Bâdarayana also. We cannot be far wrong therefore if we assign the gradual formation of the six systems of philosophy to the period from Buddha (fifth century) to Asoka (third century), though we have to admit, particularly in the cases of Vedanta, Sâmkhya, and Yoga a long previous development reaching back through Upanishads and Brahmanas to the very hymns of the Rig-veda.

It is equally difficult to fix the relative position1 of the great systems of philosophy, because, as I explained before, they quote each other mutually. With regard to the relation of Buddhism to the six orthodox systems it seems to me that all we can honestly say is that schools of philosophy handing down doctrines very similar to those of our six classical or orthodox systems, are presupposed by

1 Bhandarkar, Sâmkhya Philosophy (1871), p. 3.

the Buddhist Suttas. But this is very different from the opinion held by certain scholars that Buddha or his disciples actually borrowed from our Sûtras. We know nothing of Sâmkhya-literature before the Sâmkhya-kârikâs, which belong to the sixth century after Christ. Even if we admit that the Tattvasamâsa was an earlier work, how could we, without parallel dates, prove any actual borrowing on the part of Buddha or his disciples at that early time?

In the Upanishads and Brahmanas, though there is a common note running through them all, there is as yet great latitude and want of system, and a variety of opinions supported by different teachers and different schools. Even in the hymns we meet with great independence and individuality of thought, which occasionally seems to amount to downright scepticism and atheism.

We must keep all this in mind if we wish to gain a correct idea of the historical origin and growth of what we are accustomed to call the six philosophical systems of India. We have seen already that philosophical discussions were not confined to the Brâhmans, but that the Kshatriyas also took a very active and prominent part in the elaboration of such fundamental philosophical concepts as that of Âtman or

Self.

It is out of this floating mass of philosophical and religious opinion, which was common property in India, that the regular systems slowly emerged. Though we do not know in what form this took place, it is quite clear that what we now possess of philosophical manuals, in the form of Sûtras, could not have been written down during the time when writing for any practical purposes except inscrip

tions on monuments and coins was still unknown in India, or at all events had not yet been employed for literary purposes, so far as we know.

Mnemonic Literature.

It has now been generally admitted, I believe, that whenever writing has once become popular, it is next to impossible that there should be no allusion to it in the poetical or prose compositions of the people. Even as late as the time of Samkara, the written letters are still called unreal (Anrita) in comparison with the audible sounds, as classified in the Prâtisâkhyas, which are represented by them (Ved. Sûtras II, 1, 14, p. 451). There is no allusion to writing in the hymns, the Brâhmanas and Upanishads; very few, if any, in the Sûtras. The historical value of these allusions to writing which occur in the literature of the Buddhists depends, of course, on the date which we can assign, not to the original authors, but to the writers of our texts. We must never forget that there was in India during many centuries a purely mnemonic literature, which continued down to the Sûtra-period, and which was handed down from generation to generation according to a system which is fully described in the Prâtisâkhyas. What would have been the use of that elaborate system, if there had been manuscripts in existence at the same time?

When that mnemonic literature, that Smriti, came for the first time to be reduced to writing, this probably took place in something like the form of Sutras. The very helplessness of the Sûtra-style would thus become intelligible. Letters at that time were as yet monumental only, for in India also

monumental writing is anterior to literary writing, and to the adoption of a cursive alphabet. Writing material was scarce in India, and the number of those who could read must have been very small. At the same time there existed the old mnemonic literature, invested with a kind of sacred character, part and parcel of the ancient system of education, which had so far answered all purposes and was not easy to supplant. Much of that mnemonic literature has naturally been lost, unless it was reduced to writing at the proper time. Often the name may have survived, while the body of a work was entirely changed. Hence when we see the Sâmkhya mentioned by name in the Buddhist texts, such as the Visuddhi-magga (chap. XVII), it is impossible to tell whether even at that time there existed a work on the Sâmkhya-philosophy in the form of Sûtras. It is clear at all events that it could not have been our Sâmkhya-Sutras, nor even the Sâmkhya-kârikâs which seem to have superseded the ancient Sûtras early in the sixth century, while our present Sûtras date from the fourteenth.

It might be possible, if not to prove, at all events to render probable the position assigned here to Buddha's teaching as subsequent to the early growth of philosophical ideas in their systematic and more or less technical form, by a reference to the name assigned to his mother, whether it was her real name or a name assigned to her by tradition. She was called Mâyâ or Mâyâdevî. Considering that in Buddha's eyes the world was Mâyâ or illusion, it seems more likely that the name was given to his mother by early tradition, and that it was given not without a purpose. And if so this could only

have been after the name of Avidyâ (nescience) in the Vedanta, and of Prakriti in the Sâmkhya-philosophy had been replaced by the technical term of Mâyâ. It is well known that, in the old classical Upanishads, the name of Mâyâ never occurs; and it is equally significant that it does occur in the later and more or less apocryphal Upanishads. In the Svetâsvatara, for instance, I, 10, we read, Mâyâm tu Prakritim vidyât, 'Let him know that Prakriti is Mâyâ or Mâyâ Prakriti.' This refers, it would seem, to the Sâmkhya system in which Prakriti acts the part of Mâyâ and fascinates the Purusha, till he turns away from her and she ceases to exist, at all events as far as he is concerned. But whether in Sâmkhya or Vedanta, Mâyâ in its technical meaning belongs certainly to a secondary period, and it might therefore be argued that Mâyâ, as the name of Buddha's mother, is not likely to have found a place in the Buddhistic legend during the early period of Indian philosophy, as represented in the early Upanishads, and even in the Sûtras of these two prominent schools.

There was, no doubt, a certain amount of philosophical mnemonic composition after the period represented by the old Upanishads, and before the systematic arrangement of the philosophical Sutras, but whatever may have existed in it, is for ever lost We can see this clearly in the case of the Brihaspati-philosophy.

to us.

The Brihaspati-Philosophy.

Brihaspati is no doubt a very perplexing character. His name is given as that of the author of two Vedic hymns, X, 71, X, 72, a distinction being made