though the names of Kapila, Vyasa, and Gotama may seem to have an older air than those of Patañgali, Gaimini, and Kanâda, we must not in such matters allow ourselves to be guided by mere impressions. The often-cited passage from the Vedanta-Sûtras II, 1, 3, Etena Yogah pratyuktah, 'By this the Yoga is refuted,' proves of course no more than the existence of a Yoga-philosophy at the time of Bâdarâyana; it cannot be used to prove the existence of the YogaSûtras, such as we possess them, as previous to the composition of the Vedanta-Sûtras.

.

Meanings of the word Yoga.

Even native

In the Bhagavad-gîtâ Yoga is defined as Samatva, equability (II, 48). It has been repeated again and again that Yoga, from Yug, to join, meant originally joining the deity, or union with it. authors occasionally favour that view. A moment's consideration, however, would have shown that such an idea could never have entered the mind of a Sâmkhya, for the simple reason that there was nothing for him that he could have wished to join. Even the Vedântist does not really join Brahman, though this is a very common misconception; nay, a movement of the soul towards Brahman is distinctly guarded against as impossible. The soul is always Brahman, even though it does not know it, and it only requires the removal of ignorance for the soul to recover its Brahmahood, or to become what it always has been. Yug, from meaning to join, came, by means of a very old metaphor, to mean to join oneself to something, to harness oneself for some work. Thus Yug assumed the sense of preparing for hard work, whether preparing others or getting

ready oneself. And as people with us use the expression to go into harness, i. e. to prepare for work, or to buckle-to, i. e. to get ready for hard work, Yug, particularly in the Âtmanepada, came to mean to exert oneself. Possibly the German Angespannt and Anspannung may have been suggested by the same metaphor, though the usual explanation is that it was so by a metaphor taken from the stretching of the bow. In Sanskrit this Yug is often used with such words as Manas, Kittam, Âtman, &c., in the sense of concentrating or exerting one's mind; and it is in this sense only that our word Yoga could have sprung from it, meaning, as the Yoga-Sûtras tell us at the very beginning, I, 2, the effort of restraining the activities or distractions of our thoughts (Kitta-vritti-nirodha), or the effort of concentrating our thoughts on a definite object.

Yoga, not Union, but Disunion.

A false interpretation of the term Yoga as union has led to a total misrepresentation of Patangali's philosophy. Rajendralal Mitra, p. 208, was therefore quite right when he wrote: Professor Weber, in his History of Indian Literature (pp. 238-9), has entirely misrepresented the case. He says, "One very peculiar side of the Yoga doctrine-and one which was more and more developed as time went on-is the Yoga practice, that is, the outward means, such as penances, mortifications, and the like, whereby this absorption into the supreme Godhead is sought to be attained." The idea of absorption," he continues rightly, "into the supreme Godhead forms no part of the Yoga theory." 'Patangali, like Kapila," he adds, “rests satisfied with the isolation of the soul, and does not

66

6

pry into the how and where the soul abides after separation." But when he charges the professor with not having read the Yoga he goes a little too far, and he ought to have known, from his own experience, that it is small blame to a man who writes a complete history of Indian literature, if he has not read every book on which he has to pronounce an opinion. Even the best historian of German literature can hardly have read every German author of any eminence, much less can the first historian of Sanskrit literature.

Rajendralal Mitra, however, is quite right so far that Yoga, in the philosophy of Patañgali and Kapila, did not mean union with God, or anything but effort (Udyoga, not Samyoga), pulling oneself together, exertion, concentration. Yoga might mean union, but the proper term would have been Samyoga. Thus we read in the Bhagavad-gîtâ II, 50:Buddhiyukto gahâtîha ubhe sukritadushkrite, Tasmâd yogaya yugyasva, yogah karmasu kausalam. 'He who is devoted to knowledge leaves behind both good and evil deeds; therefore devote yourself to tom Yoga, Yoga is success in (all) actions.'

That native scholars were well aware of the double meaning of Yoga, we may see from a verse in the beginning of Bhogadeva's commentary on the YogaSûtras, where he states that, with a true Yogin, Yoga, joining, means really Viyoga, separation, or Viveka, discrimination between Purusha and Prakriti, subject and object, self and nature, such as it is taught in the Sâmkhya: Pumprakrityor viyogo pi yoga ityudito yayâ, 'By which (teaching of Patangali) Yoga (union) is said to be Viyoga (separation) of Purusha and Prakriti.'

Yoga as Viveka.

We saw that this Viyoga or Viveka was indeed the highest point to which the whole of the Sâmkhyaphilosophy leads up. But granted that this discrimination, this subduing and drawing away of the Self from all that is not Self, is the highest object of philosophy, how is it to be reached, and even when reached, how is it to be maintained? By know

ledge chiefly, would be the answer of Kapila (by Gñânayoga); by ascetic exercises delivering the Self from the fetters of the body and the bodily senses, (by Karmayoga) adds Patañgali. Patañgali by no means ignores the Gñânayoga of Kapila. On the contrary, he presupposes it; he only adds, as a useful support, a number of exercises, bodily as well as mental, by which the senses should be kept in subjection so as not to interfere again with the concentration of all thoughts on the Self or the Purusha1. In that sense he tells us in the second Sutra that Yoga is the effort of restraining the activity or distractions of our thoughts. Before we begin to scoff at the Yoga and its minute treatment of postures, breathings, and other means of mental concentration, we ought first of all to try to understand their original intention. Everything can become absurd by exaggeration, and this has been, no doubt, the case with the self-imposed discipline and tortures of the Yogins. But originally their

I prefer, even in the Sâmkhya-philosophy, to render Purusha by Self rather than by man, because in English man cannot be used in the sense of simply subject or soul. Besides, Atman, Self, is often used by Patangali himself for Purusha, cf. Yoga-Sutras III, 21; II, 41.

object seems to have been no other than to counteract the distractions of the senses. We all consider the closing of the eyelids and the stopping of the ears against disturbing noises useful for serious meditation. This was the simple beginning of Yoga, and in that sense it was meant to be a useful addition to the Sâmkhya, 'because even a convinced Sâmkhya philosopher who had obtained Gñânayoga or knowledge-yoga would inevitably suffer from the disturbances caused by external circumstances and the continual inroads of the outer world upon him, i.e. upon his Manas, unless strengthened to resist by Karmayoga or work-yoga the ever present enemy of his peace of mind. More minute directions as to how this desired concentration and abstraction could be achieved and maintained, might at first have been quite harmless, but if carried too far they would inevitably produce those torturing exercises which seemed to Buddha, as they do to most people, so utterly foolish and useless. But if we ourselves must admit that our senses and all that they imply are real obstacles to quiet meditation, the attempts to reduce these sensuous affections to some kind of quietude or equability (Samatva) need not surprise us, nor need we be altogether incredulous as to the marvellous results obtained by means of ascetic exercises by Yogins in India, as little as we should treat the visions of St. Francis or St. Teresa as downright impositions. The real relation of the soul to the body and of the senses to the soul is still as great a mystery to us as it was to the ancient Yogins of India, and their experiences, if only honestly related, deserve certainly the same careful attention as the stigmata of Roman Catholic saints. They