Part 18

‘If a monk should desire to hear with clear and heavenly ear, surpassing that of men, sounds both human and celestial, whether far or near; if he should desire to comprehend by his own heart the hearts of other beings and of other men; if he should desire to call to mind his various temporary states in the past, such as one, two, three, four, five, ten, twenty, a hundred, a thousand, a hundred thousand births, or his births in many an age and æon of destruction and renovation, let him devote himself to that quietude which springs from within.’

Then, in the Mahā-parinibbāna-sutta (I. 33, Rhys Davids) occurs the following;—

‘At that time the blessed One—as instantaneously as a strong man would stretch forth his arm, or draw it back again when he had stretched it forth—vanished from this side of the river, and stood on the further bank with the company of the brethren.’

And, again, the following:—

‘I call to mind, Ānanda, how when I used to enter into an assembly of many hundred nobles, before I had seated myself there, or talked to them, or started a conversation with them, I used to become in colour like unto their colour, and in voice like unto their voice. Then, with religious discourse, I used to instruct, incite, and quicken them, and fill them with gladness. But they knew me not when I spoke, and would say, “Who may this be who thus speaks? a man or a god?” Then, having instructed, incited, quickened, and gladdened them with religious discourse, I would vanish away. But they knew me not even when I vanished away; and would say, “Who may this be who has thus vanished away? a man, or a god?”’—(Mahā-parinibbāna-sutta III. 22, Rhys Davids.)

Such passages in the early literature afford an interesting exemplification of the growth of supernatural and mystical ideas, which led to the ultimate association of the Buddhistic system with Ṡaivism, demonology, magic, and various so-called spiritual phenomena.

I now proceed to show that the development of these ideas in Buddhism resulted from its connexion with the later Yoga, which developed similar ideas.

In the aphorisms of this later Yoga, composed by Patañjali, eight chief requisites are enumerated (II. 29); namely, 1. abstaining from five evil acts (yama); 2. performing five positive duties (niyama); 3. settling the limbs in certain postures (āsana); 4. regulating and suppressing the breath (prāṇāyāma); 5. withdrawing the senses from their objects (pratyāhāra); 6. fixing the thinking faculty (dhāraṇā); 7. internal self-contemplation (dhyāna); 8. trance-like self-concentration (samādhi).

These eight are indispensable requisites for the gaining of Patañjali’s _summum bonum_—the complete abstraction or isolation (kaivalya) of the soul or spirit in its own essence—and for the acquirement of supernatural faculties.

Taking now these eight requisites of Yoga in order, we may observe, with regard to the first, that the five evil acts to be avoided correspond to the five commandments in Buddhism, viz. ‘kill not,’ ‘steal not,’ ‘commit no impurity,’ ‘lie not.’ The fifth alone—‘abstain from all worldly enjoyments’—is different, the Buddhist fifth prohibition being ‘drink no strong drink’ (p. 126).

With regard to the second requisite, the five positive duties are—self-purification, both external and internal (both called ṡauća); the practice of contentment (saṃtosha); bodily mortification (tapas); muttering of prayers, or repetition of mystical syllables (svādhyāya, or japa), and contemplation of the Supreme Being.

The various processes of bodily mortification already described (see p. 228) were repudiated by Buddhism.

As to the muttering of prayers, the repetition of mystic syllables such as Om (a symbol for the Triad of gods), or of any favourite deity’s name, is held among Hindūs to be highly efficacious[107]. In a similar manner among Tibetan Buddhists the six-syllabled sentence: ‘Om maṇi padme Hūm’—‘Om! the jewel in the lotus! Hūm!’—is used as a charm against the sixfold course of transmigration (see pp. 121, 371-373).

Mystical syllables are very common. Sir A. Cunningham gives the following as current in Ladāk:—Bhyo, Rakmo-bhyo! Rakmo-bhyo-bhyo! Ru-lu, Ru-lu, Hūm Bhyo Hūm! (Ladāk, 386.)

Other mystical syllables (such as Sam, Yam, Ram, Lam, etc.) are supposed to contain some occult virtue.

The third requisite—posture—would appear to us a somewhat trivial aid to the union of the human spirit with the divine; but with Hindūs it is an important auxiliary, fraught with great benefit to the Yogī.

The alleged reason is that certain sitting postures (āsana) and cramping of the lower limbs are peculiarly efficacious in producing bodily quietude and preventing restlessness. Some of the postures have curious names, for example:—Padmāsana, ‘the lotus posture;’ ‘vīrāsana, ‘the heroic posture;’ siṉhāsana, ‘the lion posture’ (see note, p. 336); kūrmāsana, ‘tortoise posture;’ kukku-ṭāsana, ‘cock posture;’ dhanur-āsana, ‘bow posture;’ mayūrāsana, ‘peacock posture.’ In the first the legs are folded under the body and the right foot is placed on the left thigh, and the left on the right thigh.

In short, the idea is that compression of the lower limbs, in such a way as to prevent the possibility of the slightest movement, is most important as a preparation for complete abstraction of soul.

Then, as another aid, particular mystical twistings (called mudrā) of the upper limbs—of the arms, hands, and fingers—are enjoined.

Even in Muhammadan countries certain movements of the limbs are practised by devotees with the view of uniting the human spirit with the Divine. Those who have seen the whirling and ‘howling’ dervishes at Cairo can testify that fainting fits result from their violent exertions, inspirations, expirations, and utterances of the name of God, and such fits are believed to be ecstatic states of union with the Deity.

The fourth requisite—regulation and suppression of the breath—is perhaps the one of all the eight which is most difficult for Europeans to understand or appreciate; yet with Hindūs it is all-important. It is sometimes called Haṭha-vidyā. Nor are the ideas connected with it wholly unknown in Europe.

According to Swedenborg[108], thought commences and corresponds with respiration:—

‘When a man thinks quickly his breath vibrates with rapid alternations; when the tempest of anger shakes his mind his breath is tumultuous; when his soul is deep and tranquil, so is his respiration.’ And he adds: ‘It is strange that this correspondence between the states of the brain or mind and the lungs has not been admitted in science.’

The Hindū belief certainly is that deep inspirations of breath assist in concentrating and abstracting the thoughts and preventing external impressions. But, more than this, five sorts of air are supposed to permeate the human body and play an important part in its vitality. They are called Prāṇa, Vyāna, Apāna, Samāna, Udāna. In the Ćhāndogya Upanishad (V. 19, etc.) they are described as if they were divine beings to be adored and to be honoured by offerings of food. The Haṭha-dīpikā says: ‘As long as the air remains in the body, so long life remains. Death is the exit of the breath. Hence the air should be retained in the body.’

In regulating the breath, the air must first be drawn up through one nostril (the other being closed with the finger), retained in the lungs, and then expelled through the other nostril. This exercise must be practised alternately with the right and left nostril. Next, the breath must be drawn forcibly up through both nostrils, and the air imprisoned for as long a time as possible in the lungs. Thence it must be forced by an effort of will towards the internal organs of the body, or made to mount to the centre of the brain.

The Hindūs, however, do not identify the breath with the soul. They believe that a crevice or suture called the Brahma-randhram at the top of the skull serves as an outlet for the escape of the soul at death. A Hindū Yogī’s skull is sometimes split at death by striking it with a sacred shell. The idea is to facilitate the exit of the soul. It is said that in Tibet the hair is torn out of the top of the head, with the same object.

In the case of a wicked man the soul is supposed to escape through one of the lower openings of the body.

The imprisonment of the breath in the body by taking in more air than is necessary for respiration, is the most important of the breath exercises. It is said that Hindū ascetics, by constant practice, are able by this means to sustain life under water, or to be buried alive for long periods of time. Many alleged feats of suspended animation are of course mere and sheer trickery. It seems, however, open to question, whether it may not be possible for human beings of particular constitutions to practise a kind of hibernation like that of animals, or acquire some power of suspending temporarily the organic functions. A certain Colonel Townsend is said to have succeeded in doing so.

A well-known instance of suspended animation occurred in the Panjāb in 1837. A Hindū Yogī was there, by his own request, buried alive in a vault for forty days in the presence of Runjit Singh and Sir Claude Wade; his eyes, ears, and every orifice of his body having been first stopped with plugs of wax. Dr. McGregor, the then residency surgeon, also watched the case. Every precaution was taken to prevent deception. English officials saw the man buried, as well as exhumed, and a perpetual guard over the vault was kept night and day by order of Runjit Singh himself. At the end of forty days the disinterment took place. The body was dried up like a stick, and the tongue, which had been turned back into the throat, had become like a piece of horn. Those who exhumed him followed his previously-given directions for the restoration of animation, and the Yogī told them he had only been conscious of a kind of ecstatic bliss in the society of other Yogīs and saints, and was quite ready to be buried over again.

What amount of fraud there may be in these feats it is difficult to say. They may possibly be accounted for by the fact that Indian Yogīs have studied the habits of hibernating animals; but in some cases the secret introduction of food has been detected.

I may add that it is commonly believed throughout India that a man whose body is sublimated by intense abstract meditation never dies, in the sense of undergoing corruption and dissolution. When his supposed death occurs he is held to be in a state of trance, which may last for centuries, and his body is, therefore, not burnt, but buried—generally in a sitting posture—and his tomb is called a Samādh.

With regard to the fifth requisite—the act of withdrawing the senses from their object, as, for example, the eye from visible forms—this is well compared to the act of a tortoise withdrawing its limbs under its shell.

The sixth requisite—fixing the principle of thought—comprises the act of directing the thinking faculty (ćitta) towards various parts of the body, for example, towards the heart, or towards the crown of the head, or concentrating the will-force on the region between the two eyebrows, or even fixing the eyes intently on the tip of the nose. (Compare Bhagavad-gītā VI. 13.)

The seventh and eighth requisites—viz. internal self-contemplation and intense self-concentration—are held (when conjoined with the sixth) to be most important as leading to the acquisition of certain supernatural powers, of which the following are most commonly enumerated:—(1) Animan, ‘the faculty of reducing the body to the size of an atom;’ (2) Mahiman, or Gariman, ‘increasing the size or weight at will;’ (3) Laghiman, ‘making the body light at will;’ (4)Prāpti, ‘reaching or touching any object or spot, however apparently distant;’ (5) Prākāmya, ‘unlimited exercise of will;’ (6) Īṡitva, ‘gaining absolute power over one’s self and others;’ (7) Vaṡitā, ‘bringing the elements into subjection;’ (8) Kāmāvasāyitā, ‘the power of suppressing all desires.’

A Yogī who has acquired these powers can rise aloft to the skies, fly through space, pass through the key-hole of a door, pierce the mysteries of planets and stars, cause storms and earthquakes, understand the language of animals, ascertain what occurs in any part of the world, or of the universe, recollect the events of his own previous lives, prolong his present life, see into the past and future, discern the thoughts of others, assume any form he likes, disappear, reappear, and even enter into another man’s body and make it his own.

Such were some of the extravagant ideas which grew with the growth of the Yoga system, and were incorporated into the later developments of Buddhism.

We learn from Mr. Sarat Chandra Dās that in the monastery of Galdan in Tibet there is at this moment a college specially devoted to the teaching of Esoteric and Mystical Buddhism; while magic and sorcery are taught in the monasteries founded by Padma-sambhava (see pp. 272, 274, 441).

Of course it was only natural that, with the association of Buddhism with the later Yoga and Ṡaivism, the Buddha himself should have become a centre for the growth of supernatural and mystical ideas.

Hence the Buddha is fabled by his followers to have ascended to the Trayastriṉṡa heaven of Indra, walked on water, stepped from one mountain to another, and left impressions of his feet on the solid rock. Although in the Dhamma-pada it is twice declared (254, 255), ‘There is no path through the air.’

Perhaps the climax was reached when the later doctrine made every Buddha possess a threefold existence or three bodies, much in the same way as in Hindūism three bodies are assigned to every being.

The first of the Buddha’s bodies is the Dharma-kāya, ‘body of the Law,’ supposed to be a kind of ethereal essence of a highly sublimated nature and co-extensive with space. This essence was believed to be eternal, and after the Buddha’s death, was represented by the Law or Doctrine (Dharma) he taught. The idea seems to have been invented as an analogue to Brahman, or the Universal spiritual Essence of Brāhmanism[109].

The second body is the Sambhoga-kāya, ‘body of conscious bliss,’ which is of a less ethereal and more material nature than the last. Its Brāhmanical analogue appears to be the intermediate body (belonging to departed spirits) called Bhoga-deha, which is of an ethereal character, though composed of sufficiently gross (sthūla) material particles to be capable of experiencing happiness or misery.

For observe that it is an essential part of the Hindū doctrine of transmigration or metempsychosis, that a soul _without a body_ is incapable of feeling either happiness in heaven or pain in hell.

The third body is the Nirmāṇa-kāya, ‘body of visible shapes and transformations,’ that is to say, those various concrete material forms in which every Buddha who exists as an invisible and eternal essence, is manifested on the earth or elsewhere for the propagation of the true doctrine.

The Brāhmanical analogue of this third body appears to be the earthly gross body, called Sthūla-ṡarīra.

It is evident that the extravagances of mystical Buddhism have their counterparts in Brāhmanism.

There is a Brāhmanical legend which relates how the great Brāhman sage Ṡaṅkarāćārya entranced his gross body, and then, having forced out his soul along with his subtle body, entered the dead body of a recently deceased king, which he occupied for several weeks.

The Yoga of the Brāhmans, in fact, held that adepts, skilled in occult science, might throw their gross bodies into a state of unconsciousness, and by a determined effort of will project or force out the ethereal body through the pores of the skin, and make this phantasmal form visible in distant places[110].

And now it is declared to be a fact that a community of Buddhist ‘Brothers’ called Mahātmas, are living at this moment in the deserts of Tibet, who, having emancipated their interior selves from physical bondage by profound abstract meditation, have acquired ‘astral’ bodies (distinct from their gross bodies), with which they are able to rise in the air, or move through space, by the mere exercise of will.

Sir Edwin Arnold on the other hand, in his ‘India Revisited’ (p. 273), states that he asked Ṡrī Weligama of Ceylon whether there existed anywhere Mahātmas, who elevated in this way above humanity, possessed larger powers and more profound insight than any other living philosophers? Weligama answered, ‘No! such do not exist; you would seek them vainly in this island, or in Tibet, or in Siam, or in China. It is true, O my friend, that if we had better interpretations of the Lord Buddha’s teaching, we might reach to heights and depths of power and goodness now quite impossible, but we have fallen from the old wisdom, and none of us to-day are so advanced.’

I believe that the Psychical Research Society once sent delegates to India who inquired into this subject, and exposed the absurdity of some of the alleged phenomena.

Curiously in agreement with these extravagant notions are the beliefs of various uncivilized races. Dr. Tylor, in his ‘Primitive Culture’ (i. 440), relates how the North American Indians and others believe that their souls quit their bodies during sleep, and go about hunting, dancing, visiting, etc. It is stated by Mr. Finn, late H. M. Consul for North Persia, that he never could induce his Persian servants to awaken him in the morning. They gave as their reason that the soul during sleep wanders away from the body, and that a sleeper will die if awakened before the soul has time to rejoin the body. The Indian tribes in Central Brazil have the same belief, so says Dr. Karl von den Steinen (recently quoted in the _Times_ newspaper).

Furthermore it is clear that the possibility of acquiring supernatural faculties is not an idea confined to one country.

Old legends relate how Simon Magus made statues walk; how he flew in the air; how he lept into the fire, made bread of stones, changed his shape, assumed two faces, made the vessels in a house move of themselves (Colonel Yule’s Marco Polo, i. 306).

We are told that the phenomena of European spiritualism are to be kept distinct from those of Asiatic occultism. Modern spiritualism, it is said, requires the intervention of ‘mediums,’ who neither control nor understand the manifestations of which they are the passive instruments; whereas the phenomena of occultism are the ‘achievements of a conscious living operator,’ produced on himself by an effort of his own will. According to Mr. Sinnett, the important point ‘which occultism brings out is, that the soul of man, while something enormously subtler and more ethereal and more lasting than the body, is itself a material body. The ether that transmits light is held to be material by any one who holds it to exist at all; but there is a gulf of difference between it and the thinnest of gases.’ In another place he advances an opinion that the spirit is distinct from the soul. It is the soul of the soul.

And again: ‘The body is the prison of the soul for ordinary mortals. We can see merely what comes before its windows; we can take cognisance only of what is brought within its bars. But the adept has found the key of his prison, and can emerge from it at pleasure. It is no longer a prison for him—merely a dwelling. He can project his soul out of his body to any place he pleases with the rapidity of thought[111].’

It is perhaps worth noting that many believers in Asiatic occultism hold that a hitherto unsuspected force exists in nature called Odic force (is this to be connected with Psychic force?), and that it is by this that the levitation of entranced persons is effected.

Others, like the Yogīs, maintain that any one may lighten his body by swallowing large draughts of air, and by an effort of will forcing this air to diffuse itself through every part of the frame. It is alleged that this phenomenon has been actually witnessed.

The connexion, however, of similar phenomena with feats of conjuring is undeniable. In the Asiatic Monthly Journal (March, 1829), an account is given of a Brāhman who poised himself _apparently_ in the air, about four feet from the ground, for forty minutes, in the presence of the Governor of Madras. Another juggler sat on three sticks put together to form a tripod. These were removed, one by one, and the man remained sitting in the air[112].

Long ago Friar Ricold related that ‘a man from India was said to fly. The truth was that he did walk close to the surface of the ground without touching it, and would seem to sit down without any substance to support him’ (Colonel Yule’s Marco Polo, i. 307).

On the other hand, it is contended, that ‘since we have attained, in the last half-century, the theory of evolution, the antiquity of man, the far greater antiquity of the world itself, the correlation of physical forces, the conservation of energy, spectrum analysis, photography, the locomotive engine, electric telegraph, spectroscope, electric light, and the telephone (to which we may now add the phonograph), who shall dare to fix a limit to the capacity of man[113]?’ Few will deny altogether the truth of such a contention, however much they may dissent from Colonel Olcott’s theosophical views.

There may be, of course, latent faculties in humanity which are at present quite unsuspected, and yet are capable of development in the future.

According to Sir James Paget, in his recent address on ‘Scientific Study,’ many things, now held to be inconceivable and past man’s imagination, are profoundly and assuredly true, and it will be in the power of Science to prove them to be so[114].

Most persons will assent to these propositions, and at the same time agree with me when I express my conviction that mystical Buddhism and Asiatic occultism are no more likely than modern European spiritualism, to bear the searching light of true scientific investigation.

Nevertheless the subject of mystical Buddhism ought not to be brushed aside as unworthy of consideration. It furnishes, in my opinion, a highly interesting topic of inquiry, especially in its bearing on the ‘neo-Buddhism,’ and ‘Theosophy’ of the present day. At all events it is clear from what we have advanced in the present Lecture, that the practices connected with spiritualism, mesmerism, animal magnetism, telepathy, clairvoyance, thought-reading[115], etc., have their counterparts in the Yoga system prevalent in India more than 2,000 years ago, and in the practices of mystical Buddhism prevalent in Tibet and the adjacent countries for many centuries.

‘The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that which is done is that which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun.’

LECTURE XI. _Hierarchical Buddhism, especially as developed in Tibet and Mongolia._

Early Buddhism was, as we have seen, opposed to all ecclesiastical organization. It had no hierarchy in the proper sense of that term—no church, no priests, no true form of prayer, no religious rites, no ceremonial observances. It was simply a Brotherhood consisting of men who had renounced all family ties, all worldly desires—even all desire for life—and were pledged to devote themselves to meditation, recitation of the Law, self-restraint, and the accumulation of merit, not for the sake of saving others, but for their own deliverance.