paramhansa yogananda - the-science-of-religion (126) ocr

THE

SCIENCE OF RELIGION

BY S\VAIVII YOGANANDA, A.B.

Founder of Bit H'ashmgton Educafwnal Center~ Los Angdes

Ranclll and Purz Brahmacharya Reszdentwl Schools Ln lndza Sal-Sanga (Fellowshzp wzlh Truth)

Boston, Clneland, Prttsburgh, New Yorl. Sat-Sanua Summer School, \Valtham Vzce-Pre~zdent Sadhu Sabha~ Indw

Delegate from Indza to Internatwnal Congress of Reltgwns,Boston, 1920

S"\VAMI DHIRANANDA, 1\li.A., Assocu.lte

FIFTII EDITION

PUBLISHED BY

YOGODA AND SAT SANGA liEA.DQUARTERS lV1:T. 'VASHINGTON, SAN RAFAEL AND ELYRIA STS.

LOS ANGELES, CALIF.

1926

Copyright, 1924, by SwAMI Y OGANANDA

MT. WASHINGTON, Los ANGELES U. S. A.

PUBLISHED IN U. S. A.

FOR

fl1s piety, open-handed generoszly towards every worih-whzle move-ment, unbounded devotwn to the cause of general educaiwn,

and excluswe and pioneer patronage in the eslabltshnwnt of a unique residenlzal Brahrnacharya School zn India

TillS BOOK IS INSCRIBED 1 0

THE HON'BLE MAHARAJA SIR MANINDRA CHANDRA NUNDY, K.C.I E, OF KASilVIBA.ZAR (BENGAL), INDIA

MEMBER, CouNCIL OF STATE, INDIA GovERNMENT

NOTE 1,he first edition of this book was published in India. The

second and suLscquent editions, revised and enlarged, have been published 1n the U S A.

lVIy thanks are due to Swanu Dlurananda, M.A., Swami Satyananda, B A , and SJ. Tulsinarayan Bose, for various forms of help I have received fro1n then1.

SwAMI YoGANANDA.

CONTENTS

PREFACE. . vii-xv

CHAPTER I . ~ The Universality, Necessity and Oneness of

Religion: Distinction bet,veen Pain, Pleasure, and Bliss: God.

CHAPTER II The Four Fundamental Religious lVlethods.

1-58

59-89

CHAPTER III . 90-107 The Instrun1ents of l{nowledge: The lle-

ligious Point of View.

PREFACE Tl1is book is intended to give, in bare

outline, what we should understand by relig-ion, in order to make it universally and prag-matically necessary. It also seeks to present that aspect of the idea of the God-head wl1ich has a direct bearing on the motives and actions of every minute of our lives. It is true that God is Infinite in His nature and aspect, and it is also true that to prepare a chart detailing, so far as is consistent with reason, what God is like is only an evidence of the limitations of the human mind in its attempt to fathom God. Still it is equally true that the human mind, in spite of all its drawbacks, can not rest perfectly satisfied with what is finite. It has a natural urge to interpret what is human and fmite in the light of wl1at is super-human and infinite,-what it feels but can not express.. 'Yhat

V1l

VIII PREFACE

within it lies implicit but under circumstances reft1ses to be explicit.

Our ordinary conception of God is that He is Stlper-human, Infinite, Omnipresent, Omnis-cient, and the like. In this general concep-tion there are many variations. Some call God Personal, some Impersonal, and so forth. The point emphasized in this book is that wl1atever conception 've have of God, if it does not influence our daily conduct, if every-day life does not find an inspiration from it, and if it is not found universally necessary, then that conception is worse than useless. If God is not conceived in such a way that we can not do without Him in tl1e satisfaction of a want, in our dealings with people, in earning money, in reading a book, in passing an examination, in the doing of the' most trifling or the highest duties, then it is better we should act discreetly, taking His useless name less into churches and temples. God may be Infinite, Omnipresent, Omniscient,

PREFACE IX

Personal, Merciful, or anything, bttt these conceptions are not sufficiently compelling to make us try to know God. We may as well do without Him. He may be Infinite, Omnipresent, and so forth, but "\Ve h!ive no immediate and practical use for those concep-tions in our busy, rusl1ing lives. w-e fall back on those conceptions only whe11 we seek to justify, i11 philosopl1ical and poetical writ-ings, in art or in warmed-up, idealistic talks, the finite craving for son1ething beyond; when we, with all our vaunted knowledge, are at a loss to explain some of the most common phenomena of tl1e universe; or when "'"e get stranded in the vicissitudes of the world. "We pray to the Ever-Merciful when we get stuck,'' as the Eastern maxim has it. Except for all tl1is, we seem to get along all right in our work-a-day world "\vithotit Him. These conceptions appear to be the safety-valves of our pent-up l1uman thought. Tl1ey explain Him, but do not make us seek Him. They

X PREFACE

lack motive power. We are not necessarily seeking God when we call Him Infinite, Omnipresent, All-Merciful, and so forth. These coilceptions satisfy our intellect, but do not soothe our soul. If respected and cherished at heart, they may broaden us to a certain extent-may make us moral and resigned towards Him. But they do not make God our own-they are not intimate enough. They place Him aloof from everyday concern of the world. These conceptions savor of outlandishness when we are on the street, in a factory, behind a counter, or in an office. Not because we are really dead to God and religion, but because we lack a proper concep-tion of them-a conception that can be inter-woven wit4 the fabric of daily life. What we conceive of God should be of daily, nay hourly, guidance to us. The very conception of God should stir us to seek Him in the midst of our daily lives. This is what we mean by a pragmatic and compelling conception of

PREFACE XI

God. We should take religion and God out of the sphere of belief into that of daily life. If we do not emphasize the necessity of God in every aspect of our lives and the need of religion in every minute of our existence, then God and religion drop out of our intimate daily consideration and become only a one-day-in-a-week affair. In the first chapter of this work the attempt has been made to show that in order to understand the real necessity of

God and religion we must throw emphasis on that conception of both which is most relevant to the chief aim of our daily and hourly actions.

This book has also attempted to show the universality and unity of Religion. There have been different religions at different ages. There have been heated controversy, long ''ar-fare, and much bloodshed over them. Onere-ligion stood against another, one sect fought with another. Not only is there a variety in religions, but there is also a 'vide diversity of sects and opinions \vithin tl1e same religion.

XII PREFACE

But tl1e qtiestion arises, when there is one God, \vhy there sl1ould be so many religions~ It may be argued that particular stages of iiltellectual gro\vtl1 and special types of men-tality belonging to certain nations, due to different geographical locatio11s and other extra11eous circumstances, determine the or-igin of different religions, such as Hinduism and Buddhism for the Indians and tl1e Asiatics, Mohammedanism for the Arabs (at

.,

least at its beginning), Cl1ristianity for the Westerners, and so forth. If by Religion we understand only practices, particular tenets, dog1nas, customs and conventions, tl1en there may be ground for the existence of so many religions; but if Religion means, primarily, God-consciousness, or the realization of God both within and without, which it really does; secondarily, a body of beliefs, tenets, and dogmas, then, strictly speaking, there is but one Religion in tl1e world, for there is but one God; and different customs, forms of worship,

PREFACE XIII

tenets, and conventions may be held to form the grounds for the origin of different denom-inations and sects included under that one Religion. If Religion is understood in this way, then and then 011ly can its uni,~ersality be maintained, for 've can not possibly universalize particular customs or conven-tions. Only tl1e element common to all the so-called religions can be universalized. We can ask every one to follow that. Tl1en can it b~ truly said that Religion is 110t only 11ecessary but it is universal, as well. Everyone must follow the same religio11, for there is but one, its universal eleme11t being one and tl1e same. Only its customs and conventions differ.

I have tried to show in this book that as God is one, necessary for all of us, so Religion is one, necessary and universal. 011ly the roads to it may differ in some respects at tl1e begin-ning. As a matter of fact, it is ludicrous to say that there are t\vo religions, when there is but one God. Tl1ere may be t\vo denominations

XIV PREFACE

or sects, but there is only one Religion. What we 11ow call different religions should be known as different denominations or sects under that one universal Religion. And what we now know as different denominations or sects should be specified as different branch cults or creeds. If we once know the meaning of the word ''Religion,'' which we are going to discuss by and by, we shall naturally be very circumspect in the use of it. It is only the limited human point of view thttt overlooks the underlying universal element in the so-called different religions of the world, and this overlooking has been the cause of many evils.

This book gives a psychological definition of Religion, not an objective definition based on dogmas or tenets. In other words, it seeks to make Religion a question of our whole in,vard being and attitude, and not a mere observance of certains rules and pre-cepts, nor an intellectual acquiescence, either, in

PREFACE XV

certain beliefs about God, the 11niverse, and so forth. On this psychological ground its universality has been established. I have also discussed the merits and demerits of the different methods required to be followed for the attainment of that religious consciousness which is here set forth.

In conclusion it should be remembered that when tl1e theory and practice of Religion are poles apart, "\Ve must not stop at the theory and lose energy over comment or criticism thereon, leaving out of sight the practical aspect of it that alone can lead to its true understanding. The verification of a theory lies in practice. If a practice truly followed is found at last to militate against the theory, then, and not till then, may the theory be safely rejected.

THE SCIENCE OF RELIGION

CHAPTER I

'"fHE UNIVERSALITY, NECESSITY, AND ONENESS

OF RELIGION: THE DISTINCTION BETWEEN

PLEASURE, PAIN, AND BLiss: Gon

First we must know what Religion is, then only can we jt1dge whether it is necessary for all of us to be religious.

Without necessity there is no action. Every action of ours has an end of its own for which we perform it. People of the world act va-riously to accomplish various ends. There is a multiplicity of ends determining the actions of men in the world.

But is tl1ere any con1mon a11d universal e11d of all tl1e actions of all the people of tl1e worldP Is there any common, highest 1tecessity for all of us 'vhicl1 prompts us to all actio11S~ A little analysis of the n1otives and ends of men's actions in the world sho"\vs that, though

2 THE SCIENCE OF RELIGION

there are a thousand and one proximate or immediate ends of men in regard to the par-ticular calling or profession wl1ich tl1ey take up, the ultimate e11d 'vhicl1 all other e11ds merely subserve co1nes to be tl1e avoidance of pain and wa11t and the attai11ll1e11t of per-manent Bliss. Wl1ether we can at all per-manently avoid pain and \vant and get Bliss is a separate question, but as a matter of fact, in all our actio11s, we obviously try to avoid the former and get the latter. Why does a man act as a probationer~ Because he wishes to become an expert in a certain business. Why does he engage in that particular busi-nessil Because money can be earned therein. Why should money be earned at all~ Because it will put an end to personal and family wants. ;Why must wants be fulfilled~ Because pain , will thereby be removed and Bliss or l1appiness be gained. As a matter of fact, happiness and Bliss are not the same thing. We all aim at Bliss, but through a great blunder we imagine

THE SCIENCE OF RELIGION 3

pleasure and happiness to be Bliss. Ho\v that has come to be so vvill be sho,vn presently. The ultimate motive is really Bliss, wl1ich we feel in\vardly; but happiness-or pleasure-l1as taken its place, througl1 our great bluncler, and the latter has co1ne to be regarded as the ultimate motive. 1,l1at tl1is is a P9J'V~r~ion vvill later be obvious, tl1ougl1 for convcnie11ce these terms may sometimes be l1ere used irlter-changeably.

Thus we see that tl1e fulfillment of some vvant, removal of some pai11, physical or mental, from the sligl1test to the acutest, and the attainment of Bliss, form our ultimate end. We can not question furtl1er why Bliss is to be gained, for no ans\'Jier ca11 be given. Tl1at is our ultimate end, no matter \Vhat we do-enter a business, earn money, seek friends, write books, acqtiire kno,vledge, rtile king-doms, donate millio11s, explore countries, look for fame, help the needy, become pllilan-thropists, or embrace martyrdom. A11d it

4 'filE SCIENCE OF RELIGlON

\vill be sl1o\vn tl1at tl1e seeking of God becomes a real fact to us wl1en that e11d is kept rig-orously in vie\v. lVlillions 1nay be tl1e steps, myriads may be the intermediate acts and motives; btlt tl1e ultimate motive is always the same-to attain permanent Bliss, eve11 though it be tl1rougl1 a lo11g cl1ain of actions. Ma11 likes to and has to go along t~e chain to get to tl1e final end. He commits suicide to end some pain, perpetrates murder to get rid of some form of want or pain or some cruel l1eart-thrust. He thinks he will thereby attain a real satisfaction or relief, which he mistakes for Bliss. But the point to notice is tl1at here, too, is the same working (thougl1 wrongly) towards the ultimate end.

Some one may say, ''I do not care anything about pleasure or happiness; I live life to accomplish so1nething, to achieve success.'' Another says: ''I wa11t to do good in tl1e world. I do not care whether I am in pai11 or not.'' But if you look into the n1i11ds of these


people also, you 'vill find that tl1ere is the same \vorking to,varcls the goal of happiness. Does tl1e first 'va11t a success that has in its achievement no pleasure or happinessP Does the second 'vant to do good to otl1ers, yet himself get no happiness in doing it~ Obvi-ously not. They may not mind a tl1ousa11d and one pl1ysical pains or 1nental sufferings inflicted by otl1ers or arisi11g out of situations i11cidental to tl1e pursuit of success or tl1e do-ing of good to otl1ers; but because tl1e one finds great satisfaction in success, and tl1e otl1er in-tensely enjoys the l1appiness of doing good to others tl1e former seeks sticcess, and tl1e latter others' good, in spite of mi11or troubles.

Even the most altruistic motive, tl1e sincer- est intention of advancing the good of human-ity for its O\vn sake, l1ave spru11g from the basic urge for a chaste11ed perso11all1appi11ess, approaching Bliss. But it is not tl1e happiness of a narro\v self-seeker. It is tl1e l1appiness of a broad seeker of that ''pure self'' tl1at is in you


a11d me and all. Tl1is l1appiness is Bliss, a little alloyed. So with Pure Bliss as a per-sonal motive for altruistic actio11, the altruist is not laying himself open to tl1e cl1arge of nar-row selfisl1ness, for one can not himself have Pure Bliss unless he is broad enough to \visl1 and seek it for others, too. Tl1at is the \Vorld law.

So if the n1otives for tl1e actions of all men are traced ft1rther and further back, the ultimate motive \vill be fotind to be the same with all-the removal of pain and the attain-ment of Bliss. This end being universal, it must be looked upon as the most necessary one. And what is universal and most necessary for man is, of course, religion to him. Hence religion necessarily consists in the permanent removal of pain and the realization of Bliss or God. And the actions which we must adopt for the permanent avoidance of pain and the realization of Bliss or God are called religious. If we understand religion in this way, then its universality becomes obvious. For no one


can deny tl1at he "\Vants to avoid pain permanently and attain permanent Bliss. This must be universally admitted, since none can gainsay its truth. Man's very existence is bound up with it. If he says he does not want Religion, he must needs say he does not like existence, which he can not possibly do. For existence means struggle, which in ultimate analysis means satisfying of 'vants, that one may attain Bliss. And this is what we understand by Religion.

You wa11t to live because you love Religion. Even if you committed suicide it would he be-cause you love Religion, too; for by doing that you think you will attain a happier state than you fi11d while living. At any rate, you think you will be rid of some pain that is bothering you. In this case your religion is crude-too crude to bear the name of religion. But it is Religion, just the same. Your goal is perfectly right, the same that all persons have. For both you and they want


to get l1appiness, or Bliss. But your means are ridiculous. Becat1se of yotlr ignorance you do not kno'v 'vhat 1vill bring you to Bliss, the goal of happi11ess; so you tl1ink of killing yourself to get it.

So i11 one sense every one in tl1e "\Vorld is religious, inas1nucl1 as every one is trying to get rid of want and pain, and gai11 Bliss. Every one is 'vorki11g for the same goal. But in a strict sense only a few in the V{Orld are religious, for only a fe\v in the world, though they l1ave the san1e goal as all others, k11ow tl1e most effective means for removing, for good, all pain or wa11t-physical, mental, or spiritual- and gaining permanent Bliss.

You have to bid good-bye for a while to tl1e rigidly narrow orthodox conception of Religion, though that conception is in a remote way connected with the conception I am bringing out. If for some time you do not go to church or temple, or attend some of its ceremonies or forms, meantime \vorking toward religion in


your daily life by being calm, poised, concen-trated, cl1aritable, sqtleezing happiness from tl1e most tryi11g situations, tl1en ordinary people of a prOl10tll1ced ortl1odox or 11arro'v bent 'vill nod tl1eir heads and declare that, though you are tryi11g to be good, still, fron1 the point of vie'v of real religion, or i11 the eyes of God, you are "falli11g off," as you clid not of late enter tl1e precinct of the holy places. While of colirse tl1ere can not be any valid excuse for permanently keeping a\vay from the l1oly places, there can 11ot, on tl1e otl1er hand, be any legitin1ate reason for one's being considered more religious for atte11cli11g cl1urcl1, while at tl1e same ti1ne neglecting to apply in daily life the principles 'vl1ich the church upholds, viz., those that make ultimately for the attainme11t of permanent Bliss. Religion is not dove-tailed 'vith tl1e pews of tl1e church, nor is it bound up with the ceremo11ies performed therein. If yotl have ar1 attitude of reverence, if you live your daily life always

10 TI-IE SCIENCE OF RELIGION

witl1 a vie'v to how you may bring undistt1rbed Bliss-co11sciousness into it, you will be just as religious out of the church as in it. Of course tl1is should not be understood as an argument for forsaki11g the churcl1, for the cl1urch is usually a real help in many ways. The point is that you should put forth just as much effort outside of tl1e church l1ours to gain eternal happiness as you forego while from tl1e pe,vs you are passively enjoying a good sermon. Not that listening is not a good thing, in its way, for it certainly is.

The word religion is derived from the Latin religare, to bind (see p. 58). vVhat binds, whom does it bind, and why~ Leaving aside any orthodox explanation, it stands to reason that it is "we" who are bot1nd. What binds

us~ Not chains or shackles, of course. We are talking of Religion, not of a slave dealer, so can not be bound that way. Religion may be said to bind us by rules, laws, or injunctions only. And why~ To make us slaves~ To disallow


us the birtl1right of free tl1inking or free action~ That is unreasonable. Religion must have a sufficient motive, its motive in ''binding'' us must also be good. The very fact of binding, then, is not enotigh; tl1ere must be a purpose or motive for binding us, 'vhich is the chief thing. What is that motive~ The only rational answer we can give is tl1at Religion binds us by rules, laws, injllllctions, in order that we may not degenerate, that we may not l1ave pain, misery, suffering-bodily, mentally, or Spiritually. (Bodily and n1ental suffering we kno,v. But what is Spiritual suffering~ To be in ignorance of the Spirit is Spiritual suffering. The latter is present, always, tl1ough often unnoticed, in every limited creature, while bodily and mental suffering come and go.) What other motive of the word ''binding'' than the above can we ascribe to religion tl1at is not either nonsensi-cal or repellingP Obviously other motives, if any, must be subservient to tl1e one given.


Is not tl1e definition already g'ive11 of Religion C011sistent 'vitl1 tl1e above-1ne11tioned motive of the word "bindi11g," tl1e root n1ea11ing of

Religion~ \\r e said tl1at Religion, i11 part, co11Sists in tl1e permane11t avoida11ce of pai11, misery, suffering. Now Religion ca11 11ot lie merely in getti11g rid of sometl1ing, such as pai11, but it Inust also lie i11 getting l1old of so1nethi11g else. It can 11ot be purely nega-tive, but n1ust be positive, too. How can we permanently get away from pain 'vitl1out holcling to its opposite - BlissP Thougl1 Bliss is not exactly opposite to pain, it is, at any rate, a positive consciousness to wl1icl1 \Ve can cling in order to get a'vay from pain. 'V e can not, of course, forever l1ang in the air of a neutral feeling-that is neitl1er pain nor the reverse. I repeat tl1at Religion consists not only in the avoidance of pain, suffering, etc., but also in the attainment of Bliss, or God (that Bliss and God in one sense mean the same tl1ing will be discussed later).


By looking, then, into the motive of the root meaning of Religion ("binding") -vve arrive at the same definition of Religion as we reached by the analysis of man's motive for action.

Religion is a questio11 of fundan1entals. If our fundame11tal 1notive is tl1e seeking of Bliss, or happiness, if tl1ere is not a si11gle act 've do, not a single moment 've live, tl1at is not deterini11ecl ultimately lJy tl1at fi11al n1otive, sl1ould vve not call this craving a deep-seated one in l1uman natureP And 'vl1at can Relig-ion be if it is not somel1o,,r intert\vi11ed \vitl1 the deep-rooted craving of l1uma11 naturer Religio11, if it is to })e a11ytl1ing tl1at has life value, must base itself on a life insti11ct or craving. Tl1is is an a priori plea for the conceptio11 of Religion set fortl1 in this book.

If you say tl1ere are many other human instincts (social, self-preserving, etc.) besicles a craving for l1appiness, ancl ask why 've should not i11terpret Religion in tl1e ligl1t of those instincts, too, the ans,ver is tl1at tl1ose

14 TilE SCIENCE OF RELIGION

instincts are either subservient to the instinct of seeki11g l1appiness or are too indissolubly connected with the latter to affect substan-tially our interpretatio11 of Religion.

To revert 011ce more to tl1e former argument (page 6), that 'vl1ich is universal and most necessary to man is Religion Lo l1im. If what is most 11ecessary and u11iversal is not Religion to hi1n, what tl1e11 can it beP That which is 1nost accidental and variable can not be it, of course. If 've try to make mo11ey the one and only thi11g requiri11g attention i11 Otlr life, then money becomes li.eligion to us-''the Dollar is our God.'' The predominant life motive, \vhatever it may be, is Religion to us. Leave aside here tl1e ortl1odox interpretatio11, for principles of action, and not intellectual profession of dogmas, or observance of cere-monies, determine, without the need of our personal advertisement, \Vl1at religion we have. We need not \Vait for either the theologian or the n1inis ter to name our sect or

TilE SCIENCE OF RELIGION 15

Religion for us- our principles and actio11S have a million to11gues to tell it to us and others. But tl1e amusing part of it all is that back of whatsoever thing 've worship with blind exclusiveness is always 011e fundamental motive. Tl1at is, if we make money, business, or obtaini11g tl1e 11ecessities or luxuries of life the he-all and end-all of our existence, still back of our actio11 lies a deeper motive: \Ve seek these things because they banish pain and bring happi11ess. Tl1is fundame11tal motive is humanity's real Religion; other seco11dary motives for111 pseudo-religions. Because Relig-ion is not conceived in a universal ,-vay it is relegated to the region of clouds, or tl1ought to be a fashio11able diversion for "\\romen, tl1e aged, or the feeble.

Thus we see that the Universal Religion (or Religion conceived in this universal 'vay) is practically or pragn1atically necessary. Its necessity is not artificial or forced. Though in the heart its necessity is perceived, yet un-


fortunately \Ve are not al,vays fully alive to it. flacl "\Ve bee11 so, pain \VOtild long si11ce have disappearecl fro1n tl1e world. For ordinarily what a ma11 tl1i11ks to be really 11ecessary he will seek at all l1azards. If tl1e earning of money is tl1ougl1t ]Jy a 1nan to be really nec-essary for tl1e support of his family, he will not shrink fro111 runni11g into dangers to secure it. It is a pity 've clo 11ot consider Religio11 to be necessary in tl1e same way. Instead, we regard it as an ornament, a d~coration, a11d 110t a component part of man's life.

It is also a great pity tl1at tl1ough the aim of every ma11 in this world is necessarily re-ligious, inasn1uch as l1e is working always to remo,re \Yant a11d attain Eternal Bliss, yet dtle to certain grave errors he has been misdirected and led to consider the true Religion, the definition of which we have just given, as a thing of minor importance. What is the cause of this~ Why do we not perceive its


real 11ecessity in place of its apparent neces-sity~ The ailS"\ver is-society, and our in-herent tende11cies in an indirect way. It is the compa11y we keep that determines for us the necessity \Ve feel for different things. To do good to people is \Vhat has been tat1ght from our cl1ildhood as necessary and edifyi11g, a11d so we now believe it. Consider the in-fluence of perso11s and circu1nstances. If yo11 \Visl1 to orientalize an occide11tal, place him in tile midst of tl1e Asiatics; or if you want to occidentalize an oriental, plant him amo11g Europeans-and n1ark tl1e results. It is obvious-inevital)le. ,.fl1e ma11 of the West learns to love the customs, habits, dress, modes of livi11g and tl1ought and manner of viewing things of the East, and the man of the East comes to like tl1ose of the West. The very standard of truth seen1s to then1 to vary. However, most people 'vill agree tl1at tl1e worldly life, with its cares and pleasures, w~eal and "\Voe, is 'vorth living.


But of the necessity of the Universal Religion few or none will ever remind us, and so we are not quite alive to it. It is a truism that man can not look beyond the circle in which he is placed. Whatever falls within his own circle he justifies, follows, imitates, emulates, and feels to be the standard of thought and conduct. What is beyond l1is o'vn sphere he overlooks or lessens the importance of. A lawyer will praise and be most attentive to what concerns law. Otl1er things will, as a rule, have less importance for him.

Tl1e pragmatical or practical necessity of the Universal Religion is often understood as merely a tl1eoretical necessity, Religion being considered an object of intellectual concern. If we know the religious ideal merely through our intellect, we think ,~ve have reached this ideal and that it is not required to live it or realize it. It is a great mistake on our part to confuse pragmatical necessity with theo-retical necessity. Many would perhaps admit,


on a little reflection, that Universal Religion is surely the permanent avoidance of pain and the conscious realization of Bliss, but jew, due to their inerin~ess, understand the impor-tance and practical necessity that this religion carries with it.

* * * * *

N O"\V it is necessary for tls to investigate tl1e ultimate cause of pain a11d suffering, mental and pl1ysical, in tl1e avoidance of \vhich the Universal Religion partly C011sists.

First of all we should assert, from our conl-mon universal experience, tl1at \Ve are always conscious of ourselves as the active po"rer performing all of our mental and bodily acts. Many different functions are "~e performing, indeed-perceiving, apperceiving, th.inking, remembering, feeling, acting, etc. Yet tinder-lying these functions \Ve can percei,re that there is an "Ego," or ''Self," \Vl1ich governs them and thinks of itself as substantially the


same tl1rougl1 all its past and present existe11ce. The Bible says, "Know ye not that ye are Gods and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in thee~" All of us as individt1als are so many reflected spiritual selves of tl1e universal Blissful Spirit-God. Just as there appear many images of the one sun, wl1en reflected in a number of vessels full of 'vater, so are we apparently divided into many souls, occupy-ing tl1is bodily and mental vel1icle, and thus outwardly separated from the One Universal Spirit. In reality, God a11d man are one, and this separation is only apparent.

Now, bei11g blessed and reflected Spiritual selves, why is it that we are utterly unmindful of our Blissful state and are instead subject to physical and mental pain and suffering? The answer is, that the Spiritual self has brought on itself this present state (by what-ever process it may be) by identifying itself with a transitory bodily vehicle and a restless mind. The Spiritual self being thus identified,


feels itself sorry for or delighted at a corre-sponding unhealthy and unpleasant or healthy and pleasant state of the body and mind. Because of this identification, the Spiritual self is being continually disturbed by their transitory states. To take even the figurative sense of identification: a mother who is in deep identification with her only child suffers and feels intense pain merely by the very hearing of her child's probable or real death, whereas she may feel no such pain if she hears of the death of a neighboring mother's child "\vith whom she has not identified herself. Now we can imagine tl1e consciousness when the iden-tification is real and not figurative. Thus the sense of identification witlz the transitory body and restless mind is the source or root-cause of our Spiritual self's misery.

Identification of tl1e Spiritual self with the body and mind being the primary cause of pain, we should now turn to a psychological analysis of the immediate or proximate causes of


pain and to the distinction between pain, pleasure, and Bliss.

Because of this identification the Spiritual self seems to l1ave certain tendencies, mental and physical. Desire for tl1e fulfillment of tl1ese tendencies creates want, and want pro-duces pain. Now tl1ese tendencies or inclina-tions are either natural or created, natural tendencies producing natural want and created tendencies produci11g created want. A created want becomes a natural want in time through habit. Of 'vhatever sort the want may be, it gives pain. The more wants we have, the greater tl1e possibilities of pain. For the more wants we l1ave, the more difficult is it to fulfill them, and the more wants remain unfulfilled, the greater is the pain. Increase desires and wants, and pai11 is also increased. Thus if desire finds no prospect of immediate fulfillment, or finds an obstruction, pain immediately arises. And what is desireP It is nothing but a ne'v condition of ''excitation''

TilE SCIENCE OF RELIGION 23

which the mind puts on itself-a wl1im of the mind created tl1rougl1 company. Titus desire, or the increase of conditions of "excitation" of the mind, is the source of pain or misery, and also of the mistake of seeking to fulfill wants by first creating and i1~creasing them, and then by trying to satisfy then1 with objects rather than lessening them from the beginning.

It migl1t appear that pain is sometimes produced \vithout tl1e presence of previous desire, for example, pain from a boil. But \Ve should observe l1ere tl1at tl1e desire to re-main i11 a state of healtl1 'vl1ich, consciously or subconsciously, is present in our mind and is crystallized into our pl1ysiological organism, is contradicted in tl1e above case by tl1e pres-ence of the unhealthy state, viz., tl1e presence of the boil. Thus \Vl1en a certain exciting con-dition of the mind in tl1e form of a desire is not satisfied or ren1oved, pain results.

As desire, I have pointed out, leads to pain, so it leads also to pleasure, the only difference


being that in the frrst case want i11volved in desire is not satisfied, 'vhile in tl1e second case want i11volved i11 desire seems to be satisfied by tl1e presence of external objects. But this I)leasurable experience, resulting from tl1e ful-fillment of the want by objects, does not re-main lo11g but dies away, a11d 've retain only tl1e memory of the objects tl1at seemed to have removed the 'vant. l-Ienee, in future, desire for tl1ose objects brought in by memory revives, and there arises a feeling of want which, if unfulfilled, again leads to pain.

Pleasure is a double consciousness-made up of an ''excitation" consciousness of possession of the thing desired and of the consciousness that pain for want of tl1e thing is felt no more. That is, there is an element of both feeling and thought in it. This latter contrast conscious-ness, i.e., tl1e entire consciousness (how much pain I felt ''rl1en I did not have the thing and how I now have no pain, as I have got the thing I wanted), is what mainly constitutes for


men the charm of pleasure. Hence we see that consciousness of want precedes- and consciousness of the \Va11t being fulfilled e11ters into-pleasurable consciousness. Tl1us it is want a11cl the fulfillme11t of "\Vant \"vith "-hich the pleasure coi1sciousness is con-cerned. It is mi11d that creates "\vant and fulfills it.

It is a great mistake to regard a certain object as pleasurable in itself ancl to store tl1e idea of it in the mind in tl1e l1ope of fulfilling a "rant by its actual presence in the future. If objects were pleasurable in tl1emsel\res, then the same dress or food 'vould al,vays please every one, V{l1icl1 is not the case. \Vl1at is called pleasure is a creation of tl1e mind-it is a deluding, ''excitation/' consciousn.ess, depend-ing upon the satisfaction of the preceding state of desire and upo1~ presen,t contrast consciousness. The more a thi11g is thought to excite pleas-urable consciousness and the n1ore tl1e 'vant of it is harbored in tl1e mind, the more the pos-


sibility of l1a11kering after the thing itself the prese11ce of \vl1ich is thought to bring a pleas-urable consciousness and its absence a sense of want. Botl1 of tl1ese states of consciousness lead ultimately to pain. So if we are to really lessen pai11, \Ve are, as far as possible, to free tl1e mind gradt1ally from all desire and sense of want. If clesire for a particular thing, sup-posed to remove the want, is banished, delud-ing, ''excitation'' consciousness of pleasure does not arise, even if the tl1ing is somello\v present before us. But instead of lessening or decreas-ing the sense of want, we habitually increase it and create ne\v and various wants for the satisfying of one, resulting in a desire to ful-fill tl1em all. For instance, to avoid tl1e want of money we start a business. In order to carry on the business we have to pay attention to thousands of \vants and necessities that the carrying 011 of a business entails. Each want and necessity in turn involves other wants and more attention, and so on. Thus we see that


the original pain involved in want of money is a thousand times mt1ltiplied by the creation of other wants a11d interests. Of course it is not meant that the running of a busi-ness or earning of money is bad or ab-solutely unnecessary. The point is that the desire to create greater and greater \vants is bad.

If i11 undertaking to earn mo11ey for some end we make money otir end, our 1nadr1ess be-gins. For tl1e mea11s becomes the end and the real end is lost sight of. A11d so again our mis-ery commences. Tl1e question may be-l1ow does our misery begin~ Tl1e ans,ver is this. In this "rorld every 011e has l1is dt1ties to perform. Let us, for the sake of con,Tenience, review the former instance. The family man has to earn money to support l1is family, \vhich means the doing a\vay of l1is wa11ts ancl those of l1is family. To ear11 money, let us suppose he starts a business and begins to attend to the details that will make it possible and success-


ful. No'v 'vhat ordi11arily l1appens after a tin1e~ Tl1e business goes 011 SliCcessftilly and money perhaps rapidly accumulates tintil it is much more than is necessary for the fulfillment of his wants and tl1ose of l1is family. Now one of two things l1appe11s. Either money comes to be earned for its own sake and a peculiar pleasure comes to be felt i11 l1oarding, or it may happen tl1at the hobby of running this business for its o'vn sake persists or increases tl1e more. We see that in either case tl1e means of qt1elling original wants-whicll was tl1e end-has become an end in itself -money or business has become the end. Or it may happen that new and unnecessary wants are created and an effort is made to meet them 'vith things. In any case our sole atte11tion drifts away from Bliss ( wl1ich we, by nature, mistake for pleasure and the latter becomes our end). Then the purpose for which we apparently started business becomes secondary to the creation or increase of


conditions or means. A11d at the root of creation or increase of conditions or mea11s there is a desire for them wl1ich is a11 excitation or feeli11g, and also a mental picture of tl1e past \Vhen these conditions gave rise to pleasure. Naturally the desire seeks fulfillment by tl1e presence of these co11ditions; \vl1en it is fulfilled, pleasure arises, \vhen 11ot fulfilled, pain arises. A11d because pleasure, as we remarked already, is born of desire and is connected 'vith transitory tllings, it leads to excitation and pain \vhe11 tl1ere is a disappear-ance of tl1ose things. Tl1at is l1o\v our misery commences. To put it briefly: from the original purpose of the })usiness, \Vl1icl1 was the removal of physical 'rants, ''re turn to the means,-either to the business itself or to the hoarding of \vealtl1 con1ing out of it,-or sometimes to tl1e creation of ne'v 'vants, and because \Ve fi11d pleasure in these 've are dra,vn away to pain, ,.vhicl1, as ",.e pointed out, is a},~vays an indirect outco111e of pleasure.


What is true of the earning of money is also true of every action of the world. Whenever we forget our true end-the attainment of Bliss or the state, condition, or mode of living eventually leading to it-and direct our sole attention to the things which are mistakenly thought to be the 1neans or conditions of Bliss, and turn them into ends, our wants, desires, excitatior~s go on increasing, and we are started on the road to misery or pain. We should never forget O!lr goal. We should put a hedge rou11d our wants. We should not go on i11creasing tl1em from more to more, for that will bring misery in the end. I do not mean, l1owever, that we should not satisfy necessary wants, arising out of our relation to the whole 'vorld, and become idle dreamers and idealists, ignoring our own essential part in promoting human progress.

To sum up: pain results from desire, and in an indirect way also from pleasure, which stands as a will-o' -the-wisp to lure people

TI-IE SCIENCE OF RELIGION 31

away i11to tl1e mire of wants to make tl1em ever miserable.

Thus we see desire is tl1e root of all misery, \vhich arises out of the sense of identification of our "self" witl1 mind and body. So what we should do is to kill attachment by doin~g away with the sense of ide1~tijication. We should break the cord of attachment and identifica-tion only. We should play our parts, as appointed by the Great Stage Manager, on the stage of tl1e world with our whole mind, intellect, and body, in\vardly as unaffected or unruffled by pleasure and pai11 consciousness as are tl1e players 011 a11 ordinary stage. Whe11 tl1ere is dispassion and severing of identifica-tiot1, Bliss-consciousness arises in us. As long as you are human you can not but have desires. Being huma11, how tl1en can you realize your divinity~ First ratio11alize your desires, tl1en stimulate your desire for nobler things, all the \vhile trying to attain Bliss-con-sciousness. You will feel that the cord of your


individual attachment to those desires is being automatically snappe~l. That is to say, from that calm center of Bliss you will ultimately learn to disown your own desires and feel them as ])eing urged in you by a great Law. So Jesus Cl1rist said, ''Let Tl1y will be done, 0 Father, not my own."

Wl1en I say that to attain Bliss is the U11iversal e11cl of Religion, I do not n1ean by Bliss vvhat is usually called pleasure, or that intellectual satisfaction 'vhich arises from the fulfillment of desire a11cl want and which is mixed 'vith a11 excitation, as when we say we are pleasurably excited. In Bliss there is no excitement, nor is it a co11trast consciousness that "my pai11 or want has been removed by the presence of such and such objects." It is a consciousness of perfect tranquillity-a consciousness of our calm nature unpolluted by tl1e intruding consciousness that pai11 is no more. An illustration will make the thing clear. I have a boil, a11d feel pain; when


cured I feel pleasure. Tl1is pleasurable COll-sciousness co11sists of a11 "excitation" or feeli11g, and a contrast thougl1t-consciousness tl1at I am no lo11ger feeling the pai11 of tl1e boil. N o\v tl1e ma11 wl1o l1as attained Bliss, tl1ougl1 l1aving had a boil on l1is leg, 'vill feel, \Vl1e11 cured, tl1at l1is state of tranquillity l1ad neitl1er been disturbed, 'vhe11 tl1e boil \vas, nor regained 'vhen it was cured. He feels tl1at l1e passed tl1rOt1gl1 a pain-pleasure u11iverse witl1 wl1ich he really l1as no co1111ection or 'vl1ich can neither disturb nor l1eighten tl1e tranqliil or blissful state "\Vl1icl1 flo,vs on 'vitl1out ceasing. Tl1is state of Bliss is free from botl1 inclina-tions and excitement involved i11 pleasure or this pain.

Tl1ere is a positive a11d a 11egative aspect in Bliss-consciousness. The negative aspect is tl1e absence of pleasure-pain consciousness; the positive one is the tra11scendental state of a superior calm includi11g 'vitl1in itself tl1e consciousness of a great ex1)ansio11 a11tl tl1at of


"all in 011e and One in all." It has its degrees. A11 earnest truth-seeker gets a little taste of it, a seer or a prophet is filled with it.

Pleasure and pain havi11g their origin in desire and wa11t, it should be our duty, if we 'vish to attain Bliss, to banish desire and what seriously fans desire. If all our improvements -scientific, social, and political-are guided bv this one common universal end,-removal

..,

of pain,-,vl1y should \Ve bring in a foreign sometl1ing-pleasure-and forget to be dura-bly fixed in what is tranquillity or BlissP He who enjoys the pleasure of l1ealth will inevit-ably sometimes feel tl1e pain due to ill-health, because pleasure depends upon a condition of the mind, viz., the idea of healtl1. To have good l1ealtl1 is not bad nor is it wrong to seek it. But to have attachment to it, to be pleasurably or painfully affected by it, is what is objected to. For to be so m~ans entertaining desire, 'vhich will lead to misery. We must seek health not for the pleasure in it

1,HE SCIENCE OF PlELIGION 35

but because it n1akes the performance of duties and tl1e attainn1ent of otlr goal possible. It will some time or other be coi1traclicted by the opposing condition, viz., ill-healtl1. But Bliss depends upon no particular conditio11, external or i11ternal. It is a native state of the spirit. Tl1erefore it has 110 fear of })eiiJg con-tradicted by tl1e op1)0sing co11dition. It willflo,,r on C011tii1ually for ever, ir1 defeat or success, in healtl1 or disease, in opulence or poverty.

Now tl1e above psychological disct1ssion about pain, pleasure, a11d Bliss, ,-vitll tl1e l1elp of tl1e follo,vi11g t\vo exam})les, \vill n1ake clear n1y conceptio11 of tl1e higl1est con1n1011 Ileces-sity a11d of tl1e Gocl-l1eacl, \vl1icl1 \Vas toucl1ed upon incidei1tally at the l)eginni11g. We remarked at tl1e outset that if \Ve n1ade a close obser,ration of tl1e actions of men, 've should see tl1at the 011e fUI1damental and universal motive for 'vl1ich man acts is the permane11t avoidance of 1)ain a11d tl1e C011seqt1ent aLtain-me11t of Bliss, or God. Tl1e first part of the


motive, i.e., the permanent avoida11ce of pain, is something we can not de11y, if we observe the motives of all tl1e best and worst actions performed i11 tl1e "\Vorlcl. Take the case of a person who wishes to commit suicide and tl1at of a truly religious n1an who has dispassion for tl1e things of the \vorld. There can be no dotibt about the fact that l)otl1 of tl1ese men are trying to get rid of the pain \Vl1icl1 is troubling them. Botl1 are trying to permanently put an end to pain. Whether they are successful or not is a different question, but so far as their motives are concerned there is unity. (The question of the means of perma11ently doi11g away with pain will be discussed later on.) But are all actions in this world directly prompted by the desire for the attainment of per-manent Bliss, or God, the second part of the common motive for all actionsP Does the debaucl1ee have for his immediate motive tl1e attainment of Bliss~ Hardly. The reason


for this "\Ve pointed 011t in our discussion about pleasure and Bliss. ''re found tl1at because of the icler1tificatio11 of tl1e Spiritual self with the body it has got i11to the habit of indulging in desires ancl tl1e consequent creation of wants. Tl1ese desires and \Vants lead to pain, if not fulfilled-and to pleasure, if fulfilled-by objects. But here occurs a fatal error on tl1e part of man. When a want is wfulfilled man gets a pleasurable excitement and fixes his eye, tl1rougl1 a sad n1istake, solely upon the objects \vhich create tl1is ex-citement, and supposes them to be tl1e main causes of l1is pleasure. He er1tirely forgets that he l1ad formerly an excitatio11 in the form of desire or "\vant in his ovrn n1ind, and that later he had anotl1er excitation in his mind supersecli11g tl1e frrst one, in tl1e form of pleasure 'vl1icl1 tl1e coming of objects seems to produce. So, as a matter of fact, one excita-tion arose in the mi11d and 'vas superseded by another in the same n1ind.


Outward objects are only the occasions-they are 11ot causes. They are mistakenly thought to produce pleasure. Desire for deli-cacies by a poor person can be satisfied by an ordinary sweetmeat, and this fulfillment will give rise to pleast1re. But the desire for clelicacies on tl1e part of a ricl1 person can perhaps be satisfied only by the best of Clrristmas cake, and tl1e fulfillme11t 'vill also give tl1e san~e amount of pleasure. Then d9es pleasure depend on outward objects, or 01~ the state of mi1~d? Surely the latter. But pleas-ure, as "re said, is an excitation. Therefore it is never justifiable to drive away the excita-tion in desire by another excitation, viz., that felt in pleasure. Because we do this our excitations never end, and so our pain and misery never cease. What we should do is to set at rest tl1e excitation that is in desire and not to fan or continue it by excitation in pleasure. This setting at rest is rendered possible, in an effective way, only by Bliss-

THE SCIE:\"CE OF RELIGION 39

consciotlsness \Yl1ich is 11ot callousness })ut a superior stage of incliffere11Ce to })otll pai11 and pleasure. Every hu.n1a1~ being is see!?.irzg to attain Bliss by fulfilling desire, but he n?istal?--enly stops at pleasure .. and so his desires ne~ver end, and he is su'ept au,ay into the u,hirtvool of

. paln. Pleasure is a da11gerous \Yill-o '-tl1e-''iS}).

_t\ncl yet it is tl1is I)leasural)le associa tio11 tl1a t becomes our moti,-e for ftlttire actions. But

"

alas! this has provecl to be as cleceptivc as tl1e mirage in a desert. Sic.ce pleasure, as \Yas said before, consists of a11 excitatioil-conscious-ness plus a contrast-consciousilcss tl1at tl1e pain is no,v no n1orc, v~~e prepare oursel,res, 'vl1en \Ye aim at it i11stead of at Bliss, for run1ri11g l1eadlong into tl1at cycle of empirical existence v~-l1icl1 bri11gs pleasure and pain in never-encli11g succession. "\\' e fall into hor::. rible distress })ecause of tl1e cl1ange in our angle of ,-ision fron1 Bliss to pleasure, 'Yhich latter crops up in place of tl1e former. Thus

40 1",HE SCIENCE OF RELIGION

we see that tl1ough the true aim of mankind is the avoidance of pain a11d the attainme11t of Bliss, yet o\:ving to a fatal error man, thougl1 trying to avoid pain, pursues a deluding something named pleasure, mistaking it for Bliss. Tl1at the attainment of Bliss and not pleasure is tl1e U11iversal and Highest Neces-sity is i11directly provecl by the fact that ma11 is never satisfied witl1 one object of pleasure. He al\vays flies from one to another. From money to dress, from dress to property, thence to C011jugal pleasure-there is a restless continuity. And so l1e is constantly falling i11to pain, eve11 if l1e wishes to avoid it, by the adoption of what l1e deems proper means. Yet an unknown and unsatisfied craving seems ever to remai11 in l1is l1eart.

But a religious man (the seco11d example which I proposed to sl1ow) al,vays wishes to adopt proper religious means by which he can come in contact \vith Bliss-God.

Of course when I say that God is Bliss, I


mean also that He is Ever-existent and that He is also conscioLlS of His Blissful Existence. And 'vl1en 've wish Eternal Bliss or God, it is implied that witl1 Bliss "\Ve also 'visl1 Eternal, Immortal, Unchangeable, Ever-conscious Ex-istence. Tl1at all of us, from tl1e l1igl1est to the lowest, desire to be in Bliss l1as ])een proved a priori, and by a consicleration of tl1e motives a11d acts of men. To repeat the argument in a sligl1tly different \vay: suppose

"'

some Higher Being sl1ould co1ne to us and say to all people of tl1e 'vorld, ''You creatures of the world! I 'Yill give yoti eter11al sorro,vs ancl misery along \Yith eter11al existc11ce; \vill you take thatp'' Would any one like tl1e I)rospect~ Not one. All \vant eternal Bliss (A11anclan1) alo11g 'vitl1 eternal existence (Sat). As a matter of fact, consideration of tl1e motives of the \vorld also slloY\-s tl1ere is no one but \vould like to l1ave Bliss or A11andan1. Simi-larly, no one likes tl1e prospect of im1nediate annil1ilation; if it is suggested, "\Ve sl1udder at


tl1e idea. All desire to exist permanently (Sat). But if we ,-vere given eter11al existence without the consciousness of that existence, we would reject that. For wl1o is there that would embrace existence in sleep~ None. We all want co11scious existence. Further-more, we "\Vant Blissful Co11scious Existence. We want Satchidanandam-that is God. But for a pragmatical consideration only we empl1asize tl1e Blissful aspect of God and our

..

motive for Bliss, leaving out two other aspects -Sat and Cl1it, i.e., Conscious Existence. Also other aspects of Him are not d'velt on here.

Now, \vhat is God? If God be something otl1er than Bliss, and His contact produces in us no Bliss, or produces in us only pain, or if His contact does not drive pain away from us, should we 'vant HimP No. If God is something useless to us, we "\Vant Him not. What is the use of a God wl1o remains always unknown and whose presence is not inwardly manifest to us at least in some circumstance in

TI-lE SCIENCE OF RELIGION 43

our life~ '""!"v-l1ate\Ter COI1ception of God \Ye for111 by tl1e exercise of reason or intellect, ,~iz., Transcenclant, 1Il1ll1al1ellt, etc., ,~y-ill al\~.~ays remain vague anc1 inclisti11ct llilless ~eall)- felt as sucl1. In fact, \Ye keep Gcd at a safe clistance, conceivi11g I-Iim S0111eti111es a.s a 1nere Perso11al Being, ail(l tl1en again theoretically tl1i1ll(ii1g Him to ])e 'Yi~l1i11 liS. It is beca11se of this vague11ess i11 our iclca a1.1cl experie11ce

col~cer11ii1g Gocl tl1at 'Ye are L.ot al)le to graS}) tl1e real necessity of God a11cl tl1e 1)ragrr1atical valtie of Religion. Tl1is colorless theor)'" or iclea does 11ot })ring con\-ictioi1 to trs. It ca11 not cl1ange our lives~ i11fltience our co11cluct in an apprecialJle 'yay, or n1ahe us ir)' to l\nou God.

\Vl1at does '-UI1i\-ersal Religion' sa,- about (..; .., GodP It sa)TS tl1at tl1e proof of the exisfe1!ce of God lies in ourselves. It is an inner experie11ce. Recall to vour mind at least some Inoment in

L

)-our life in prayer or "\Yorsl1ip 'Yl1en you felt that the tramn1els of your lJocl\"' l1acl nearlv

~ e./ ...

vanished, tl1at tl1e cluality of e~-perience-

44 TI-lE SCIENCE OF RELIGION

pleasure and pain, petty love and l1ate, etc.-had almost receded from your mind. Pure Bliss a11d tranquillity had been 'velling lip i11 your heart and you "\Yere enjoying an unruffled calm-Bliss a11d contentment. Tl1ough this kind of l1igher experience does not often come to all, yet there can be no doubt of the fact tl1at all men, some time or other, in prayer or in mood of \vorship or meditatio11, perceive it in a less marked degree, at least. Is this _not a proof of tl1e existence of GodP lVhat other direct proof than the existence of Bliss in ourselves in real prayer or worship can we give of the existence and nature of God? Though there is the cosmological proof of the existence of God,-from effect we rise to cause, from the world to the world-maker,-and there is the teleological proof as well, from tl1e telos (plan, adaptation) in the world, we rise to the Supreme Intelligence tl1at makes the plan a11d adaptation. There is also the moral proof-from conscience and the sense of perfection we


rise to the Perfect Bei11g to \Yl1om ot.rr respon-sibility is due. Still, \Ye sllotild adn1it tl1at these proofs are more or less tl1e products of i11fere11Ce. ,, ... e ca11 11ot lla,~e full or clirect kr1o\vledge of God tl1rougl1 tl1e li111ite(l po,vers of tl1e i11tellect. I11tellect gi,-es 0111y a partial a11d indirect ,-ie\Y of tl1i11gs. To ,~ie\Y a tl1i11g ii1tellectually is 11ot to see it })y l)ei11g 011e \Yitl1 it: it is to vie\Y it b)~ hei11g apart fro111 it. But Intuition, \Yl1icl1 \Ye sl1alllater explai11, is the clirect grasp of truth. It is i11 tl1is Intuition tl1at Bliss-coi1sciouSiless, or Gocl-consciotis-Iless, is realized.

There is rlol a shadow of doubt as to the absolute ide11iii)' of Bliss-cor~sciozzsness and God-consciousness, })ecause \Yl1en \Ye hav-e tl1at Bliss-consciotiSiless \Ye feel tl1at otrr narro'v individualit\i has been transfor1Y1ed and that

tl

've have rise11 abo-v-e the cluality of petty Io,~e a11d hat_e, pleasure a11d pain, etc., and lla,-e attained a }e,-el frol!l '' h.icl1 tl1e pai11f ul11ess a11d \YorthlesSiless of eiupirical consciousness


become glaringly apparent. And we also feel an inward expansion and all-embracing sympathy for all tl1ings. The tumults of the world die a"\vay, excitements disappear, and the "all i11 One and 011e i11 all" consciousness seems to da,vn upon us. A glorious vision of light appears. All imperfections, all angular-ities, sink into 11otl1i11g11ess. We seen1 to be tra11slated into anotl1er region, the fountain-llead of pere1111ial Bliss, the starting point of one unending continuity. Is not Bliss-con-sciousness, tl1en, tl1e same as God-con-sciousness, in 'vl1ich (God-consciousness) the above states of realization seem obviousfl It is evident, then, tl1at God cannot be better con-ceived than as Bliss coming within the range of every one's calm-experience. No longer will God ])e a supposition, to be theorized over. Is tl1is not a nobler conception of God~ He is perceived as manifesting Himself in our hearts in the form of Bliss in meditation-in prayerful or worshipful mood. If we conceive

THE SCIENCE OF RELIGION ~17

of God in this uay, i. e., as Bliss, Lhert and tlzerl only can, u,e n1ake Religio1~ univer5ally necessary. For no 011e ca11 deny that l1e \-risl1es to get Bliss, and if l1e \1, isl1es to get Bliss i!1 Ll1e proper \vay, l1e is going to be religious tl1rougl1 approaclli11g a11d fee:iing Gocl, '' l1o is described as very close to l1is l1eart as Bliss.

This Bliss-coi1sciotis~ess or Gocl-col1Scious-ness can pervacie all otlr actio11s a11d 111oocls. if 've but let it. If \Ye ca11 get firn1 l1old of tl1is, 've ~ sl1all be al1le to j uclge tl1e rela ti ,~e religious \Yortl1 of ev-er\r I11i110r actior1 ancl ll!oti,-e on

"

tl1is eartl1. If \Ye arc 011ce con',-iilcccl tl1at tl1e attainrue11t of tl1is Bliss-cor1_scious11ess is Ol.Ir Religio11, ol~r goal, otrr uliin1ate end, tl1en all dou]Jts as to tl1e n1ea11i11g of n1ultifarious teacl1i11gs, ir1jui1ctio:us, a11cl prol1il)itio11S of tl1e different faitl1s of tl1e \Yorld "\vill clisDIJI)ear.

E,~er)'tl1ing \vill be i11 ter1)re ted i11 tl1e ligl1 t of tl1e stage of gro\rtll for \Y~1icl1 it is prescribecl. Trutl1 \vill sl1ine out .. tl1e 11ryster,- of existe11ce

/ ~ "

\Yill be so},-ecl, and a ligl1t \Yilll)e tl1ro\r11 11pon


the details of our lives, 'vith their various actions and motives. vv~e sl1all be able to separate the naked truth from tl1e out,vard appendages of religious doc tri11es and see the 'vortl1lessness of conventio11s that so ofte11 mislead men and create differences between tl1em. Further, if religion is understood in tl1is way tl1ere is no man in tl1e world-be l1e a boy, youth, or an old perso11-\\rl1o can not practise it, whatever may be the statio11 of life to wl1icl1 l1e belongs,

be it student or professional life, or be l1e a lawyer, doctor, carpenter, brazier, scholar, or philanthropist. If to abolisl1 the se11se of want and attain Bliss is Religion, who is there. that is not trying to be religious and will not try to be so in a greater degree, if proper methods are pointed out. Herein does not arise the questio11 of the variety of religions-that of Christ, of Mahomet, or of the I-Iindus. Every one in tl1e 'vorld is inevitably trying to be religious, and can seek to be more com-pletely so by tl1e adoption of proper means.

TI-IE SCIENCE OF RELIGIOK 49

Tl1ere is 110 distir1ctior1 l1ere of caste or creed, sect or faitl1, dress or clime, age or sex, profession or positio11. For tl1is Religion is Uni,-ersal.

If you said that all tl1e people of tl1e \Yorld Ol1gl1t to accept tl1e Lord Krisl111a as tl1eir Gocl, \voulcl all tl1e Cl1ristia11s ar1d tl1e l\Ial1on1edar1s accept tl1atP If )-ou asked ever)r 011e to take Jesus as tl1eir Lord, 'voulcl all the I-Iinclus and WlahOilleclaiJS do t}latp _\rld if agai11 you bade all accept l\Iaho111et as tl1eir Lord, ,yould all tl1e Clrristians and Hi11dt1s agree to tl1atP But if you Sa)-' u011, ll1Y Cllristiar1, ~Ial10llledai1 a11cl Hi11dt1 Bretl1rcn, your Lor(l God is E-ver-Blissful ConscioliS Existe11ce (Bei11g), ~' \vill tl1ey not accept tlus~ Car1 tl1ey possibl-y reject it~ ,,~ill tl1ey not clemand Him as tl1e 011ly One \Yllo car1 put an e11d to all tl1eir n1iseries~

Nor ca11 011e esca1)e tl1is conclusio11 })y Sa)-ii1g tl1at Christians, Hil1dus, or ~IallOllledans clo not COI1cei,;"e J esliS, l(risl1I1a, or

50 TI-IE SCIENCE OF RELIGION

Mahomet respectively as their Lord God,-tlley are thougl1t to be only the standard-bearers of God, the l1t1man incarnations of divinity. "That if one thinks that way~ It is not tl1e physical body of Jesus, Krishna, or Mal1omet that V\re are primarily interested in, nor are "-e so much concer11ed witl1 the historical place they occupy. Nor are they immemorable to us because of their different and interesting ways of preaching God. We revere them because they knew and felt God. It is tl1at fact that interests us in their historical existence and i11 tl1eir manifold ways of expressing the truth. They might or might not he on tl1e same plane. Let the hard-sl1elled theologians and difference-hunt-ers in religion fight over that question eternal-ly and vainly. But did they not belong to a more or less close family of God~ Did they not all realize God as Bliss and reveal real blessedness as true godliness~ Is not that a sufficient bond of unity among them,-let

TI-IE SCIEXCE OF RELIGIOl\" 51

alo11e other aspects of Godl1ead a11d trutl1 tl1ey migl1t l1ave realized and expressed. Sl1oulcli1.t a Cl1ristia11, a Hi11clt1, a11cl a l\Ial1omecia11 find a 111utual i11terest i11 eacl1 otl1ers pro1)l1ets, inasn1ucl1 as eacl1 of tl1e1n cl1erisl1ed i11 l1is l1eart Gocl-coi1scious11ess as pri111arily Su1)erior Bliss-collsciousness9 _\.s Gocl u11ites all re-ligions, is it 11ot tl1e conception a11cl realization of Him as Bliss, if 11ot ai1)-tl1i11g else~ tl1at unites tl1e COl1Sciott.Sl1ess of tl1e l)I"OI)llets of all

religio11s~~ 011e sl1ot1ld 11ot tl1i11k tl1at tl1is COI1ceptio11 of

God is too al)strnct, lla,~ing 11otl1ing to clo '' itl1 our spiritual l101)es ancl aspirations, \Yhicl1 reqtiire tl1e coi1ce1) tio11 of Gocl as a Perso11al Being. It is 11ot tl1e coi1ceptio11 of a11 l111per-

*Bliss-consciousness 1s also stressed In so-culled athetstic rehg1ons,-such as Buddlusn1 The Buddlnstic .. ~ll Yrrna' 1s not, as l111staker..ly supposed by \Ye5tern \\nteis, a "blo\\Ing out of hght," an e~tlnctlon of C\.Istcnce It 1s ralhcr the stage \\There n:J.ITO\\. 1nd1Yiduahty 1s blotted out and transcen-dant calm 111 univers,~l!ty 1s re~:ched This IS ex::ctly \\hnt comes of higher Bhss-consciousncss, though the nJmc of God 1s not attached to 1t by the Buddhist.


sonal Being, as commonly understood, nor that of a Personal Being, as narrowly C011-ceived. God is not a Perso11, as are we in our narrowness. Our being, consciousness, feel-irlg, volition l1ave but a shadow of resemblance to His Being (Existence), Consciousness, and Anandam. He is a Person in the transcen-dental sense. Our being, consciousness, feel-ing are limited and empirical; His are un-limited and transce11dei1tal. Nor sl1ould He be thought of as Abstract, Absolute, Imper-sonal, Unconditional, Remote, and beyond the reach of all experience-even our inner one. He, as I l1ave remarked, comes within the calm experience of me11. It is in Bliss-con-sciousness that we realize Him. There can be no otl1er direct proof of His existence. It is in Him as Bliss that our spiritual hopes and aspirations find fulfillment-our devotion and love find an object. No other conception of a Personal Being who is nothing but ourselves magnified is required for us. God may be or

TI-lE SCIE~CE OF RELIGION 53

become anytl1ing-Personal, Impersonal, _,\Jl-merciful, Or11nipotei1t, etc., etc. \\t-l1at \Ye say is that \Ve do not require to take note of these. ll7halever coFiception u__,e have put forth e;cactly suits our purposes, our hopes. our aspira-tion-S, arLd our perf eel ion.

Nor sl1ould \Ye tl1i11k tl1at tl1is C0!1Ception of God ,,-ill make tiS clreaJ.1TY idealists, seyeri11g our connectio11 "\Yitl1 tl1e cl11ties and respon-

sibi~ties, joys and sorro\YS, of tl1is practical "\Vorld. If Gocl is Bliss a11cl if \Ye seek Bliss to kno\v Hin1, \Ye can not 11eglect tl1e duties and responsilJilities of tl1e "\Yorlcl. Ir1 tl1e perform-ance of tl1er11 \Ye ca11 still feel Bliss. for it is beyo11d tl1em, a11d so tl1ey can 11ot affect it. 'V e transcend tl1e joys ar1cl sorro\vs of tl1e ,,-orld in Bliss, but 'Ye do 11ot tra11scend tl1e duties and respor1sibilities in tl1e se11se of neglecti11g them. For in doing e,-erytl1ii1g-eatii1g, dri11ki11g~ seeing, l1eari11g~ feeli11g. sn1ell-ing, tasting .. sorro,Ying, feeling I)leasure, per-forming e\~ery llllllUte dUt)7 Of tl1e \YOrld-\Ye

54 TliE SCIENCE OF RELIGION

do nothing, 've eat, drink, see, l1ear, feel, sn1ell, taste nothing,-we feel no sorro\v nor pleasure. We ren1ain unattached; all actions flo,v from our nature-that is l1un1an. We, bathed in an u11ending flo,v of Bliss, feel our "self" to be the dispassionate seer of all our actions. Our narro'v egoism va11isl1es, the All-Ego da\Vl1S, a11d Bliss spreads through our being. We feel that we are playing our appointed parts on tl1e stage of the ":orld, \vithout being inwardly affected by the weal and \voe, love and hate, that the playing of a part involves.

Verily, in all respects the world can be likened to a stage. The stage manager chooses people to help him in the enactment of a certain play. He allots particular parts to particular persons-all of them "\York accord-ing to his directions. One the stage manager makes a ki11g, one a minister, one a servant, another the hero, and so on. One has to play a sorrowful part, another a joyful one. If

THE SCIE~CE OF RELIGION 55

eacl1 011e plays l1is part accorcli11g to tl1e clirectio11S of tl1e stB ge 11:a11ager, tl1e~1 tl1e play, \Yith all its di,-ersities of ro11;.iraL serious, sorro\Yful parts, lJeCOI!~:es sticcessftil. E\-ell tl1e ii1sig11ifica11t 1)arts lla,-e tl1eir i11dispe11-sable places i11 tl1e play. Tl1e success of tl1e play lies in tl1e perfect pla~-ing 011t of eacl1 part. Each actor pla)-s l1is part of sorro\Y or fJleastire realistically, ancl to all Otlt\varcl aiJI)earances seen1s to be affected lJv it: btit iil\Yardi,- l1e

~ ~

reni.ains untouched ])y it or b)1 tl1e passions he portrays-love, l1ate, clcsire, 111alicc., glor)-, ht1n1ility. But if any actor, i11 tl1e J)la)~ing of a part, icle11tified l1i111self \Yitl1 a certain situatio11 or a 1)artict1lar feeling e~~pressecl ir1 the play and lost l1is O\Yl1 iilcli,-iciualit), he \vould be tl1oligl1t foolisl1~ to sa~- tl1e least .

.~.~ story 'Yill })ring Otlt the latter }Joint clearly. Once in tl1e llotise of a ricl1 111a11 tl1e plaJ'- of

Ran1aya11 ,,-as stagecl. I11 tl1e course of tl1e play it ''as fotrncl tl1at tl1e 11~a11 "\Yllo sl1ould play the part of Ht1nun1a11 (Inonkey), tl1e


attendant-friend of Ram, was missing. In l1is perplexity the stage manager seized upon an ugly simpleton, Nilkamal by name, and sought to make l1im e11act the part of Hunu-man. Nilkamal at fu:st refused, but was forced to appear on the stage. His ugly appeara_nce excited loud laugl1ter among the spectators and they began to shout in merri-ment, "Hunuman,Htlnuman!'' Nilkamalcould hardly bear this. He forgot that it wa~ a play, and ba"rled out in real exasperation and disgust, ''Wl1y, Sirs, do you call me Hurtuman? Why do you laugh~ I am not a Huntlman. The stage manager made me come out here this way.'' This excited further roars of laughter from the audience and they began to shout in right earnest, "Huntlman, Hunuman!" Nilkamal, mad with rage and disgust, not understanding the meaning of all this, retired from the stage exclaiming, "I am not a Hunuman; how can I be made a Hunuman. ''

1,HE SCIENCE OF RELIGIO~ 57

1'\ilkamal failed to disti11guisl1 bet,veen the real Hl.lnurnar" a11d tl1e Hurtun1an of tl1e pla)i. In tl1is "\vorlcl our Ii,-es are 11otl1ing but r)Iays. But alas! \Ye identify otlrsel,~es vritl1 tl1e play, and hence feel disgust_ sorro\Y. pleasure, etc. "\Ve forget tl1e directio11 a11cl injunction of tl1e Great Stage ~'ia11ager. In tl1e act of Ii,-ing our liveS-})laying our parts-\Ye feel as real all our sorro"\YS a11d pleasures, Ia,~es and l1ates -in a \Yorcl, \Ye becorae attacl1ed, affectecl. Tl1is play of tl1e \Yorld is \Yitl1ot1t lJeginning and encl. E\-ery 011e n1t1st play l1is part, as assig11ed by tl1e Great Stage l\Ianager, un-g,rudgingly; must })lay for tl1e sake of tl1e 11lay only; must act sorro\,ful 'vhen playing sorrov{-ful parts, or pleased \Yl1en playing pleastrrable parts, but should never be ii1\Yarclly idertfijied with the plaJ'-\Yith its sorro\YS a11cl pleastrres._ loves and l1ates. ~or sl1ot1ld 011e \Yisl1 to fJla)-anotl1ers part. If e,~ery one aspires to play tl1e role of a ki11g, the pia)- \Yill be i111possil)le.

58 1',fiE SCIENCE OF RELIGION

He wl1o l1as attai11ed to the superior stage of Bliss-conscious11ess will feel the "rorld to be a stage and play out his part as best he can, feeli11g it as such, remembering the Great Stage Manager (God), and knowing and feeling His nature in its every aspect- His plan and direction.

NOTE -The derivation of the word "religion" f1om religare, to bind (see page 10) has been adopted by St Augustine, Lactantius, Lucretius, and Servius. (See Enc. Brit., lith Edition.)

CH_\PTER II

FouR Fvxn_\~IEXT_-\.L RELIGious ~IETHODS

,, ... e lla,~e see::.1 i11 ti~e last cllafJter tl1at tl1e icle11tificatiol1 of tl1e S1)iritu.al self \ritl1 lJocly and 1nincl is tl1e fu11clar1~e11tal catise of our pain, Stifferi11g. a11cl lin1itatio11S" a11cl tl1at because of tl1is icle11tificatioi1 \Ye feel Stlcll

e~citations as pair1 a11cl pleasure\ ae.cl are alrnost bli11cl to tl1e state of Bliss, or Gocl-consciousiless. ,,-e lla,-e also see11 tl1at re-ligion esse11tially consiE,lS i11 tl1e })eri11aJ1eilt avoidance of sucl1 1)ai11 a11d i11 the uttainrllCilt of pure Bliss, or Gocl.

As tl1e sun~s true i1nage calli1ot be perceiyed in tl1e surface of n1o,-i11g \Yater, so tJ1e trtie blissful 11ature of the Spiritual self-tl1e reflection of tl1e l-:Lli\-ersal Spirit-ca1111ot be unclerstoocl o'Ying to tl1e 'Ya,-es of disquietude tl1at arise from icler1tifica tio11 of tl1e self \Yitl1 the cl1anging states of tl1e }Joel~~ and mi11d~


As tl1e movi11g waters distort the true image of the sun, so does tl1e disturbed state of tl1e mind, through identification, distort tl1e true, Ever-Blissful nature of our own self.

The purpose of this chapter is to discuss the easiest, most rational, and most funda-mental methods (practical for all) that will free the Ever-Blissful, Spiritual self from its baneful connection a11d identification \Vith the transitory body and mind, thus causing it "to permanently avoid pain and attain Bliss, whicJ1 constitutes Religion. Therefore the fundamental methods to be considered are religious and involve religious actions, because only by means of these can the Spiritual self be freed from the body and mind and thus from pain, and be made to attain permanent Bliss, or God.

A general idea of the religious method is given in one, among a great many, of Christ's teachings. He says, "Unless ye have lifted up the Son of man, ye can not enter into the

THE SCIE~CE OF RELIGIO~ 61

kingdom of Gocl .. , TI1e "'So11 of n1an'" mear1s tl1e progei1)~ of man, i.e., the body \Yl1icl1 is born out of another I1urnan bod)r. It may seem to us that 'Son of n1an "" n1eans some-tiling other tl1an tl1is-tl1at it n1ea11s Christ. Granti11g tl1is, 'Ye are tl1en to i11terpret tl1e 11ext sayir1g of Christ, "1.,lle Sor1 of 111a11 sl1all be deli,;ered u11to tl1e Ge11tiles ancl l-Ie si1all be crucified,'' as n1ea11ing tl1at Clrrist, tl1e Eternal SrJirit, '-ras to be cruci.fiecl lJ)? 111aterial nails ancl His Spirit destro-y-eel, an expla11ation \Yl1icl1 is ob,Tiously absurd; for it \Yas tl1e material bod)'" only, i11 \Vllich tl1e Spirit of Clrrist ,,-as clotl1ecl, tl1at could possilJly be crucified, 11ot tl1e S}Jirit. ''; e ca11 explain tl1e first qtioted sa)-ii1g of Cl1rist in tl1is 'vay: unless "\Ye car1 transcend ti1e bod,- and realize

t/

ourselves as spirit, \Ye cannot e11ter into the kingdom or state of tl1at uni,-ersal Spirit. vV e fi11cl an ecl1o of tl1is in a Sa11skrit couplet of tl1e Orie11tal scri1)tures: "If tl1ou canst tra11-

....

sceilcl the bod-y ancl perceiv-e tl1yself as spirit,


thou shalt be eternally blissful and free from all pain.'' (Wl1en Christ called himself Son of God, he mear1t the Universal Spirit dwelling in him.)

Now there are four fundamental, universal religious methods which, if followed in daily life, will in time liberate the Spiritual self from tl1e trammels of its bodily and mental vehicles. Under these four classes of religious methods I include all tl1e possible religious practices that llave ever been el1joined by any saint or savant or any propl1et of God. Re-ligious practices are inculcated by prophets in the form of doctrines. JVIenof limited intellect, failing to interpret the true import of these doctrines, accept their exoteric or outer mean-i11g and gradually fall into forms, conven-tions, and rigid practices. This is the origin of sectarianism. Rest from work on the sab-bath day was i11terpreted by the Jews to mean rest from all 'vork-even religiotis \vork. This is the danger to me11 of limited understanding.

TI-IE SCIEXCE OF RELIGION 63

''Te sl1ould ren1e111ber tl1at \Ye are not 111acle for the sal)batl1, btit tl1at tl1e sabl;atll is 111ade for us: \Ye are 110t made for rules, rules are made for us- tl1ey cl1a11ge as cir-cun1stances cl1a11ge. \"\r e are to l1old to tl1e esse11ce of a rule, not clogi11aticall~y to its form. Cl1a11ge of for111s a11cl custon1s consti-

v

tutes for ma11y a cl1a11ge fro111 one religio11 to a11otl1er. But tl1e deepest in1port of all tl1e doctrines of all tl1e differe11t propl1ets is ofte11 the. same. l\lost 111e11 clo 110 t U11ctersta11d tl1is.

But tl1ere is eqtial da11ger i11 tl1e case of the intellecttiall)r great. Tl1ey try- to kno,\- tl1e Higl1est Trutl1 by tl1e exercise of tl1e iirlellcc t only. Btlt tl1e Higl1est Trutl1 ca11 ])e k110\Yil 011l)r b)r realization. Realization is S0111etl1ing other than mere UI1clerstandi11g. ,,-e cotilcl not possibly 1111derstancl tl1e S\Yeet11ess of sugar if \Ye l1ad 11ot tastecl it. Jtist so, religious kl10\Yledge is clra\Yl1 from tl1e cleepest exyJe-riei1Ce of one "s O\YI1 soul. Tl1is \Ye ofte11 forget

u

'vl1en \Ye seek to learn about God, religious


dogmas, and morality. We do not seek to know tl1ese through inner religious experience. It is a pity that men of great intellectual power, successful in their use of reason in the \vay of discovering the deep truths of the nat-ural sciences, etc., think that they will also be able to grasp intellectually the highest re-ligious and moral truths. It is also a pity that the intellect or reason of these men, instead of being a l1elp, is found to be a bar to their comprehension of the Highest Truth by the only means possible-living it in one's life.

Let us consider the four methods charac-terizing religious growth.

I. INTELLECTUAL METHOD. The com-monly-adopted, natural method, not so effec-tive in realizing the end.

Intellectual development and progression has been natural and hence common to all rational beings. It is our self-conscious un-derstanding which differentiates us from the lo,ver animals, that are conscious but not

THE SCIEXCE OF RELIGION 65

self-conscious. I11 tl1e graclcs ancl })rocesse3 of e\"rOltltiOI1 \Ye see tl1at 1}1iS COl1SCiOe.Sl1CSS gradtlally- l)eC0111es self-co11Scio11S11ess-froin

a1~i111al con_scious11ess self-consciot1Sr1ess arise-s. Tl1e coi1sciotlSI1ess ~::;-a(luall-y tries to free itself

~ ~

ancl tries to kno\Y it&elf Jyv itself. a11d it is t.. ~

tl1t1s cl1ar~gecl i11to self-co11sciot~SI1ess. Tl1is cl1ange is cltlc to a11 eyolutionalnecessit)-, ar1d tl1e Ulli,~ersal t;rge to\-rarcl ii1tellectcal I)Uf-sui ls is t1 ue to tL.is c--..-o~utiorlal ter1clci1c'r. Tl1e

aJ

S1)iiitual se]f. ic:e:: Li{:ecl '' itl1 ,-ariotls (tegrces ancl sorts of })odily t~:::1cl I11e11tal states, tries graduall~\- ancl 11aturally to retur11 to itself tl1rougl1 itself. Tl1e de,-elorn1e11t of tl1e COil-scious tl1ougl1t-I)I"Ocess is OilC of tl1e 111etl1ods \Vl1icl1 the S1)iritual self aclo1)ts 1o rise above tl1e tran1mels of })ocl-y a11cl n1i11cl. Tl1e eiTorl of tl1e S1Jiritual self to retur11 to itself-its lost conclitioi1-ll1rOtigll tl1e de,-elopmei.t t of tl1ougl1t-process is 11atural. This is tl1e })re-cess of tl1e '-rorld. Tl1e lJili\-ersal Spirit ex-presses itself i11 differe11t grades of cle,-elop-


ment, from lower to higl1er. In sto11e a11d earth there is no life or consciousness. In trees there is vegetative grovvtl1, an approach to life, yet no full-grown life and no consciotlS tl1ought-process at all. In animals there is life and also consciousness of life. In man-the culmination point-there is life, con- ~ sciousness of it, and also consciousness of the Self (i.e., Self-consciousness). Hence it is natural for man to develop himself through thinking and reasoning, by deep study of books, by original research work, and by la-borious investigations into causes and effects in the natural world. Tl1e more deeply a man engages in thought-processes, the more he can be said to be utilizing the method by which he has come to be 'vhat he is in the course of the world-evolution process (i.e., the method by which consciousness develops into Self-con-sciousness) and the nearer, kno,vingly or unknowingly, he approaches the Self. For in thought we rise above the body. The deliberate


following of this method will bring about sure results. Exercise of tl1ought in study, etc .. , solely for the acquireme11t of kno,vledge of a certain thi11g, tl1ougl1 to some extent inl-proving tl1e self-coilsciousness~ is not so effec-tive as tl1at tl1ougl1t-process \Yl1icl1 has as its sole object the transcending of the body and see-irtg the truth.

011e of the defects of this rnethod is tl1at it is a very slow process for tl1e Spiritt1al self to tl1us realize itself. It may iil\~o},-e a good deal of time. vVllile tile Spiritttal self begil1S to apprel1encl self-consciousness b)T tl1is 111etl1od, still it is al,vays e11gaged \Yitl1 a series of passing mental tl1ougl1ts \vitl1 "\Vl1icl1 it has no relatiort. Tra11quillit)~ of tl1e SJ)irit is sonle-thing beyond tl1ought or bodil-y se11sation, though 'vl1en once attained it o,-erflo,vs both.

II. DEv'"OTION.AL }lETHOD. Tl1is co11sists in fixi11g the attention of the Spiritt1al self on one object of tl1ougl1t, rather tl1a11 on different

68 TI-lE SCIENCE OF RELIGION

series of thoughts a11d on differe11t Stlbjects, as in tl1e i11tellectual n1ethod. Under tl1is metl1od are included all forms of 'vorship (such as prayer, fron~ which we must eliminate all thoughts of worldly things), or objects of revere11ce. Tl1e S1)iritual self must fiX its attention deeply on wl1atsoever it chooses to concentrate on. It may be any tl1ing that it likes. The Spiritual self may create a Person-al God, an Impersonal Omnipresent God, or any other thi11g. It must simply concentrate on one subject of thought in good earnest.

By this process the Spiritual self becon1es gradually freed from tl1e disturbances of vagra11t thoughts-the second series of dis-turbances-and gets time and opportunity to think itself in itself. vVhen we pray earn-estly, vve forget all bodily sensations and drive away all intruding thougl1ts tl1at try to engage our attention.

The deeper our prayer, the more intense is tl1e satisfaction felt, and this becomes the


crilerio11 ]),T 'vl1icl1 \Ye 111east1re llO\Y far '' e ...

have approacl1ed Bliss-Gocl. ~.\s tl1e })odii~~ sensatio11s are left lJel1ii1cl a11cl tl1e ,-agra11t thoug'l1ts are cl1eckecl, tl1e seperiority of tl1is O\ier tl1e foregoi11g n1etl1ocl ])eco111es n1a11ife~t.

Ho\Ye\-er, tl1is 111ethod !)resents certai11 clefects a11d clifficulties. O\-rir1g to tl1e loiJg-coiJtinuecl attacl1I11e11t a11cl sla,-er\- of the

..,

S1)iritual self to tl1e ])ocl-y-to ti1is cleep-rooted bad habit-it i11effectuall\;- tries to tur11 its

....

atte11tion a\Yay fro111 tl1e SI)llere of ])odily a11d me11tal se11satioi1s. Ho\YC\-er IlltiCll 011e 111av

&I

\Yisl1 to pray or engage i11 aiTY for111 of '' orsl1ip \Yitl1 one s 'Yl1ole l1cart, one s attc11tioi1 is

mercilessl~y i11,,.acled lTy tl1e raidi11g })odil-y sensations a11cl ,-agra11t thougl1ts brougl1t in by memory. l11 I)rayer 'Ye are often 'vlloll)-eilgrossed i11 tl1e coi1sicleration of tl1e circtiill-stances fa,-oralJle to it. or \Ye are too ready to renlo,-e any of our clistt1rlJir1g boclil-y discom-forts. In spite of all otrr co11Scious efforts our bad habit, 'vl1icl1 l1as ])ecome a second 11ature


to us, lords it over tl1e self's wishes. In spite of our 'vish, our mind becomes restless. ''Wherever your mind shall be there shall your heart be also," and "Pray God with all thy heart.'' Instead, we generally pray to God 'vith our mind and heart occupied with bodily and mental disturbances. Let us look for a more effective way by which our self's effort may be made easier and be more greatly helped.

III. MEDITATION METHOD. This and the next metl1od are purely scientific, in-volving a practical course of training, and are prescribed by great savants who have realized the truth personally in their own lives. I myself lear11ed them from one of these. There is nothing of mystery in them, or any-thing to be dreaded as l1armful. They are very easy, if one is properly acquainted with them. They will be fou11d to be universally true. Practicall)r-felt knowledge is the best proof of their validity and pragmatic utility.


By t111dergoing regt1larly tl1e processes of meditation till tl1ey become a l1abit, we can bring upon ourselves a state of conscious sleep. We generally experience tl1is calm and pleasurable tra11qt1il state just \Yl1er1 \Ye are falling into dee1J sleep a11d a1)proaching uncon-sciotisness, or rising fron1 iL ancl approacl1ing consciotlsness. In tl1is state of conscious sleep \Ye become free from all tl1ougl1ts and outer bodily sei1satio11S, a11d tl1e self gets time to tl1i11k of itself-it con1es i11to tl1e bliss-ful state from tiiile to tin1e, according to tl1e deptl1 and frequency of its practice of nled-itation. In tl1is state \Ye are utterly forgetful of and free fro111 alll)odil,~ a11d mental disturb-

~~~

ances \Yl1icl1 diYert tl1e self~s attention. Bv Ill

tl1is process of n1eclitation tl1e outer organs are COI1trollecl })~- tl1e coiltrolling of the voluntary ner,-es, as ir1 sleerJ.

But tl1e process of n1editation l1as also its drawbacks ar1d defects. B~,. tlus process, just as in sleep, 've lear11 to control only our outer


organs, tl1e only difference being tl1at in sleep the outer organs are at1tomatically controlled, 'vhile in meclitation, on the contrary, tl1e outer organs are volu11tarily controllecl. This pro-duces a state of "conscious sleep." The Spir-itual self the11 experie11ces this state of con-scious sleep, being contint1ally disturbed by the involuntary and internal organs, e.g., lungs, l1eart, and otl1er organs "\Vl1ich 've mistakenly suppose to be beyond control.* ~

We must lool~ for a lJetter method than this, for so long as the S1)iriLual self can not at will shut out all bodily sensations, even interior ones, which are the occasions of the rise of fhou,ght, })u L remains vulnerable to these disttrrbances, it can have no l1ope of final rest nor time or opportunity to know itself.

IV. ORGANIC, SCIENTIFIC METHOD. St. Paul said: "I die daily" (1 Cor. 15, 31). By

*We never knov:.r or learn ho\v to g1 ve rest to these Internal organs .. Because \Ve suppose them to be beyond control, they .get over\vorh.ed and suddenly stop, which stoppage \Ve term "Death," or the "Eternal or Great Sleep."

TI-IE SCIENCE OF RELIGION 73

tl1is l1e mea11t tl1at l1e kne'v tl1e process of controlling tl1e ir1ternal organs ancl cot1lcl ,-oltllltari],r free his Sririttlal self fron1 tl1e

"' ....

bocly ancl111ind, tl1e St.!(~de11 freecloin of \Yl1ich .. cltie to tl1e \Yeari:1g 011t of tl1is ?:ross bo~I,- a11c.~

v ~ "'

nli11cl, is tern1ecl death. ~ O\Y by t111clergoing a practical a11cl regt1lar cor:rse of trai11ing i11 Ll1is scie11tific 111etl1ocl tl1c self ca11 lJe felt as ])eing

u

separatecl fro111 tl1e bocly. I \Yill give 011I-y a ge11eral iclea of the })rocess

and tl1e true scier1tific theor,- on \Yl1icl1 it is t..

basecl. I set it clo\Yll l1cre fro111 n1,- O\YI1 ...

experience. I ca11 sa)'" it \Yill be four1cl to ])e u11iversally trtie. ...\11cl I ca12 also safel)' sa . .Y that Bliss, zvhich is, as l poinled out.. OllP

zlllin~ate end, is felt in intense degree i1L the act of practising this n1eihod. The p1 aclice of il is itself intensely Blissfu l-.far rnore purel)' Bliss-jzll, I ve11ture to say, than the arealesl e11jo.y-n1ent thaf any o.f our flee serises or the n1 incl con ever a (ford us. I do not \Yisl1 to gi,-e a1ry 011e an)- otl1er !)roof of its trt1tl1 than is a._Ctorded by


his own experience. Tl1e more one practises it with patience and duration, tl1e more one feels intensely a11d durably fixed in Bliss. Owing to the persistence of bad l1abits, the consciousness of bodily existence, witl1 all its memories, revives occasionally and fights against that tranquillity. If any one practises regularly and for extended periods, it can be guaranteed that in time l1e will find l1imself in a highly super-mental slate of Bliss. yv e should not, ho,vever,overwisely seek to imagine beforehand the possible results to wl1icl1 the process may lead, and then cease practising the method after a short trial.

In order to make real progress the following things are necessary: First, lovi11g attention to the subject to be learned; second, desire to learn and an earnest spirit of inquiry; third, steadfastness until the desired end is attained. If we go only half-way and then, after a short practice, reject it, the desired result will not follo\v. If novices in spiritual practices try to


pre-judge tl1e experie11ce of experts, tile)- v~ ill appear as ridiculous as a cl1ild "\Yl1o tries to imagine what post-gracluate stu

paramhansa yogananda - the-science-of-religion (126) ocr

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