great cycles, past and to come, this Self-luminous consciousness alone neither arises nor ever sets."1 But as regards all the things other than 'I,' that 'I'am conscious of, 'I'am or can become conscious also of their beginnings and endings, their changes. "Never has the cessation of consciousness been experienced, been witnessed directly; or if it has been, then the witness, the experiencer, himself still remains behind as the continued embodiment of that same consciousness." 2 Thus may we determine what the 'I' is. "Omnis determinatio est negatio." "All determination is negation" is a well-known and well-established law. We determine, define, delimit, recognise by change, by contrast, by means of opposites; so much so that even a physical sensation disappears entirely if endeavoured to be continued too long without change; thus we cease to feel the touch of the clothes we put on after a few minutes. And scrutinising closely, the enquirer will find that everything particular, limited,

मासाब्दयुगकल्पेषु गतागम्येष्यनेकधा ।
नोदेति नास्तमेत्येका संविदेषा स्वयंप्रभा ॥

2 Devi-Bhagavata. III. xxxii. 15—16.

संविदो व्यभिचारस्तुनानुभूतोऽस्ति कर्हिचित् ॥
यदि तस्याप्यनुभवस्तर्ह्ययं येन साक्षिणा ।
अनुभूतः स एवात्र शिष्टः संविद्वपुः स्वयम् ॥

changing, must be negated of the 'I'; and yet the 'I,' as proved by the direct cognition of all, cannot at all be denied altogether. It is indeed the very foundation of all existence. 'Existence,' 'being' (using the two words roughly as synonymous at this stage), means nothing more than ‘presence in our consciousness,' 'presence within the cognition of the I, of the Self, of me.' What a thing is, or may be, or must be, entirely apart from us, from the consciousness which is 'I,' of this we simply cannot speak. It may not be within our consciousness in detail and with its specifications, but generally, in some sort or other, it must be so within consciousness, if we are to speak of it at all.

The third step, the immortality of the ‘I,' necessarily follows from, is part of, the very nature of the ‘I.' What does not change, what is not anything limited, of which we know neither beginning nor end, that is necessarily immortal.

Let us dwell upon these considerations; let us pause on them till it is perfectly clear to us that our consciousness is the one witness to, the sole evidence and the only possible support and substratum of, all that we regard as real, of all our world. Let us make sure, further, that by eliminating the common factor 'our' from both sides of the equation, the proposition stands,

and stands confidently, that "consciousness is the only basis and support of the world." For how can we distinguish between 'our' consciousness and another's' consciousness, between 'our' world and another's' world? That another has a consciousness, that another has a world, that there is another at all, is still only 'our' consciousness. And as this holds true for every one, at every point, does it not follow that all these 'every ones' are only one, that all these 'our' consciousnesses are only one universal consciousness, which makes all this appearance of mutual intelligence and converse possible? for it is really only the one talking to itself in different guises. More may be said, later on, in dealing with consciousness from the standpoint of the final explanation of the world-process. In the meanwhile we need not be disturbed by any random statements that "thought (or the 'I'-consciousness) is the product of the brain as much as the bile is the product of the liver." If any earnest-minded student feel himself disturbed by any such, then let him ask himself and himself and the maker of the statement, by what laws of deductive or inductive logic is such statement justified? If there are many points in common between the liver and the brain, what similarity is there between bile and thought to justify an inference

as to the similarity of their causes? And, again, how do we know that such things as liver and bile and brain are? Because we see and feel them! But how are we sure that we see and feel? Do we see our eyes that see, and touch our hands that touch? Is it not that we are sure of our seeings and feelings, of our having the senses wherewith we do so, of our existence at all, only becanse we are conscious of such things? It is far easier to walk on the head comfortably without the aid of arms or legs, than to live and breathe and move and speak without the incessant presupposition that consciousness is behind and beyond and around everything. Argue as we may, we are always driven back, again and again, inexorably, to the position that consciousness is verily our all in all, the one thing of which we are absolutely sure, which cannot be explained away, and that the pure and universal Self, the one common 'I' of all creatures, is our last and only refuge.

Perhaps, in our long-practised love of the concrete, we like to tell ourselves that the 'I' is only a series of separate experiences, separate acts of consciousness. We have then only explained the more intelligible by the less intelligible. The separate experiences, the separate acts of consciousness, are intelligible only by presupposing a one continuous consciousness, a

D

self.

The acts or modifications are of and belong to the self, not the self to the former. Wherever we see unity, continuity, similarity, there we see the impress of the Self, the One. The concrete is held together only by the abstract. "The Self-born pierced the senses outwards, hence the Jîva seeth the outward (the concrete 'many' and), not the inner Self. One thinker, here and there, turneth his gaze inwards, desirous of immortality, and beholdeth the Pratyag-âtmâ (the abstract Self)." 1

We feel impatient, we exclaim: "What is this 'I' that is neither this nor that?" Let us define it, if we can, by any particular 'this' or 'that.' The whole of the world-process has been now endeavouring so to define it, for the whole past half of all time and by the whole half of all countless possible 'this's'; and it has not succeeded. It will go on similarly endeavouring to define it in the whole future half of all time and by the remaining half of endless possible ways; and it will not succeed.2

1 Katha. iv. I.

It

2 The full significance of this statement will appear later, when the distinction between eternity and time, true infinity and the mere boundlessness of space, totality and countlessness, kûṭastha-sattâ, 'rock-seated being,' and WAIÎEUTICAMI, anâdi-pravâha-sattâ, ' endless-flow existence'

is understood.