Critical Treatment of the Text of the Upanishads
With regard to a critical restoration of the text of the Upanishads,
I have but seldom relied on the authority of new MSS., but have
endeavoured throughout to follow that text which is presupposed by the
commentaries, whether they are the work of the old Sankarâkârya, or of
the more modern Sankarânanda, or Sâyana, or others. Though there still
prevails some uncertainty as to the date of Sankarâkârya, commonly
assigned to the eighth century A.D., yet I doubt whether any MSS. of
the Upanishads could now be found prior to 1000 A.D. The text,
therefore, which Sankara had before his eyes, or, it may be, his ears,
commands, I think, a higher authority than that of any MSS. likely to
be recovered at present.
It may be objected that Sankara's text belonged to one locality
only, and that different readings and different recensions may have
existed in other parts of India. That is perfectly true. We possess
various recensions of several Upanishads, as handed down in different
Sâkhâs of different Vedas, and we know of various readings recorded by
the commentators. These, where they are of importance for our purposes,
have been carefully taken into account.
It has also been supposed that Sankara, who, in writing his
commentaries on the Upanishad, was chiefly guided by philosophical
considerations, his chief object being to use the Upanishads as a
sacred foundation for the Vedânta philosophy, may now and then have
taken liberties with the text. That may be so, but no stringent proof
of it has as yet been brought forward, and I therefore hold that when
we succeed in establishing throughout that text which served as the
basis of Sankara's commentaries, we have done enough for the present,
and have fulfilled at all events the first and indispensable task in a
critical treatment of the text of the Upanishads.
But in the same manner as it is easy to see that the text of the
Rig-veda, which is presupposed by Sâyana's commentary and even by
earlier works, is in many places palpably corrupt, we cannot resist the
same conviction with regard to the text of the Upanishads. In some
cases the metre, in others grammar, in others again the collation of
analogous passages enable us to detect errors, and probably very
ancient errors, that had crept into the text long before Sankara
composed his commentaries.
Some questions connected with the metres of the Upanishads have been
very learnedly treated by Professor Gildemeister in his essalv, Zur
Theorie des Sloka. The lesson to be derived from that essay, and from
a study of the Upanishads, is certainly to abstain for the present from
conjectural emendations. In the old Upanishads the same metrical
freedom prevails as in the hymns; in the later Upanishads, much may be
tolerated as the result of conscious or unconscious imitation. The
metrical emendations that suggest themselves are generally so easy and
so obvious that, for that very reason, we should hesitate before
correcting what native scholars would have corrected long ago, if they
had thought that there was any real necessity for correction.
It is easy to suggest, for instance, that in the
Vâgasaneyisamhîtâ-upanishad, verse 5, instead of tad antar asya
sarvasya, tadu sarvasyâsya bâhyatah, the original text may have been
tad antar asya sarvasya tadu sarvasya bâhyatah; yet Sankara evidently
read sarvasyâsya, and as the same reading is found in the text of the
Vâgasaneyi-samhitâ, who would venture to correct so old a mistake?
Again, if in verse 8, we left out yâthâtathyatah, we should get a
much more regular metre,
Kavir manîshî paribhûh svyambhûh
arthân vyadahâk khâsvatîbhyah samâbhyah.
Here vyada forms one syllable by what I have proposed to call
synizesis[39], which is allowed in the Upanishads as well as in the
hymns. All would then seem right, except
that it is difficult to explain how so rare a word as yâthâtathyatah
could have been introduced into the text.
In verse 10 one feels tempted to propose the omission of eva in
anyad âhur avidyayâ, while in verse 11, an eva inserted after vidyâm ka
would certainly improve the metre.
In verse 15 the expression satyadharmâya drishtaye is archaic, but
perfectly legitimate in the sense of “that we may see the nature of the
True,” or “that we see him whose nature is true.” When this verse is
repeated in the Maitr. Up. VI, 35, we find instead, satyadharmâya
vishnave, “for the true Vishnu.” But here, again, no sound critic would
venture to correct a mistake, intentional or unintentional, which is
sanctioned both by the MSS. of the text and by the commentary.
Such instances, where every reader feels tempted at once to correct
the textus receptus, occur again and again, and when they seem of any
interest they have been mentioned in the notes. It may happen, however,
that the correction, though at first sight plausible, has to be
surrendered on more mature consideration. Thus in the
Vâgasaneyi-samhitâ-upanishad, verse 2, one feels certainly inclined to
write evam tve nânyatheto 'sti, instead of evam tvayi nânyatheto 'sti.
But tve, if it were used here, would probably itself have to be
pronounced dissyllabically, while tvayi, though it never occurs in the
Rig-veda, may well keep its place here, in the last book of the
Vâgasaneyisamhitâ, provided we pronounce it by synizesis, i.e. as one
syllable.
Attempts have been made sometimes to go beyond Sankara, and to
restore the text, as it ought to have been originally, but as it was no
longer in Sankara's time. It is one thing to decline to follow Sankara
in every one of his interpretations, it is quite another to decline to
accept the text which he interprets. The former is inevitable, the
latter is always very precarious.
Thus I see, for instance, that M. Regnaud, in the Errata to the
second volume of his excellent work on the Upanishads (Matériaux pour
servir à l'histoire de la philosophie de l'Inde, 1878) proposes to read
in the Brihad-âranyaka upanishad IV, 3, 1-8, sam anena vadishya iti,
instead of sa mene na vadishya iti. Sankara adopted the latter reading,
and explained accordingly, that Yâgñavalkya went to king Ganaka, but
made up his mind not to speak. M. Regnaud, reading sam anena vadishya
iti, takes the very opposite view, namely, that Yâgñavalkya went to
king Ganaka, having made up his mind to have a conversation with him.
As M. Regnaud does not rest this emendation on the authority of any new
MSS., we may examine it as an ingenious conjecture; but in that case it
seems to me clear that, if we adopted it, we should have at the same
time to omit the whole sentence which follows. Sankara saw clearly that
what had to be accounted or explained was why the king should address
the Brahman first, samrâd eva pûrvam paprakkha; whereas if Yâgñavalkya
had come with the intention of having a conversation with the king, he,
the Brahman, should have spoken first. This irregularity is explained
by the intervening sentence, in which we are reminded that on a former
occasion, when Ganaka and Yâgñavalkya had a disputation on the
Agnihotra, Yâgñavalkya granted Ganaka a boon to choose, and he chose as
his boon the right of asking questions according to his pleasure.
Having received that boon, Ganaka was at liberty to question
Yâgñavalkya, even though he did not like it, and hence Ganaka is
introduced here as the first to ask a question.
All this hangs well together, while if we assume that Yâgñavalkya
came for the purpose of having a conversation with Ganaka, the whole
sentence from “atha ha yag ganakas ka” to “pûrvam paprakkha” would be
useless, nor would there be any excuse for Ganaka beginning the
conversation, when Yâgñavalkya came himself on purpose to question him.
It is necessary, even when we feel obliged to reject an
interpretation of Sankara's, without at the same time altering the
text, to remember that Sankara, where he is not blinded by
philosophical predilections, commands the highest respect as an
interpreter. I cannot help thinking therefore that M. Regnaud (vol. i,
p. 59) was right in translating the passage in the Khând. Up. V, 3, 7,
tasmâd u sarveshu lokeshu kshattrasyaiva prasâsanam abhût, by “que le
kshatriya seul l'a enseignée dans tous les mondes.” For when he
proposes in the Errata to translate instead, “ç'est pourquoi l'empire
dans tous les mondes fut attribué au kshatriya seulement,” he forgets
that such an idea is foreign to the ordinary atmosphere in which the
Upanishads move. It is not on account of the philosophical knowledge
possessed by a few Kshatriyas, such as Ganaka or Pravâhana, that the
privilege of government belongs everywhere to the second class. That
rests on a totally different basis. Such exceptional knowledge, as is
displayed by a few kings, might be an excuse for their claiming the
privileges belonging to the Brahmans, but it would never, in the eyes
of the ancient Indian Aryas, be considered as an argument for their
claiming kingly power. Therefore, although I am well aware that prasâs
is most frequently used in the sense of ruling, I have no doubt that
Sankara likewise was fully aware of that, and that if he nevertheless
explained prasâsana here in the sense of prasâstritvam sishyânâm, he
did so because this meaning too was admissible, particularly here,
where we may actually translate it by proclaiming, while the other
meaning, that of ruling, would simply be impossible in the
concatenation of ideas, which is placed before us in the Upanishad.
It seems, no doubt, extremely strange that neither the last
redactors of the text of the Upanishads, nor the commentators, who
probably knew the principal Upanishads by heart, should have perceived
how certain passages in one Upanishad represented the same or nearly
the same text which is found in another Upanishad, only occasionally
with the most palpable corruptions.
Thus when the ceremony of offering a mantha or mash is described, we
read in the Khândogya-upanishad V, 2, 6, that it is to be accompanied
by certain words which on the whole are intelligible. But when the same
passage occurs again in the Brihad-âranyaka, those words have been
changed to such a degree, and in two different ways in the two Sâkhâs
of the Mâdhyandinas and Kânvas, that, though the commentator explains
them, they are almost unintelligible. I shall place the three passages
together in three parallel lines:
- Khândogya-upanishad V, 2, 6:
- Brihad-âranyaka, Mâdhyandina-sâkhâ, XIV, 9, 3, 10:
- Brihad-âranyaka-upanishad, Kânva-sâkhâ, VI, 3, 5:
- Amo nâmâsy amâ hi te sarvam idam sa hi gyeshthah
- Âmo 'sy âmam hi te mayi sa hi
- âmamsy âmamhi te mahi sa hi
- sreshtho râgâdhipatih sa mâ gyaishthyam srai-
- râgesâno 'dhipatih sa mâ râgesâno
- râgesâno
- shthyam râgyam âdhipatyam gamayatv aham evedam
- 'dhipatim karotv iti.
- 'dhipatim karotv iti.
The text in the Khândogya-upanishad yields a certain sense, viz.
“Thou art Ama by name, for all this together exists in thee. He is the
oldest and best, the king, the sovereign. May he make me the oldest,
the best, the king, the sovereign. May I be all this.” This, according
to the commentator, is addressed to Prâna, and Ama, though a purely
artificial word, is used in the sense of Prâna, or breath, in another
passage also, viz. Brihad-âranyaka-up. I, 3, 22. If therefore we accept
this meaning of Ama, the rest is easy and intelligible.
But if we proceed to the Brihad-âranyaka, in the Mâdhyandina-sâkhâ,
we find the commentator proposing the following interpretation: “O
Mantha, thou art a full knower, complete knowledge of me belongs to
thee.” This meaning is obtained by deriving âmah from â+man, in the
sense of knower, and then taking âmam, as a neuter, in the sense of
knowledge, derivations which are simply impossible.
Lastly, if we come to the text of the Kânva-sâkhâ, the grammatical
interpretation becomes bolder still. Sankara does not explain the
passage at all, which is strange, but Anandagiri interprets âmamsi tvam
by “Thou knowest (all),” and âmamhi te mahi, by “we know thy great
(shape),” which are again impossible forms.
But although there can be little doubt here that the reading of the
Khândogya-upanishad gives us the original text, or a text nearest to
the original, no sound critic would venture to correct the readings of
the Brihad-âranyaka. They are corruptions, but even as corruptions they
possess authority, at all events up to a certain point, and it is the
fixing of those certain points or cbronological limits, which alone can
impart a scientific character to our criticism of ancient texts.
In the Kaushîtaki-brâhmana-upanishad Professor Cowell has pointed
out a passage to me, where we must go beyond the text as it stood when
commented on by the Sankarânanda. In the beginning of the fourth
adhyâya all MSS. of the text read savasan, and this is the reading
which the commentator seems anxious to explain, though not very
successfully. I thought that possibly the commentator might have had
before him the reading savasan, or so 'vasan, but both would be very
unusual. Professor Cowell in his Various Readings, p. xii, conjectured
samvasan, which would be liable to the same objection. He now, however,
informs me that, as B. has samtvan, and C. satvan, he believes the
original text to have been Satvan-Matsyeshu. This seems to me quite
convincing, and is borne out by the reading of the Berlin MS., so far
as it can be made out from Professor Weber's essay on the Upanishads,
Indische Studien I, p.419. I see that Boehtlingk and Roth in their
Sanskrit Dictionary, s.v. satvat, suggest the same emendation.
The more we study the nature of Sanskrit MSS., the more, I believe,
we shall feel convinced that their proper arrangement is one by
locality rather than by time. I have frequently dwelt on this subject
in the introductions to the successive volumes of my edition of the
Rig-veda and its commentary by Sâyanâkârya, and my convictions on this
point have become stronger ever since. A MS., however modern, from the
south of India or from the north, is more important as a check on the
textus receptus of any Sanskrit work, as prevalent in Bengal or Bombay,
than ever so many MSS., even if of greater antiquity, from the same
locality. When therefore I was informed by my friend Dr. Bühler that he
had discovered in Kashmir a MS. of the Aitareya-upanishad, I certainly
expected some real help from such a treasure. The MS. is described by
its discoverer in the last number of the journal of the Bombay Asiatic
Society, p.34[40], and has since been sent to me by the Indian
Government. It is written on birch bark (bhûrga), and in the alphabet
commonly called Sâradâ. The leaves are very much injured on the margin
and it is almost impossible to handle them without some injury. In many
places the bark has shrunk, probably on being moistened, and the
letters have become illegible. Apart from these drawbacks, there remain
the difficulties inherent in the Sâradâ alphabet which, owing to its
numerous combinations, is extremely difficult to read, and very trying
to eyes which are growing weak. However, I collated the Upanishad from
the Aitareya-âranyaka, which turned out to be the last portion only,
viz. the Samhitâ-upanishad (Ait. Âr. 111, 1-2), or, as it is called
here, Samhitâranya, and I am sorry to say my expectations have been
disappointed. The MS. shows certain graphic peculiarities which Dr.
Bühler has pointed out. It is particularly careful in the use of the
sibilants, replacing the Visarga by sibilants, writing s + s and s
+ s instead of h + s and h + s;
distinguishing also the Gihvâmûlîya and Upadhmanîya. If therefore the
MS. writes antastha, we may be sure that it really meant to write so,
and not antahstha, or, as it would have written, antasstha. It shows
equal care in the use of the nasals, and generally carries on the
sandhi between different paragraphs. Here and there I met with better
readings than those given in Rajendralal Mitra's edition, but in most
cases the commentary would have been sufficient to restore the right
reading. A few various readings, which seemed to deserve being
mentioned, will be found
in the notes. The MS., though carefully written, is not free from
the ordinary blunders. At first one feels inclined to attribute some
importance to every peculiarity of a new MS., but very soon one finds
out that what seems peculiar, is in reality carelessness. Thus Ait. Âr.
III, I, 5, 2, the Kashmir MS. has pûrvam aksharam rûpam, instead of
what alone can be right, pûrvarûpam. Instead of pragayâ pasubhih it
writes repeatedly pragaya pasubhih, which is impossible. In III, 2, 2,
it leaves out again and again manomaya between khandomaya and vânmaya;
but that this is a mere accident we learn later on, where in the same
sentence manomayo, is found in its right place. Such cases reduce this
MS. to its proper level, and make us look with suspicion on any
accidental variations, such as I have noticed in my translation.
The additional paragraph, noticed by Dr. Bühler, is very indistinct,
and contains, so far as I am able to find out, sânti verses only.
I have no doubt that the discovery of new MSS. of the Upanishads and
their commentaries will throw new light on the very numerous
difficulties with which a translator of the Upanishads, particularly in
attempting a complete and faithful translation, has at present to
grapple. Some of the difficulties, which existed thirty years ago, have
been removed since by the general progress of Vedic scholarship, and by
the editions of texts and commentaries and translations of Upanishads,
many of which were known at that time in manuscript only. But I fully
agree with M. Regnaud as to the difficultés considérables que les
meilleures traductions laissent subsister, and which can be solved only
by a continued study of the Upanishads, the Âranyakas, the Brâhmanas,
and the Vedânta-sûtras.