The Complete Works of Swami Vivekananda/Volume 2/Jnana-Yoga/Maya and Illusion
CHAPTER III
MAYA AND ILLUSION
( Delivered in London )
Almost all of you have heard of the word Mâyâ. Generally it is used, though
incorrectly, to denote illusion, or delusion, or some such thing. But the
theory of Maya forms one of the pillars upon which the Vedanta rests; it is,
therefore, necessary that it should be properly understood. I ask a little
patience of you, for there is a great danger of its being misunderstood. The
oldest idea of Maya that we find in Vedic literature is the sense of
delusion; but then the real theory had not been reached. We find such
passages as, "Indra through his Maya assumed various forms." Here it is true
the word Maya means something like magic, and we find various other
passages, always taking the same meaning. The word Maya then dropped out of
sight altogether. But in the meantime the idea was developing. Later, the
question was raised: "Why can't we know this secret of the universe?" And
the answer given was very significant: "Because we talk in vain, and because
we are satisfied with the things of the senses, and because we are running
after desires; therefore, we, as it were, cover the Reality with a mist."
Here the word Maya is not used at all, but we get the idea that the cause of
our ignorance is a kind of mist that has come between us and the Truth. Much
later on, in one of the latest Upanishads, we find the word Maya
reappearing, but this time, a transformation has taken place in it, and a
mass of new meaning has attached itself to the word. Theories had been
propounded and repeated, others had been taken up, until at last the idea of
Maya became fixed. We read in the Shvetâshvatara Upanishad, "Know nature to
be Maya and the Ruler of this Maya is the Lord Himself." Coming to our
philosophers, we find that this word Maya has been manipulated in various
fashions, until we come to the great Shankarâchârya. The theory of Maya was
manipulated a little by the Buddhists too, but in the hands of the Buddhists
it became very much like what is called Idealism, and that is the meaning
that is now generally given to the word Maya. When the Hindu says the world
is Maya, at once people get the idea that the world is an illusion. This
interpretation has some basis, as coming through the Buddhistic
philosophers, because there was one section of philosophers who did not
believe in the external world at all. But the Maya of the Vedanta, in its
last developed form, is neither Idealism nor Realism, nor is it a theory. It
is a simple statement of facts — what we are and what we see around us.
As I have told you before, the minds of the people from whom the Vedas came
were intent upon following principles, discovering principles. They had no
time to work upon details or to wait for them; they wanted to go deep into
the heart of things. Something beyond was calling them, as it were, and they
could not wait. Scattered through the Upanishads, we find that the details
of subjects which we now call modern sciences are often very erroneous, but,
at the same time, their principles are correct. For instance, the idea of
ether, which is one of the latest theories of modern science, is to be found
in our ancient literature in forms much more developed than is the modern
scientific theory of ether today, but it was in principle. When they tried
to demonstrate the workings of that principle, they made many mistakes. The
theory of the all-pervading life principle, of which all life in this
universe is but a differing manifestation, was understood in Vedic times; it
is found in the Brâhmanas. There is a long hymn in the Samhitâs in praise of
Prâna of which all life is but a manifestation. By the by, it may interest
some of you to know that there are theories in the Vedic philosophy about
the origin of life on this earth very similar to those which have been
advanced by some modern European scientists. You, of course, all know that
there is a theory that life came from other planets. It is a settled
doctrine with some Vedic philosophers that life comes in this way from the
moon.
Coming to the principles, we find these Vedic thinkers very courageous and
wonderfully bold in propounding large and generalised theories. Their
solution of the mystery of the universe, from the external world, was as
satisfactory as it could be. The detailed workings of modern science do not
bring the question one step nearer to solution, because the principles have
failed. If the theory of ether failed in ancient times to give a solution of
the mystery of the universe, working out the details of that ether theory
would not bring us much nearer to the truth. If the theory of all-pervading
life failed as a theory of this universe, it would not mean anything more if
worked out in detail, for the details do not change the principle of the
universe. What I mean is that in their inquiry into the principle, the Hindu
thinkers were as bold, and in some cases, much bolder than the moderns. They
made some of the grandest generalizations that have yet been reached, and
some still remain as theories, which modern science has yet to get even as
theories. For instance, they not only arrived at the ether theory, but went
beyond and classified mind also as a still more rarefied ether. Beyond that
again, they found a still more rarefied ether. Yet that was no solution, it
did not solve the problem. No amount of knowledge of the external world
could solve the problem. "But", says the scientist, "we are just beginning
to know a little: wait a few thousand years and we shall get the solution."
"No," says the Vedantist, for he has proved beyond all doubt that the mind
is limited, that it cannot go beyond certain limits — beyond time, space,
and causation. As no man can jump out of his own self, so no man can go
beyond the limits that have been put upon him by the laws of time and space.
Every attempt to solve the laws of causation, time, and space would be
futile, because the very attempt would have to be made by taking for granted
the existence of these three. What does the statement of the existence of
the world mean, then? "This world has no existence." What is meant by that?
It means that it has no absolute existence. It exists only in relation to my
mind, to your mind, and to the mind of everyone else. We see this world with
the five senses but if we had another sense, we would see in it something
more. If we had yet another sense, it would appear as something still
different. It has, therefore, no real existence; it has no unchangeable,
immovable, infinite existence. Nor can it be called non-existence, seeing
that it exists, and we slave to work in and through it. It is a mixture of
existence and non-existence.
Coming from abstractions to the common, everyday details of our lives, we
find that our whole life is a contradiction, a mixture of existence and
non-existence. There is this contradiction in knowledge. It seems that man
can know everything, if he only wants to know; but before he has gone a few
steps, he finds an adamantine wall which he cannot pass. All his work is in
a circle, and he cannot go beyond that circle. The problems which are
nearest and dearest to him are impelling him on and calling, day and night,
for a solution, but he cannot solve them, because he cannot go beyond his
intellect. And yet that desire is implanted strongly in him. Still we know
that the only good is to be obtained by controlling and checking it. With
every breath, every impulse of our heart asks us to be selfish. At the same
time, there is some power beyond us which says that it is unselfishness
alone which is good. Every child is a born optimist; he dreams golden
dreams. In youth he becomes still more optimistic. It is hard for a young
man to believe that there is such a thing as death, such a thing as defeat
or degradation. Old age comes, and life is a mass of ruins. Dreams have
vanished into the air, and the man becomes a pessimist. Thus we go from one
extreme to another, buffeted by nature, without knowing where we are going.
It reminds me of a celebrated song in the Lalita Vistara, the biography of
Buddha. Buddha was born, says the book, as the saviour of mankind, but he
forgot himself in the luxuries of his palace. Some angels came and sang a
song to rouse him. And the burden of the whole song is that we are floating
down the river of life which is continually changing with no stop and no
rest. So are our lives, going on and on without knowing any rest. What are
we to do? The man who has enough to eat and drink is an optimist, and he
avoids all mention of misery, for it frightens him. Tell not to him of the
sorrows and the sufferings of the world; go to him and tell that it is all
good. "Yes, I am safe," says he. "Look at me! I have a nice house to live
in. I do not fear cold and hunger; therefore do not bring these horrible
pictures before me." But, on the other hand, there are others dying of cold
and hunger. If you go and teach them that it is all good, they will not hear
you. How can they wish others to be happy when they are miserable? Thus we
are oscillating between optimism and pessimism.
Then, there is the tremendous fact of death. The whole world is going
towards death; everything dies. All our progress, our vanities, our reforms,
our luxuries, our wealth, our knowledge, have that one end — death. That is
all that is certain. Cities come and go, empires rise and fall, planets
break into pieces and crumble into dust, to be blown about by the
atmospheres of other planets. Thus it has been going on from time without
beginning. Death is the end of everything. Death is the end of life, of
beauty, of wealth, of power, of virtue too. Saints die and sinners die,
kings die and beggars die. They are all going to death, and yet this
tremendous clinging on to life exists. Somehow, we do not know why, we cling
to life; we cannot give it up. And this is Maya.
The mother is nursing a child with great care; all her soul, her life, is in
that child. The child grows, becomes a man, and perchance becomes a
blackguard and a brute, kicks her and beats her every day; and yet the
mother clings to the child; and when her reason awakes, she covers it up
with the idea of love. She little thinks that it is not love, that it is
something which has got hold of her nerves, which she cannot shake off;
however she may try, she cannot shake off the bondage she is in. And this is
Maya.
We are all after the Golden Fleece. Every one of us thinks that this will be
his. Every reasonable man sees that his chance is, perhaps, one in twenty
millions, yet everyone struggles for it. And this is Maya.
Death is stalking day and night over this earth of ours, but at the same
time we think we shall live eternally. A question was once asked of King
Yudhishthira, "What is the most wonderful thing on this earth?" And the king
replied, "Every day people are dying around us, and yet men think they will
never die." And this is Maya.
These tremendous contradictions in our intellect, in our knowledge, yea, in
all the facts of our life face us on all sides. A reformer arises and wants
to remedy the evils that are existing in a certain nation; and before they
have been remedied, a thousand other evils arise in another place. It is
like an old house that is falling; you patch it up in one place and the ruin
extends to another. In India, our reformers cry and preach against the evils
of enforced widowhood. In the West, non-marriage is the great evil. Help the
unmarried on one side; they are suffering. Help the widows on the other;
they are suffering. It is like chronic rheumatism: you drive from the head,
and it goes to the body; you drive it from there, and it goes to the feet.
Reformers arise and preach that learning, wealth, and culture should not be
in the hands of a select few; and they do their best to make them accessible
to all. These may bring more happiness to some, but, perhaps, as culture
comes, physical happiness lessens. The knowledge of happiness brings the
knowledge of unhappiness. Which way then shall we go? The least amount of
material prosperity that we enjoy is causing the same amount of misery
elsewhere. This is the law. The young, perhaps, do not see it clearly, but
those who have lived long enough and those who have struggled enough will
understand it. And this is Maya. These things are going on, day and night,
and to find a solution of this problem is impossible. Why should it be so?
It is impossible to answer this, because the question cannot be logically
formulated. There is neither how nor why in fact; we only know that it is
and that we cannot help it. Even to grasp it, to draw an exact image of it
in our own mind, is beyond our power. How can we solve it then?
Maya is a statement of the fact of this universe, of how it is going on.
People generally get frightened when these things are told to them. But bold
we must be. Hiding facts is not the way to find a remedy. As you all know, a
hare hunted by dogs puts its head down and thinks itself safe; so, when we
run into optimism; we do just like the hare, but that is no remedy. There
are objections against this, but you may remark that they are generally from
people who possess many of the good things of life. In this country
(England) it is very difficult to become a pessimist. Everyone tells me how
wonderfully the world is going on, how progressive; but what he himself is,
is his own world. Old questions arise: Christianity must be the only true
religion of the world because Christian nations are prosperous! But that
assertion contradicts itself, because the prosperity of the Christian nation
depends on the misfortune of non-Christian nations. There must be some to
prey on. Suppose the whole world were to become Christian, then the
Christian nations would become poor, because there would be no non-Christian
nations for them to prey upon. Thus the argument kills itself. Animals are
living upon plants, men upon animals and, worst of all, upon one another,
the strong upon the weak. This is going on everywhere. And this is Maya.
What solution do you find for this? We hear every day many explanations, and
are told that in the long run all will be good. Taking it for granted that
this is possible, why should there be this diabolical way of doing good? Why
cannot good be done through good, instead of through these diabolical
methods? The descendants of the human beings of today will be happy; but why
must there be all this suffering now? There is no solution. This is Maya.
Again, we often hear that it is one of the features of evolution that it
eliminates evil, and this evil being continually eliminated from the world,
at last only good will remain. That is very nice to hear, and it panders to
the vanity of those who have enough of this world's goods, who have not a
hard struggle to face every clay and are not being crushed under the wheel
of this so-called evolution. It is very good and comforting indeed to such
fortunate ones. The common herd may surfer, but they do not care; let them
die, they are of no consequence. Very good, yet this argument is fallacious
from beginning to end. It takes for granted, in the first place, that
manifested good and evil in this world are two absolute realities. In the
second place, it make, at still worse assumption that the amount of good is
an increasing quantity and the amount of evil is a decreasing quantity. So,
if evil is being eliminated in this way by what they call evolution, there
will come a time when all this evil will be eliminated and what remains will
be all good. Very easy to say, but can it be proved that evil is a lessening
quantity? Take, for instance, the man who lives in a forest, who does not
know how to cultivate the mind, cannot read a book, has not heard of such a
thing as writing. If he is severely wounded, he is soon all right again;
while we die if we get a scratch. Machines are making things cheap, making
for progress and evolution, but millions are crushed, that one may become
rich; while one becomes rich, thousands at the same time become poorer and
poorer, and whole masses of human beings are made slaves. That way it is
going on. The animal man lives in the senses. If he does not get enough to
eat, he is miserable; or if something happens to his body, he is miserable.
In the senses both his misery and his happiness begin and end. As soon as
this man progresses, as soon as his horizon of happiness increases, his
horizon of unhappiness increases proportionately. The man in the forest does
not know what it is to be jealous, to be in the law courts, to pay taxes, to
be blamed by society, to be ruled over day and night by the most tremendous
tyranny that human diabolism ever invented, which pries into the secrets of
every human heart. He does not know how man becomes a thousand times more
diabolical than any other animal, with all his vain knowledge and with all
his pride. Thus it is that, as we emerge out of the senses, we develop
higher powers of enjoyment, and at the same time we have to develop higher
powers of suffering too. The nerves become finer and capable off more
suffering. In every society, we often find that the ignorant, common man,
when abused, does not feel much, but he feels a good thrashing. But the
gentleman cannot bear a single word of abuse; he has become so finely
nerved. Misery has increased with his susceptibility to happiness. This does
not go much to prove the evolutionist's case. As we increase our power to be
happy, we also increase our power to suffer, and sometimes I am inclined to
think that if we increase our power to become happy in arithmetical
progression, we shall increase, on the other hand, our power to become
miserable in geometrical progression. We who are progressing know that the
more we progress, the more avenues are opened to pain as well as to
pleasure. And this is Maya.
Thus we find that Maya is not a theory for the explanation of the world; it
is simply a statement of facts as they exist, that the very basis of our
being is contradiction, that everywhere we have to move through this
tremendous contradiction, that wherever there is good, there must also be
evil, and wherever there is evil, there must be some good, wherever there is
life, death must follow as its shadow, and everyone who smiles will have to
weep, and vice versa. Nor can this state of things be remedied. We may
verily imagine that there will be a place where there will be only good and
no evil, where we shall only smile and never weep. This is impossible in the
very nature of things; for the conditions will remain the same. Wherever
there is the power of producing a smile in us, there lurks the power of
producing tears. Wherever there is the power of producing happiness, there
lurks somewhere the power of making us miserable.
Thus the Vedanta philosophy is neither optimistic nor pessimistic. It voices
both these views and takes things as they are. It admits that this world is
a mixture of good and evil, happiness and misery, and that to increase the
one, one must of necessity increase the other. There will never be a
perfectly good or bad world, because the very idea is a contradiction in
terms. The great secret revealed by this analysis is that good and bad are
not two cut-and-dried, separate existences. There is not one thing in this
world of ours which you can label as good and good alone, and there is not
one thing in the universe which you can label as bad and bad alone. The very
same phenomenon which is appearing to be good now, may appear to be bad
tomorrow. The same thing which is producing misery in one, may produce
happiness in another. The fire that burns the child, may cook a good meal
for a starving man. The same nerves that carry the sensations of misery
carry also the sensations of happiness. The only way to stop evil,
therefore, is to stop good also; there is no other way. To stop death, we
shall have to stop life also. Life without death and happiness without
misery are contradictions, and neither can be found alone, because each of
them is but a different manifestation of the same thing. What I thought to
be good yesterday, I do not think to be good now. When I look back upon my
life and see what were my ideals at different times, I final this to be so.
At one time my ideal was to drive a strong pair of horses; at another time I
thought, if I could make a certain kind of sweetmeat, I should be perfectly
happy; later I imagined that I should be entirely satisfied if I had a wife
and children and plenty of money. Today I laugh at all these ideals as mere
childish nonsense.
The Vedanta says, there must come a time when we shall look back and laugh
at the ideals which make us afraid of giving up our individuality. Each one
of us wants to keep this body for an indefinite time, thinking we shall be
very happy, but there will come a time when we shall laugh at this idea.
Now, if such be the truth, we are in a state of hopeless contradiction —
neither existence nor non-existence, neither misery nor happiness, but a
mixture of them. What, then, is the use of Vedanta and all other
philosophies and religions? And, above all, what is the use of doing good
work? This is a question that comes to the mind. If it is true that you
cannot do good without doing evil, and whenever you try to create happiness
there will always be misery, people will ask you, "What is the use of doing
good?" The answer is in the first place, that we must work for lessening
misery, for that is the only way to make ourselves happy. Every one of us
finds it out sooner or later in our lives. The bright ones find it out a
little earlier, and the dull ones a little later. The dull ones pay very
dearly for the discovery and the bright ones less dearly. In the second
place, we must do our part, because that is the only way of getting out of
this life of contradiction. Both the forces of good and evil will keep the
universe alive for us, until we awake from our dreams and give up this
building of mud pies. That lesson we shall have to learn, and it will take a
long, long time to learn it.
Attempts have been made in Germany to build a system of philosophy on the
basis that the Infinite has become the finite. Such attempts are also made
in England. And the analysis of the position of these philosophers is this,
that the Infinite is trying to express itself in this universe, and that
there will come a time when the Infinite will succeed in doing so. It is all
very well, and we have used the words Infinite and manifestation and
expression, and so on, but philosophers naturally ask for a logical
fundamental basis for the statement that the finite can fully express the
Infinite. The Absolute and the Infinite can become this universe only by
limitation. Everything must be limited that comes through the senses, or
through the mind, or through the intellect; and for the limited to be the
unlimited is simply absurd and can never be. The Vedanta, on the other hand,
says that it is true that the Absolute or the Infinite is trying to express
itself in the finite, but there will come a time when it will find that it
is impossible, and it will then have to beat a retreat, and this beating a
retreat means renunciation which is the real beginning of religion. Nowadays
it is very hard even to talk of renunciation. It was said of me in America
that I was a man who came out of a land that had been dead and buried for
five thousand years, and talked of renunciation. So says, perhaps, the
English philosopher. Yet it is true that that is the only path to religion.
Renounce and give up. What did Christ say? "He that loseth his life for my
sake shall find it." Again and again did he preach renunciation as the only
way to perfection. There comes a time when the mind awakes from this long
and dreary dream — the child gives up its play and wants to go back to its
mother. It finds the truth of the statement, "Desire is never satisfied by
the enjoyment of desires, it only increases the more, as fire, when butter
is poured upon it."
This is true of all sense-enjoyments, of all intellectual enjoyments, and of
all the enjoyments of which the human mind is capable. They are nothing,
they are within Maya, within this network beyond which we cannot go. We may
run therein through infinite time and find no end, and whenever we struggle
to get a little enjoyment, a mass of misery falls upon us. How awful is
this! And when I think of it, I cannot but consider that this theory of
Maya, this statement that it is all Maya, is the best and only explanation.
What an amount of misery there is in this world; and if you travel among
various nations you will find that one nation attempts to cure its evils by
one means, and another by another. The very same evil has been taken up by
various races, and attempts have been made in various ways to check it, yet
no nation has succeeded. If it has been minimised at one point, a mass of
evil has been crowded at another point. Thus it goes. The Hindus, to keep up
a high standard of chastity in the race, have sanctioned child-marriage,
which in the long run has degraded the race. At the same time, I cannot deny
that this child-marriage makes the race more chaste. What would you have? If
you want the nation to be more chaste, you weaken men and women physically
by child-marriage. On the other hand, are you in England any better off? No,
because chastity is the life of a nation. Do you not find in history that
the first death-sign of a nation has been unchastity? When that has entered,
the end of the race is in sight. Where shall we get a solution of these
miseries then? If parents select husbands and wives for their children, then
this evil is minimised. The daughters of India are more practical than
sentimental. But very little of poetry remains in their lives. Again, if
people select their own husbands and wives, that does not seem to bring much
happiness. The Indian woman is generally very happy; there are not many
cases of quarrelling between husband and wife. On the other hand in the
United States, where the greatest liberty obtains, the number of unhappy
homes and marriages is large. Unhappiness is here, there, and everywhere.
What does it show? That, after all, not much happiness has been gained by
all these ideals. We all struggle for happiness and as soon as we get a
little happiness on one side, on the other side there comes unhappiness.
Shall we not work to do good then? Yes, with more zest than ever, but what
this knowledge will do for us is to break down our fanaticism. The
Englishman will no more be a fanatic and curse the Hindu. He will learn to
respect the customs of different nations. There will be less of fanaticism
and more of real work. Fanatics cannot work, they waste three-fourths of
their energy. It is the level-headed, calm, practical man who works. So, the
power to work will increase from this idea. Knowing that this is the state
of things, there will be more patience. The sight of misery or of evil will
not be able to throw us off our balance and make us run after shadows.
Therefore, patience will come to us, knowing that the world will have to go
on in its own way. If, for instance, all men have become good, the animals
will have in the meantime evolved into men, and will have to pass through
the same state, and so with the plants. But only one thing is certain; the
mighty river is rushing towards the ocean, and all the drops that constitute
the stream will in time be drawn into that boundless ocean. So, in this
life, with all its miseries and sorrows, its joys and smiles and tears, one
thing is certain, that all things are rushing towards their goal, and it: is
only a question of time when you and I, and plants and animals, and every
particles of life that exists must reach the Infinite Ocean of Perfection,
must attain to Freedom, to God.
Let me repeat, once more, that the Vedantic position is neither pessimism
nor optimism. It does not say that this world is all evil or all good. It
says that our evil is of no less value than our good, and our good of no
more value than our evil. They are bound together. This is the world, and
knowing this, you work with patience. What for? Why should we work? If this
is the state of things, what shall we do? Why not become agnostics? The
modern agnostics also know there is no solution of this problem, no getting
out of this evil of Maya, as we say in our language; therefore they tell us
to be satisfied and enjoy life. Here, again, is a mistake, a tremendous
mistake, a most illogical mistake. And it is this. What do you mean by life?
Do you mean only the life of the senses? In this, every one of us differs
only slightly from the brutes. I am sure that no one is present here whose
life is only in the senses. Then, this present life means something more
than that. Our feelings, thoughts, and aspirations are all part and parcel
of our life; and is not the struggle towards the area, ideal, towards
perfection, one of the most important components of what we call life?
According to the agnostics, we must enjoy life as it is. But this life
means, above all, this search after the ideal; the essence of life is going
towards perfection. We must have that, and, therefore, we cannot be
agnostics or take the world as it appears. The agnostic position takes this
life, minus the ideal component, to be all that exists. And this, the
agnostic claims, cannot be reached, therefore he must give up the search.
This is what is called Maya — this nature, this universe.
All religions are more or less attempts to get beyond nature — the crudest
or the most developed, expressed through mythology or symbology, stories of
gods, angels or demons, or through stories of saints or seers, great men or
prophets, or through the abstractions of philosophy — all have that one
object, all are trying to get beyond these limitations. In one word, they
are all struggling towards freedom. Man feels, consciously or unconsciously,
that he is bound; he is not what he wants to be. It was taught to him at the
very moment he began to look around. That very instant he learnt that he was
bound, and be also found that there was something in him which wanted to fly
beyond, where the body could not follow, but which was as yet chained down
by this limitation. Even in the lowest of religious ideas, where departed
ancestors and other spirits — mostly violent and cruel, lurking about the
houses of their friends, fond of bloodshed and strong drink — are
worshipped, even there we find that one common factor, that of freedom. The
man who wants to worship the gods sees in them, above all things, greater
freedom than in himself. If a door is closed, he thinks the gods can get
through it, and that walls have no limitations for them. This idea of
freedom increases until it comes to the ideal of a Personal God, of which
the central concept is that He is a Being beyond the limitation of nature,
of Maya. I see before me, as it were, that in some of those forest retreats
this question is being, discussed by those ancient sages of India; and in
one of them, where even the oldest and the holiest fail to reach the
solutions a young man stands up in the midst of them, and declares, "Hear,
ye children of immortality, hear, who live in the highest places, I have
found the way. By knowing Him who is beyond darkness we can go beyond
death."
This Maya is everywhere. It is terrible. Yet we have to work through it. The
man who says that he will work when the world has become all good and then
he will enjoy bliss is as likely to succeed as the man who sits beside the
Ganga and says, "I will ford the river when all the water has run into the
ocean." The way is not with Maya, but against it. This is another fact to
learn. We are not born as helpers of nature, but competitors with nature. We
are its bond-masters, but we bind ourselves down. Why is this house here?
Nature did not build it. Nature says, go and live in the forest. Man says, I
will build a house and fight with nature, and he does so. The whole history
of humanity is a continuous fight against the so-called laws of nature, and
man gains in the end. Coming to the internal world, there too the same fight
is going on, this fight between the animal man and the spiritual man,
between light and darkness; and here too man becomes victorious. He, as it
were, cuts his way out of nature to freedom.
We see, then, that beyond this Maya the Vedantic philosophers find something
which is not bound by Maya; and if we can get there, we shall not be bound
by Maya. This idea is in some form or other the common property of all
religions. But, with the Vedanta, it is only the beginning of religion and
not the end. The idea of a Personal God, the Ruler and Creator of this
universe, as He has been styled, the Ruler of Maya, or nature, is not the
end of these Vedantic ideas; it is only the beginning. The idea grows and
grows until the Vedantist finds that He who, he thought, was standing
outside, is he himself and is in reality within. He is the one who is free,
but who through limitation thought he was bound.