One guaranteeing it." 39 Rather precisely from the description of these supramundane faculties which accrue the nearer we come to Nibbāna, and thereby to "Nothingness," will be, not without right, derive a fresh hint that behind this seeming Nothing, the true and real is hidden.**

C. THE MEANS OF CONCENTRATION

In the foregoing we saw that the concentration of the mind, or the concentrated intuitive activity of cognition, is the heart of the Buddha's path of deliverance. It alone leads to intuitive knowledge, and thereby to the annihilation of our thirst for the world, hence to deliverance. Precisely to it, therefore, the whole path leads. But because so very much depends on it, even everything, for this reason the Buddha repeatedly sets forth in more or less formal fashion the mode of procedure for the development and cultivation of the faculty of concentrated contemplation. To understand these means, we must remind ourselves again of the following facts.

Our cognition by its nature is entirely at the service of thirst. Consequently it is at once entirely occupied by every motion of the latter, so that, like a searchlight sweeping a section of country, at almost every moment it is turned upon another object, whether this object is immediately made

* As to this expression, see Majj. Nik. I, p. 245: "That is true which is real, Nibbānam.”

+ From the foregoing expositions it will be seen that the essence of the Absorptions, from the first of them up to the higher knowledge, consists in sober heedfulness carried to its ultimate in intuitive insight. Compare, besides other passages, Angutt. Nik. I, p. 40: "But he overcomes them and understands: I know, I see.'" Accordingly, there is nothing more perverse than to translate jbānā by "ecstasies" or "raptures." Such conceptions mean, on the contrary, states wherein man abandons himself without restraint to the feelings that well up in him, so that clarity of understanding is obscured and the freedom of the will circumscribed.

accessible through the outer senses, or consists in one of the motions of thought incessantly rising within us. It can also be said that our cognition in its usual activity resembles the light in a lantern that in the darkness of night is by its owner directed at every moment towards some other object, in order to find his way and for no other purpose, thus, not at all that he may inspect things more closely. As little as this traveller obtains a real insight into the things upon which his light falls, just as little can cognition in its normal mode of action gain a real insight into what enters, or is brought within, its range. If this insight is to be attained, cognition must rather rest upon the object concerned with the utmost possible persistency and keenness; in fact, it must be concentrated upon it.*

Now this power of concentration, like everything else in the world, is gained by exercise. Thereby it is clear that this exercise can not only be cultivated by the usual activity

* Be it noted that in this lies the reason for the oft occuring repetitions in the Dialogues which he only will blame to whom the spirit of the latter has not become clear.

If we wish to do away with a false appearance deluding our eyes, for instance, when at night a curiously shaped tree-stump mimics a muffled form, this is only possible by fixing our gaze long enough and acutely enough upon the object which gives rise to the false appearance, until the reality appears. Thus must we also, for long, and ever and again, regard everything in reference to its three characteristics, "transitory, causing suffering, and not-the-1," until the opposite transcendental appearance, in consequence of which "we mistake ourselves for the cognizable," that is, for the five groups of our personality, disappears. But this is what the Discourses of the Buddha are meant to effect; therefore they always again and again, from the most varied points of view, direct, and must direct our gaze towards this transcendental appearance. Whoever finds this monotonous, has not yet even the barest idea of the problem of this transcendental appearance, and of the importance of annihilating this appearance along with which all other problems are disposed of. Because a false appearance, even a false transcendental appearance has to be got rid of, it is therefore not enough to go through the present work once or twice, and then to put it away for always, for the right thoughts given us by it all too soon again would be extinguished by that tendency to "wrong thinking," which dwells within us (comp. above, p. 441). But by daily directing our thinking for years towards insight into the three characteristics, we must force it to take this way, whereupon in like measure this transcendental appearance will disappear.

of the senses, but also specially trained by concentrating the attention upon a definite object with no other purpose than this, to become accustomed to collected thought. Because we thus make the struggle against the main hindrance to all concentrated mental activity, namely absent-mindedness, our only and self-determined aim, this method of procedure will soonest lead to the goal through our giving our will for insight, in time, complete supremacy and thereby full mastery over the other motions of will that still arise within us and seek to bring it into their service. Thus this training finally leads us to being able at will to maintain an attitude of pure cognition with regard to any object whatsoever. Therefore it is not to be wondered at-rather is it the contrary that would appear curious-that the Buddha has incorporated this special training for the strengthening of the will for insight, and thereby for insight itself, into the Path of salvation devised by him. And this he has done in a threefold mode.

First, we have to exercise ourselves in looking with the mind so long and so intently at a given object, for instance a tree, that at last it completely fills our direct ocular cognition; and in this contemplation of the object we come to perfect rest, all our remaining motions of will thereby becoming allayed. If we succeed in doing this, then we proceed to exercise our cognising activity also in this direction, so that together with its intensity, its extension also increases through the "mono-idea-izing" of our cognition by means of intuitive representations of ever more extensive objects. Because in this way the pure cognizing activity becomes more and more independent of all impulsive willing and more fixed in itself, thus, its freedom from all hindrances ever greater, therefore the result of this training is called "a grand deliverance of the mind." Indeed we must have attained a considerable degree of freedom of willing, especially of will to cognise,

if we have our will so far in our power that we are able to remain for hours or even for days in deepest contemplation of a represented object, moreover one of large extension.

"But what, householder, is grand deliverance of the mind? There, householder, a monk has conceived a single tree as 'grand,' and becomes stilled thereby.... Then, householder, a monk has conceived two or three trees as 'grand' and becomes stilled thereby... There, householder, a monk has conceived a single meadow as 'grand' and becomes stilled thereby... There again, householder, a monk has conceived two or three meadows as 'grand' and becomes stilled thereby.... There, householder, a monk has conceived a single kingdom as 'grand' and becomes stilled thereby. There again, householder, a monk has conceived two or three kingdoms as 'grand' and becomes stilled thereby ... There again, householder, a monk has conceived the earth girdled by the ocean as 'grand' and becomes stilled thereby. This, householder, is called 'grand deliverance of the mind."" 392

It is clear that with a cognitive power, developed in this manner, it can no longer be so very difficult to penetrate the machinery of personality to the bottom and thus to realize the vision of Anattā. But further, it also becomes clear that this training leads in the easiest manner to the Absorptions right up to their highest point, to the higher knowledge, and thereby to unrestricted, arbitrary domination of all the processes of our personality. Of course, if this is attained to, then the training must be pursued still further, as it is more closely described especially in the 128th Discourse of the Majjhima-Nikaya. There the Buddha describes, how he himself on this path reached the culminating point of concentration. After he had reached a certain measure of inner collectedness, there arose before his spiritual eye a splendour, and forms. But concentration was not yet

sufficiently intensive to retain those appearances. "Then, Anuruddha, I thought: 'What may be the cause, what the reason, why the splendour disappears from me, and the view of the forms?' Then, Anuruddha, I said to myself: 'I have become uncertain; uncertainty has been the cause why my concentration was destroyed. And because my concentration was destroyed, therefore the splendour vanished, and the view of the forms. Therefore I will now direct my efforts towards no longer falling into uncertainty. And now, Anuruddha, while I dwelt earnest-minded, eager and unwearied, again I perceived a splendour and a view of forms." But they again vanish. The Bodhisatta* again seeks the cause of this, and finds it in his having become inattentive. He labours towards no longer falling into uncertainty and inattention. In this he succeeds. The splendour and the forms again appear, but only to disappear again soon. As the new cause of this he discovers that he had become dull and languid, and now labours towards no longer becoming uncertain nor inattentive, nor dull and languid. Nevertheless, it is again the old game: the splendour and the forms appear again and again, but he is not able to hold them fast. But the Bodhisatta remains unshakeable in his energy, ascertains each time the cause of the breaking up of his concentration, and finds out, one after the other, that he had become horrified, enchanted, clumsy, too much strained, that he had become too slack, too careless, then, that he had fallen into absent-mindedness, lastly, that he had looked too sharply at the forms. One disturbance after the other he gets rid of, until he perceives "a certain splendour", and obtains a "view of certain forms, and an immeasurable view, and a view of immeasurable forms, through a whole night, through a whole day." But he is not yet satisfied with this. He also wants

* A being endowed with wisdom, a name given to the Buddha before his complete awakening.