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moreover, refer in different places to certain Vedantic portions of the Mahâbhârata, especially the twelfth book, several of which represent forms of Vedânta distinctly differing from Sankara's teaching, and closely related to the system of the Bhagavatas.
INTRODUCTION.
Facts of this nature-from entering into the details of which we are prevented by want of space-tend to mitigate the primâ facie strangeness of the assumption that the Vedanta-sûtras, which occupy an intermediate position between the Upanishads and Sankara, should yet diverge in their teaching from both. The Vedânta of Gaudapâda and Sankara would in that case mark a strictly orthodox reaction against all combinations of non-Vedic elements of belief and doctrine with the teaching of the Upanishads. But although this form of doctrine has ever since Sankara's time been the one most generally accepted by Brahminic students of philosophy, it has never had any wide-reaching influence on the masses of India. It is too little in sympathy with the wants of the human heart, which, after all, are not so very different in India from what they are elsewhere. Comparatively few, even in India, are those who rejoice in the idea of a universal non-personal essence in which their own individuality is to be merged and lost for ever, who think it sweet 'to be wrecked on the ocean of the Infinite. The only forms of Vedântic philosophy which are and can at any time have been-really popular, are those in which the Brahman of the Upanishads has somehow transformed itself into a being, between which and the devotee there can exist a personal relation, love and faith on the part of man, justice tempered by mercy on the part of the divinity. The only religious books of widespread influence are such as the Râmâyan of Tulsidâs, which lay no stress on the distinction between an absolute Brahman inaccessible to all human wants and sympathies, and a shadowy Lord whose very conception depends on the illusory principle of Mâyâ, but love to dwell on the delights of devotion
1
Così tra questa Immensità s'annega il pensier mio,
E il naufrago m' è dolce in questo mare.
LEOPARDI.
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