necessarily conditioned by their ignorance of natural phenomena. In
fact, an irreducible inconsistency marred their view of the world. For
while their Pantheism should have taught them to think of a universal
life or energy as working within all things, their theological habit of
mind bound them to the incongruous notion of devils or deities moulding,
or at least ruling, matter from without. And, indeed, the nearest
approach they made to the more genuine Pantheism of modern times was the
conception of a world emanating from and projected outside Brahma, to be
re-merged in him after the lapse of ages. Now, if I am right in my
definition of Pantheism as absolutely identifying God with the
Universe,[3] so that, in fact, there cannot be anything but God, the
inconsistency here noted must be regarded as fatal to the genuineness of
the Indian or indeed of any other ancient Pantheism. For the defect
proved during many centuries to be incurable, and was not indeed fully
removed until Spinoza's time.

[Sidenote: 3. Absence of Definite Creeds.]

3. Another difference between ancient Pantheists and ourselves was the
absence in their case of any religious creed, sanctioned by supernatural
authority and embodied in a definite form, like that of the three
Anglican creeds, or the Westminster Confession of Faith. Not that those
ancients supposed themselves to be without a revelation. For the Vedas,
at least, were considered to be of divine authority, and their words,
metres, and grammar were regarded with a superstitious awe, such as
reminds us of what has been called the "bibliolatry" of the Jewish
Rabbis. But subject to this verbal veneration, the Rishis, or learned
divines, used the utmost freedom in regard to the forced and fanciful
interpretations extorted from the sacred text, a freedom which again
reminds us of the paradoxical caprice shown by some schools of Jewish