Chapter III.

HINDUISM AND CHRISTIANITY CONTRASTED.

In the previous chapter I have endeavoured to show and emphasize the

teachings common to Christianity and Hinduism.

But it must not be forgotten that if their consonances are neither few nor

unimportant their dissonances are far more numerous and fundamental. They

meet us at almost every point of our investigation and impress us with a

sense of a vast contrast.

We will now give ourselves to a brief study of these divergences.

The two faiths differ essentially.

1. In their Initial Conceptions.

Their starting points are almost antipodal. This will seem evident when we

study their views:

(_a_) In reference to religion itself. Christianity is briefly and

beautifully explained by its Founder (Luke 15) as a divine method of

seeking and saving the lost. It is the expression of the Father’s love

yearning for the return, and seeking the complete salvation, of the son.

It is primarily and pervasively a “Thus saith the Lord”—a revelation from

God manward. Hinduism on the other hand has been the embodiment of man’s

aspirations after God. Wonderfully pathetic, beautiful and elevating these

aspirations have been at times; and doubtless guided at points by Him whom

they so ardently sought. They perhaps represent the highest reach of the

soul in its self-propelled flight towards its Maker. It is true that

orthodox Hindus variously describe the Vedas as eternal, as a direct

emanation from Brahma and as a divine entity in themselves. They

constitute the “Sruti”—“the directly heard” message of God to man. But the

authors of the Upanishads, which are a part of _Sruti_, absolve man from

the necessity of accepting the four Vedas and propound a way of salvation

entirely separate from, and independent of, vedic prayers and ritual. The

direct influence of the Vedas upon religious life and ritual in India

today is practically _nil_; while that of the Upanishads, which are the

_fons et origo_ of the all-potent philosophy, is felt in every Hindu life,

however humble.

This aspect of the two faiths is not unexpected when we remember:

(_b_) Their very dissimilar conceptions of God. The monotheism of the one

and the pantheism of the other are clear and uncompromising. They have

stood for many centuries as representatives, to the world, of these very

dissimilar beliefs. Christianity inherited from Judaism its passion for

monotheism, and brings the “God of Israel” very near to our race as the

infinitely loving Father. It has not only emphasized His personality but

reveals, with incomparable power and tenderness, His supreme interest in

our race and His loving purpose concerning it.

On the other hand Hinduism derived its highest wisdom and deepest

convictions concerning the Divine Being from the ancient rishis through

the Upanishads. There they accepted, once for all, the doctrine of the

Brahm (neuter)—the one passionless, immovable, unsearchable, ineffable

Being who, without a second, stands as the source and embodiment of all

real being.

Barth truly remarks that “this is the most imposing and subtle of the

systems of ontology yet known in the history of philosophy.” This

inscrutable Being is the only _real_ existence, all else being illusion

projected by ignorance. This doctrine of identity or nonduality

(_advaitha_) lies at the foundation of all their religious thinking. This

Being which is devoid of qualities (_nirguna_), because incomprehensible

to man, can be of no comfort to him. In this respect the Hindu is an

agnostic of a profound type.

For this mystical philosophy one word of praise is eminently due. It is

not to be confounded with that species of Western pantheism which is rank

materialism—making God and the material universe convertible terms. Sir

William Jones emphasized this difference—the difference between a system

which, in all that it sees, sees God alone, and that which acknowledges no

God beyond what it sees. One is the bulwark of materialism; the other its

most uncompromising enemy. Whatever the defects of this philosophy of the

Upanishads it must be confessed to be deeply spiritual.

And yet in this very effort to conserve the spiritual and transcendental

character of Brâhm the Aryan sage has covered Him with the dark robe of

mysticism and pushed Him into a far off realm beyond human ken.

So that the only intimations which man has of Him are confessedly false

projection of ignorance. For all practical purposes this hypothetical

deity—for the very existence of Brâhm is only assumed as a working

hypothesis by the theosophist—is a nonentity to the worshipper. How can a

being lend itself to a devout soul in worship when it is rigidly devoid of

every quality that can inspire or attract the soul? This very fact has led

the ordinary Hindu to seek and develop something else as an object of his

devotion. Hence the polytheism of Brahmanism. Let it not be supposed that

there is any antagonism between their pantheism and their polytheism. One

is the natural offspring of the other. The numberless gods which today are

supposed to preside over the destiny of the people, are but emanations,

the so-called “play” of Brâhm. Properly speaking they are neither supreme

nor possessed of truly divine attributes. Even the Hindu Triad—Brahma

(masculine gender), Vishnu and Siva—are but manifestations of the delight

of the eternal Soul to invest itself with qualities (_guna_). These three

gods are no more real existences than are the myriad other children of

illusion (_maya_) and ignorance (_avidya_) which constitute the universe.

And as they had their existence, so will they find their dissolution, in

the fiat of the Supreme Soul. India finds polytheism no more satisfying

than it does pantheism. There is no more assurance of comfort in

worshipping 330,000,000 gods, whose multitude not only bewilders but also

carries in itself refutation to the claim of any one to be supreme, than

there is in the yearning after an absolute, ineffable Being which cruelly

evades human thought and definition. It is no wonder therefore that the

growth of the Hindu pantheon is constant, and both follows, and bears

testimony to, the craving of the human soul for a God who can satisfy its

wants and realize its deepest longings.

(_c_) Their theories of the universe are also divergent. According to the

Bible the outer world is the creation, by God, out of nothing. To the

Brahman of all times the idea of pure creation has seemed absurd. _Ex

nihilo nihil fit_ is an axiom of all their philosophies. Whether it be the

Vedantin who tells us that the material universe is the result of Brâhm

invested with illusion, or the Sankya philosopher who attributes it to

_prakriti_—the power of nature; or the Veisashika sage who traces it to

eternal atoms; they all practically posit that it is eternal.

Of course the Christian doctrine of creation from nothing does not, as the

Hindu too often assumes, maintain that the universe is a result without a

cause; for it teaches that God Himself, by the exercise of His sovereign

will and omnipotence, is an all-adequate cause to all created things.

If the Vedantin claims that creation is impossible, how can he at the same

time believe that ideas have from time to time sprung up in the mind of

Brâhm, which ideas themselves have put on illusion and appear to human

ignorance as the universe? It is, to say the least, no easier for him,

with his conception of Brâhm, to account for the origin of such ideas than

it is for the Christian to trace the source of the material universe to an

all-wise and omnipotent God. Nor does the Sankya philosopher, by

practically denying God and positing the eternal existence of souls and

_prakriti_, remove half the difficulties that he creates.

(_d_) Again, the teachings of the two faiths concerning man are no less

divergent. In the Bible man is represented as a son of God. He is fallen

indeed, but with a trace, even in his degradation, of his Father’s

lineaments. We follow him in his willful rebellion against his Father; he

plunges into the lowest depths of sin. But we still recognise in him the

promise of infinite and eternal possibilities of spiritual expansion and

happiness. Indeed we find at work a divinely benevolent scheme through

which he is to be ultimately exalted to heavenly places in Christ Jesus

and made the heir of infinite bliss.

On the other hand, Hindu Shastras represent man as mere illusion—the poor

plaything of the absolute One. For man to assume and to declare his own

real existence is, they say, but the raving of his ignorance (_avidya_).

To the practical Western mind it seems almost impossible that a

philosopher should be so lost in his philosophy as to aver that he, the

thinker and father of his philosophy, has no _real_ existence—is only

illusion, concerning which real existence can only be assumed for

practical purposes. What must be said of the philosophy begotten by such

an illusive being? Shall it not also be doomed to vanish with him into the

nothingness whence he came and which he now really is, if he only knew it?

Sir Monier Williams aptly remarks,—“Common sense tells an Englishman that

he really exists himself and that everything he sees around him really

exists also. He cannot abandon these two primary convictions. Not so the

Hindu Vedantist. Dualism is his bugbear, and common sense, when it

maintains any kind of real duality, either the separate independent

existence of a man’s own spirit and of God’s spirit, or of spirit and

matter, is guilty of gross deception.”

Another conception regards the human soul (_jivatma_) as a part of the

Supreme Soul. This theory adds small comfort or dignity to it when we

remember that this whole of which it is declared a part is an intangible,

unattractive Being—devoid of all qualities (_nirguna_). If the soul

existed from eternity as a part of the divine Soul and will ultimately

resume that interrupted existence, what value, ethical or otherwise, can

be attached to that bondage of manhood which was thrust upon the soul (or

was it voluntarily assumed?)? This part of deity called individual soul

certainly cannot be improved by its human conditions; and the question is

not—“How soon can I pass through this slough of despond,” but, “why was I

thrust into it at all? Was it a mere sacred whim (_tiruvileiadal_) of

Brâhm?”

Moreover this view of human “self,” or soul, carries one out too far into

the sea of transcendental metaphysics to be of any practical use,

religiously. We know something of man—this strange compound of soul and

body—and we are deeply interested in his history and destiny; the more

deeply because we are included in this category.

But who knows of the eternal soul—that part of the absolute—separate from

human conditions and apart from all experiences of men? Is it not simply

the dream of the philosopher, a convenient assumption to satisfy the needs

of an impractical ontology? To magnify the soul apart from human life, and

to interpret human life as the self’s lowest degradation and something

which is to be shaken off as quickly as possible, can hardly be sound

philosophy, and is certainly bad theology. It simply reduces this life

into an irremedial evil, with no moral significance or spiritual value.

This leads us to the second point of contrast:—

2. Their Ultimate Aim or Goal.

What do these two religions promise to do for those who embrace them? The

work which Christianity proposes to itself is difficult and glorious. It

takes fallen, sin-sodden, man and leads him out into a new life of

holiness; it opens out to him a long and broad vista of life with an

ever-enlarging, blissful, activity. Christ said that He came into the

world that men might have life and have it abundantly. He came not only to

save the lost but also to develop all the grand possibilities of the soul

to their utmost, and to launch the human bark upon a voyage of everlasting

life, which means unceasing growth in all its noblest qualities,

activities and enjoyments.

Hindu philosophy and faith, on the other hand, unite in commanding that

human endowments be starved, qualities suppressed, activity of all kinds

stayed, ambition and every other desire, even the noblest and purest,

quenched. All the essential elements of life itself are to be mortified

that the soul may, unhampered by its own entanglement, reach that

consummation which is supposed to be final. And what is it? Who can tell?

The Aryan philosopher himself stands mute in its presence. All that we can

predicate of it is not life and happiness, according to any standard of

human experience known or imagined. The idea that the individual soul will

finally sink into and blend with the Absolute Being as a drop of water

returns to and mingles with its mother ocean may seem plausible to the

philosopher; but of such an hypothetical existence we know absolutely

nothing and can expect nothing that would inspire hope and kindle

ambition.

In Hinduism there are heavens many and not a few hells. But unlike the

places of reward and punishment connected with Christianity, they

represent nothing final. They are more like the purgatory of the

Catholics, and represent only steps in the progress of the soul towards

emancipation.

Concerning the general view of human life, its import and outcome, the two

faiths are antipodal. Christianity is brightly optimistic. The future of

every Christian is to be as the sun shining more and more until the

perfect day. Unceasing progress and eternal expansion are held out before

him. His is an heritage that will abide and will resound in an ever

increasing anthem of praise throughout time and eternity. Nothing can

occur hereafter to rob him of that crown of glory which is the gift of God

and which is to result in likeness to Him.

Hinduism, on the other hand, is essentially pessimistic. It teaches that

human life is totally and irremediably evil. Every power of the soul must

be exercised in the endeavour to shake off this terrible burden of

separate human existence and escape all the conditions of this life. That

is the only relief possible. To the Hindu the question so often discussed

in Christian lands—“Is life worth living?”—has no interest, since it has

but one answer possible. And even if the Indian sage forgets his present

conditions and pessimism long enough to gaze down the long and dismal

vista of numberless births to the final consummation (_Sayujya_)—the final

union with God—he finds in that nothing which the Christian does not

discover in tenfold richness and beauty in the Bible. To be partaker of

the Divine Nature is a blessed reality to the Christian without his

forfeiting, in the least, the dignity of self-identity and the glory of

separate personal consciousness. To have the “life hid with Christ in

God”; to be able triumphantly to exclaim—“I live; yet not I, but Christ

liveth in me”; to experience the blessedness and power of abiding in

Christ and to realize the answer to Christ’s own prayer to the

Father—“that they also may be in us”—all this is the joy and hope of the

Christian in a manner and to a degree utterly impossible to the Hindu

whose union with the supreme spirit is the loss and end of self, including

all those faculties which are capable of enjoyment.

Looking from another standpoint, we perceive that the aim of the religion

of Christ is the banishing of sin from the life and the establishing of

character. Sin is the dark background of Christianity. It explains its

origin and reveals its universality. Its whole concern is with the

emancipation of man from the presence and power of sin. To the Vedantin,

on the other hand, sin, in the Christian sense of it, is an impossibility.

Where God is all and all is God there can be no separate will to

antagonize the divine will. Monism necessarily, in the last analysis,

carries every act and motive back to the supreme Will and establishes an

all-inclusive necessitarianism which is fatal to human freedom; and it

therefore excludes sin as an act of rebellion against God. Much is made of

sin, so called, in the Hindu system, as we shall presently see; but

nowhere is more care needed than here that we may distinguish between

ideas conveyed by this word in these two faiths. In Christianity the

ethical character of sin is emphasized. It is described as a thing of

moral obliquity and spiritual darkness. According to the Upanishads the

only defect of man is an intellectual one. He is in bondage to ignorance.

Plato made ignorance the chief source of moral evil and proposed

philosophy as a remedy for the malady. The Vedantin differs from the Greek

philosopher only in his more absolute condemnation of (_avidya_) ignorance

as the mother of all human ills. Remove this—let a man attain unto a true

knowledge of self, of the fact that he has no _real_ separate existence

and is one with the Supreme Soul—and he becomes thereby qualified for his

emancipation and ends his long cycle of births. Moreover, in the

polytheism of the Puranas and in the laws and customs of Manu sin

generally means only ceremonial defilement and the violation of customs

and usages.

Hinduism, therefore, has never addressed itself to the task of helping man

as a _sinner_—of regenerating his heart, of establishing within him that

beautiful thing known in Christian lands and philosophies as a well

rounded, symmetrical and perfect character. For many reasons and in many

ways it has aimed at a very different consummation in man from that

consistently sought by Christ and His religion.

3. The Agency and Means Recognized and Appealed to by those Faiths

Respectively.

By what power and instrumentality are the above ends to be sought and

attained? They will be, doubtless, quite as divergent as the aims

themselves were found to be.

In Christianity God Himself is the agent who works out its scheme of

salvation. He entered, through infinite condescension, into human life and

relations in the Incarnation. He wrought, in the days of His flesh, the

redemption of our race—a work which finds its climax in His atoning death.

In the person of the Holy Spirit He is working and bringing to full

fruition, in the hearts and lives of men, the redemption which He wrought.

Into this, man enters not as an efficient cause of his own redemption. He

cannot atone for his past, nor has he the assurance within himself for the

future. Hence the atoning sacrifice of Christ and the indwelling of the

Spirit of God which becomes in him a source of peace, of power and of

hope. Yet, in this divine work, man is neither passive nor apathetic. In

the exercise of saving faith he not only appropriates the works and gifts

of God but also enters into full and active harmony and coöperation with

God in his own regeneration and salvation. So that the Apostle Paul aptly

urges the Philippian Christians (Phil. 2:12) to “work out your own

salvation with fear and trembling; for it is God which worketh in you both

to will and to work for His good pleasure.”

How different is the picture presented to us by the Hindu Shastras of the

means of human redemption—a picture, however, consonant with the aims

which they have set before themselves to accomplish for man. The first and

all-present fact of this faith is the terrible loneliness and isolation of

man in the great struggle of life. His destiny is in his own hands, and he

must fight single-handed against a thousand odds in the awful battle for

emancipation.

_Karma_ is the word used to express this thought which has possessed the

Hindu mind from the earliest days to the present. This word may be

translated “works,” and means the acts by which the soul determines its

own destiny. In Vedic times the all-powerful works were sacrifice and

ritual. In the Upanishads they are meditation and self-mortification.

Today they are ceremonial, with works of charity, self-renunciation or

religious mendicancy generally added.

In pre-Buddhistic days sacrifice abounded in Brahmanism; and it grew to

such proportions that the revolt headed by Gautama and incarnated in

Buddhism became universal. But vicariousness was largely wanting as an

element in, and as a cause of, their sacrifices. They were rather offered

with a view to nourish the gods and as a means of acquiring power. He who

sacrificed a hundred horses was said to gain thereby even larger power

than Indra himself possessed—a power which enabled him to dethrone this

god of the heavens. Such was the power said to inhere in sacrifice that

the gods themselves combined to prevent men from the practice lest they

should rise to larger power than themselves! With the triumph and

subsequent absorption of Buddhism into Brahmanism the latter abandoned its

sacrifices and accepted the Buddhistic emphasis upon _Karma_, and doomed

every soul to the tread-mill of its own destiny. To every human word, deed

or thought, however insignificant, there is fruit which must be eaten by

the soul.

It is claimed for this doctrine that it well emphasizes the conservation

of moral force. Christianity also conserves, to the last, moral force; not

however by insisting upon man bearing himself the whole burden, but by

enabling him to cast the burden upon the Lord who graciously offers to

bear the load of human guilt belonging to every soul.

Another word in India which is synonymous with large power and merit is

_Yoga_. It is inculcated in the _Yoga_ philosophy and is supposed to stand

for a high mental discipline which speedily qualifies one for absorption

into the Deity. It is manifested in the form of abstract meditation and

austerity—an austerity embodied in asceticism and self-mortification. From

early times this method has been held high in honour, and today is

universally esteemed as the most powerful and speedy boat wherewith to

cross the sullen stream of human existence. The grand object of _Yoga_ is

to teach how to concentrate the mind—an object based upon the idea that

the great and sole need of man is not moral and spiritual regeneration,

but more light, _i.e._, a clear, intellectual apprehension of things. Not

only is this basis of philosophy false in supposing that such intellectual

gymnastics can finally exalt and save a soul, it is also radically

defective in its general rules and practical results. No one who has

studied the childish rules which are prescribed to the Yogis, or has

observed in India many of even the better type of Yogis can fail to be

impressed with the degradation to mind and morals which is indissolubly

connected with it. Barth’s observation on the processes of _Yoga_ is

eminently true. “Conscientiously observed,” he says, “they can only issue

in folly and idiocy; and it is, in fact, under the image of a fool or an

idiot that the wise man is often delineated for us in the _Puranas_ for

instance.”(9)

Meditation upon the Divine Being and upon self is a supreme duty

inculcated by Christianity. Here God is a Personality upon whom the mind

can be centred and find rest and exaltation. The self also is conceived as

a being with a separate and infinitely high destiny marked out before it.

Concentrated thought, deep emotion and lofty purpose, in view of these

objects, is supremely profitable. But what is there left worthy of thought

for the Vedantist _Yogi_ when the Divine Being is the unknowable and the

Yogi himself the deluded child of (_Maya_) illusion and (_avidya_)

ignorance—those twin enemies to all true and worthy knowledge? It cannot

be elevating to detach the mind from things worldly and attach it to

nothing!

Incarnation, as we have seen above, has in later times become a popular

doctrine in India. The _avatars_ (“descents”) of members of the Hindu

pantheon, especially of Vishnu, the second member of the Triad, wield a

large influence in the religious life of the masses. Yet the doctrines

should, by no means, be regarded as identical or even similar in Hinduism

and Christianity. It should be remembered that in Hinduism it is believed

and magnified by those who also hold the law of _Karma_ as supreme. There

is hardly a Vaishnavite and Krishnaolater who does not believe firmly that

his destiny is writ large upon his forehead—that nothing that this or any

god may do can affect his _adrishta_ which is that felt but unseen power

working out the _Karma vivaka_, or fruition of works, done by him in

former births. This belief directly antagonizes incarnation from the

Christian standpoint, where it appears as God’s mighty instrument of grace

to man. Not so from the Hindu standpoint. The incarnations of Vishnu are

referred to in their _Shastras_ “as consequences of deeds which the god

himself had performed. One was the fruit of sins he had committed; another

of a curse which had been pronounced upon him.” And yet they are doubtless

frequently referred to as undertaken with a view to benefit and help our

race. If such was their intention it is difficult to see how that benefit

could be any other than racial and temporary; for there is no intimation

in any of them of its being a means for the spiritual uplifting, or moral

regeneration, of one human soul.

There is no finality of blessing supposed to be in any Hindu incarnation;

and it would be sacrilege to compare the character of any one of them with

the wonderful incarnation of Jesus. It is not so much that many of them

appear as fish, fowl and beast, and as such are devoid of moral aim and

efficiency; not a few are immoral, some of them, like Krishna,

representing the worst type of sensuality and moral obliquity. Such

examples, in the popular mythology of the land, have done, and are doing,

inexpressible harm to the people and the country. “Like God like people”;

and when the god is highly popular and conspicuously immoral the result

will be correspondingly great.

In connection with the doctrine of _avatar_ has arisen the well-known

_bhakti marga_—“the way of faith.” Many believe that the latter was the

source of the former and that both were affected by Christian teaching. In

any case they are closely connected. Among many this way of love and

devotion to individual gods has gained preëminence over the other two ways

of salvation—knowledge (_gnana marga_) and works (_Karma-marga_)—though it

should not be forgotten that _bhakti_ itself is regarded as a work of

merit and is by no means synonymous with Christian faith. Yet it must be

confessed, as we have seen above, that Hinduism comes nearer, at this

point than at any other, to touching the religion of Jesus.

The blindness of this faith is also a serious objection to it. To the

_bhaktan_ “faith is the great thing.” It matters not how hideous, morally

and spiritually, the object of faith may be, _bhakti_ will triumphantly

vindicate itself in the ultimate salvation of the soul. “Repose faith in

the idols, in ceremonial observances, in ascetic performances, in all that

you religiously do, and blessing will rest upon you.” This is the

_bhaktan’s_ creed; it is essentially the teaching of the “Divine

Song”—Bhagavad-Gita. And it is this which has so powerfully helped the

moral and spiritual degeneracy of India during the past few centuries. Men

have attached themselves absolutely to gods whose mythology, detailed in

the _Puranas_ and _Tantras_, is a narrative of lust and of moral

crookedness, devotion to which can mean only moral contamination and

spiritual death. Such a faith, in its nature and results, can only be

contrasted with a loving devotion to the incomparably holy and lovely

Jesus.

4. The Processes of These Two Religions.

In other words we inquire, in what manner do they propose to attain unto

their respective ends?

Christianity brings man into the new, divine life through the narrow gate

of a new birth. He stands justified before God and, under the influence of

the Holy Spirit, he begins that course of spiritual development which

steadily progresses towards perfection in truth and holiness. He,

“beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord is changed into the same

image from glory to glory even as by the spirit of the Lord.” And in the

fullness of his acquired, or divinely bestowed, powers he passes through

the gate of death, once for all, to enter upon the full glories of eternal

life beyond.

In Hinduism _metempsychosis_ is the great process. “As the embodied soul,”

says the Bhagavad-Gita, “moves swiftly on through boyhood, youth and age,

so will it pass through other forms hereafter.” This doctrine is

universally regarded as the all-potent solvent of human ills and the

process which alone can lead to ultimate rest. In transmigration the soul

is supposed to pass on from body to body in its wearisome, dismal

progress, towards emancipation. The bodies in which it is incarcerated

will be of all grades, according to the character of the life in the

previous births, from the august and divine body of a Brahman down to a

tenement of inorganic, lifeless rock. From ancient times this weary

process of working out the law of _Karma_ has seized upon the imagination

and wrought itself into the very being of the people of India; so that

today it is the universal way of salvation believed and taught by the

Vedantin, accepted with assurance by the idolater, and the one great

bugbear in the mind of even the common coolie.

This doctrine has its roots in Vedantism and is an essential part of it.

The Brahman theosophist taught that all souls emanated from Brâhm and must

return to their source along the way of metempsychosis. All acts, words

and thoughts find their exact reward in future births. If a man steals a

cow he shall be reborn as a crocodile or lizard; if grain, as a rat; if

fruit, as an ape. The murderer of a Brahman endures long-suffering in the

several hells and is then born again in the meanest bodies to atone for

his crime. According to Manu the soul might pass “through ten thousand

millions” of births. The passageway to absorption is through Brahmanhood

only. Transmigration is the doom of all others.

The prevalence of this doctrine in India is one of the saddest facts

connected with its life. It is sombre and depressing in the extreme and

robs the mind of a good portion of the small comfort which the idea of

absorption might otherwise bring to it. Though the doctrine has found a

footing among other nations at different periods in their history, nowhere

else has it prevailed so long and exercised such a mighty influence over

high and low as it has in that land.

The doctrine is based upon a hypothetical identity of soul in different

successive bodies—a hypothesis which can never be proved, and which

contradicts the universal consciousness. Until that erratic Englishwoman,

Mrs. Besant, appeared, no one claimed to possess the first intimation,

through consciousness or memory, of a previous existence in another body.

Ancient rishis and a few others were said by _others_ to have possessed

it. Strange, if such a re-incarnation were a fact, that none has ever been

assured of it by any other agent than the philosopher in his search after

truth. Stranger still that men in such countless millions should hang

their whole destiny upon so rotten a cord—so unethical a theory—as is here

involved. Why should any moral being be put through a course of

discipline, or be punished, for a past of which he has no knowledge? To

inflict a punishment for any conduct or thought to which the memory does

not bear evidence, nor conscience furnish assent, nor the whole realm of

conscious experience reveal a trace, is both unethical and in violation of

the deepest laws of being.

Nor does it appear how this process, as a method of discipline, can

achieve what is expected of it. It is maintained that, ultimately, all the

myriads of separate souls will cross over this terrible stream of human

existence and reach the further shore of emancipation. But what aptitude,

or efficiency, there can be in metempsychosis itself to reach this end is

not apparent. That the soul should ultimately reach beatitude rather than

absolute, irremedial, degradation through this process is merely

_assumed_, and that without adequate foundation in reason.

In view of the well-known power of sin and its tendency to settle down,

through habit, into a permanent type of character; in view of the

well-attested scientific doctrine of heredity—a doctrine which easily

accounts for and explains every semblance of truth in transmigration—it

seems incredible that any soul in India could, through transmigration,

finally emerge out of the quicksand of sin and corruption which surround

and overwhelm it, especially when it is assumed that it has already passed

through many births.

It should also be remembered that, at its basis, this doctrine has its

face turned, with equal repugnance, against all sorts of work. Desire of

every kind, good as well as evil, is to be suppressed inasmuch as it is

the source of action, and action must bear its fruit, the eating of which

prolongs existence which, itself, is the burden to be removed. The

question is not how to become good and to overcome evil in life, but how

to shake off all personality. And this is accomplished, they say, by

abandoning all action and suppressing all desire whatever. How this can

result in holiness and lofty character is not evident. It is true that a

certain sort of “good works” have large value in this process of

emancipation. But quiescence rather than character is the thing

emphasized. Noble thoughts and aspirations are as fatal as are the basest

to immediate deliverance—they all disturb that equilibrium of the soul

which ushers it into its final rest. “The confinement of fetters is the

same whether the chain is of gold or of iron.”

It is doubtless true that this doctrine has some elements of truth,

otherwise it could not have survived and thriven as it has. It bears

consistent testimony to the immortality of the soul. It also teaches the

important truth that the soul must receive the full reward of all its

deeds in a body. It is also, in a certain way, a response to that deep

instinct of justice which is a part of human nature. But these cannot

atone for its fundamental defects and errors. Some claim that its highest

merit is that it is a powerful deterrent from sin and incentive to virtue.

Beyond the remarks made above the all-sufficient refutation to such a

statement is the present condition of the Hindu race itself. If any people

on earth, more than others, sin with “fatal facility” and seem perfectly

oblivious to the character and consequences of their deeds they are the

descendants of the rishis of old and the heirs, in rich abundance, of this

and its cognate doctrines. To judge this doctrine by its results in India

is to pronounce it an error and a curse.

5. The Ideals of the Two Faiths.

No religion can regenerate or exalt men simply through a code of moral

laws, or even through impassioned appeals to a higher life and threats of

eternal punishment. There must be, above and beyond all this, a life which

stands boldly forth as an example and inspiration to good men. The noble

example of the royal Gautama did more perhaps than any other thing to

disseminate Buddhism throughout India. His supreme renunciation and his

loyalty to truth exalted him before his disciples and transformed him into

an ideal for Buddhists of future ages. This also is a preëminent

characteristic of Christianity. It is the religion of the Christ. _He_

stands supreme in it—not merely as its Founder, Expounder and Life. He is

also the embodiment of His own teaching, the ideal of life and conduct

which He has brought to men. His command to all is not—“Do this or that”;

but “Follow Me”—not, “Believe in this truth or another,” but “Believe in

Me,” who am “the way, the truth and the life.” For these twenty centuries

He has stood before the world as the incomparable, unapproachable, perfect

ideal which has wrought more for the regeneration of the world than all

other forces put together.

Do we find any counterpart to this in Hinduism? Do we find any life or

example which stands related to it as Buddha’s to Buddhism or as

Mohammed’s to Mohammedanism, or, even in a slight degree, as Christ’s to

Christianity? None whatever. Starting with the absolute Brâhm, we have

seen this Supreme Soul shrouded in unfathomable, unapproachable darkness.

We descend to the divine emanations of this eternal Soul and search in

vain among the millions of beings which constitute the Hindu pantheon to

find one who could become an ideal of life and an inspiration to the soul

struggling against sin. “Godlike life could scarcely start from its

examples of incarnations; for none of their lives is superhuman in

holiness. Even Rama, the most blameless character in Hindu mythological

literature, is by no means perfect; while the most popularly worshipped

incarnation committed deeds so vile that even the narrator warns his

hearers not to take him for their example. ‘Listen to the story of Hari,

but do not think of doing his deeds,’ he says.”

We look again at the sages and heroes of India with the hope that we may

possibly find one who stood conspicuous among others as the perfect type

of character and the helper of those struggling after a better and holier

life. Here again we are wofully disappointed, though it must be confessed

that there are loftier types of goodness and of self-discipline among them

than we found among the gods. Thus, with no worthy ideal of life before

them and no one to inspire them to better things, the wonder is that men

in India have not descended to a lower level than they have. It is perhaps

this very reason that has discouraged them and has led them to strive to

attain unto beatitude, not by perfecting, but by destroying humanity. The

renunciation and loss, rather than the realization, of self has thus

become their aim and ambition. Perhaps it is for this same reason also

that the votaries of this faith have constructed one of the most elaborate

systems of ceremonial and ritual that the world has ever witnessed;

whereby, in the absence of a high ideal and of a divine inspiration, the

whole life from birth even until after death, may be directed and

protected from evil.

6. The Credentials of the Two Faiths.

Each has its Scriptures in which are found its original teachings

including a declaration of its source and message to man. Beyond this

general statement very little can be predicated of these two in common.

The theories of their inspiration are dissimilar. In the Bible there is no

theory of inspiration taught. Its testimony to its own divine origin is

indirect rather than direct. And yet the evidence, both internal and

external, that the Bible was written by men under Divine guidance and

inspiration is unmistakable and convincing. Whether we have regard to its

prophetic utterances, its record of miracles, its plan of salvation, its

delineation of the incomparable life and character of Jesus Christ; or

whether we behold its marvellous power among men of all classes and of all

countries and tongues—all that pertain to it point unmistakably to its

divine origin.

Nor can any one fail to appreciate the beauty and sublimity of some of the

Vedic hymns of the Hindus or the profound depth of the philosophic reach

of the Upanishads, those sublime “guesses at truth,” or the great

excellence of the Bhagavad-Gita which is the gem of all Hindu literature.

And yet the puerilities of many and the obscenity of others of the Vedic

songs and prayers are well-known. So are the strange vagaries and the

rambling character of many parts of the Upanishads. And as for the

Bhagavad-Gita it is simply a dialogue whose gist is the argument of

Krishna—“the Supreme God”—to urge the tender-hearted and the

conscience-smitten Arjuna to slay his relatives in war. Its argument is

that no evil which one man may do to another is of any moment, since he

cannot touch his soul which is eternal and beyond the reach of any human

power! In the destiny of a soul what can the destruction of one of its

bodies signify? This is an argument which is subversive of morality and of

social order.

When one leaves these earlier scriptures of Brahmanism and takes up the

later productions—the _Puranas_ and Tantras—he comes into a very different

atmosphere, most of which is morally pestilential and spiritually

degrading. The ascription of divine inspiration and special heavenly

guidance in the production of such literature is nought else but

blasphemy. To pass over from the study of the Bible, with its transcendent

beauty, its perfect ethics, its heavenly spirit, its Divine Saviour and

way of salvation, to the Scriptures of India, especially the more recent

parts, is to exchange the pure air of heaven for the charnel house.

The “divine brevity” of the Bible is one of its most striking features.

Few things could impress one with the heavenly source of this Book more

markedly than its wonderful omissions.

How very different when we examine the countless tomes of the sacred

literature of India! If the salvation of a soul depended upon the reading

of even a hundredth part of these, who then could be saved? Their very

multiplicity and their voluminous character debar any man, however

learned, from an acquaintance with more than a small fraction of them.

Moreover, among learned pandits of today the _Smriti_ (traditions) are

more frequently quoted as authority, and they wield a larger power over

the life of the people, than the _Sruti_ (revelation) itself.

In the Christian Bible we are permitted to see a _progressive_ revelation.

From age to age, and from page to page, we see new glimpses of truth and

are attracted by the divine light whose illumination grows ever brighter

from Genesis to Revelation. This is what we should have expected from a

God-inspired book. We should have looked forward to a gradual transition

from the starry midnight of the far-off past to the rising, in Christ, of

the sun of righteousness with healing in His wings.

In Hindu literature this process is reversed. The surest, I may almost

say, the only, evidence we have of divine guidance in the production of

this literature is to be found among the earliest productions. There we

see earnestness of purpose combined with heavenly aspiration and deep

searching after truth. Subsequent to this we see the light vanishing and

earnestness giving place to triviality of thought, to the ravings of

superstition, to the inanities of ceremonialism and to the laws of social

and religious bondage. All this progress downward is in direct ratio to

our distance from Vedic times.

What could be more conclusive proof of the human source and direction of

these prolific writings? Educated Hindus are sensible of this fact. They

constantly hark back to the Vedas, to the Upanishads and to the

Bhagavad-Gita, conscious of the fact that these represent the high

water-mark of their faith and literature.

7. Other Distinguishing Traits.

These are not a few, and they aid in presenting the two faiths in bold

relief.

(_a_) Their attitude towards the individual and Society. Nowhere are they

more antipodal to each other than here. Christianity is preëminently a

faith which exalts the individual. It presents, with marked clearness, his

rights and responsibilities. His liberty of thought, of belief and of

action, is fundamentally sacred and to be conserved at all hazards.

Hinduism is the staunchest foe of individual freedom. It concedes no right

to the individual which others are bound to respect. It has erected above

the individual, and in such a way as to overshadow him entirely, the

stupendous caste system. And it has subordinated his every right and

privilege to the whim of this demon caste. Man is its abject slave—cannot

swerve one inch from its dictates; and these reach down to the smallest

detail of his life. If the vast majority of the members of a caste were

high in their morals and strict in their integrity and pure in their

beliefs, the aid to a higher life which this system might render to the

individual would, in small part, compensate for its destruction of his

manly independence. But caste discipline directs itself to petty forms and

observances and to the perpetuation of mean jealousies rather than to the

development of character.

In India alone is caste a religious institution. The Brahman merged the

individual in the corporate body, thus perfecting his bondage; and he set

class against class to prevent the lower from rising and to make national

union impossible. Men were said to have been created differently even as

different kinds of animals; to bring them together is as unnatural as it

is sinful.

Thus, every man within the pale of this religion has his social, as his

religious, status fixed unchangeably for him before his birth; and woe be

to him who tries to shake off this bondage, or even in a small degree to

kick against the pricks. No better system than this has been devised under

heaven to rob man of his birthright of independence and self-respect. And

the population of India bears, in its character and conduct, ample

testimony to the truth of this statement.

(_b_) Connected closely with this is another aspect.

The religion of Jesus fosters progress. Not only do we behold Christian

nations the most progressive, we also find that as this faith obtains in

its purity, so do its votaries enjoy the large spirit and results of

progress, both in religion, science, the arts and in civilization. In

India, on the other hand, conservatism is a fetish and custom a divine law

of conduct. In the West the question asked, as men approach a certain line

of action, is whether it be reasonable? Among Hindus the invariable

inquiry is,—is it customary?—did our forefathers practice it? This again

is the legitimate product of the caste system. It conserves and deifies

the past. It never tolerates a question as to the wisdom of the ancients.

The code of Manu, which is the source and supreme authority for this

system, has done more to stereotype and degrade social and religious life

in India than has any other code in all the history of other lands.

(_c_) Another marked feature of the religion of Jesus is its

exclusiveness. It claims to be the only way of salvation. Not that it is

unwilling to acknowledge the truths which are found in other faiths. While

it recognizes such, it maintains that they are but broken lights of the

Truth which it presents in all its full-orbed glory. It reveals Christ as

the fulfillment of the good and pious of all nations, and His revelation

as the realization of all truth wherever found. But as a means of

salvation it stands alone, and will brook no rivalry nor accept divided

homage.

In Hinduism, on the other hand, we see tolerance incarnate. It is true

that the caste system lends itself readily to intolerance, that some of

the most refined and cruel forms of persecution are conducted by it

against Christians today. Yet in itself this faith has a genius for

toleration. It does not go out of its way to attack other faiths. On the

contrary it generally reaches forward the flag of truce and peace to them.

It willingly appropriates much of their teaching and ritual. It placed in

its pantheon its arch-enemy, Buddha, and has dignified many of the demons

of the primitive cult of South India in the same way. And herein lie the

subtle power and supreme danger which inhere in it to other faiths.

(_d_) It must also be remembered that the faith of India is an ethnic

faith, with no ambition to reach to other peoples beyond that peninsula.

This faith has a hundred ways of expelling and excommunicating its members

and only one doubtful door by which it may receive outsiders, namely, by

the formation of a new caste.

Christianity, on the other hand, is preëminently a missionary religion. It

claims to be the universal faith. The last commandment of the Lord upon

earth and the first work of the Holy Spirit upon His descent was to

propagate the faith and to carry it to many lands and peoples. Hinduism is

conserved by its social organism of caste; Christianity, by its leavening

influence upon all that comes in contact with it, and the outreaching

power of its life within.

(_e_) Another difference is observable in the fact that while Christianity

is always held as a system of saving truth to be believed, Hinduism, in

its acceptance, does not involve the necessary belief of any doctrine or

system of doctrine. It is well understood that a man of any belief, or of

no belief, may be a genuine and orthodox Hindu provided he observes caste

rules and ceremonies. It has been more than once insisted upon that a man

may accept Christ as his Saviour and His religion as his firm belief and

still remain a Hindu if he only submit to the demands of caste. Not a few

Hindus are trying to live up to this strange dual system today! And I fear

some native Christians have not got rid of the same delusion.

(_f_) There is also a marked difference in the moral standards of the two

faiths. In a certain sense the moral code of Brahmanism, at its best, is

lofty if not perfect. It enjoins a man not to lie, not to steal, not

injure another, to be just, brave, hospitable and self-controlled. Some

savage races inculcate, with more or less severity, the same moral

lessons. But to Hindus as to savages these injunctions have represented

the moral code; and whoever, among them, attains unto these, mostly

negative, virtues, is deemed worthy of praise. In a sense the ten

commandments communicated through Moses, obtain among Christians and are

enjoined upon them today. But they, rather than represent the Christian’s

ideal, indicate only the low water mark of his moral requirements. To say

of a Christian gentleman today that he does not steal, or does not lie, is

rather an insult than a compliment, since it assumes that he possesses

only what is now considered a very elementary form of morality, such as

the lower classes and children are supposed to practice. It is only as we

follow Jesus Christ and sublimate this code in love (Matt. 22:37-40) that

we rise to the full significance and divine content of morality. The

Christian code rests not in negation, but commands a life of outgoing,

active love. A lofty altruism must permeate his every act and give

colouring to his whole life. Christ not only introduced and emphasized

this golden rule; He taught that it was absolutely necessary (John 12:25;

Matt. 5:44).

To the Hindu, on the other hand, the _lex talionis_ is a law of life still

enforced. See, _e.g._, Vishnu Purana 5:19. He never thinks nor is he

commanded by his religion to think, of aught but outward conformity to a

moral code which is altogether inadequate to keep, direct and inspire him

in life. This difficulty is, of course, enhanced when we remember that in

the whole realm of Hindu life—whether it be of gods or of men—there is no

one who looms up as a perfect example. It is therefore little wonder that

in India today morality is at so low an ebb and that even the code which

prevails there is so sadly and universally violated.

Hopkins aptly remarks in this connection: “This Christian ideal of today,

which makes fair-mindedness, liberality of thought, and altruism the

respective representatives of the savage virtues of manual honesty,

truth-speaking and hospitality, is just what is lacking in the more

primitive ideal formulated in the code of savages and of Brahman alike....

In India all the factors of the modern code are entirely lacking at the

time when the old code was first completely formulated. Liberality of

thought comes in with the era of the Upanishads; but it is a restricted

freedom. Altruism is unknown to pure Brahmanism.”

Conclusion.

Considering therefore these two faiths in all their characteristics and

tendencies we are warranted in concluding that Hinduism must wane and

vanish. It is an ancient faith and has survived not a few storms. It has a

strong place in the hearts of a great people. But the leaven of

dissolution and death is mightily at work within it today. The times are

changed, new circumstances are bringing in a revolution of thought.

Foreign ideas, language and customs are the rage; a new civilization, the

deadly foe to the strongholds of the faith, is supplanting the old. This

faith has nothing to offer with a view to meeting this new and complicated

situation. It opposes all progress; through its pundits and orthodox

defenders it antagonizes modern civilization and scientific advancement at

every point. It is given up to degrading idolatry and a debasing,

all-absorbing ceremonialism. It is the foster-mother of ignorance.

The mighty influence of Christianity, on the other hand, is being felt by

all in the land; and the thousand-headed, thousand-handed civilization of

the West is grasping and slowly transforming all their ideas of life.

Verily India is in the throes of a new birth. Hinduism has done some good,

doubtless. It has had a mission in the world and that has unquestionably

been, partly, in the conservation of the great doctrine of God’s immanence

at a time when the western world had largely forgotten it. But this work

is no longer needed. Today this truth is emphasized also by the Christian

Church, and in the safe and practical way, in combination and harmony with

the personality and fatherhood of God.

We can therefore look forward with confidence to the ultimate issue of

this great conflict and see, through faith, the day when Christ shall

reign supreme in that land.

India's Problem, Krishna or Christ · 第 3 / 11 章