history of the prince of Kapilavastu; but we have only to look at the
works on ancient philosophy and religion published some thirty years
ago, in order to perceive the immense progress that has been made in
establishing the true historical character of the founder of Buddhism.
There was a time when Buddha was identified with Christ. The
Manichaeans were actually forced to abjure their belief that Buddha,
Christ, and Mani were one and the same person.[63] But we are thinking
rather of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, when elaborate
books were written, in order to prove that Buddha had been in reality
the Thoth of the Egyptians, that he was Mercury, or Wodan, or
Zoroaster, or Pythagoras. Even Sir W. Jones, as we saw, identified
Buddha, first with Odin, and afterwards with Shishak, 'who either in
person or by a colony from Egypt imported into India the mild heresy
of the ancient Bauddhas.' At present we know that neither Egypt nor
the Walhalla of Germany, neither Greece nor Persia, could have
produced either the man himself or his doctrine. He is the offspring
of India in mind and soul. His doctrine, by the very antagonism in
which it stands to the old system of Brahmanism, shows that it could
not have sprung up in any country except India. The ancient history of
Brahmanism leads on to Buddhism, with the same necessity with which
mediaeval Romanism led to Protestantism. Though the date of Buddha is
still liable to small chronological oscillations, his place in the
intellectual annals of India is henceforth definitely marked: Buddhism
became the state religion of India at the time of A_s_oka; and
A_s_oka, the Buddhist Constantine, was the grandson of _K_andragupta,
the contemporary of Seleucus Nicator. The system of the Brahmans had
run its course. Their ascendency, at first purely intellectual and
religious, had gradually assumed a political character. By means of
the system of caste this influence pervaded the whole social fabric,
not as a vivifying leaven, but as a deadly poison. Their increasing
power and self-confidence are clearly exhibited in the successive
periods of their ancient literature. It begins with the simple hymns
of the Veda. These are followed by the tracts, known by the name of
Brahma_n_as, in which a complete system of theology is elaborated, and
claims advanced in favour of the Brahmans, such as were seldom
conceded to any hierarchy. The third period in the history of their
ancient literature is marked by their Sutras or Aphorisms, curt and
dry formularies, showing the Brahmans in secure possession of all
their claims. Such privileges as they then enjoyed are never enjoyed
for any length of time. It was impossible for anybody to move or to
assert his freedom of thought and action without finding himself
impeded on all sides by the web of the Brahmanic law; nor was there
anything in their religion to satisfy the natural yearnings of the
human heart after spiritual comfort. What was felt by Buddha, had been
felt more or less intensely by thousands; and this was the secret of
his success. That success was accelerated, however, by political
events. _K_andragupta had conquered the throne of Magadha, and
acquired his supremacy in India in defiance of the Brahmanic law. He
was of low origin, a mere adventurer, and by his accession to the
throne an important mesh had been broken in the intricate system of
caste. Neither he nor his successors could count on the support of the
Brahmans, and it is but natural that his grandson, A_s_oka, should
have been driven to seek support from the sect founded by Buddha.
Buddha, by giving up his royal station, had broken the law of caste as
much as _K_andragupta by usurping it. His school, though it had
probably escaped open persecution until it rose to political
importance, could never have been on friendly terms with the Brahmans
of the old school. The _parvenu_ on the throne saw his natural allies
in the followers of Buddha, and the mendicants, who by their
unostentatious behaviour had won golden opinions among the lower and
middle classes, were suddenly raised to an importance little dreamt of
by their founder. Those who see in Buddhism, not a social but chiefly
a religious and philosophical reform, have been deceived by the later
Buddhist literature, and particularly by the controversies between
Buddhists and Brahmans, which in later times led to the total
expulsion of the former from India, and to the political
re-establishment of Brahmanism. These, no doubt, turn chiefly on
philosophical problems, and are of the most abstruse and intricate
character. But such was not the teaching of Buddha. If we may judge
from 'the four verities,' which Buddha inculcated from the first day
that he entered on his career as a teacher, his philosophy of life was
very simple. He proclaims that there was nothing but sorrow in life;
that sorrow is produced by our affections, that our affections must be
destroyed in order to destroy the root of sorrow, and that he could
teach mankind how to eradicate all the affections, all passions, all
desires. Such doctrines were intelligible; and considering that Buddha
received people of all castes, who after renouncing the world and
assuming their yellow robes, were sure of finding a livelihood from
the charitable gifts of the people, it is not surprising that the
number of his followers should have grown so rapidly. If Buddha really
taught the metaphysical doctrines which are ascribed to him by
subsequent writers--and this is a point which it is impossible to
settle--not one in a thousand among his followers would have been
capable of appreciating those speculations. They must have been
reserved for a few of his disciples, and they would never have formed
the nucleus for a popular religion.
[Footnote 63: Neander, 'History of the Church,' vol. i. p. 817:
[Greek: Ton Zaradan kai Boudan kai ton Christon kai ton Manichaion
hena kai ton auton einai.]]
Nearly all who have written on Buddhism, and M. Barthelemy Saint-Hilaire
among the rest, have endeavoured to show that these metaphysical doctrines
of Buddha were borrowed from the earlier systems of Brahmanic philosophy,
and more particularly from the Sankhya system. The reputed founder of that
system is Kapila, and we saw before how Professor Wilson actually changed
the name of Kapilavastu, the birthplace of Buddha, into a mere
allegory:--Kapilavastu meaning, according to him, the substance of Kapila
or of the Sankhya philosophy. This is not all. Mr. Spence Hardy (p. 132)
quotes a legend in which it is said that Buddha was in a former existence
the ascetic Kapila, that the _S_akya princes came to his hermitage, and
that he pointed out to them the proper place for founding a new city, which
city was named after him Kapilavastu. But we have looked in vain for any
definite similarities between the system of Kapila, as known to us in the
Sankhya-sutras, and the Abhidharma, or the metaphysics of the Buddhists.
Such similarities would be invaluable. They would probably enable us to
decide whether Buddha borrowed from Kapila or Kapila from Buddha, and thus
determine the real chronology of the philosophical literature of India, as
either prior or subsequent to the Buddhist era. There are certain notions
which Buddha shares in common not only with Kapila, but with every Hindu
philosopher. The idea of transmigration, the belief in the continuing
effects of our good and bad actions, extending from our former to our
present and from our present to our future lives, the sense that life is a
dream or a burden, the admission of the uselessness of religious
observances after the attainment of the highest knowledge, all these
belong, so to say, to the national philosophy of India. We meet with these
ideas everywhere, in the poetry, the philosophy, the religion of the
Hindus. They cannot be claimed as the exclusive property of any system in
particular. But if we look for more special coincidences between Buddha's
doctrines and those of Kapila or other Indian philosophers, we look in
vain. At first it might seem as if the very first aphorism of Kapila,
namely, 'the complete cessation of pain, which is of three kinds, is the
highest aim of man,' was merely a philosophical paraphrase of the events
which, as we saw, determined Buddha to renounce the world in search of the
true road to salvation. But though the starting-point of Kapila and Buddha
is the same, a keen sense of human misery and a yearning after a better
state, their roads diverge so completely and their goals are so far apart,
that it is difficult to understand how, almost by common consent, Buddha is
supposed either to have followed in the footsteps of Kapila, or to have
changed Kapila's philosophy into a religion. Some scholars imagine that
there was a more simple and primitive philosophy which was taught by
Kapila, and that the Sutras which are now ascribed to him, are of later
date. It is impossible either to prove or to disprove such a view. At
present we know Kapila's philosophy from his Sutras only,[64] and these
Sutras seem to us posterior, not anterior, to Buddha. Though the name of
Buddha is not mentioned in the Sutras, his doctrines are clearly alluded to
and controverted in several parts of them.
[Footnote 64: Of Kapila's Sutras, together with the commentary of
Vi_g_nana Bhikshu, a new edition was published in 1856, by Dr.
Fitz-Edward Hall, in the 'Bibliotheca Indica.' An excellent
translation of the Aphorisms, with illustrative extracts from the
commentaries, was printed for the use of the Benares College, by Dr.
Ballantyne.]
It has been said that Buddha and Kapila were both atheists, and that
Buddha borrowed his atheism from Kapila. But atheism is an indefinite
term, and may mean very different things. In one sense every Indian
philosopher was an atheist, for they all perceived that the gods of
the populace could not claim the attributes that belong to a Supreme
Being. But all the important philosophical systems of the Brahmans
admit, in some form or other, the existence of an Absolute and Supreme
Being, the source of all that exists, or seems to exist. Kapila, when
accused of atheism, is not accused of denying the existence of an
Absolute Being. He is accused of denying the existence of I_s_vara,
which in general means the Lord, but which in the passage where it
occurs, refers to the I_s_vara of the Yogins, or mystic philosophers.
They maintained that in an ecstatic state man possesses the power of
seeing God face to face, and they wished to have this ecstatic
intuition included under the head of sensuous perceptions. To this
Kapila demurred. You have not proved the existence of your Lord, he
says, and therefore I see no reason why I should alter my definition
of sensuous perception in order to accommodate your ecstatic visions.
The commentator narrates that this strong language was used by Kapila
in order to silence the wild talk of the Mystics, and that, though he
taunted his adversaries with having failed to prove the existence of
their Lord, he himself did not deny the existence of a Supreme Being.
Kapila, however, went further. He endeavoured to show that all the
attributes which the Mystics ascribed to their Lord are inappropriate.
He used arguments very similar to those which have lately been used
with such ability by a distinguished Bampton Lecturer. The supreme
lord of the Mystics, Kapila argued, is either absolute and
unconditioned (mukta), or he is bound and conditioned (baddha). If he
is absolute and unconditioned, he cannot enter into the condition of a
Creator; he would have no desires which could instigate him to create.
If, on the contrary, he is represented as active, and entering on the
work of creation, he would no longer be the absolute and unchangeable
Being which we are asked to believe in. Kapila, like the preacher of
our own days, was accused of paving the road to atheism, but his
philosophy was nevertheless admitted as orthodox, because, in addition
to sensuous perception and inductive reasoning, Kapila professed
emphatically his belief in revelation, i. e. in the Veda, and allowed
to it a place among the recognised instruments of knowledge. Buddha
refused to allow to the Vedas any independent authority whatever, and
this constituted the fundamental difference between the two
philosophers.
Whether Kapila's philosophy was really in accordance with the spirit
of the Veda, is quite a different question. No philosophy, at least
nothing like a definite system, is to be found in the sacred hymns of
the Brahmans; and though the Vedanta philosophy does less violence to
the passages which it quotes from the Veda, the authors of the Veda
would have been as much surprised at the consequences deduced from
their words by the Vedantin, as by the strange meaning attributed to
them by Kapila. The Vedanta philosopher, like Kapila, would deny the
existence of a Creator in the usual sense of the word. He explained
the universe as an emanation from Brahman, which is all in all. Kapila
admitted two principles, an absolute Spirit and Nature, and he looked
upon the universe as produced by a reflection of Nature thrown on the
mirror of the absolute Spirit. Both systems seem to regard creation,
or the created world, as a misfortune, as an unfortunate accident. But
they maintain that its effects can be neutralised, and that
emancipation from the bonds of earthly existence is possible by means
of philosophy. The Vedanta philosopher imagines he is free when he has
arrived at the knowledge that nothing exists but Brahman; that all
phenomena are merely the result of ignorance; that after the
destruction of that ignorance, and of its effects, all is merged again
in Brahman, the true source of being, thought, and happiness. Kapila
taught that the spirit became free from all mundane fetters as soon as
it perceived that all phenomena were only passing reflections produced
by nature upon the spirit, and as soon as it was able to shut its eyes
to those illusory visions. Both systems therefore, and the same
applies to all the other philosophical systems of the Brahmans,
admitted an absolute or self-existing Being as the cause of all that
exists or seems to exist. And here lies the specific difference
between Kapila and Buddha. Buddha, like Kapila, maintained that this
world had no absolute reality, that it was a snare and an illusion.
The words, 'All is perishable, all is miserable, all is void,' must
frequently have passed his lips. But we cannot call things unreal
unless we have a conception of something that is real. Where, then,
did Buddha find a reality in comparison with which this world might be
called unreal? What remedy did he propose as an emancipation from the
sufferings of this life? Difficult as it seems to us to conceive it,
Buddha admits of no real cause of this unreal world. He denies the
existence not only of a Creator, but of any Absolute Being. According
to the metaphysical tenets, if not of Buddha himself, at least of his
sect, there is no reality anywhere, neither in the past nor in the
future. True wisdom consists in perceiving the nothingness of all
things, and in a desire to become nothing, to be blown out, to enter
into Nirva_n_a. Emancipation is obtained by total extinction, not by
absorption in Brahman, or by a recovery of the soul's true estate. If
to be is misery, not to be must be felicity, and this felicity is the
highest reward which Buddha promised to his disciples. In reading the
Aphorisms of Kapila, it is difficult not to see in his remarks on
those who maintain that all is void, covert attacks on Buddha and his
followers. In one place (I. 43) Kapila argues that if people believed
in the reality of thought only, and denied the reality of external
objects, they would soon be driven to admit that nothing at all
exists, because we perceive our thoughts in the same manner as we
perceive external objects. This naturally leads him to an examination
of that extreme doctrine, according to which all that we perceive is
void, and all is supposed to perish, because it is the nature of
things that they should perish. Kapila remarks in reference to this
view (I. 45), that it is a mere assertion of persons who are 'not
enlightened,' in Sanskrit a-buddha, a sarcastic expression in which it
is very difficult not to see an allusion to Buddha, or to those who
claimed for him the title of the Enlightened. Kapila then proceeds to
give the best answer that could be given to those who taught that
complete annihilation must be the highest aim of man, as the only
means of a complete cessation of suffering. 'It is not so,' he says,
'for if people wish to be free from suffering, it is they themselves
who wish to be free, just as in this life it is they themselves who
wish to enjoy happiness. There must be a permanent soul in order to
satisfy the yearnings of the human heart, and if you deny that soul,
you have no right to speak of the highest aim--of man.'
Whether the belief in this kind of Nirva_n_a, i. e. in a total
extinction of being, personality, and consciousness, was at any time
shared by the large masses of the people, is difficult either to
assert or deny. We know nothing in ancient times of the religious
convictions of the millions. We only know what a few leading spirits
believed, or professed to believe. That certain individuals should
have spoken and written of total extinction as the highest aim of man,
is intelligible. Job cursed the day on which he was born, and Solomon
praised the 'dead which are already dead, more than the living which
are yet alive,' 'Yea, better is he than both they,' he said, 'which
hath not yet been, who hath not seen the evil work that is done under
the sun,' Voltaire said in his own flippant way, 'On aime la vie, mais
le neant ne laisse pas d'avoir du bon;' and a modern German
philosopher, who has found much favour with those who profess to
despise Kant, Schelling, and Hegel, writes, 'Considered in its
objective value, it is more than doubtful that life is preferable to
the Nothing. I should say even, that if experience and reflection
could lift up their voices they would recommend to us the Nothing. We
are what ought not to be, and we shall therefore cease to be.' Under
peculiar circumstances, in the agonies of despair, or under the
gathering clouds of madness, such language is intelligible; but to
believe, as we are asked to believe, that one half of mankind had
yearned for total annihilation, would be tantamount to a belief that
there is a difference in kind between man and man. Buddhist
philosophers, no doubt, held this doctrine, and it cannot be denied
that it found a place in the Buddhist canon. But even among the
different schools of Buddhist philosophers, very different views are
adopted as to the true meaning of Nirva_n_a, and with the modern
Buddhists of Burmah, Nigban, as they call it, is defined simply as
freedom from old age, disease, and death. We do not find fault with M.
Barthelemy Saint-Hilaire for having so emphatically pressed the charge
of nihilism against Buddha himself. In one portion of the Buddhist
canon the most extreme views of nihilism are put into his mouth. All
we can say is that that canon is later than Buddha, and that in the
same canon[65] the founder of Buddhism, after having entered into
Nirva_n_a, is still spoken of as living, nay, as showing himself to
those who believe in him. Buddha, who denied the existence, or at
least the divine nature, of the gods worshipped by the Brahmans, was
raised himself to the rank of a deity by some of his followers (the
Ai_s_varikas), and we need not wonder therefore if his Nirva_n_a too
was gradually changed into an Elysian field. And finally, if we may
argue from human nature, such as we find it at all times and in all
countries, we confess that we cannot bring ourselves to believe that
the reformer of India, the teacher of so perfect a code of morality,
the young prince who gave up all he had in order to help those whom
he saw afflicted in mind, body, or estate, should have cared much
about speculations which he knew would either be misunderstood, or not
understood at all, by those whom he wished to benefit; that he should
have thrown away one of the most powerful weapons in the hands of
every religious teacher, the belief in a future life, and should not
have seen, that if this life was sooner or later to end in nothing, it
was hardly worth the trouble which he took himself, or the sacrifices
which he imposed on his disciples.
_April, 1862._
[Footnote 65: 'L'enfant egare,' par Ph. Ed. Foucaux, p. 19.]
X.
BUDDHIST PILGRIMS.[66]
M. Stanislas Julien has commenced the publication of a work entitled,
'Voyages des Pelerins Bouddhistes.' The first volume, published in the
year 1853, contains the biography of Hiouen-thsang, who, in the middle
of the seventh century A.D., travelled from China through Central Asia
to India. The second, which has just reached us, gives us the first
portion of Hiouen-thsang's own diary.
[Footnote 66: 'Voyages des Pelerins Bouddhistes.' Vol. I. Histoire de
la Vie de Hiouen-thsang, et de ses Voyages dans l'Inde, depuis l'an
629 jusqu'en 645, par Hoeili et Yen-thsong; traduite du Chinois par
Stanislas Julien.
Vol. II. Memoires sur les Contrees Occidentales, traduits du Sanscrit
en Chinois, en l'an 648, par Hiouen-thsang, et du Chinois en Francais,
pas Stanislas Julien. Paris, 1853-1857: B. Duprat. London and
Edinburgh: Williams and Norgate.]
There are not many books of travel which can be compared to these
volumes. Hiouen-thsang passed through countries which few had visited
before him. He describes parts of the world which no one has explored
since, and where even our modern maps contain hardly more than the
ingenious conjectures of Alexander von Humboldt. His observations are
minute; his geographical, statistical, and historical remarks most
accurate and trustworthy. The chief object of his travels was to study
the religion of Buddha, the great reformer of India. Some Chinese
pilgrims visited India before, several after, his time. Hiouen-thsang,
however, is considered by the Chinese themselves as the most
distinguished of these pilgrims, and M. Stanislas Julien has rightly
assigned to him the first place in his collection.
In order to understand what Hiouen-thsang was, and to appreciate his
life and his labours, we must first cast a glance at the history of a
religion which, however unattractive and even mischievous it may
appear to ourselves, inspired her votary with the true spirit of
devotion and self-sacrifice. That religion has now existed for exactly
2,400 years. To millions and millions of human beings it has been the
only preparation for a higher life placed within their reach. And even
at the present day it counts among the hordes of Asia a more numerous
array of believers than any other faith, not excluding Mohammedanism
or Christianity. The religion of Buddha took its origin in India about
the middle of the sixth century B.C., but it did not assume its
political importance till about the time of Alexander's invasion. We
know little, therefore, of its first origin and spreading, because the
canonical works on which we must chiefly rely for information belong
to a much later period, and are strongly tinged with a legendary
character. The very existence of such a being as Buddha, the son of
_S_uddhodana, king of Kapilavastu, has been doubted. But what can
never be doubted is this, that Buddhism, such as we find it in
Russia[67] and Sweden[68] on the very threshold of European
civilisation, in the north of Asia, in Mongolia, Tatary, China, Tibet,
Nepal, Siam, Burmah, and Ceylon, had its origin in India. Doctrines
similar to those of Buddha existed in that country long before his
time. We can trace them like meandering roots below the surface long
before we reach the point where the roots strike up into a stem, and
the stem branches off again into fruit-bearing branches. What was
original and new in Buddha was his changing a philosophical system
into a practical doctrine; his taking the wisdom of the few, and
coining as much of it as he thought genuine for the benefit of the
many; his breaking with the traditional formalities of the past, and
proclaiming for the first time, in spite of castes and creeds, the
equality of the rich and the poor, the foolish and the wise, the
'twice-born' and the outcast. Buddhism, as a religion and as a
political fact, was a reaction against Brahmanism, though it retained
much of that more primitive form of faith and worship. Buddhism, in
its historical growth, presupposes Brahmanism, and, however hostile
the mutual relation of these two religions may have been at different
periods of Indian history, it can be shown, without much difficulty,
that the latter was but a natural consequence of the former.