Christianity and Buddhism. The new and old world. An
impartial judge is said to be a partisan. Works on the
subject. Sakya Muni's birth, B.c. 620 (about), position in
life, original views. Parallels between Brahmin-ism,
Buddhism, Hebraism, and Christianity. History of Sakya Muni
--that of Jesus corresponds with it marvellously. Sakya
receives a commission from an angel--is henceforth a
saviour. History of Jesus follows that of Sakya. Siddartha
neither dictated nor wrote. A favourite garden. Sakya and
the Brahmins. Buddha and Christ equally persecuted. Spread
of Buddhism after Siddartha's death. Asoka a royal convert
Buddhist missionaries, b.c. 307. Their wonderful successes.
Different development of Buddhism and Christianity.
Persecution a Christian practice, Buddha tempted by the
Devil, and by women, like St Anthony. Buddha's life reduced
to writing, at least B.c. 90. Hardy on Buddhist miracles.
His remarks criticised. Necessity for miracles is doubtful.
Sakya and a future life. Resurrection from the dead. Jesus
not the first fruits of them that slept. Paul's argument
worthless. Buddhists in advance of Christians. Priestcraft
at time of Buddha and Jesus. Both did away with ceremonial.
Sakya's doctrine--compared with Christian teaching. Another
parallel between Buddha and Jesus. Commandments of Tathagata
(Buddha), or the Great Sramana. Rules for his saintly
friends--for outsiders. Definition of terms. The Sra-mana's
opinion of miracles--a comparison. The history of Jesus told
without miracles. Buddhistic confession--remarks on in
modern times. Filial respect. Public confession, murder
absolved thereby. Asoka, about B.c. 263, sent out
missionaries. Objections made against Buddhism. Ideas
respecting God. Salvation. Buddha and Jesus. Nirvana. Heaven
and Hell--Christian ideas. Apocalypse. The heaven of John
and Mahomet compared with that of Buddha. Prayer not a
Buddhist institution--nor originally a Christian one. Nature
of prayer. The developments of Buddhism, particulars--
comparison between the Eastern ancient and Western modern
practice. Abbe Hue. No sexual element in Buddhism and
Christianity at first--it has crept into both in later
times. Inquiry into the probable introduction of Buddhism
into the West. Asceticism peculiar to Buddhism and
Christianity. The Essenes, their faith and practice--
resemblance to Buddhism. John and Jesus probably Essenes.
If Jesus was inspired, so was Siddartha. Differences
between Sakya and Jesus. Jesus 'believed in an immediate
destruction of the world. Idea of preexistence in Jesus and
Sakya adopted by their followers. The basis of the two
faiths is morality--but an unsound one. Nature of the
unsoundness. Morality has a reference to a life on earth
only. The decalogue superfluous. Ideas of future rewards and
punishments. Dives and Lazarus. The world can exist without
a knowledge of a future life. God thought so when He taught
the Jews. Dogma versus morality. See how these Christians
live! There are a few good men amongst Christians.
Supplementary remarks.
From the Peruvian and Aztec religious systems in what we designate the
New World, a phrase which involves the idea that its existence was for
ages wholly unknown to the historians of the Eastern Hemisphere, we turn
to another form of faith, which demands even greater attention. Buddhism
has, probably, done more to influence the minds of men in Asia than
any other religion in any part of the globe, and its history is so
remarkable, that it deserves the attention of every philosophical
student of mankind. To the Christian it ought to be especially
interesting, inasmuch as there is strong reason to believe that the
faith current amongst ourselves is to be traced to the teaching of
Sakya Muni, whose original name, we may notice, in passing, was no more
"Buddha" than "Christ" was the cognomen of the son of Mary.
An ingenious author on one occasion wrote a charming essay "upon the
art of putting things," and I cannot read any treatise upon Buddhism,
written by a Christian, without thinking how completely "the advocate"
is to be seen throughout them all Ecclesiastical writers, who are
Protestant preachers, endeavour laboriously to prove that the teaching
of Sakya Muni could not have been inspired, and was certainly false;
whilst other writers, who have no particular leaning towards Jesus,
extol the author of Buddhism beyond that of Christianity. Truly, in such
a matter it is extremely difficult not to appear as a partisan, however
carefully the scales may be held. The very fact of endeavouring "to see
ourselves as others see us" involves the necessity of "putting things"
in a different light to that which is most common or familiar to us. A
bumptious Briton thinks more of his own Islands than a Yankee thinks of
them, and one who endeavours to describe "the wheel of the law" as an
astute Buddhist would do, and who, at the same time, compares it with
the teachings of the son of Mary, must seem to those who, without
knowing its nature, despise the former, and yet implicitly believe in
the latter, to be a partisan. Acting upon this belief, we shall not
scruple to appear as an advocate, for we believe that "an opposition"
is as good in religion as in politics, and that it behoves us all to
examine every important question in all its bearings.
In the following essay I shall not attempt to go into every detail about
the life of Sakya Muni, for to do so would weary the reader. Anyone
who wishes for such information may be referred to _Le Bouddha et sa
Religion_, par J. Barthelemy Saint Hilaire, Paris, 1860, a book which
may be fairly designated as exhaustive. The English reader may also
consult _The Legends and Theories of the Buddhists_, by Rev. R. Spence
Hardy, London, 1866, which, though very prejudiced, is extremely
suggestive. Hardy's _Eastern Monachism_ and _Manual of Buddhists_ are
about the same. _The Mahawanso_ translated by Tumour, is also a very
valuable work of reference.
There appears to be little doubt that Sakya Muni was born about 622
years before our era, and that he died when about eighty years of age,
i.e.f B.C. 542. He was thus a contemporary of Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and
other Jewish prophets. Though of royal birth, and of the warrior or
kingly caste, he does not appear to have been instructed in general
history, if, indeed, any such was in existence in Hindostan at that or
any other period; and we cannot find a tittle of evidence that he
ever heard of any other religion than Brahminism, the dominant faith,
apparently, of the Aryan invaders of India. In that he was taught
assiduously, and some of its tenets he most firmly believed. Amongst
others, he held that men lived in a future world, in which each one was
rewarded or punished according to his doings when in a human form. His
teaching was founded upon the belief which the Brahmins inculcated,
that all men endure misery in this world for their conduct in a previous
state of existence, and that they would once again suffer after death,
unless they conducted themselves, in this life, in a manner pleasing
to the Almighty. In this creed is clearly involved, if not distinctly
enunciated, a full acknowledgment of the existence and power of God, of
the certainty of a future life, and a desire to escape from penalties
to be inflicted therein by a supreme celestial Judge, for immorality or
impropriety committed in the present state. For these points of doctrine
Sakya did not contend, he merely laid down a different system to the
Brahmins as to the method by which salvation was to be attained, and the
penal consequences of a sinful life were to be avoided.
We may now, halting here for a moment, examine these matters for
ourselves, and inquire in what way such faith differs from our own.
The Brahmin taught that man suffers pain, misery, and death for certain
crimes committed in a previous state of existence; the Christian teaches
that each one suffers for a fault committed by ancestors who lived
thousands of years ago. Neither the one nor the other regard pain,
sorrow, suffering, and death as the normal accompaniments of life, but
both attribute them to the wrath of an offended deity, who can be, in
some way, cheated, cajoled, appeased, or propitiated. Both assert that
men are debtors to God, and that miseries are "duns" used to make men
pay their obligations to heaven. The Brahmin taught that this could be
effected by prayer, sacrifice, and sundry ceremonies to be performed
by some man who had been specially appointed for the purpose. A due
attention to morality was also inculcated, but it was apparently
considered as of less importance than ritualistic observances.
The Jew, whom so many amongst us believe to have been especially taught
by God, propounded a belief essentially similar to that of the Brahmin,
with the single exception that he had no faith in a future existence,
but thought that sacrifice and offerings, through a priesthood, were
necessary to obtain comfort in this life.
The Christian teaches that the horrors of eternity can only be escaped
by believing on the Lord Jesus Christ (Acts xvi. 30, 31), and by being
moral in addition.
The "belief" here referred to is somewhat amplified in other parts of
the Bible, and notably in John iii. 15-17, 36; vi. 39, 40; ix. 35; xi.
15; and Acts viii. 37; from which we learn that an item in the faith was
a firm hold upon the idea that Jesus was the son, the only begotten son,
of God. This dogma is still further extended in the "Apostles' Creed,"
wherein the Christians express, as articles of faith, their belief, that
Jesus Christ was the only son of God, conceived by the Holy Ghost, and
born of the Virgin Mary, &c. This tenet is somewhat varied in the Nicene
Creed, which expresses the Christian belief to be, that the Lord Jesus
Christ is the only begotten son of God--begotten of his Father before
all worlds--being of one substance with the Father, by whom all things
were made, &c.
The fundamental teaching of Sakya was, that man can only escape the
tortures of the damned, by a strict propriety of conduct in this
world, and a persistent endeavour to renounce and think nothing of the
gratifications which make life pleasant. The modern Buddhist adds to
this a belief in the absolute divinity of the founder of his faith, not
simply that he was a son of God, but a visible embodiment of a portion
of the Creative Unity. Brahmins and Buddhists believe in transmigration
of souls: the Christian does the like, only, instead of being converted
into a beast, he imagines that he will become either an angel or a
devil.
Within certain limits, we may, therefore, say that the Brahminic, the
Jewish, the Buddhist, and the Christian religions are essentially
alike, differing only upon minor points, such as the absolute value of
morality, of ceremonial, of doctrine, of asceticism, the nature of a
hypothetical antecedent, and an equally uncertain future existence, and
the best means of escaping the penalties attached, in the second state,
to impropriety of conduct in the first. If we deride the Brahmin
and the Buddhist for the faith which they entertain, our laugh must
necessarily recoil on ourselves, for we have no more unequivocal grounds
for our belief than they have for theirs. We point in vain to what we
call "Revelation," for they can do the same, and if priority in such
matters is good for anything, the Brahminic must take precedence of the
Jewish, and the Buddhist of the Christian code. Nor can we call miracles
to our exclusive aid, for the religious books of the Hindoo are as full
of them as are those of the Jew and Christian, and the stories told
in the one can be readily paralleled in impossibility, incapacity,
frivolity, and absurdity by the others.
We must remember, then, when speaking of the teaching of Sakya, that it
was constructed upon the supposed fundamental truths of Brahminism, just
as the doctrines of Jesus were built upon those of Judaism. By adopting
these, respectively, the two preachers have demonstrated their belief in
them, but neither the one nor the other have advanced our knowledge
as to the reality of the earliest faith, nor demonstrated the truth of
their subsequent assumptions.
If we now endeavour, for the sake of comparison, to place the Eastern
and the Western points of belief in parallel columns, we shall be better
able to see the points of resemblance and of difference than by any
other plan.
[Illustration: 114]
[Illustration: 115]
These are only a few of the leading points of resemblance and
difference, and might be almost indefinitely multiplied.
After this preface, we may proceed to notice that Siddartha--another
name for Buddha--was of royal birth, and born in wedlock: his mother was
called Maya Devi, and was herself the daughter of a king. His father was
of the warrior caste, and, according to ancient usage, Sakya, like Jesus
some centuries later, was presented in the temple of the God of his
parents, and recognized by a Brahmin, whom we may designate as a
predecessor, by some hundreds of years, of the Jewish Simeon (Luke ii
25, seq.)f as having the marks of a great man upon him. As Sakya grew up
to man's estate he was found to be peculiarly clever, and soon distanced
his masters, as Jesus was and did, when, at twelve years, he went into
the temple and astonished the doctors. He was always thoughtful, and
frequently remained alone. Once he wandered into a forest, (compare
Matthew iv. 1-11), in which he was found lost in thought. When obliged
to exhibit his talents, Siddartha was found to have every conceivable
excellence, bodily and mental He was, by parental desire, married to a
paragon of a wife, who showed her good sense by rejecting the use of a
veil. In this Sakya differs from Mary's son, who never married, being,
most probably, of the tribe of the Essenes. In later life Siddartha
discouraged wedlock and every form of love. But, during all his outward
happiness; Siddartha's thoughts ran upon the misery which he saw on
every side to be common in the world, and he entertained a hope that
he would be able to show man the road to a happy immortality. In these
ideas the teacher was encouraged by a god, who appeared to him by night,
and told him that the appointed time for the deliverer had come. This
comforter also recommended him to leave his wife, his wealth, his
father's house, and give up all he had, so as to be able to seek,
unencumbered, the way of salvation. Compare here the passage, Mark x.
20-30, wherein Jesus gives the same kind of advice as the angel gave
to Sakya Muni. Having become satisfied of his mission from God, he
resolutely abandoned everything, and, being really a scion of royalty,
he had much to renounce. Siddartha thus became a mendicant, dependent
upon others for food and raiment, and resembled that son of Mary, of
whom we read that he had not a residence wherein to lay his head (Matt.
viii. 20; Luke ix. 58). He was about twenty-nine years of age when he
thus became poor for the sake of mankind. Compare what is said of
Jesus, Luke iii. 23. Though Siddartha was opposed to the Brahmins, he
nevertheless studied their doctrines, as Mary's son did that of the
Hebrew theologians, thoroughly, under one of the wisest of them, for
many years. Then, leaving this teacher, he went about preaching and
doing good. So much were men impressed with his beauty, his piety, and
his doctrines, that they flocked in crowds to see him, and he taught
them whilst sitting on the brow of Mount Pandava--even kings came to
hear him. Compare here what is said of the Nazarene, Matt. iv. 23 to
Matt. viii. 1. Sakya was persecuted for a long time by a relative, who
ultimately became one of his most ardent disciples. Compare Matt. xvi.
22 and John xxi. 15, et seq. Siddartha's austerities and mortifications
of himself, in every conceivable way, were excessive during the next six
years, and these have been represented as a combat with the Devil, whose
kingdom he destroyed. At the end of this probation, Sakya Muni, finding
fasting and pain not profitable for eternal salvation, resumed the
ordinary human habits of eating, &c. This disgusted many of his
disciples, and "they walked no more with him." He was partly supported
by a slave woman, and was content to clothe himself with vestments taken
from the dead. Finally, this wonderful son of Maya heard within him a
voice, which told him that he was divine, the saviour of the world, and
the incarnation of the wisdom of God--Buddha, "the word" itself. Compare
John i. 1, et seq. This was confirmed by a miracle, and thus, at the
age of thirty-six, and at the foot of a fig tree, Sakya Muni received
a divine commission, "and the word was made flesh." But, though thus
divinely inspired, the saviour doubted his power to convert mankind, and
at the first he only preached his new doctrines to a few. Even in this
respect it is marvellous to see how closely the Christian story of Jesus
follows that of his predecessor Siddartha. Some opposed Sakya, but these
were soon converted by his majesty, and the glory with which he spake
the words--"Yes," he said, "I have come to see clearly both immortality
and the way to attain it; I am Buddha--I know all--I see all--I have
blotted out my faults, and am above all law." Recognizing in Siddartha
the teacher of mankind, the common people heard him gladly, and gave
him homage, and he, in return, taught them his full doctrine. The Indian
saviour then proceeded to the holy city, Benares, and taught there.
But though he spoke much, he neither dictated nor wrote--like Jesus,
subsequently, he made no provision by which his doctrines might be
perpetuated. From Benares he went to other places, some of which were
especially dear to him, and thus became sacred. In like manner Bethany
was sanctified by Jesus. Amongst others was a garden, given to him,
with a mansion, by a wealthy disciple, which a lively fancy might call a
Hindoo Gethsemane. In this garden Buddha made many disciples, and in
it the first council of his followers was held after his death. Another
favourite retreat was a plantation of mango trees, and this, like every
other spot that Siddartha is known to have visited, has been adorned by
the faithful with ornamental architecture in commemoration of him.
As may be supposed, Sakya, when he assailed the Brahmins, was in turn
opposed by them with persevering malevolence; the former was outspoken
and said what he thought of the priests--he called them hypocrites,
cheats, impostors, and the like--and they were apparently conscious that
they deserved such titles.
Here, again, we notice a singular parallel between the Hindoo saviour
and the Jewish one, who followed him after a long interval. Not that
there is anything wonderful in the founder of a new faith reviling the
ministers of one more ancient--nor in the priests of an established
church endeavouring to suppress, by punishments, the professors who
interfere with their repose. We know how the Christian fathers abused
and lampooned the faith of those whose practices they detested--how
Luther and his followers lashed the vices of the Papists, and how these
in their turn burned the new preachers--when they had a chance; how the
Nonconformists censured the Establishment, and how the Episcopal Church
has harried Independents and Presbyterians. But it is strange to
find both Sakya and Jesus inaugurating a religion of peace by fierce
invectives. We have not particulars respecting the choice of language
made use of by the Indian, but we can scarcely imagine that it could be
more to the purpose than the vituperation employed by the Hebrew. Jesus
says,--"Ye compass sea and land to make one proselyte, and when he is
made ye make him twofold more the child of hell than yourselves,"--"Ye
are like unto whited sepulchres, which indeed appear beautiful outward,
but are within full of dead men's bones and all uncleanness" (Matt,
xxiii. 15-27). One cannot wonder that the Brahmins and the Pharisees,
who were objurgated as hypocrites, should retort upon their accusers,
prosecute the one and crucify the other.
As Sakya's influence increased, the power of the old priesthood
diminished, and there are accounts of many contests between the old
dispensers of Brahma's religion and the new saviour, which were held
before kings and people. In consequence of these disputes Buddha's life
was repeatedly in danger. But though often threatened, Siddartha died
peacefully when about eighty years old, beloved by many, respected by
more, worshipped as a divinity by his immediate disciples and intimate
friends, and venerated by all who had listened to his discourses.
There are a great many legends existent, and of very respectable
antiquity too, which tell of miracles performed by this very remarkable
Indian teacher; but the judicious historian, upon whose authority I am
at present relying (St. Hilaire), does not intermingle these with the
narrative of Siddartha's life. In this respect he shows greater judgment
than the scribes who first compiled the stories of Buddha and of Jesus,
both of whom conceived that human beings could not be converted to a new
style of belief without thaumaturgy.
The account of Sakya Muni and his religion would be incomplete did we
not add that he left behind him enthusiastic disciples who were eager
and successful in spreading his views. But many years, how many we do
not know with absolute certainty, elapsed ere any account was written
either of his life or of his teaching. Nor ought we to wonder at this,
for until time has been given to mankind, it cannot fairly estimate the
value of anything new; and when men do at length form, what they believe
to be, a perfect judgment of the importance of the doctrine which has
become deeply rooted, they are more eager to promulgate it in the world
than to record it by writing in the closet.
The new religion certainly spread extensively all over the vast
continent of Hindustan, and in the course of about three hundred years,
found an enthusiastic and powerful convert in the person of a king
called Asoka, who was reigning when the third convocation of Buddhists
was called, b.c. 307. This ruler was imbued with a missionary spirit,
and under his influence, preachers full of energy went not only
throughout India, but into China, Japan, Ceylon, and apparently into
every country to which ships, caravans, and the flow of commerce gave
them access, including Persia, Babylonia, Syria, Palestine, Egypt, and
the very populous and important emporium Alexandria. We may judge of the
fanaticism of these religious envoys by their success, and we may, as
is often done by Christian missionaries, test the real value of their
doctrine by its endurance, and its adaptability to the religious
wants of the human animal. If missionary success is a test of truth in
religion, Buddhism must be superior to Christianity. Buddah--for his
name is spelled variously--has more followers, according to competent
authorities, than Jesus, and if the depth and earnestness shown by the
converts to the two men could be weighed in impartial scales, we believe
that the preponderance would be in favour of the followers of the Indian
saviour.
We readily allow that Buddhism has not developed in many matters like
Christianity has done. The Buddhism of to-day does not essentially
differ from that in the early ages of the faith; the followers of
Siddartha have not adopted the doctrines of the nations amongst which
they have settled. The Christianity of to-day, on the other hand, is so
widely different from that current in the first century of our era, that
it has been remarked, with great pungency, that if Jesus revisited us
now, he would be denounced as a heretic, and abused as a nonconformist.
His followers soon introduced politics into religion, and adopted the
fables and the doctrines of the Pagans amongst whom they dwelt, merely
changing certain names, and ascribing virtues and miracles to saints,
which the heathen attributed to Apollo, Mars, or Venus. Jesus, though a
Jew, never sacrificed, nor did his apostles, but his followers thought
prudent to filch the practice from the heathen; and, to smooth their
difficulty, they profess to turn bread and wine into flesh and blood,
and offer it up as an oblation upon their ecclesiastical altar. Jesus
knew nothing of purgatory; with him the rich man went direct to hell,
and Lazarus to Abraham's bosom. Modern Christians are wiser than their
teacher; for he disdained the learning of Egypt, his followers took
their purgatory and trinity therefrom. All this shows, that the faith
of Christians in their teacher has not been equal to the unbounded trust
felt by the Buddhist in his master's wisdom. Buddhism, moreover, has
neither taught nor sanctioned any system of persecution. Sakya, it is
true, encouraged men to make themselves miserable upon earth that they
might attain future immunity from woe, but he never ordered them to use
the sword or dragonnades to force other people to do so. The followers
of Jesus, on the other hand, have but too often founded their claim to
a happy immortality on making other men, whom they called heretics,
miserable, as during the period of the crusades against the Saracens,
the Albigenses, the Lollards, and the Waldenses. The Christians in many
ages seemed to argue thus:--As the painful death of Mary's son saved the
world, so I, by torturing a heretic, may save myself. This is an idea
of vicarious atonement which, though prevalent for centuries, has never
been committed to writing by those who hold it. We do not mean to allege
that the opinion referred to cannot be found in history, for it is from
such a source that our assertion comes. A belief, such as we refer to,
was promulgated amongst the Crusaders, and was fostered by the founders
of the Inquisition. Such an idea, too, is embodied in the word--"The
time cometh, that whosoever killeth you will think that he doeth God
service" (John xvi. 2).
We may, however, trace the idea of persecution in the early Christian
Scriptures. Paul, for example, when writing to the Corinthians (1
Epistle v. 3-5) gives such encouragement as he can to those who punish
an erring brother Christian, by delivering him over to Satan for the
destruction of the flesh, that the spirit may be saved in the day of the
Lord Jesus, and in (1st Tim. i. 20), the same author declares,--"I have
delivered Hymenseus and Alexander unto Satan that they may learn not to
blaspheme." The idea being, that by thus acting, both the Corinthians
and Paul were improving their own ecclesiastical condition.
As I may not have another available opportunity for introducing one or
two striking parallels between Sakya Muni and Jesus, I may mention
here that the former is represented as being tempted by and having
conversation with an evil spirit called Mara, Evil one, Destroyer,
Devil, or Papiyan. In one of these confabulations Buddah says,--"I will
soon triumph over you--'desires' are your chief soldiers, then come
idleness, hunger and thirst, passions, sleepy indolence, fears, doubts,
angers, hypocrisy, ambition, the desire to be respected, and to have
renown, praise of yourself and blame for others--these are your black
allies, the soldiers of the burning demon. Your soldiers subjugate gods
and men, but not me, I shall crush them by wisdom, then what will you
do?" (Hilaire, p. 61). The sage is then, not unlike the so-called St.
Anthony, tempted by lovely woman, thirty-two lovely demons (Apsaras)
deploying all their charms. Then follows a third trial, and Mara says
to Siddartha,--"I am the lord of desire, I am the master of the entire
world, the gods, the crowd of Davanas (spirits), men and beasts have
been subjugated by me and are in my power. Like them enter my domains,
rise up and speak like them." Buddha replied,--"If you are the lord of
desire you are not the lord of light. Look at me, I am the lord of the
law, you are powerless, and in your very sight I shall obtain supreme
intelligence," (p. 64, op. cit.). The demon makes one more effort, and
is again conquered, and then retires, tracing with an arrow these words
upon the ground--"My empire has passed away." It may be imagined that
the French author whom I quote is a partisan of the Indian sage; far
from it, he records such tales with regret, for he sees how strong an
influence they must have upon the perfect or imperfect authenticity
of the New Testament and the story of Jesus. The similarity of the two
histories is heightened by the legend before noticed, that Buddha went
to Heaven to convert his mother, whilst Jesus is said to have gone down
to Hades to preach to the spirits in prison, with the implied intention
of converting them to the faith which he preached.
It will doubtless have occurred to anyone reading the preceding pages,
if he be but familiar with the New Testament, that either the Christian
histories called Gospels have been largely influenced by Buddhist's
legends, or that the story of Siddartha has been moulded upon that
of Jesus. The subject is one which demands and deserves the greatest
attention, for if our religion be traceable to Buddhism, as the later
Jewish faith is to the doctrines of Babylonians, Medes, and Persians,
we must modify materially our notions of "inspiration" and "revelation."
Into this inquiry St. Hilaire goes as far as documentary evidence allows
him, and Hardy in _Legends and Theories of the Buddhists_ also enters
upon it in an almost impartial manner. From their conclusions there can
be no reasonable doubt that the story of the life of Sakya Muni, such as
we have described it, certainly existed in writing ninety years before
the birth of Jesus; consequently, if the one life seems to be a copy of
the other, the gospel writers must be regarded as the plagiarists.
In the story of Buddha, we have eliminated the miraculous part, and
exhibited him simply as a remarkable man. Nevertheless, in the writings
of his followers, miracles in abundance are assigned to him. Whether
these existed in the original history Hardy doubts, and his remarks
are so apposite that we reproduce them (op. cit. p. xxviii). "Upon
the circumstances of this first rehearsal (of the life and doctrine of
Siddartha), most important consequences depend. If the miracles ascribed
to Buddha can be proved to have been recorded of him at the time of his
death, this would go far towards proving that the authority to which
he laid claim was his rightful prerogative. They were of too public
character to have been ascribed to him then if they had not taken place;
so that if it was openly declared by his contemporaries, by those who
had lived with him in the same monastery, that he had been repeatedly
visited by Sekra and other Deivas; and that he had walked through the
air and visited the heavenly world in the presence of many thousands,
and those the very persons whom they addressed, we ought to render to
him the homage awarded to him by even his most devoted followers. But
the legend of the early rehearsal has nothing to support it beyond
the assertion of authors who lived at a period long subsequent. The
testimony of contemporaneous history presents no record of any event
that quadrates with the wonderful powers attributed to the 'rahals,'
which would undoubtedly not have been wanting if these events had really
taken place."
The reader of this extract will now naturally turn his attention to the
Christian gospels, and inquire into the time when they were written, and
whether the arguments used by Hardy, for disbelieving the miracles
of Buddha, do not equally disprove the authenticity of the miracles
attributed to Jesus. We can find nowhere, in contemporary history--and
there is an adequate account thereof, both Jewish and Roman--any records
of the wonders said to have been done in Judea by the son of Mary.
Though he was noticed by a certain writer in the Talmud, under the name
of Ben Panther, that book contains no account of the marvellous works
recorded in the gospels, nor any reference to his miraculous power. The
Romans who dwelt in Jerusalem knew nothing of any real miracle, though
Herod is reported to have noticed some gossiping accounts of John's
successor. We do not find a single reference to any of the wonderful
events told in the gospels in any epistle written by those who
"companied with Jesus"--except the assertion that he had risen from the
dead, to be found in 1 Corinthians xv. and elsewhere--whose value is
problematical Still farther, we have tolerably good evidence to show
that the Gospels were written at a time when they could not be tested
by those people in whose presence the wonders were said to have been
wrought. The narrative of John, for example, is, by scholars, supposed
to have been written more than a century, probably one hundred and fifty
years, after the crucifixion, and the others seem to have been composed
for the benefit of those who did not live in, or know Jerusalem and
Judea intimately. They resemble, in almost every respect, the stories
told of such Roman saints as Francis of Assisi, Bernard, Carlo Borromeo,
and Ignatius Loyola, which were always composed long after the death,
and out of the presence of every one of those who could deny or
controvert them. However much, or little, we may credit the biographies
of Buddha and Jesus, we cannot for a moment doubt, that the two
individuals were instrumental in founding forms of religion, which,
by the aid of missionaries, spread over a vast extent of the habitable
globe. Unlike that of Mahomet, the faiths referred to were promulgated
by peaceful persuasion rather than by the sword, and by the power
of eloquence, example, and precept, rather than by the influence of
miracles. If, for the sake of argument, we grant that every specimen
of thaumaturgy which his followers attribute to Jesus is correctly
reported, we must allow also that his power of making converts by
teaching, preaching, and wonder working, was inferior to that of his
followers, who taught, preached, and proselytized without performing
many, if any miracles. If we assert that miraculous powers are necessary
for the establishment and propagation of a new religion, then we must,
to be consistent with ourselves, believe in the thaumaturgy of the
Buddhists, and the divine mission of Sakya Muni. If, on the other hand,
we deny that Siddartha was an incarnate god or saviour, was not divinely
inspired, and performed no real miracle, then it is clear that the
miracles, which Jesus is said to have achieved, were wholly unnecessary,
and not required in any way to upset an old religion, to found a new, or
to spread it when established.
The philosopher may pause here, with profit to himself, and inquire
whether there is, or there are, any new form or forms of religion which
has or have sprung up within his own observation, and if so, whether
it or they has or have been based upon thaumaturgy--and, if one or more
have been so founded, whether one shows evidence of stability.
Few can deny that Mormonism is a form of belief which has a considerable
number of adherents, a body of earnest missionaries, and a laity whose
faith and practice have been sorely tested by hardship. Yet there has
not been a single miracle performed by its prophets. It is reported
that its founder announced that he would perform one in the sight of
all Israel and of the sun, but when the time came he said, that if the
spectators believed that he could do what was promised, that was quite
enough!
Spiritualism, on the other hand, is a new sort of theosophy, ostensibly
founded and supported wholly by thaumaturgy; its disciples have induced
themselves to believe, against their original ideas, that we are not
only surrounded by the spirits of the departed, but that these can be
brought into connection with us by means of certain individuals, called
mediators or mediums--that these have such power, over the invisible
beings hovering in the air, that the souls of the dead may be made to
shake the tables of the living, and lift up their sofas to the ceiling.
The miracles are believed in by many, but Spiritualism lags far behind
the Mormon theology, and probably always will do.
We may regard this part of our subject in yet another light. Let us,
for example, suppose that the Buddhists and the Christians succeed in
persuading each other of the incorrectness of the miraculous element
in their respective books, does it therefore follow, that any essential
part of the creed of either one or other must be altered? The doctrines
of Siddartha would not be valueless even if his followers disbelieved
in his power to fly as a bird, or cross a river on the surface of the
water--nor would those of Mary's son be proved to be worthless if it
were certain that he never marched over a billowy sea, and that he was
not really killed by crucifixion. The disciples of Sakya Muni believed
in a resurrection of the dead, without having had the advantage of
a real or imaginary reappearance of their master after his supposed
decease. The Etruscans, Greeks, and Romans, had all an Elysium to which
the good folk went. The Red Indian believes in a future life and happy
hunting grounds (so we are told), although he has never heard of Judea.
The rude Northmen and Danes had also their Valhalla to go to after
death, long ere they were Christians. Still farther, it is to be
noticed, by the close observer, that the Jews at the time of Jesus, and
some of the Greeks about the same period, were divided in their opinions
respecting the existence of men in a future state. The Sadducees,
holding fast to the books of Moses and the Prophets, denied the
existence of a resurrection, of angels or of spirits. The Pharisees,
on the other hand, influenced apparently by Babylonian and Persian
theology, had faith in all three. That this belief in a future life was
not commonly held by the poor folk in Judea, we infer from Mark ix. 10,
wherein we are told that Peter, James, and John were "questioning
with one another what the rising from the dead should mean." That the
Athenians were equally careless about what is now called "heaven and
hell," we judge from Acts xvii. 18, wherein we are told that Paul's
preaching about "Jesus and the resurrection" was a strange affair, and
from the thirty-second verse of the same chapter, wherein it is said
that the doctrine of the resurrection of Jesus was received with
derision.
I am quite aware that it may be objected to these remarks that the doubt
about the rising from the dead does not point to a general resurrection,
but simply to the return to life of one particular individual. This,
however, only removes the difficulty to a short distance, for Greek
story tells us of the annual return of Proserpine from the realms
of Pluto to the light of day, and Adonis was yearly resuscitated, in
mythical narrative. For the Hebrew, the rising from the dead ought not
to be a wonderful matter. Was it not told in their Scriptures how, when
certain persons were burying a man, the bearers in a fright threw the
corpse into the sepulchre of Elijah, whose bones had such efficacy that
they revived the dead man, who stood on his feet (2 Kings xiii. 21). We
find also, from Mark vi. 16, Luke ix. 9, that Herod had a full belief in
the power of John to rise again from the death to which that monarch had
consigned him. The sceptic may doubt the ability of the two evangelists
to read what was passing through the royal mind when Jesus and his works
were brought before its notice, but he cannot doubt that the writer was
aware that in Herod's time there was a belief in the resurrection of
individuals. Indeed, we find in the verse following that which tells
of the Apostle's bewilderment, Mark ix. 11, a question, "why say the
scribes that Elias must first come?" To which the reply is that the
prophet has come. We are constrained, therefore, to believe that
Jesus was not the first who rose from the dead; nay, even he himself
commissioned his disciples to "cleanse the lepers, and raise the dead"
(Matth. x. 8). What, then, is the value of the arguments that Paul
builds upon the assertion that Christ is "the first fruits of them that
slept."
This being so, we may fairly ask, whence did Mary's son derive the ideas
which he promulgated of a resurrection, and of salvation, and why had
a sophistical writer like Paul to adopt the clumsy contrivance of
asserting that Jesus not only had risen, but that he was the first
individual who had done so, to demonstrate that the dead really did
return again to life? Paul's argument, indeed, shows how little he
knew or had thought upon the subject, for he distinctly preaches a
resurrection of the body, not of the soul, a belief adopted into the
Apostles' creed. Yet, at the very period when the minds of Christians
were thus unformed, the disciples of Buddha, to a man, believed in a
future "Nirvana," in which "there should be no more sorrow nor crying,
neither should there be any more pain, and where all earthly things
should have passed away" (see Rev. xxi. 4). We are not yet in the
position to prove that Mary's son and certain of his followers received
their inspiration from disciples of Siddartha, but there is certainly
a strong presumption in favour of the possibility, much evidence of its
probability, and nothing whatever to disprove it. To this, however, we
will return by and by.
Ere we proceed to examine into the nature of the doctrines of Sakya Muni
and of Jesus, we may cast a glance over the condition of the men whom
they converted. In both instances, it is not too much to say that
they all were "priest-ridden" in the fullest meaning of the term. The
residents in Modern India and Papal Rome, until a short time ago, well
understood what the term signifies; day by day, and almost hour by hour,
there is, or was in these places, some ceremony to be attended, some
prayer to be uttered, some confession to be made, some contribution
to be given to monastery, church, or priest. Penances are, and were
inflicted of the most painful, sometimes of the most disgusting kind.
The last I heard of was in Wales, where a man was ordered to lie down
at the church door as a mat, upon which the faithful were to wipe their
feet. Both in India and Italy, men, women, and children alike are, or
were, taught to regard themselves as the servants, and even slaves of
the hierarchy, and their money is, or was, alienated from wives and
children to swell the coffers of spiritual tyrants. Perpetual terrors of
hell are sounded, until those hearers, whose hearts are impressionable,
are habitually haunted by imaginary horrors, each one of which has to be
bought off by a sort of hush-money paid to the priest, who has invented,
adopted, or described them.
Such was the condition of England and France prior to the Reformation
and the Revolution.
So long as men are debased by their guides, and allow themselves,
with the docility of a well-trained dog, to be ruled, and so long as
tyrannical flamens can wring an ever increasing tax from the people,
there is probably nothing more in the breast of each than a vague
feeling of dislike, or regret, at the existence of such things, which
rarely receives utterance for fear of punishment. But as soon as a
man, more bold than his neighbours, raises a standard of revolt, whose
success appears to be secure, the bulk of the oppressed first sympathize
with, yet fear to join him, then, after watching eagerly the course of
events, and admiring the boldness of men more resolute than themselves,
they timidly make common cause with the reformer, and, if circumstances
favour them, they become enthusiastic. As the news of the mental revolt
swells, the people, tired of oppression, rise in their might and sweep
away the hierarchy, or compel it to abandon its pretensions. Buddha and
Christ were such leaders as we here describe, and such was the course
gone through by their followers. The timid Peter denying Jesus, and yet
afterwards boldly preaching him up, is an example almost too well known
to be quoted.
We are now in a position to inquire into the nature of Siddartha's
teaching.
Premising that his doctrines were collected at least 200 years B. C.,
the first which we notice is one that he not only inculcated by language
but enforced by his abiding example. He taught that the comforts and
pleasures of this life act as fetters, to chain man's spirit to earth;
that day by day they necessitate the cultivation of propensities
and passions more or less bestial in their nature; and that as these
strengthen, so the individual who possessed them would be born again,
after his death, to some form of misery and woe in which he would have
to atone for the human infirmities which he had not conquered. To escape
from the possibility of such an event, Sakya counselled his disciples
to wean themselves, as far as possible, from every sensual passion; to
mortify the body by fasting, so as to make it more readily separable
from the inner man; to renounce all comfort except that of doing good;
and believing in a state of perfect future salvation.
A man, he taught, must abandon everything as valueless compared with the
attainment of salvation or _nirvana_; he must be wholly dependent upon
others for food and raiment; he must take no thought for the morrow, and
live like a bird or lily, laying up no store; for certainly a disciple
of Sakya ought not to undertake any trade or other means of gaining a
livelihood, lest it should ensnare his spirit and tie it down to the
grovelling things of earth.
This was the rule for the very faithful, the infirm believers had a more
lenient code.
If we now turn to the doctrine said to have been taught by Jesus and
his disciples, we shall find a close parallel between it and that of the
Indian teacher. For example, John says (1 Epis. ii. 15,16) "Love not
the world, neither the things that are in the world. If any man love
the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For all that is in the
world, the lust of the flesh and the lust of the eye, and the pride of
life, is not of the Father but is of the world." Paul says (Rom. xii. 2)
"Be not conformed to this world, but be ye transformed by the renewing
of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good and acceptable and
perfect will of God." James also says (ch. iv. 4) "Know ye not that the
friendship of the world is enmity with God; whosoever, therefore,
will be a friend of the world, is the enemy of God." Again, we find in
Matthew xix., Mark x., and Luke xii., the story of a young man who was
possessed of wealth, probably scarcely less than that of Sakya Muni,
and whose life had been conscientiously conducted, according to the
commandments which he knew, and who having heard of Jesus, came to ask
him if there were a more certain way of salvation than the one he was
in. To him the reply is,--"If thou wilt be perfect, go and sell that
thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven,
and come and follow me." In the verses, moreover, which follow, there is
a remark from the same teacher to the effect, that "every one that hath
forsaken houses, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife,
or children, or lands, for my name's sake, shall receive an hundred
fold, and shall inherit everlasting life."
Once again, we find an exact counterpart of Buddha's teaching in the
sermon on the Mount, which is recorded in Matth. vi. 25-34--"I say unto
you, take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat or what ye shall
drink, nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more
than meat, and the body than raiment? Behold the fowls of the air, for
they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns, yet your
heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they?... Why
take ye thought for raiment, consider the lilies of the field... if God
so clothe the grass... shall he not much more clothe you? Therefore
take no thought, saying, what shall we eat, or what shall we drink, or
wherewithal shall we be clothed?... Take therefore no thought for the
morrow... sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof." Other similar
passages might readily be given, but the above suffice to demonstrate
the Buddhistic teaching of the prophet of Nazareth.
Both start from the idea that death, disease, pain, and misery is the
result of sin--and both imagine that sin consists in living and acting
upon the natural wants, necessities, and propensities of human kind.
Both imagine that to be natural is to be vile, and that salvation is to
be attained by resisting every impulse which is common to mankind Man
desires to eat when hungry--this is a weakness to be combated; a mother
loves her babe--this must not be tolerated; a youth covets a damsel in
marriage--this is a snare to draw both down to hell; celibacy must be
enforced. The argument runs thus,--If any one enjoys life he is sure to
fear death, and will certainly pay for his pleasures; but if any one has
the resolution to pass his years on earth in misery like that of hell,
he will be glad to die, and fearless of any place of torment; use has
bred a habit in him and no torture can come amiss.
Some Christian author has ventured to assert "religion never was
designed to make our pleasures less," but he was a conspicuous heretic.
Buddha's doctrine was founded upon the assertion that life is always
short, and that it is not worth a man's while to buy a few years of
enjoyment with myriads of years of agony. Jesus preached that the Jews'
time was short, for they, and most probably all the world besides, were
to be burned up any day within the duration of the generation--what then
was the use of laying up stores of grain, of buying fine clothes, and
keeping wine to get mellow?
Both preachers were equally short sighted and absurd in their teaching,
for if their disciples were to live upon alms, and all repented and
adopted the doctrine, it is clear that all would starve together, and
self immolation by hunger was repugnant to both prophets. If no one made
clothes all must go naked, and indecency was forbidden. If no one was
to lay up money, there would be no one to pay for work, yet toil was
considered to be a duty. If every one was to live from hand to mouth,
who would keep a calf until it became a heifer, or a lamb to become a
sheep?
It is difficult to conceive that two individuals could have worked out
such a scheme of salvation independently, and the minuteness of the
resemblances induces me to believe that Jesus, possibly without knowing
it, first adopted and then promulgated in Judea the doctrines of the
Indian sage.
Following, again, the lead of St. Hilaire (_Le Bouddha, &c_, 1860, pp.
81, et seq.), we find that Siddartha taught 600 years B. C., that death
and all the miseries of mankind were due to the passions, desires, and
sins of man; that all this misery would cease in Nirvana (of which we
shall speak by and by), and that the means to attain to this salvation
is to keep the true faith; to have a correct judgment; to be truthful in
all things, and to hold every false thing in abhorrence; always to act
and to think with a pure and honest mind; to adopt a religious life,
i.e., one that is in no respect worldly, not owing even subsistence
to anything which might be tainted with sin; to practise a careful
and earnest study of the law; to cultivate a good memory, so that all
mistakes in conduct may be remembered if they have occurred, and be
avoided in the future; and frequent meditation, i.e., an abstraction
of the mind from self consciousness, a thinking of nothing, so as
to approximate the soul to Nirvana. These were Buddha's fundamental
verities. It is put more shortly thus,--"Practising no evil, advancing
in the exercise of every virtue, purifying one's self in mind and will,
this is indeed the doctrine of all the Buddhas." _Journal of Royal
Asiatic Society_, vol. xix. p. 473.
We may once more stop to compare the teaching of Siddartha with that
familiar to Christians. Paul says, for example (Rom. v. 12) "As by one
man sin entered into the world, and death by sin; so death passed upon
all men, for that all have sinned;" again, in chap, vi. 23, "the wages of
sin is death;" again, in chap. vii. 5, "when we were in the flesh the
motions of sins... did work in our members to bring forth fruit unto
death;" and again, chap. viii. 6, "to be carnally minded is death; but
to be spiritually minded is life and peace." We may next refer to what
some call the fundamental teaching of Jesus, as enunciated in answer
to the question of the young man "What shall I do that I may inherit
eternal life?" Matthew xix., Mark x., "If thou wilt enter into life,
keep the commandments. Thou shalt do no murder, thou shalt not commit
adultery, thou shalt not steal, thou shalt not bear false witness,
honour thy father and thy mother, and thou shalt love thy neighbour as
thyself." And when the young man asserted that he had done so, all
that he was told to do in addition, was to sell his property, give the
proceeds to the poor, and become a follower of Jesus, who had not where
to lay his head, and to live upon the charity of other people. I must,
however, notice in passing, that the teaching of Jesus is not by
any means so uniform as that of Sakya, for we find the former here
instructing a young man to do no murder, but at a subsequent period,
that of the last supper, Jesus exhorts his disciples, and through them,
possibly, the very man to whom he rehearsed the commandments, thus "He
that hath no sword, let him sell his garment and buy one," (Luke xxii
36). Certainly a direct encouragement to homicide.
For the benefit of the Buddhists a short formula of faith has been
framed, which is to this effect--"Tathagata (another name of Sakya
Muni), in the proper condition, has explained that our present state
is produced by antecedent causes, and the great Sramana, or Ascetic
(another cognomen of Siddartha), has told us how to avoid the effects of
sin. The effects are pain and actual existence, having for their cause
past sins; the cause is the production of suffering: the cessation of
these effects is Nirvana, the teaching of Tathagata, or of the great
Sramana, is the way which leads to Nirvana." The Christian formula runs,
"As in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive." To this
we may compare a Nepaulese saying, "Arise, leave your possession, take
up the law of Buddha, and break asunder the power of death."
In addition to the fundamental maxim given on the preceding page, Sakya
Muni added many others, amongst them, "Thou shalt not kill, thou shalt
not steal, thou shalt not commit adultery, thou shalt not lie, thou
shalt not get drunk;" others are of lighter consequence--"thou shalt
not eat out of due season, thou shalt not watch dances or theatrical
representations, or listen to songs or music, thou shalt abstain from
all ornamentation of dress, &c., and from perfume; thou shalt not have
a large bed, nor ever take gold or silver; thou shalt remain inflexibly
chaste."
To those who desired to become disciples and personal friends of Buddha,
it was ordained that (a) They should only be clothed with rags taken
from the cemeteries, or from heaps of refuse, or found on the high road.
(b) That there should only be three of these vestments, and that each
should be stitched by the wearer, and that they should be covered with
a cloak of yellow wool (c) That the food should be as simple as
possible--a rule adopted by Christian saints, but not by Bishops.
(d) That all should live upon alms and offerings, which should be begged
for, in perfect silence, from house to house, and placed in a vessel
made of wood--a plan adopted by certain Christian mendicant friars.
(e) That only one meal should be taken during the day--a rule to be found in
some Christian monasteries. (f) That no aliments, even the most simple,
should be taken after noon, the rest of the day after this period should
be devoted to teaching and meditation. (g) The faithful should live in
the wilderness or forest, and not in towns or villages. Hence Christian
hermits lived in the deserts of the Thebaid. (h) They should only
shelter themselves under the boughs and leaves of trees. (i) They should
sit with the back supported only by the trunk chosen for refuge.
(j) They should sleep sitting, and not lying down. (k) They should never
change their sitting mat from the place where it was put first. (l) The
disciples should unite together, at least upon one night in the month,
to meditate amongst the tombs upon the instability of human things.
Mendicity, chastity, and asceticism were essential parts of Sakya Muni's
practice, and St. Hilaire (op. cit., p. 87) naively remarks that these
certainly are not the means for making good citizens, though they may
produce good saints.
We may notice, in passing, that the pious followers of Sramana (the one
who mastered his passions) were very much more proper, in our eyes, than
some of the Brahmins, from whom they seceded, inasmuch as the former
wore sufficient garments to cover themselves decently, whilst the
latter, whom the Greeks called "Gymnosophists," went without any more
clothing than the horse or ass. It is also to be noticed that Siddartha
provided a sort of code of laws to be observed by those who wished to
adopt his method of salvation, without becoming altogether "religious."
These consisted in the enforcement of chastity, purity, patience,
courage, contemplation, and knowledge--these were, it was asserted, the
transcendent virtues which would pass man across the river of death.
They would not land him there in life, but whilst these were adopted as
the rule of life, the aspirant was in the right way to attain "Nirvana."
The charity which Sakya Muni ordained was universal, extending even
to what we call the lower animals, and one example is given in which a
disciple cast himself into the sea to save a boat's crew in danger of
death from a storm, whilst another tells of Buddha giving himself as
food to a tigress, who had not sufficient milk for her young ones.
Again, the precept against "lying" included false witness, and all that
we call "bad language," as well as trifling chat, called "badinage,"
"wit," and the like. Persons were not only to avoid wrong, but they
were to cultivate every good habit, or what we designate each "Christian
grace." It was inculcated, that beauty of language, or eloquence,
pleasantness of voice, and a due respect to cadence should be studied,
so as to make their teaching popular, a precept not much regarded
amongst ordinary Christian divines. Beyond other things, humility was
inculcated, not that which exists on the lips only, and is apparently
compatible with the determined endeavour to exercise unlimited power,
which has been conspicuous in the Papacy for a millennium at least, but
that which conceals greatness and demonstrates littleness. Thus there
is a legend of Buddha refusing, at the request of a king, to exhibit any
miracle to convince his opponents, his answer being, "Great king, I do
not teach the law to my hearers by saying to them, 'Go, oh you religious
men! and before Brahmins and house-holders perform, by means of a
supernatural power, miraculous things, which no other men can effect,'
but I say to them, in teaching them the law, 'Live, oh ye pious ones, so as
to conceal your good works, and to let your sins be seen.'"
At this point we pause once more to draw a parallel between Siddartha
and Jesus, though, in the delineation of the doctrine of the latter,
we shall see a discrepancy which appears to indicate two distinct
authorships in the recorded story. We refer, in the first place, to Luke
vi, wherein we find, v. 27, et seq., "Love your enemies, do good to
them which hate you, bless them that curse you, and pray for them which
despitefully use you, and to him that smiteth thee on the one cheek
offer also the other" (compare Matt. v. 39, 40). Again, Matt. vi. 3,
"When thou doest alms, let not thy left hand know what thy right hand
doeth," and in v. 6, "When thou prayest, enter into thy closet," &c.;
v. 16, "When ye fast, be not, as the hypocrites, of a sad countenance."
Side by side with this we may place the directions given in Matt, x.,
where we find that Jesus called his disciples unto him, and gave them
"power against unclean spirits to cast them out, and to heal all manner
of sickness and all manner of disease "--they were, moreover, "to
cleanse the lepers and raise the dead," i.e.t the disciples were to
perform miracles; but if they, in their wanderings and teachings, should
be rejected, despised, or affronted, the apostles were to shake off the
dust of their feet against the persecutors, being certain that condign
punishment would fall upon the offenders.
It is curious that in the histories of the Indian and the Jew, there
should be analogous discrepancies between records of their sayings and
doings. Siddartha and Jesus are represented, each of them, as declining
to perform miracles when asked or expected to do so. Nevertheless, in
the same histories we find marvellous accounts of the wonders which they
performed. We have seen the clashing reports of Buddha, the following
reports of the son of Mary are equally discordant. To make the
dissonance more striking, we place the passages in parallel columns.
[Illustration: 141]
At what time after the death of Jesus the miracles recorded of him were
fabricated we can scarcely tell. If, with most critical scholars, we
believe that John's Gospel was written by some Neoplatonic Greek, at
least a century and a-half after the period alluded to, we must also
believe, either that all the legends about the casting out of devils by
the son of Mary were invented after the time when "John" lived, or else,
which is probable, that the last evangelist gave no credit to them, if
they did already exist; and if the good sense and superior knowledge of
"John" led him to discredit the tale about the legion of devils, which
left one man* to enter into about two thousand pigs, I do not see that
other Christians are obliged to believe the legend. From considerations
which we advanced in the articles Prophets, Prophecy, &c., in _Ancient
Faiths_ (Vol. II., p. 515), and especially in the history of Barcochab,
who was supposed to be the Messiah by some Jews in A.D. 131-5, we argued
that new matter was certainly introduced into the story of Jesus told by
Matthew, Mark, and John, as late as the era of that enthusiastic Hebrew
leader. We noticed the doubts that existed in the minds of many early
Christians as to whether this redoubtable warrior was not "the man"
of whom the prophets spake. We may now still further notice that
he professed to perform miracles, which appear to be thoroughly
contemptible when weighed against those of the gospels. To our mind
it is inconceivable that the followers of Mary's son could have been
acquainted with the marvellous works attributed to Jesus in the gospels,
and, yet be shaken by such a man as Barcochab. We notice, also, that not
one "Epistle" writer refers to them--consequently, we believe that
all the wondrous tales told of the prophet of Nazareth, must have been
introduced after the time of Hadrian (in whose reign Barcochab was
destroyed), and were fabricated by pious Christians, to prove that the
Messiah, in whom they believed, was infinitely superior to that warrior
whom others had for a time trusted. Both, to be sure, had been killed by
the Romans, and thus both might seem upon a par, but if history could
be cooked--and there is probably no single history existing which is
strictly true--to show that the first performed a hundred times the
wonderful works of the second, he would thus become greatly exalted. See
especially Matt. xxiv. 24, in confirmation of this view. Be this as it
may, there is, I understand, solid foundation for the assertion that
the New Testament, such as we have it now, might have been composed,
altered, curtailed, added to, remodelled, or otherwise fashioned, at
any period between the years a.d. 50 and 300, after which change was
difficult, though we cannot say impossible. A corresponding statement is
true of the books which record the life and doctrines of Buddha.
* In Matthew viii. 30-32, we are told that there were two
men who were possessed with the devils which subsequently
entered the herd of swine;--in Mark v. 11-13, the spirits
are represented as being concentrated in one person, and in
Luke viii. 32-33, the tale appears in the same guise as in
Mark--only the man is made to call himself "Legion," on
account of the multitude of devils living inside him. In
cases of this kind one need not be rigidly particular, for
it signifies little whether the spirits were one thousand in
one man or two thousand in two--the wonder is that spirits
could talk--fly away from man to pig, or commit suicide in
the bodies of the swine when they might have done the same
thing in one or two men. It is clear from the miracle that
certain devils change their habits when they take up their
habitation in porcine instead of human beings.
At this period of our parallel we may profitably examine the New
Testament, and ascertain whether we cannot extract from it a tolerably
fair account of the life and teaching of Jesus, without including
therein a single act of thaumaturgy. We fearlessly assert, not only that
we can, but that the miracles are not an essential part of his doctrine.
For example, we learn that Jesus was the son of a woman betrothed to a
carpenter, who became pregnant ere yet the ceremony of marriage was gone
through. Her affianced husband did not make her frailty an excuse for
annulling the contract, possibly for a good, and to him a sufficient
reason. He married the already fruitful Mary, and her child passed
amongst the neighbours as being the son of Joseph. This we learn from
Matt. xiii. 55, where we find the people saying, "Is not this the
carpenter's son? is not his mother called Mary? and his brethren James,
and Joses, and Simon, and Judas, and his sisters, are they not all
with us?" a statement repeated in similar terms, Mark vi. 3. This short
account is important, since it completely destroys the papal doctrine
that Mary was "ever virgin," for she bore at least four other sons
than her first born, and two daughters. At no period was Jesus regarded
either by the family or by the neighbours as illegitimate, nor is there
any reason to believe that Joseph looked upon him otherwise than as his
own son. Indeed, in Luke ii. 42-48, the carpenter distinctly appears to
act as if he recognized Jesus as his own offspring--in verse 48, Mary
says, "Son, why hast thou thus dealt with us? behold thy father and I
have sought thee sorrowing," asserting as plainly as words could speak,
that Joseph had begotten Jesus. It is true that the youth replied, "Wist
ye not that I must be about my father's business?" but the story adds
the important information, that the couple did not understand the
saying.
It is clear to us, that if the legend of the impregnation of Mary by the
Holy Ghost, after that event had been previously announced to her, and
if, as we are told in Matt. i. 20, Joseph had been informed by "the
angel of the Lord" that the foetus in Mary's womb was begotten by the
Holy Ghost, it would not have been possible for Joseph and his wife
to have misunderstood the words of Jesus. The very wonder which they
expressed demonstrates the belief of the parents that there was nothing
unusual in the conception. The father Joseph knew that he had borne his
share in the event, and Mary knew that she had not conversed with any
other man; consequently, for her son to indicate another father than
Joseph, naturally mystified her. We therefore cannot allow the assertion
to pass, that the conception and birth of Jesus was in itself a miracle.
But as we shall revert to the subject in a separate chapter, we will say
no more about it here.
After living and working with his parents for some years, Jesus was
attracted by the preaching of his cousin John, whose doctrines were
essentially Buddhistic and Essenian. Like the Hindoos, he used water as
an emblem of purification, and urged his hearers to repentance and good
conduct. What motives urged John to become "the voice of one crying in
the wilderness," we have no means of judging, but the gospel narratives
tell us that he, like Jesus, believed in the almost immediate
destruction of the world. His text was, "Repent, for the kingdom of
heaven is at hand." Jesus adopted the view, and promulgated it more
extensively. His text was the same as that of his cousin, but more
expanded. "The kingdom of heaven means glory to the righteous, and
everlasting life; misery and everlasting destruction to the wicked.
The time is near, hasten to escape from the coming vengeance."
The earnestness of Jesus, his acquaintance with the prophets, his
self-denial and his constant kindness, endeared him to the common
people. The same virtues had a like effect in the case of Buddha.
Amongst villagers and poverty-stricken fishermen he soon won his way,
and every one had some story to tell of him, which increased in wonder
as it passed from mouth to ears, and from these to the tongue of the
listeners. Those who know how an ordinary circumstance may gradually
become described as miraculous, even in England, can well imagine how
the miracles of Jesus and Siddartha were produced.
In time Jesus endeavoured to induce the magnates of Jerusalem to adopt
his doctrine, and to trust in repentance for salvation rather than in
sacrifice, but the enthusiast could not overcome the ritualists, and
they at once began to weigh their power against the influence of
Jesus upon the multitude. After a time the priests were convinced that
supremacy rested with them, and the man who preached a religion of the
heart, was sacrificed by the adherents of ceremonial. Such a fight is
common, as we see around us. The Evangelicals and the Ritualists of
to-day, resemble the followers of Jesus and of Moses. When the latter
appeared in the guise of powerful Romanist rulers, they put down the
former, but now when the former are the strongest, they endeavour to
depress the latter.
After the death, or the withdrawal of Jesus from public life--for we
have no belief in the legends of his resurrection--considering that
his apparent decease was a prolonged fainting fit, for had he been dead
blood would not have followed a spear wound as it did--the disciples of
Jesus spread his fame largely. Whilst Jesus was with them they clung
to him; when he was no more, each man became a preacher, and then
Christianity spread until it met with Buddhism in Egypt, and thus became
developed in a peculiar direction. Then came the gospels, which made
Jesus a second Sakya. Although we can readily conceive that Jesus, like
his paltry successor, Joe Smith, the Mormon, captivated the minds of
hundreds without performing any supernatural deed, and that his "elders"
vastly increased the number of those who believed in him, yet it is
clear, that ancient and modern theologians were and are anxious to
establish the reality of the thaumaturgy attributed to Jesus, that
they may appeal to it to demonstrate that he was the son of God, an
incarnation of a portion of the creative mind--"the word," or _logos_,
having the same relationship to Jehovah, the "I Am," the Self-Existent
One, as Buddha, "the understanding" had to "Brahma," The Supreme One.
Accepting this issue for the sake of argument, we affirm once again
that, as the miracles of Sakya and of the son of Mary are equally
unreliable, or equally true, Buddha was as much a true son of God as
Christ was, or that Jesus was no more an incarnation of Jehovah, than
Siddartha was of Brahma. Jehovah and Brahma being merely different names
for the same great Being. That miracles are not necessary to the spread
of a new faith, the history of modern Presbyterianism and Mormonism
distinctly proves. For further remarks, we refer the reader to
the article Miracle in the preceding volume. We will postpone to a
subsequent page what we have to say respecting the asceticism of the
Buddhists, and that which was prevalent in the early Christian church.
For the present, we resume our account of Sakya Muni's teaching as
described by St. Hilaire.
Founded upon his doctrine of absolute humility, he established the
custom of confession amongst his apostles or disciples, and amongst
those who venerated his teaching, though they did not' become his
immediate followers. This confession was not that simply auricular one
enforced by Ritualists, but it was made twice a month, at the new and
the full moon, before the great Sramana and the congregation, in a clear
voice. Powerful kings are reported to have followed this practice.
It will not require more than a minute's reflection to see that the
Buddhistic system of confession was far superior--as regards the end
in view--than that which has been adopted by Romanists and Ritualists.
Sakya and James (ch. v. 16) advised the practice in question, that
the sinner might be humiliated in his own eyes, and deterred from the
necessity of having again to acknowledge a fall from virtue before a
congregation of the faithful. Popes and Protestant Ritualists, on the
contrary, use confession for the purpose of inquiring into the character
of every penitent, and the practice is adopted by the sinner, not with
the view of repentance, but to wipe out periodically a sin which is
habitually renewed.
If confessions were made before a congregation, instead of to a priest
in a closet, or some other secret spot, there would not then be current
so many scandalous stories as there are--too true, alas, in many
instances--respecting women who have been debauched under the guise
of religion, and priests who have prostituted the ordinances of their
church, until they have made them pander to vice, and act as seeds to
produce immorality.
Though personally Tathagata preached celibacy, he had not, like some of
the so-called saints of Christianity, any feeling of disrespect towards
family ties. He always spoke affectionately of his mother, though he
never knew her, and the legends say that he endeavoured to convert her
in heaven. His command that all his followers should honour their father
and mother was repeatedly enforced, that being only second to the duty
of learning, venerating, and keeping the law. It even went so high as to
include endeavours to teach the parents if they were ignorant.
One of the main duties of every teacher appointed by Siddartha, was to
go about preaching the law, and exhorting his hearers to learn and to
obey it. But no one, on any account, was to introduce the persecuting
element. No respect whatever was to be paid to caste, all being alike
human before God. Buddha himself is described as a very striking
preacher, charming his hearers by his clear and eloquent diction,
astonishing them by his supernatural power, sometimes instructing the
common folk with ingenious parables, and inciting them to emulation by
telling what others had done. He referred to the sins which had been
committed in former days by an ancient people, and how severely punished
those who had committed them had been, or still were, and he even
recorded his own faults, that others might learn to avoid them. He urged
all his hearers to cultivate truth and reason, which is certainly not a
Christian practice, and not blindly to obey their spiritual guides, as
the modern faithful are taught to do. By making the practice of every
virtue the sole means for attaining eternal salvation, he practically
discouraged vice, but it does not appear that he endeavoured actively
to denounce immorality, sin, or sinners. He did not, like many modern
persons, "compound for sins they are inclined to, by damning those they
have no mind to." It is distinctly declared that it was not necessary
for ordinary followers of Buddha to become what is called "religious,"
or "to enter into religion," as friars, monks, &c. To those who
preferred an ordinary mode of life, instructions were given, that they
should cultivate charity, purity, patience, courage, contemplation, and
knowledge. Indeed, we may assert that the precepts of Jesus, as
recorded in Matthew v., vi, and viii, and in Luke iii. 7 to 14, are not
essentially different from those propounded by Sakya Muni Neither the
one nor the other ordered or even recommended all men to be celibate,
all men to become poor, all soldiers to leave their profession--but
both urged upon every one who wished for salvation, to be kind, pure,
patient, courageous, thoughtful and eager after all knowledge. It would
be well if those calling themselves Christians would endeavour more
fully to understand that cultivating science is the same as advancing in
the knowledge of God.
Some of the remarkable parables found in Buddhist books are very
probably the original ones of Sakya; they are certainly ingeniously
framed to illustrate his doctrine. Nor is there wanting, indeed, one
in which there is an episode resembling the story of the thief upon
the cross. It is of a lovely courtesan who falls deeply in love with
a jeweller, young, and a devoted follower of Buddha, and solicits his
company. To every message she sends him, he returns the answer "it
is not time for you to see me." At length she commits a crime, and is
sentenced to have ears, nose, hands, and feet cut off, and to be carried
to the graveyard to die, leaving the cut off members at her ankles. At
this period the young man visits her, to see the true nature of those
joys which drown men in perdition; then he consoles the poor creature by
teaching her the law; his discourse brings calm into her breast, and she
dies in professing Buddhism with a certainty that she will rise again
amongst the good.
We may mention, in passing, that there were female Buddhists as well as
males, both being on the same footing. The law, as announced by Sakya,
equally concerned and affected the two sexes.
Another and very interesting parable tells of a king who came before
a Buddhist priest and his assembled hearers, to the number of 350, to
confess his crimes, amongst others murder, and his resolution to avoid
all faults in future, and Bhagavat (the teacher's name) at once remits,
in conformity with the law, the faults of the king, which have thus
been expiated before a numerous assembly of the faithful, a remarkable
instance of remorse, repentance, confession, and remission of sin--some
centuries before Jesus was born.
At length a powerful king, Asoka, was converted to the new faith, or
came to the throne already a Buddhist, in the year b.c. 263, and reigned
thirty-seven years, during which time he devoted himself to spreading
the religion of his choice. He sent out a cloud of earnest missionaries
who spread themselves over Hindostan, Ceylon, China, Japan, and Thibet.
Indeed, they seem to have gone wherever there was means of locomotion,
or a knowledge of the existence of a people. As the Greeks were
then certainly trading with India, both by land and sea, it would be
surprising if the Buddhist missionaries had not accompanied the merchant
ships, or the overland convoys to Alexandria. But this subject, it is
convenient for the present to postpone.
There are two points connected with the teaching of Sakya Muni to
which many Christian writers have especially addressed their remarks,
apparently with the view of rendering Buddha more or less contemptible,
or at least of degrading him far below Jesus of Nazareth. It is asserted
that Siddartha did not believe in a god, and that his Nirvana was
nothing more than absolute annihilation. To these I am disposed to
add, that the Buddhists were not taught to pray, nor did their founder
practise the custom.
To my own mind, the assertion that Sakya did not believe in God is
wholly unsupported. Nay, his whole scheme is built upon the belief that
there are powers above which are capable of punishing mankind for their
sins. It is true that these "gods" were not called Elohim, nor Jah,
nor Jahveh, nor Jehovah, nor Adonai, nor Eliieh (I am), nor Baalim,
nor Ashtoreth--yet, for "the son of Suddhodana" (another name for Sakya
Muni, for he has almost as many, if not more than the western god),
there was a supreme being called Brahma, or some other name representing
the same idea as we entertain of the Omnipotent. Still further, in the
life of Buddha, quoted by St. Hilaire (p. 9) we find the following as
part of the thoughts of the young Siddartha--"The three worlds, the
world of the gods, the world of the assours (the benighted ones, or, as
we should call them, 'the devils ), and that of men, are all plagued
by the occurrence of old age and disease." We do not, for we dare not
assert that this opinion is identical with ours; but we are equally
indisposed to say that the opinions current amongst ourselves are
absolutely true.
Men living in future days, and whose minds are educated, will probably
declare, "that the Christians of Europe and elsewhere, for nearly two
thousand years, had no god but the devil They said he was good, but
they painted him as one who rejoiced in pain, lamentation, mourning, and
woe." Buddha preached that man suffered from the effects of his
sins, and that unless he attained salvation, he would be punished
everlastingly. The son of Mary, and all his followers, taught, and
Christians still entertain the belief, that man suffers from the sin of
a progenitor (assumed to be the parent of all mankind), and that each
person will be tortured throughout eternity unless he is able to mollify
his maker, who is also his judge. Both teachers had necessarily an idea
of a power able to make laws for the conduct of human life, to ordain
rewards for good behaviour, and to apportion punishment for offences,
and yet who was sufficiently forgiving to cease from requital, "for a
consideration," the bribe being invariably a bloody one. Jesus called
this power "my Father," Siddartha called him Brahma, the Supreme one.
Jesus and his followers have asserted that the power of the son with
"the Father" is so great, that the latter will conform to the former,
nay, he even asserts his identity with the Supreme in the words "I and
my father are one," (John x. 30). See also Acts iv. 12, and 1 Thess. v.
9, in which it is distinctly affirmed that Jesus is the sole means by
which man can attain salvation, or, in other words, turn away the
wrath of God and change it into love. But Jesus could only rise to the
position of equal or prime favourite by a very sanguinary process, as we
find from Heb. ix. 22, that there could be no remission of sin without
shedding of blood. From the following verses, and from Heb. x. 19, we
learn that it is by the sacrifice of himself that Jesus entered into his
heavenly powers.
Can any one who depicts the gods of savages, of Grecians and others
to whom human beings were immolated in hundreds, call such deities
"devils," and then assert that the Jehovah, whom he extols as above all
gods, is not painted by men in the same colours. Siddartha's god was
not a sanguinary one, nor did Buddha always talk of shedding blood, or
profess to give his disciples his own flesh to eat, and his blood to
them, that they might all drink of it.
The way in which this Supreme One, Brahma, was painted at his time was
accepted by Sakya as he found it. He no more questioned the accepted
truths of Hindooism, than Jesus doubted about the absolute truth of
the Hebrew scriptures. But, in his own mind, after he had contemplated
deeply on the subject, he believed that the discovery which he had made
of the way to Nirvana, universal knowledge, or whatever else Nirvana
was, had raised him above Sakra Brahma, Mahesvara, and all the gods of
the pantheon.
Instead of breaking into expressions respecting the insanity or the
blasphemy of such an idea, let us school ourselves into calmness, and
turn to our own New Testament and read over Philippians, chap, ii. vv.
5-11, "Let this mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus, who being
in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God, but
made himself of no reputation, and took upon him the form of a servant,
and was made in the likeness of men, and being found in fashion as a
man, he humbled himself, and became obedient unto death, even the death
of the cross: wherefore God hath highly exalted him, and given him a
name which is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee
should bow, of things in heaven, and things in earth and things under
the earth, and that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is
Lord to the glory of God the Father."
Still further, I have repeatedly heard Protestant Christian divines
assert that Jesus was really "Lord of the world above," and I cannot see
any greater insanity or blasphemy in the son of Suddodana believing that
he was at least equal with God, than in the son of Mary asserting "I and
my Father are one" (John x. 30), and when reproached for making himself
thus equal with God, he is reported to have remonstrated with his
auditors who accused him of blasphemy because he asserted himself to be
the son of God. The creeds of the Anglican and Roman churches repeatedly
declare the identity of Jesus with Jehovah, e.g., "equal to the Father
as touching his godhead."