Chapter IV.

Buddhism, or the Protestantism of the East.

§ 1. Buddhism, in its Forms, resembles Romanism; in its Spirit,

Protestantism.

§ 2. Extent of Buddhism. Its Scriptures.

§ 3. Sakyamuni, the Founder of Buddhism.

§ 4. Leading Doctrines of Buddhism.

§ 5. The Spirit of Buddhism Rational and Humane.

§ 6. Buddhism as a Religion.

§ 7. Karma and Nirvana.

§ 8. Good and Evil of Buddhism.

§ 9. Relation of Buddhism to Christianity.

§ 1. Buddhism, in its Forms, resembles Romanism; in its Spirit,

Protestantism.

On first becoming acquainted with the mighty and ancient religion of

Buddha, one may be tempted to deny the correctness of this title, "The

_Protestantism_ of the East." One might say, "Why not rather the

_Romanism_ of the East?" For so numerous are the resemblances between the

customs of this system and those of the Romish Church, that the first

Catholic missionaries who encountered the priests of Buddha were

confounded, and thought that Satan had been mocking their sacred rites.

Father Bury, a Portuguese missionary,[92] when he beheld the Chinese

bonzes tonsured, using rosaries, praying in an unknown tongue, and

kneeling before images, exclaimed in astonishment: "There is not a piece

of dress, not a sacerdotal function, not a ceremony of the court of Rome,

which the Devil has not copied in this country." Mr. Davis (Transactions

of the Royal Asiatic Society, II. 491) speaks of "the celibacy of the

Buddhist clergy, and the monastic life of the societies of both sexes; to

which might be added their strings of beads, their manner of chanting

prayers, their incense, and their candles." Mr. Medhurst ("China," London,

1857) mentions the image of a virgin, called the "queen of heaven,"

having an infant in her arms, and holding a cross. Confession of sins is

regularly practised. Father Huc, in his "Recollections of a Journey in

Tartary, Thibet, and China," (Hazlitt's translation), says: "The cross,

the mitre, the dalmatica, the cope, which the grand lamas wear on their

journeys, or when they are performing some ceremony out of the

temple,--the service with double choirs, the psalmody, the exorcisms, the

censer suspended from five chains, and which you can open or close at

pleasure,--the benedictions given by the lamas by extending the right hand

over the heads of the faithful,--the chaplet, ecclesiastical celibacy,

religious retirement, the worship of the saints, the fasts, the

processions, the litanies, the holy water,--all these are analogies

between the Buddhists and ourselves." And in Thibet there is also a Dalai

Lama, who is a sort of Buddhist pope. Such numerous and striking analogies

are difficult to explain. After the simple theory "que le diable y était

pour beaucoup" was abandoned, the next opinion held by the Jesuit

missionaries was that the Buddhists had copied these customs from

Nestorian missionaries, who are known to have penetrated early even as far

as China.[93] But a serious objection to this theory is that Buddhism is

at least five hundred years older than Christianity, and that many of

these striking resemblances belong to its earliest period. Thus Wilson

(Hindu Drama) has translated plays written before the Christian era, in

which Buddhist monks appear as mendicants. The worship of relics is quite

as ancient. Fergusson[94] describes topes, or shrines for relics, of very

great antiquity, existing in India, Ceylon, Birmah, and Java. Many of them

belong to the age of Asoka, the great Buddhist emperor, who ruled all

India B.C. 250, and in whose reign Buddhism became the religion of the

state, and held its third Œcumenical Council.

The ancient Buddhist architecture is very singular, and often very

beautiful. It consists of topes, rock-cut temples, and monasteries. Some

of the topes are monolithic columns, more than forty feet high, with

ornamented capitals. Some are immense domes of brick and stone, containing

sacred relics. The tooth of Buddha was once preserved in a magnificent

shrine in India, but was conveyed to Ceyion A.D. 311, where it still

remains an object of universal reverence. It is a piece of ivory or bone

two inches long, and is kept in six cases, the largest of which, of solid

silver, is five feet high. The other cases are inlaid with rubies and

precious stones.[95] Besides this, Ceylon possesses the "left collar-bone

relic," contained in a bell-shaped tope, fifty feet high, and the thorax

bone, which was placed in a tope built by a Hindoo Raja, B.C. 250, beside

which two others were subsequently erected, the last being eighty cubits

high. The Sanchi tope, the finest in India,[96] is a solid dome of stone,

one hundred and six feet in diameter and forty-two feet high, with a

basement and terrace, having a colonnade, now fallen, of sixty pillars,

with richly carved stone railing and gateway.

The rock-cut temples of the Buddhists are very ancient, and are numerous

in India. Mr. Fergusson, who has made a special personal study of these

monuments, believes that more than nine hundred still remain, most of them

within the Bombay presidency. Of these, many date back two centuries

before our era. In form they singularly resemble the earliest Roman

Catholic churches. Excavated out of the solid rock, they have a nave and

side aisles, terminating in an apse or semi-dome, round which the aisle is

carried. One at Karli, built in this manner, is one hundred and twenty-six

feet long and forty-five wide, with fifteen richly carved columns on each

side, separating the nave from the aisles. The facade of this temple is

also richly ornamented, and has a great open window for lighting the

interior, beneath an elegant gallery or rood-loft.

The Buddhist rock-cut monasteries in India are also numerous, though long

since deserted. Between seven and eight hundred are known to exist, most

of them having been excavated between B.C. 200 and A.D. 500. Buddhist

monks, then as now, took the same three vows of celibacy, poverty, and

obedience, which are taken by the members of all the Catholic orders. In

addition to this, _all_ the Buddhist priests are mendicants. They shave

their heads, wear a friar's robe tied round the waist with a rope, and beg

from house to house, carrying their wooden bowl in which to receive boiled

rice. The old monasteries of India contain chapels and cells for the

monks. The largest, however, had accommodation for only thirty or forty;

while at the present time a single monastery in Thibet, visited by MM. Huc

and Gabet (the lamasery of Kounboum), is occupied by four thousand lamas.

The structure of these monasteries shows clearly that the monkish system

of the Buddhists is far too ancient to have been copied from the

Christians.

Is, then, the reverse true? Did the Catholic Christians derive their

monastic institutions, their bells, their rosary, their tonsure, their

incense, their mitre and cope, their worship of relics, their custom of

confession, etc., from the Buddhists? Such is the opinion of Mr. Prinsep

(Thibet, Tartary, and Mongolia, 1852) and of Lassen (Indische

Alterthumskunde). But, in reply to this view, Mr. Hardwicke objects that

we do not find in history any trace of such an influence. Possibly,

therefore, the resemblances may be the result of common human tendencies

working out, independently, the same results. If, however, it is necessary

to assume that either religion copied from the other, the Buddhists may

claim originality, on the ground of antiquity.

But, however this may he, the question returns, Why call Buddhism the

Protestantism of the East, when all its external features so much resemble

those of the Roman Catholic Church?

We answer: Because deeper and more essential relations connect Brahmanism

with the Romish Church, and the Buddhist system with Protestantism. The

human mind in Asia went through the same course of experience, afterward

repeated in Europe. It protested, in the interest of humanity, against

the oppression of a priestly caste. Brahmanism, like the Church of Rome,

established a system of sacramental salvation in the hands of a sacred

order. Buddhism, like Protestantism, revolted, and established a doctrine

of individual salvation based on personal character. Brahmanism, like the

Church of Rome, teaches an exclusive spiritualism, glorifying penances and

martyrdom, and considers the body the enemy of the soul. But Buddhism and

Protestantism accept nature and its laws, and make a religion of humanity

as well as of devotion. To such broad statements numerous exceptions may

doubtless be always found, but these are the large lines of distinction.

The Roman Catholic Church and Brahmanism place the essence of religion in

sacrifices. Each is eminently a sacrificial system. The daily sacrifice of

the mass is the central feature of the Romish Church. So Brahmanism is a

system of sacrifices. But Protestantism and Buddhism save the soul by

teaching. In the Church of Rome the sermon is subordinate to the mass; in

Protestantism and in Buddhism sermons are the main instruments by which

souls are saved. Brahmanism is a system of inflexible castes; the priestly

caste is made distinct and supreme; and in Romanism the priesthood almost

constitutes the church. In Buddhism and Protestantism the laity regain

their rights. Therefore, notwithstanding the external resemblance of

Buddhist rites and ceremonies to those of the Roman Catholic Church, the

internal resemblance is to Protestantism. Buddhism in Asia, like

Protestantism in Europe, is a revolt of nature against spirit, of humanity

against caste, of individual freedom against the despotism of an order, of

salvation by faith against salvation by sacraments. And as all revolts are

apt to go too far, so it has been with Buddhism. In asserting the rights

of nature against the tyranny of spirit, Buddhism has lost God. There is

in Buddhism neither creation nor Creator. Its tracts say: "The rising of

the world is a natural case." "Its rising and perishing are by nature

itself." "It is natural that the world should rise and perish."[97] While

in Brahmanism absolute spirit is the only reality, and this world is an

illusion, the Buddhists know only this world, and the eternal world is so

entirely unknown as to be equivalent to nullity. But yet, as no revolt,

however radical, gives up _all_ its antecedents, so Buddhism has the same

_aim_ as Brahmanism, namely, to escape from the vicissitudes of time into

the absolute rest of eternity. They agree as to the object of existence;

they differ as to the method of reaching it. The Brahman and the Roman

Catholic think that eternal rest is to be obtained by intellectual

submission, by passive reception of what is taught us and done for us by

others: the Buddhist and Protestant believe it must be accomplished by an

intelligent and free obedience to Divine laws. Mr. Hodgson, who has long

studied the features of this religion in Nepaul, says: "The one infallible

diagnostic of Buddhism is a belief in the infinite capacity of the human

intellect." The name of Buddha means the Intelligent One, or the one who

is wide awake. And herein also is another resemblance to Protestantism,

which emphasizes so strongly the value of free thought and the seeking

after truth. In Judaism we find two spiritual powers,--the prophet and the

priest. The priest is the organ of the pardoning and saving love of God;

the prophet, of his inspiring truth. In the European Reformation, the

prophet revolting against the priest founded Protestantism; in the Asiatic

Reformation he founded Buddhism. Finally, Brahmanism and the Roman

Catholic Church are more religious; Buddhism and Protestant Christianity,

more moral. Such, sketched in broad outline, is the justification for the

title of this chapter; but we shall be more convinced of its accuracy

after looking more closely into the resemblances above indicated between

the religious ceremonies of the East and West.

These resemblances are chiefly between the Buddhists and the monastic

orders of the Church of Rome. Now it is a fact, but one which has never

been sufficiently noticed, that the whole monastic system of Rome is based

on a principle foreign to the essential ideas of that church. The

fundamental doctrine of Rome is that of salvation by sacraments. This

alone justifies its maxim, that "out of communion with the Church there is

no salvation." The sacrament of Baptism regenerates the soul; the

sacrament of Penance purifies it from mortal sin; the sacrament of the

Eucharist renews its life; and that of Holy Orders qualifies the priest

for administering these and the other sacraments. But if the soul is saved

by sacraments, duly administered and received, why go into a religious

order to save the soul? Why seek by special acts of piety, self-denial,

and separation from the world that which comes sufficiently through the

usual sacraments of the church? The more we examine this subject, the more

we shall see that the whole monastic system of the Church of Rome is an

_included Protestantism_, or a Protestantism within the church.

Many of the reformers before the Reformation were monks. Savonarola, St.

Bernard, Luther himself, were monks. From the monasteries came many of the

leaders of the Reformation. The Protestant element in the Romish Church

was shut up in monasteries during many centuries, and remained there as a

foreign substance, an alien element included in the vast body. When a

bullet, or other foreign substance, is lodged in the flesh, the vital

powers go to work and build up a little wall around it, and shut it in. So

when Catholics came who were not satisfied with a merely sacramental

salvation, and longed for a higher life, the sagacity of the Church put

them together in convents, and kept them by themselves, where they could

do no harm. One of the curious homologons of history is this repetition in

Europe of the course of events in Asia. Buddhism was, for many centuries,

tolerated in India in the same way. It took the form of a monasticism

included in Brahmanism, and remained a part of the Hindoo religion. And

so, when the crisis came and the conflict began, this Hindoo Protestantism

maintained itself for a long time in India, as Lutheranism continued for a

century in Italy, Spain, and Austria. But it was at last driven out of its

birthplace, as Protestantism was driven from Italy and Spain; and now only

the ruins of its topes, its temples, and its monasteries remain to show

how extensive was its former influence in the midst of Brahmanism.

§ 2. Extent of Buddhism. Its Scriptures.

Yet, though expelled from India, and unable to maintain its control over

any Aryan race, it has exhibited a powerful propagandist element, and so

has converted to its creed the majority of the Mongol nations. It embraces

nearly or quite (for statistics here are only guesswork)[98] three hundred

millions of human beings. It is the popular religion of China; the state

religion of Thibet, and of the Birman Empire; it is the religion of Japan,

Siam, Anam, Assam, Nepaul, Ceylon, in short, of nearly the whole of

Eastern Asia.

Concerning this vast religion we have had, until recently, very few means

of information. But, during the last quarter of a century, so many sources

have been opened, that at present we can easily study it in its original

features and its subsequent development. The sacred books of this religion

have been preserved independently, in Ceylon, Nepaul, China, and Thibet.

Mr. G. Turnour, Mr. Georgely, and Mr. R. Spence Hardy are our chief

authorities in regard to the Pitikas, or the Scriptures in the Pali

language, preserved in Ceylon. Mr. Hodgson has collected and studied the

Sanskrit Scriptures, found in Nepaul. In 1825 he transmitted to the

Asiatic Society in Bengal sixty works in Sanskrit, and two hundred and

fifty in the language of Thibet. M. Csoma, an Hungarian physician,

discovered in the Buddhist monasteries of Thibet an immense collection of

sacred books, which had been translated from the Sanskrit works previously

studied by Mr. Hodgson. In 1829 M. Schmidt found the same works in the

Mongolian. M. Stanislas Julien, an eminent student of the Chinese, has

also translated works on Buddhism from that language, which ascend to the

year 76 of our era.[99] More recently inscriptions cut upon rocks,

columns, and other monuments in Northern India, have been transcribed and

translated. Mr. James Prinsep deciphered these inscriptions, and found

them to be in the ancient language of the province of Magadha where

Buddhism first appeared. They contain the decrees of a king, or raja,

named Pyadasi, whom Mr. Turnour has shown to be the same as the famous

Asoka, before alluded to. This king appears to have come to the throne

somewhere between B.C. 319 and B.C. 260. Similar inscriptions have been

discovered throughout India, proving to the satisfaction of such scholars

as Burnouf, Prinsep, Turnour, Lassen, Weber, Max Müller, and

Saint-Hilaire, that Buddhism had become almost the state religion of

India, in the fourth century before Christ.[100]

§ 3. Sakya-muni, the Founder of Buddhism.

North of Central India and of the kingdom of Oude, near the borders of

Nepaul, there reigned, at the end of the seventh century before Christ, a

wise and good king, in his capital city, Kapilavastu[101]. He was one of

the last of the great Solar race, celebrated in the ancient epics of

India. His wife, named _Maya_ because of her great beauty, became the

mother of a prince, who was named Siddârtha, and afterward known as the

Buddha[102]. She died seven days after his birth, and the child was

brought up by his maternal aunt. The young prince distinguished himself by

his personal and intellectual qualities, but still more by his early

piety. It appears from the laws of Manu that it was not unusual, in the

earliest periods of Brahmanism, for those seeking a superior piety to turn

hermits, and to live alone in the forest, engaged in acts of prayer,

meditation, abstinence, and the study of the Vedas. This practice,

however, seems to have been confined to the Brahmans. It was, therefore, a

grief to the king, when his son, in the flower of his youth and highly

accomplished in every kingly faculty of body and mind, began to turn his

thoughts toward the life of an anchorite. In fact, the young Siddârtha

seems to have gone through that deep experience out of which the great

prophets of mankind have always been born. The evils of the world pressed

on his heart and brain; the very air seemed full of mortality; all things

were passing away. Was anything permanent? anything stable? Nothing but

truth; only the absolute, eternal law of things. "Let me see that," said

he, "and I can give lasting peace to mankind. Then shall I become their

deliverer." So, in opposition to the strong entreaties of his father,

wife, and friends, he left the palace one night, and exchanged the

position of a prince for that of a mendicant. "I will never return to the

palace," said he, "till I have attained to the sight of the divine law,

and so become Buddha."[103]

He first visited the Brahmans, and listened to their doctrines, but found

no satisfaction therein. The wisest among them could not teach him true

peace,--that profound inward rest, which was already called Nirvana. He

was twenty-nine years old. Although disapproving of the Brahmanic

austerities as an end, he practised them during six years, in order to

subdue the senses. He then became satisfied that the path to perfection

did not lie that way. He therefore resumed his former diet and a more

comfortable mode of life, and so lost many disciples who had been

attracted by his amazing austerity. Alone in his hermitage, he came at

last to that solid conviction, that KNOWLEDGE never to be shaken, of the

laws of things, which had seemed to him the only foundation of a truly

free life. The spot where, after a week of constant meditation, he at last

arrived at this beatific vision, became one of the most sacred places in

India. He was seated under a tree, his face to the east, not having moved

for a day and night, when he attained the triple science, which was to

rescue mankind from its woes. Twelve hundred years after the death of the

Buddha, a Chinese pilgrim was shown what then passed for the sacred tree.

It was surrounded by high brick walls, with an opening to the east, and

near it stood many topes and monasteries. In the opinion of M.

Saint-Hilaire, these ruins, and the locality of the tree, may yet be

rediscovered. The spot deserves to be sought for, since there began a

movement which has, on the whole, been a source of happiness and

improvement to immense multitudes of human beings, during twenty-four

centuries.

Having attained this inward certainty of vision, he decided to teach the

world his truth. He knew well what it would bring him,--what opposition,

insult, neglect, scorn. But he thought of three classes of men: those who

were already on the way to the truth, and did not need him; those who were

fixed in error, and whom he could not help; and the poor doubters,

uncertain of their way. It was to help these last, the doubters, that the

Buddha went forth to preach. On his way to the holy city of India,

Benares, a serious difficulty arrested him at the Ganges, namely, his

having no money to pay the boatman for his passage. At Benares he made his

first converts, "turning the wheel of the law" for the first time. His

discourses are contained in the sacred books of the Buddhists. He

converted great numbers, his father among the rest, but met with fierce

opposition from the Hindoo Scribes and Pharisees, the leading Brahmans. So

he lived and taught, and died at the age of eighty years.

Naturally, as soon as the prophet was dead he became very precious in all

eyes. His body was burned with much pomp, and great contention arose for

the unconsumed fragments of bone. At last they were divided into eight

parts, and a tope was erected, by each of the eight fortunate possessors,

over such relics as had fallen to him. The ancient books of the North and

South agree as to the places where the topes were built, and no Roman

Catholic relics are so well authenticated. The Buddha, who believed with

Jesus that "the flesh profiteth nothing," and that "the word is spirit and

life," would probably have been the first to condemn this idolatry. But

fetich-worship lingers in the purest religions.

The time of the death of Sakya-muni, like most Oriental dates, is

uncertain. The Northern Buddhists, in Thibet, Nepaul, etc., vary greatly

among themselves. The Chinese Buddhists are not more certain. Lassen,

therefore, with most of the scholars, accepts as authentic the period upon

which all the authorities of the South, especially of Ceylon, agree, which

is B.C. 543. Lately Westergaard has written a monograph on the subject, in

which, by a labored argument, he places the date about two hundred years

later. Whether he will convince his brother _savans_ remains to be seen.

Immediately after the death of Sakya-muni a general council of his most

eminent disciples was called, to fix the doctrine and discipline of the

church. The legend runs that three of the disciples were selected to

recite from memory what the sage had taught. The first was appointed to

repeat his teaching upon discipline; "for discipline," said they, "is the

soul of the law." Whereupon Upali, mounting the pulpit, repeated all of

the precepts concerning morals and the ritual. Then Ananda was chosen to

give his master's discourses concerning faith or doctrine. Finally,

Kasyapa announced the philosophy and metaphysics of the system. The

council sat during seven months, and the threefold division of the sacred

Scriptures of Buddhism was the result of their work; for Sakya-muni wrote

nothing himself. He taught by conversation only.

The second general council was called to correct certain abuses which had

begun to creep in. It was held about a hundred years after the teacher's

death. A great fraternity of monks proposed to relax the conventual

discipline, by allowing greater liberty in taking food, in drinking

intoxicating liquor, and taking gold and silver if offered in alms. The

schismatic monks were degraded, to the number of ten thousand, but formed

a new sect. The third council, held during the reign of the great Buddhist

Emperor Asoka, was called on account of heretics, who, to the number of

sixty thousand, were degraded and expelled. After this, missionaries were

despatched to preach the word in different lands. The names and success of

these missionaries are recorded in the _Mahawanso_, or Sacred History,

translated by Mr. George Turnour from the Singhalese. But what is

remarkable is, that the relics of some of them have been recently found in

the Sanchi topes, and in other sacred buildings, contained in caskets,

with their names inscribed on them. These inscribed names correspond with

those given to the same missionaries in the historical books of Ceylon.

For example, according to the _Mahawanso_, two missionaries, one named

Kassapo (or Kasyapa), and the other called Majjhima (or Madhyama), went to

preach in the region of the Himalayan Mountains. They journeyed, preached,

suffered, and toiled, side by side, so the ancient history informs us,--a

history composed in Ceylon in the fifth century of our era, with the aid

of works still more ancient;[104] and now, when the second Sanchi tope was

opened in 1851, by Major Cunningham, the relics of these very missionaries

were discovered.[105] The tope was perfect in 1819, when visited by

Captain Fell,--"not a stone fallen." And though afterward injured, in

1822, by some amateur relic-hunters, its contents remained intact. It is a

solid hemisphere, built of rough stones without mortar, thirty-nine feet

in diameter; it has a basement six feet high, projecting all around five

feet, and so making a terrace. It is surrounded by a stone railing, with

carved figures. In the centre of this tope was found a small chamber, made

of six stones, containing the relic-box of white sandstone, about ten

inches square. Inside this were four caskets of steatite (a sacred stone

among the Buddhists), each containing small portions of burnt human bone.

On the outside lid of one of these boxes was this inscription: "Relics of

the emancipated Kasyapa Gotra, missionary to the whole Hemawanta." And on

the inside of the lid was carved: "Relics of the emancipated Madhyama."

These relics, with those of eight other leading men of the Buddhist

Church, had rested in this monument since the age of Asoka, and cannot

have been placed there later than B.C. 220.

The missionary spirit displayed by Buddhism distinguishes it from all

other religions which preceded Christianity. The religion of Confucius

never attempted to make converts outside of China. Brahmanism never went

beyond India. The system of Zoroaster was a Persian religion; that of

Egypt was confined to the Valley of the Nile; that of Greece to the

Hellenic race. But Buddhism was inflamed with the desire of bringing all

mankind to a knowledge of its truths. Its ardent and successful

missionaries converted multitudes in Nepaul, Thibet, Birmah, Ceylon,

China, Siam, Japan; and in all these states its monasteries are to-day the

chief sources of knowledge and centres of instruction to the people. It is

idle to class such a religion as this with the superstitions which debase

mankind. Its power lay in the strength of conviction which inspired its

teachers; and that, again, must have come from the sight of truth, not the

belief in error.

§ 4. Leading Doctrines of Buddhism.

What, then, are the doctrines of Buddhism? What are the essential

teachings of the Buddha and his disciples? Is it a system, as we are so

often told, which denies God and immortality? Has _atheism_ such a power

over human hearts in the East? Is the Asiatic mind thus in love with

eternal death? Let us try to discover.

The hermit of Sakya, as we have seen, took his departure from two profound

convictions,--the evil of perpetual change, and the possibility of

something permanent. He might have used the language of the Book of

Ecclesiastes, and cried, "Vanity of vanities! all is vanity!" The profound

gloom of that wonderful book is based on the same course of thought as

that of the Buddha, namely, that everything goes round and round in a

circle; that nothing moves forward; that there is no new thing under the

sun; that the sun rises and sets, and rises again; that the wind blows

north and south, and east and west, and then returns according to its

circuits. Where can rest be found? where peace? where any certainty?

Siddârtha was young; but he saw age approaching. He was in health; but he

knew that sickness and death were lying in wait for him. He could not

escape from the sight of this perpetual round of growth and decay, life

and death, joy and woe. He cried out, from the depths of his soul, for

something stable, permanent, real.

Again, he was assured that this emancipation from change and decay was to

be found in knowledge. But by knowledge he did not intend the perception

and recollection of outward facts,--not learning. Nor did he mean

speculative knowledge, or the power of reasoning. He meant intuitive

knowledge, the sight of eternal truth, the perception of the unchanging

laws of the universe. This was a knowledge which was not to be attained by

any merely intellectual process, but by moral training, by purity of heart

and lite. Therefore he renounced the world, and went into the forest, and

became an anchorite.

But just at this point he separated himself from the Brahmans. They also

were, and are, believers in the value of mortification, abnegation,

penance. They had their hermits in his day. But they believed in the value

of penance as accumulating merit. They practised self-denial for its own

sake. The Buddha practised it as a means to a higher end,--emancipation,

purification, intuition. And this end he believed that he had at last

attained. At last he _saw_ the truth. He became "wide awake." Illusions

disappeared; the reality was before him. He was the Buddha,--the MAN WHO

KNEW.

Still he was a man, not a God. And here again is another point of

departure from Brahmanism. In that system, the final result of devotion

was to become absorbed in God. The doctrine of the Brahmans is divine

absorption; that of the Buddhists, human development. In the Brahmanical

system, God is everything and man nothing. In the Buddhist, man is

everything and God nothing. Here is its atheism, that it makes so much of

man as to forget God. It is perhaps "without God in the world," but it

does not deny him. It accepts the doctrine of the three worlds,--the

eternal world of absolute being; the celestial world of the gods, Brahma,

Indra, Vischnu, Siva; and the finite world, consisting of individual

souls and the laws of nature. Only it says, of the world of absolute

being, Nirvana, we know nothing. That is our aim and end; but it is the

direct opposite to all we know. It is, therefore, to us as nothing. The

celestial world, that of the gods, is even of less moment to us. What we

know are the everlasting laws of nature, by obedience to which we rise,

disobeying which we fall, by perfect obedience to which we shall at last

obtain Nirvana, and rest forever.

To the mind of the Buddha, therefore, the world consisted of two orders of

existence,--souls and laws. He saw an infinite multitude of souls,--in

insects, animals, men,--and saw that they were surrounded by inflexible

laws,--the laws of nature. To know these and to obey them,--this was

emancipation.

The fundamental doctrine of Buddhism, taught by its founder and received

by all Buddhists without exception, in the North and in the South, in

Birmah and Thibet, in Ceylon and China, is the doctrine of the four

sublime truths, namely:--

1. All existence is evil, because all existence is subject to change

and decay.

2. The source of this evil is the desire for things which are to change

and pass away.

3. This desire, and the evil which follows it, are not inevitable; for

if we choose we can arrive at Nirvana, when both shall wholly cease.

4. There is a fixed and certain method to adopt, by pursuing which we

attain this end, without possibility of failure.

These four truths are the basis of the system. They are: 1st, the evil;

2d, its cause; 3d, its end; 4th, the way of reaching the end.

Then follow the eight steps of this way, namely:--

1. Right belief, or the correct faith.

2. Right judgment, or wise application of that faith to life.

3. Right utterance, or perfect truth in all that we say and do.

4. Right motives, or proposing always a proper end and aim.

5. Right occupation, or an outward life not involving sin.

6. Right obedience, or faithful observance of duty.

7. Right memory, or a proper recollection of past conduct.

8. Right meditation, or keeping the mind fixed on permanent truth.

After this system of doctrine follow certain moral commands and

prohibitions, namely, five, which apply to all men, and five others which

apply only to the novices or the monks. The five first commandments are:

1st, do not kill; 2d, do not steal; 3d, do not commit adultery; 4th, do

not lie; 5th, do not become intoxicated. The other five are: 1st, take no

solid food after noon; 2d, do not visit dances, singing, or theatrical

representations; 3d, use no ornaments or perfumery in dress; 4th, use no

luxurious beds; 5th, accept neither gold nor silver.

All these doctrines and precepts have been the subject of innumerable

commentaries and expositions. Everything has been commented, explained,

and elucidated. Systems of casuistry as voluminous as those of the Fathers

of the Company of Jesus, systems of theology as full of minute analysis as

the great _Summa Totius Theologiæ_ of St. Thomas, are to be found in the

libraries of the monasteries of Thibet and Ceylon. The monks have their

Golden Legends, their Lives of Saints, full of miracles and marvels. On

this simple basis of a few rules and convictions has arisen a vast fabric

of metaphysics. Much of this literature is instructive and entertaining.

Some of it is profound. Baur, who had made a special study of the

intricate speculations of the Gnostics, compares them with "the vast

abstractions of Buddhism."

§ 5. The Spirit of Buddhism Rational and Humane.

Ultimately, two facts appear, as we contemplate this system,--first, its

rationalism; second, its humanity.

It is a system of rationalism. It appeals throughout to human reason. It

proposes to save man, not from a future but a present hell, and to save

him by teaching. Its great means of influence is the sermon. The Buddha

preached innumerable sermons; his missionaries went abroad preaching.

Buddhism has made all its conquests honorably, by a process of rational

appeal to the human mind. It was never propagated by force, even when it

had the power of imperial rajas to support it. Certainly, it is a very

encouraging fact in the history of man, that the two religions which have

made more converts than any other, Buddhism and Christianity, have not

depended for their success on the sword of the conqueror or the frauds of

priestcraft, but have gained their victories in the fair conflict of

reason with reason. We grant that Buddhism has not been without its

superstitions and its errors; but it has not deceived, and it has not

persecuted. In this respect it can teach Christians a lesson. Buddhism has

no prejudices against those who confess another faith. The Buddhists have

founded no Inquisition; they have combined the zeal which converted

kingdoms with a toleration almost inexplicable to our Western experience.

Only one religious war has darkened their peaceful history during

twenty-three centuries,--that which took place in Thibet, but of which we

know little. A Siamese told Crawford that he believed all the religions of

the world to be branches of the true religion. A Buddhist in Ceylon sent

his son to a Christian school, and told the astonished missionary, "I

respect Christianity as much as Buddhism, for I regard it as a help to

Buddhism." MM. Hue and Gabet converted no Buddhist in Tartary and Thibet,

but they partially converted one, bringing him so far as to say that he

considered himself at the same time a good Christian and a good Buddhist.

Buddhism is also a religion of humanity. Because it lays such stress on

reason, it respects all men, since all possess this same gift. In its

origin it broke down all castes. All men, of whatever rank, can enter its

priesthood. It has an unbounded charity for all souls, and holds it a duty

to make sacrifices for all. One legend tells us that the Buddha gave his

body for food to a starved tigress, who could not nurse her young through

weakness. An incident singularly like that in the fourth chapter of John

is recorded of the hermit, who asked a woman of low caste for water, and

when she expressed surprise said, "Give me drink, and I will give you

truth." The unconditional command, "Thou shalt not kill," which applies to

all living creatures, has had great influence in softening the manners of

the Mongols. This command is connected with the doctrine of transmigration

of souls, which is one of the essential doctrines of this system as well

as of Brahmanism. But Buddhism has abolished human sacrifices, and indeed

all bloody offerings, and its innocent altars are only crowned with

flowers and leaves. It also inculcates a positive humanity, consisting of

good actions. All its priests are supported by daily alms. It is a duty of

the Buddhist to be hospitable to strangers, to establish hospitals for the

sick and poor, and even for sick animals, to plant shade-trees, and erect

houses for travellers. Mr. Malcom, the Baptist missionary, says that he

was resting one day in a _zayat_ in a small village in Birmah, and was

scarcely seated when a woman brought a nice mat for him to lie on. Another

brought cool water, and a man went and picked for him half a dozen good

oranges. None sought or expected, he says, the least reward, but

disappeared, and left him to his repose. He adds: "None can ascend the

river without being struck with the hardihood, skill, energy, and

good-humor of the Birmese boatmen. In point of temper and morality they

are infinitely superior to the boatmen on our Western waters. In my

various trips, I have seen no quarrel nor heard a hard word."

Mr. Malcom goes on thus: "Many of these people have never seen a white man

before, but I am constantly struck with their politeness. They desist from

anything on the slightest intimation; never crowd around to be

troublesome; and if on my showing them my watch or pencil-case, or

anything which particularly attracts them, there are more than can get a

sight, the outer ones stand aloof and wait till their turn comes....

"I saw no intemperance in Birmah, though an intoxicating liquor is made

easily of the juice of a palm....

"A man may travel from one end of the kingdom to the other without money,

feeding and lodging as well as the people."

"I have seen thousands together, for hours, on public occasions, rejoicing

in all ardor, and no act of violence or case of intoxication....

"During my whole residence in the country I never saw an indecent act or

immodest gesture in man or woman.... I have seen hundreds of men and women

bathing, and no immodest or careless act....

"Children are treated with great kindness, not only by the mother but the

father, who, when unemployed, takes the young child in his arms, and seems

pleased to attend to it, while the mother cleans the rice or sits

unemployed at his side. I have as often seen fathers caressing female

infants as male. A widow with male and female children is more likely to

be sought in marriage than if she has none....

"Children are almost as reverent to parents as among the Chinese. The aged

are treated with great care and tenderness, and occupy the best places in

all assemblies."

According to Saint-Hilaire's opinion, the Buddhist morality is one of

endurance, patience, submission, and abstinence, rather than of action,

energy, enterprise. Love for all beings is its nucleus, every animal being

our possible relative. To love our enemies, to offer our lives for

animals, to abstain from even defensive warfare, to govern ourselves, to

avoid vices, to pay obedience to superiors, to reverence age, to provide

food and shelter for men and animals, to dig wells and plant trees, to

despise no religion, show no intolerance, not to persecute, are the

virtues of these people. Polygamy is tolerated, but not approved. Monogamy

is general in Ceylon, Siam, Birinah; somewhat less so in Thibet and

Mongolia. Woman is better treated by Buddhism than by any other Oriental

religion.

§ 6. Buddhism as a Religion.

But what is the religious life of Buddhism? Can there be a religion

without a God? And if Buddhism has no God, how can it have worship,

prayer, devotion? There is no doubt that it has all these. We have seen

that its _cultus_ is much like that of the Roman Catholic Church. It

differs from this church in having no secular priests, but only regulars;

all its clergy are monks, taking the three vows of poverty, chastity, and

obedience. Their vows, however, are not irrevocable; they can relinquish

the yellow robe, and return into the world, if they find they have

mistaken their vocation.

The God of Buddhism is the Buddha himself, the deified man, who has become

an infinite being by entering Nirvana. To him prayer is addressed, and it

is so natural for man to pray, that no theory can prevent him from doing

it. In Thibet, prayer-meetings are held even in the streets. Huc says:

"There is a very touching custom at Lhassa. In the evening, just before

sundown, all the people leave their work, and meet in groups in the public

streets and squares. All kneel and begin to chant their prayers in a low

and musical tone. The concert of song which rises from all these numerous

reunions produces an immense and solemn harmony, which deeply impresses

the mind. We could not help sadly comparing this Pagan city, where all the

people prayed together, with our European cities, where men would blush to

be seen making the sign of the cross."

In Thibet _confession_ was early enjoined. Public worship is there a

solemn confession before the assembled priests. It confers entire

absolution from sins. It consists in an open confession of sin, and a

promise to sin no more. Consecrated water is also used in the service of

the Pagodas.

There are thirty-five Buddhas who have preceded Sakya-muni, and are

considered the chief powers for taking away sin. These are called the

"Thirty-five Buddhas of Confession." Sakya-muni, however, has been

included in the number. Some lamas are also joined with them in the sacred

pictures, as Tsonkhapa, a lama born in A.D. 1555, and others. The

mendicant priests of Buddha are bound to confess twice a month, at the new

and full moon.

The Buddhists have also nunneries for women. It is related that

Sakya-muni consented to establish them at the earnest request of his aunt

and nurse, and of his favorite disciple, Ananda. These nuns take the same

vows as the monks. Their rules require them to show reverence even to the

youngest monk, and to use no angry or harsh words to a priest. The nun

must be willing to be taught; she must go once a fortnight for this

purpose to some virtuous teacher; she must not devote more than two weeks

at a time to spiritual retirement; she must not go out merely for

amusement; after two years' preparation she can be initiated, and she is

bound to attend the closing ceremonies of the rainy season.

§ 7. Karma and Nirvana.

One of the principal metaphysical doctrines of this system is that which

it called Karma. This means the law of consequences, by which every act

committed in one life entails results in another. This law operates until

one reaches Nirvana. Mr. Hardy goes so far as to suppose that Karma causes

the merits or demerits of each soul to result at death in the production

of another consciousness, and in fact to result in a new person. But this

must be an error. Karma is the law of consequences, by which every act

receives its exact recompense in the next world, where the soul is born

again. But unless the same soul passes on, such a recompense is

impossible.

"_Karma_" said Buddha, "is the most essential property of all beings; it

is inherited from previous births, it is the cause of all good and evil,

and the reason why some are mean and some exalted when they come into the

world. It is like the shadow which always accompanies the body." Buddha

himself obtained all his elevation by means of the Karma obtained in

previous states. No one can obtain Karma or merit, but those who hear the

discourses of Buddha.

There has been much discussion among scholars concerning the true meaning

of Nirvana, the end of all Buddhist expectation. Is it annihilation? Or is

it absorption in God? The weight of authority, no doubt, is in favor of

the first view. Burnouf's conclusion is: "For Buddhist theists, it is the

absorption of the individual life in God; for atheists, absorption of this

individual life in the nothing. But for both, it is deliverance from all

evil, it is supreme affranchisement." In the opinion that it is

annihilation agree Max Müller, Tumour, Schmidt, and Hardy. And M.

Saint-Hilaire, while calling it "a hideous faith," nevertheless assigns it

to a third part of the human race.

But, on the other hand, scholars of the highest rank deny this view. In

particular, Bunsen (_Gott in der Geschichte_) calls attention to the fact

that, in the oldest monuments of this religion, the earliest Sutras,

Nirvana is spoken of as a condition attained in the present life. How then

can it mean annihilation? It is a state in which all desires cease, all

passions die. Bunsen believes that the Buddha never denied or questioned

God or immortality.

The following account of NIRVANA is taken from the Pali Sacred Books:--

"Again the king of Ságal said to Nágaséna: 'Is the joy of Nirvana

unmixed, or is it associated with sorrow?' The priest replied that it

is unmixed satisfaction, entirely free from sorrow.

"Again the king of Ságal said to Nágaséna: 'Is Nirvana in the east,

west, south, or north; above or below? Is there such a place as

Nirvana? If so, where is it?' Nágaséna: 'Neither in the east, south,

west, nor north, neither in the sky above, nor in the earth below, nor

in any of the infinite sakwalas, is there such a place as Nirvana.'

Milinda: 'Then if Nirvana have no locality, there can be no such thing;

and when it is said that any one attains Nirvana, the declaration is

false.' Nágaséna: 'There is no such place as Nirvana, and yet it

exists; the priest who seeks it in the right manner will attain it.'

'When Nirvana is attained, is there such a place?' Nágaséna: 'When a

priest attains Nirvana there is such a place.' Milinda: 'Where is that

place?' Nágaséna: 'Wherever the precepts can be observed; it may be

anywhere; just as he who has two eyes can see the sky from any or all

places; or as all places may have an eastern side.'"

The Buddhist asserts Nirvana as the object of all his hope, yet, if you

ask him what it is, may reply, "Nothing." But this cannot mean that the

highest good of man is annihilation. No pessimism could be more extreme

than such a doctrine. Such a belief is not in accordance with human

nature. Tennyson is wiser when he writes:--

"Whatever crazy sorrow saith,

No life that breathes with human breath

Has ever truly longed for death.

"'T is LIFE, whereof our nerves are scant,

O life, not death, for which we pant;

More life, and fuller, that I want."

The Buddhist, when he says that Nirvana is _nothing,_ means simply that it

is _no thing_; that it is nothing to our present conceptions; that it is

the opposite of all we know, the contradiction, of what we call life now,

a state so sublime, so wholly different from anything we know or can know

now, that it is the same thing as nothing to us. All present life is

change; _that_ is permanence: all present life is going up and down;

_that_ is stability: all present life is the life of sense; _that_ is

spirit.

The Buddhist denies God in the same way. He is the unknowable. He is the

impossible to be conceived of.

"Who shall name Him

And dare to say,

'_I believe in Him_'?

Who shall deny Him,

And venture to affirm,

'_I believe in Him not?_'"[106]

To the Buddhist, in short, the element of time and the finite is all, as

to the Brahman the element of eternity is all. It is the most absolute

contradiction of Brahmanism which we can conceive.

It seems impossible for the Eastern mind to hold at the same time the two

conceptions of God and nature, the infinite and the finite, eternity and

time. The Brahmaus accept the reality of God, the infinite and the

eternal, and omit the reality of the finite, of nature, history, time, and

the world. The Buddhist accepts the last, and ignores the first.

This question has been fully discussed by Mr. Alger in his very able work,

"Critical History of the Doctrine of a Future Life," and his conclusion is

wholly opposed to the view which makes Nirvana equivalent to annihilation.

§ 8. Good and Evil of Buddhism.

The good and the evil of Buddhism are thus summed up by M. Saint-Hilaire.

He remarks that the first peculiarity of Buddhism is the wholly practical

direction taken by its founder. He proposes to himself the salvation of

mankind. He abstains from the subtle philosophy of the Brahmans, and takes

the most direct and simple way to his end. But he does not offer low and

sensual rewards; he does not, like so many lawgivers, promise to his

followers riches, pleasures, conquests, power. He invites them to

salvation by means of virtue, knowledge, and self-denial. Not in the

Vedas, nor the books which proceed from it, do we find such noble appeals,

though they too look at the infinite as their end. But the indisputable

glory of Buddha is the boundless charity to man with which his soul was

filled. He lived to instruct and guide man aright. He says in so many

words, "My law is a law of grace for all" (Burnouf, Introduction, etc., p.

198). We may add to M. Saint-Hilaire's statement, that in these words the

Buddha plainly aims at what we have called a catholic religion. In his

view of man's sorrowful life, all distinctions of rank and class fall

away; all are poor and needy together; and here, too, he comes in contact

with that Christianity which says, "Come unto me, all ye that labor and

are heavy-laden." Buddha also wished to cure the sicknesses, not only of

the Hindoo life, but of the life of mankind.

M. Saint-Hilaire adds, that, in seeking thus to help man, the means of the

Buddha are pure, like his ends. He tries to convince and to persuade: he

does not wish to compel. He allows confession, and helps the weak and

simple by explanations and parables. He also tries to guard man against

evil, by establishing habits of chastity, temperance, and self-control. He

goes forward into the Christian graces of patience, humility, and

forgiveness of injuries. He has a horror of falsehood, a reverence for

truth; he forbids slander and gossip; he teaches respect for parents,

family, life, home.

Yet Saint-Hilaire declares that, with all these merits, Buddhism has not

been able to found a tolerable social state or a single good government.

It failed in India, the land of its birth. Nothing like the progress and

the development of Christian civilization appears in Buddhism. Something

in the heart of the system makes it sterile, notwithstanding its excellent

intentions. What is it?

The fact is, that, notwithstanding its benevolent purposes, its radical

thought is a selfish one. It rests on pure individualism,--each man's

object is to save his own soul. All the faults of Buddhism, according to

M. Saint-Hilaire, spring from this root of egotism in the heart of the

system.

No doubt the same idea is found in Christianity. Personal salvation is

herein included. But Christianity _starts_ from a very different point: it

is the "kingdom of Heaven." "Thy kingdom come: thy will be done on earth."

It is not going on away from time to find an unknown eternity. It is God

with us, eternity here, eternal life abiding in us now. If some narrow

Protestant sects make Christianity to consist essentially in the salvation

of our own soul hereafter, they fall into the condemnation of Buddhism.

But that is not the Christianity of Christ. Christ accepts the great

prophetic idea of a Messiah who brings down God's reign into this life. It

is the New Jerusalem coming down from God out of heaven. It is the earth

full of the knowledge of God, as the waters cover the sea. It is all

mankind laboring together for this general good.

This solitary preoccupation with one's own salvation causes the religious

teachers of Buddhism to live apart, outside of society, and take no

interest in it. There is in the Catholic and Protestant world, beside the

monk, a secular priesthood, which labors to save other men's bodies and

souls. No such priesthood exists in Buddhism.

Moreover, not the idea of salvation from evil,--which keeps before us evil

as the object of contemplation,--but the idea of good, is the true motive

for the human conscience. This leads us up at once to God; this alone can

create love. We can only love by seeing something lovely. God must seem,

not terrible, but lovely, in order to be loved. Man must seem, not mean

and poor, but noble and beautiful, before we can love him. This idea of

the good does not appear in Buddhism, says M. Saint-Hilaire. Not a spark

of this divine flame--that which to see and show has given immortal glory

to Plato and to Socrates--has descended on Sakya-muni. The notion of

rewards, substituted for that of the infinite beauty, has perverted

everything in his system.

Duty itself becomes corrupted, as soon as the idea of the good disappears.

It becomes then a blind submission to mere law. It is an outward

constraint, not an inward inspiration. Scepticism follows. "The world is

empty, the heart is dead surely," is its language. Nihilism arrives sooner

or later. God is nothing; man is nothing; life is nothing; death is

nothing; eternity is nothing. Hence the profound sadness of Buddhism. To

its eye all existence is evil, and the only hope is to escape from time

into eternity,--or into nothing,--as you may choose to interpret Nirvana.

While Buddhism makes God, or the good, and heaven, to be equivalent to

nothing, it intensifies and exaggerates evil. Though heaven is a blank,

hell is a very solid reality. It is present and future too. Everything in

the thousand hells of Buddhism is painted as vividly as in the hell of

Dante. God has disappeared from the universe, and in his place is only the

inexorable law, which grinds on forever. It punishes and rewards, but has

no love in it. It is only dead, cold, hard, cruel, unrelenting law. Yet

Buddhists are not atheists, any more than a child who has never heard of

God is an atheist. A child is neither deist nor atheist: he has _no_

theology.

The only emancipation from self-love is in the perception of an infinite

love. Buddhism, ignoring this infinite love, incapable of communion with

God, aiming at morality without religion, at humanity without piety,

becomes at last a prey to the sadness of a selfish isolation. We do not

say that this is always the case, for in all systems the heart often

redeems the errors of the head. But this is the logical drift of the

system and its usual outcome.

§ 9. Relation of Buddhism to Christianity.

In closing this chapter, let us ask what relation this great system

sustains to Christianity.

The fundamental doctrine and central idea of Buddhism is personal

salvation, or _the salvation of the soul by personal acts of faith and

obedience_. This we maintain, notwithstanding the opinion that some

schools of Buddhists teach that the soul itself is not a constant element

or a special substance, but the mere result of past merit or demerit. For

if there be no soul, there can be no transmigration. Now it is certain

that the doctrine of transmigration is the very basis of Buddhism, the

corner-stone of the system. Thus M. Saint-Hilaire says: "The chief and

most immovable fact of Buddhist metaphysics is the doctrine of

transmigration." Without a soul to migrate, there can be no migration.

Moreover, the whole ethics of the system would fall with its metaphysics,

on this theory; for why urge men to right conduct, in order to attain

happiness, or Nirvana, hereafter, if they are not to exist hereafter. No,

the soul's immortality is a radical doctrine in Buddhism, and this

doctrine is one of its points of contact with Christianity.

Another point of contact is its doctrine of reward and punishment,--a

doctrine incompatible with the supposition that the soul does not pass on

from world to world. But this is the essence of all its ethics, the

immutable, inevitable, unalterable consequences of good and evil. In this

also it agrees with Christianity, which teaches that "whatsoever a man

soweth that shall he also reap"; that he who turns his pound into five

will he set over five cities, he who turns it into ten, over ten cities.

A third point of contact with Christianity, however singular it may at

first appear to say so, is the doctrine of Nirvana. Nirvana, to the

Buddhist, means the absolute, eternal world, beyond time and space; that

which is nothing to us now, but will be everything hereafter. Incapable of

cognizing both time and eternity, it makes them absolute negations of each

other.

The peculiarity of Plato, according to Mr. Emerson and other Platonists

was, that he was able to grasp and hold intellectually both

conceptions,--of God and man, the infinite and finite, the eternal and the

temporal. The merit of Christianity is, in like manner, that it is able to

take up and keep, not primarily as dogma, but as life, both these

antagonistic ideas. Christianity recognizes God as the infinite and

eternal, but recognizes also the world of time and space as real. Man

exists as well as God: we love God, we must love man too. Brahmanism loves

God, but not man; it has piety, but not humanity. Buddhism loves man, but

not God; it has humanity, but not piety; or if it has piety, it is by a

beautiful want of logic, its heart being wiser than its head. That which

seems an impossibility in these Eastern systems is a fact of daily life to

the Christian child, to the ignorant and simple Christian man or woman,

who, amid daily duty and trial, find joy in both heavenly and earthly

love.

There is a reason for this in the inmost nature of Christianity as

compared with Buddhism. Why is it that Buddhism is a religion without God?

Sakya-muni did not ignore God. The object of his life was to attain

Nirvana, that is, to attain a union with God, the Infinite Being. He

became Buddha by this divine experience. Why, then, is not this religious

experience a constituent element in Buddhism, as it is in Christianity?

Because in Buddhism man struggles upward to find God, while in

Christianity God comes down to find man. To speak in the language of

technical theology, Buddhism is a doctrine of works, and Christianity of

grace. That which God gives all men may receive, and be united by this

community of grace in one fellowship. But the results attained by effort

alone, divide men; because some do more and receive more than others. The

saint attained Buddha, but that was because of his superhuman efforts and

sacrifices; it does not encourage others to hope for the same result.

We see, then, that here, as elsewhere, the superiority of Christianity is

to be found in its quantity, in its fulness of life. It touches Buddhism

at all its good points, in all its truths. It accepts the Buddhistic

doctrine of rewards and punishments, of law, progress, self-denial,

self-control, humanity, charity, equality of man with man, and pity for

human sorrow; but to all this it adds--how much more! It fills up the

dreary void of Buddhism with a living God; with a life of God in man's

soul, a heaven here as well as hereafter. It gives us, in addition to the

struggle of the soul to find God, a God coming down to find the soul. It

gives a divine as real as the human, an infinite as solid as the finite.

And this it does, not by a system of thought, but by a fountain and stream

of life. If all Christian works, the New Testament included, were

destroyed, we should lose a vast deal no doubt; but we should not lose

Christianity; for that is not a book, but a life. Out of that stream of

life would be again developed the conception of Christianity, as a thought

and a belief. We should be like the people living on the banks of the

Nile, ignorant for five thousand years of its sources; not knowing whence

its beneficent inundations were derived; not knowing by what miracle its

great stream could flow on and on amid the intense heats, where no rain

falls, and fed during a course of twelve hundred miles by no single

affluent, yet not absorbed in the sand, nor evaporated by the ever-burning

sun. But though ignorant of its source, they know it has a source, and can

enjoy all its benefits and blessings. So Christianity is a full river of

life, containing truths apparently the most antagonistic, filling the soul

and heart of man and the social state of nations with its impulses and

its ideas. We should lose much in losing our positive knowledge of its

history; but if all the books were gone, the tablets of the human heart

would remain, and on these would be written the everlasting Gospel of

Jesus, in living letters which no years could efface and no changes

conceal.

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