The Religions of India / Handbooks on the History of Religions, Volume 1, Edited by Morris Jastrow

by Edward Washburn Hopkins

CHAPTER XIII.

BUDDHISM.

While the pantheistic believer proceeded to anthropomorphize in a still greater degree the [=a]tm[=a] of his fathers, and eventually landed in heretical sectarianism; while the orthodox Brahman simply added to his pantheon (in Manu and other law-codes) the Brahmanic figure of the Creator, Brahm[=a]; the truth-seeker that followed the lines of the earlier philosophical thought arrived at atheism, and in consequence became either stoic or hedonist. The latter school, the C[=a]rv[=a]kas, the so-called disciples of Brihaspati, have, indeed, a philosophy without religion. They simply say that the gods do not exist, the priests are hypocrites; the Vedas, humbug; and the only thing worth living for, in view of the fact that there are no gods, no heaven, and no soul, is pleasure: 'While life remains let a man live happily; let him not go without butter (literally ghee) even though he run into debt,' etc.[1] Of sterner stuff was the man who invented a new religion as a solace for sorrow and a refuge from the nihilism in which he believed.

Whether Jainism or Buddhism be the older heresy, and it is not probable that any definitive answer to this question will ever be given, one thing has become clear in the light of recent studies, namely, the fact already shown, that to Brahmanism are due some of the most marked traits of both the heretical sects. The founder of Buddhism did not strike out a new system of morals; he was not a democrat; he did not originate a plot to overthrow the Brahmanic priesthood; he did not invent the order of monks.[2] There is, perhaps, no person in history in regard to whom have arisen so many opinions that are either wholly false or half false.[3]

We shall not canvass in detail views that would be mentioned only to be rejected. Even the brilliant study of Senart,[4] in which the figure of Buddha is resolved into a solar type and the history of the reformer becomes a sun-myth, deserves only to be mentioned and laid aside. Since the publication of the canonical books of the southern Buddhists there is no longer any question in regard to the human reality of the great knight who illumined, albeit with anything but heavenly light, the darkness of Brahmanical belief. Oldenberg[5] has taken Senart seriously, and seriously answered him. But Napoleon and Max Müller have each been treated as sun-myths, and Senart's essay is as convincing as either jeu d'esprit.

In Nep[=a]l, far from the site of Vedic culture, and generations after the period of the Vedic hymns, was born a son to the noble family of the Ç[=a]kyas. A warrior prince, he made at last exclusively his own the lofty title that was craved by many of his peers, Buddha, the truly wise, the 'Awakened.'

The Ç[=a]kyas' land extended along the southern border of Nep[=a]l and the northeast part of Oude (Oudh), between the Ir[=a]vat[=i] (Rapti) river on the west and south, and the Rohini on the east; the district which lies around the present Gorakhpur, about one hundred miles north-northeast of Benares. The personal history of the later Buddha is interwoven with legend from which it is not always easy to disentangle the threads of truth. In the accounts preserved in regard to the Master, one has first to distinguish the P[=a]li records of the Southern Buddhists from the Sanskrit tales of the Northerners; and again, it is necessary to discriminate between the earlier and later traditions of the Southerners, who have kept in general the older history as compared with the extravagant tradition preserved in the Lalita Vistara, the Lotus of the Law, and the other works of the North. What little seems to be authentic history is easily told; nor are, for our present purpose, of much value the legends, which mangonize the life of Buddha. They will be found in every book that treats of the subject, and some of the more famous are translated in the article on Buddha in the Encyclopædia Brittanica. We content ourselves with the simplest and oldest account, giving such facts as help to explain the religious significance of Buddha's life and work among his countrymen. Several of these facts, Buddha's place in society, and the geographical centre of Buddhistic activity, are essential to a true understanding of the relations between Buddhism and Brahmanism.

Whether Buddha's father was king or no has rightly been questioned. The oldest texts do not refer to him as a king's son, and this indicates that his father, who governed the Ç[=a]kya-land, of which the limits have just been specified,[6] was rather a feudal baron or head of a small clan, than an actual king. The Ç[=a]kya power was overthrown and absorbed into that of the king of Oude (Kosala) either in Buddha's own life-time or immediately afterwards. It is only the newer tradition that extols the power and wealth which the Master gave up on renouncing worldly ties, a trait characteristic of all the later accounts, on the principle that the greater was the sacrifice the greater was the glory. Whether kings or mere chieftains, the Ç[=a]kyas were noted as a family that cared little to honor the Brahmanic priests. They themselves claimed descent from Ikshv[=a]ku, the ancient seer-king, son of Manu, and traditionally first king of Ayodh[=a] (Oude). They assumed the name of Gautama, one of the Vedic seers, and it was by the name of 'the Ascetic Gautama' that Buddha was known to his contemporaries; but his personal name was Siddh[=a]rtha 'he that succeeds in his aim,' prophetic of his life! His mother's name M[=a]y[=a] (illusion) has furnished Senart with material for his sun-theory of Buddha; but the same name is handed down as that of a city, and perhaps means in this sense 'the wonderful.' She is said to have died when her son was still a boy. The boy Siddh[=a]rtha, then, was a warrior r[=a]jput by birth, and possibly had a very indifferent training in Vedic literature, since he is never spoken of as Veda-wise.[7] The future Buddha was twenty-nine when he resolved to renounce the world. He was already married and had a son (R[=a]hula, according to later tradition). The legends of later growth here begin to thicken, telling how, when the future Buddha heard of the birth of his son, he simply said 'a new bond has been forged to hold me to the world'; and how his mind was first awakened to appreciation of sorrow by seeing loathy examples of age, sickness, and death presented to him as he drove abroad. Despite his father's tears and protests Siddh[=a]rtha, or as one may call him now by his patronymic, the man Gautama, left his home and family, gave up all possessions, and devoted himself to self-mortification and Yoga discipline of concentration of thought, following in this the model set by all previous ascetics. He says himself, according to tradition, that it was a practical pessimism which drove him to take this step. He was not pleased with life, and the pleasures of society had no charm for him. When he saw the old man, the sick man, the dead man, he became disgusted to think that he too would be subject to age, sickness, and death: "I felt disgust at old age; all pleasure then forsook me." In becoming an ascetic Gautama simply endeavored to discover some means by which he might avoid a recurrence of life, of which the disagreeable side in his estimation outweighed the joy. He too had already answered negatively the question Is life worth living?

We must pause here to point out that this oldest and simplest account of Gautama's resolve shows two things. It makes clear that Gautama at first had no plan for the universal salvation of his race. He was alert to 'save his own soul,' nothing more. We shall show presently that this is confirmed by subsequent events in his career. The next point is that this narration in itself is a complete refutation of the opinion of those scholars who believe that the doctrine of karma and reincarnation arose first in Buddhism, and that the Upanishads that preach this doctrine are not of the pre-Buddhistic period. The last part of this statement of opinion is, of course, not touched by the story of Gautama's renunciation, but the first assumption wrecks on it. Why should Gautama have so given himself to Yoga discipline? Did he expect to escape age, sickness, death, in this life by that means? No. The assumption from the beginning is the belief in the doctrine of reincarnation. It was in order to free himself from future returns of these ills that Gautama renounced his home. But nothing whatever is said of his discovering or inventing the doctrine of reincarnation. Both hell and karma are taken for granted throughout the whole early Buddhistic literature. Buddha discovered neither of them, any more than he discovered a new system of morality, or a new system of religious life; although more credit accrues to him in regard to the last because his order was opposed to that then prevalent; yet even here he had antique authority for his discipline.

To return to Gautama's[8] life. Legend tells how he fled away on his horse Kanthaka, in search of solitude and the means of salvation, far from his home to the abode of ascetics, for he thought: "Whence comes peace? When the fire of desire is extinguished, when the fire of hate is extinguished, when the fire of illusion is extinguished, when all sins and all sorrows are extinguished, then comes peace." And the only means to this end was the renunciation of desire, the discipline of Yoga concentration, where the mind fixed on one point loses all else from its horizon, and feels no drawing aside to worldly things.

What then has Gautama done from the point of view of the Brahman? He has given up his home to become an ascetic. But this was permitted by usage, for, although the strict western code allowed it only to the priest, yet it was customary among the other twice-born castes at an earlier day, and in this part of India it awakened no surprise that one of the military caste should take up the life of a philosopher. For the historian of Indic religions this fact is of great significance, since such practice is the entering wedge which was to split the castes. One step more and not only the military caste but the lower, nay the lowest castes, might become ascetics. But, again, all ascetics were looked upon, in that religious society, as equal to the priests. In fact, where Gautama lived there was rather more respect paid to the ascetic than to the priest as a member of the caste. Gautama was most fortunate in his birth and birth-place. An aristocrat, he became an ascetic in a land where the priests were particularly disregarded. He had no public opinion to contend against when later he declared that Brahman birth and Brahman wisdom had no value. On the contrary, he spoke to glad hearers, who heard repeated loudly now as a religious truth what often they had said to themselves despitefully in private.

Gautama journeyed as a muni, or silent ascetic sage, till after seven years he abandoned his teachers (for he had become a disciple of professed masters), and discontentedly wandered about in M[=a]gadha (Beh[=a]r), 'the cradle of Buddhism,' till he came to Uruvel[=a], Bodhi Gay[=a].[9] Here, having found that concentration of mind, Yoga-discipline, availed nothing, he undertook another method of asceticism, self-torture. This he practiced for some time. But it succeeded as poorly as his first plan, and he had nearly starved himself to death when it occurred to him that he was no wiser than before. Thereupon he gave up starvation as a means of wisdom and began to eat. Five other ascetics, who had been much impressed by his endurance and were quite ready to declare themselves his disciples, now deserted him, thinking that as he had relaxed his discipline he must be weaker than themselves. But Gautama sat beneath the sacred fig-tree[10] and lo! he became illumined. In a moment he saw the Great Truths. He was now the Awakened. He became Buddha.

The later tradition here records how he was tempted of Satan. For M[=a]ra (Death), 'the Evil One' as he is called by the Buddhists, knowing that Buddha had found the way of salvation, tempted him to enter into Nirv[=a]na at once, lest by converting others Buddha should rob M[=a]ra of his power and dominion. This and the legend of storms attacking him and his being protected by the king of snakes, Mucalinda, is lacking in the earlier tradition.

Buddha remains under the bo-tree fasting, for four times seven days, or seven times seven, as says the later report. At first he resolves to be a 'Buddha for himself.'[11] that is to save only himself, not to be 'the universal Buddha,' who converts and saves the world. But the God Brahm[=a] comes down from heaven and persuades him out of pity for the world to preach salvation. In this legend stands out clearly the same fact we have animadverted upon already. Buddha had at first no intention of helping his fellows. He found his own road to salvation. That sufficed. But eventually he was moved through pity for his kind to give others the same knowledge with which he had been enlightened.[12]

Here is to be noticed with what suddenness Gautama becomes Buddha. It is an early case of the same absence of study or intellectual preparation for belief that is rampant in the idea of ictic conversion. In a moment Gautama's eyes are opened. In ecstacy he becomes illuminated with the light of knowledge. This idea is totally foreign to Brahmanism. It is not so strange at an earlier stage, for the Vedic poet often 'sees' his hymn,[13] that is, he is inspired or illumined. But no Brahman priest was ever 'enlightened' with sudden wisdom, for his knowledge was his wisdom, and this consisted in learning interminable trifles. But the wisdom of Buddha was this:

I. Birth is sorrow, age is sorrow, sickness is sorrow, death
is sorrow, clinging to earthly things is sorrow.

II. Birth and re-birth, the chain of reincarnations, result
from the thirst for life together with passion and desire.

III. The only escape from this thirst is the annihilation of
desire.

IV. The only way of escape from this thirst is by following
the Eightfold Path: Right belief, right resolve, right word,
right act, right life, right effort, right thinking, right
meditation.[14]

But Buddha is said to have seen more than these, the Four Great Truths, and the Eightfold Path, for he was enlightened at the same time (after several days of fasting) in regard to the whole chain of causality which is elaborated in the later tradition.

The general result of this teaching may be formulated thus, that most people are foolishly optimistic and that the great awakening is to become a pessimist. One must believe not only that pain is inseparable from existence, but that the pleasures of life are only a part of its pain. When one has got so far along the path of knowledge he traverses the next stage and gets rid of desire, which is the root of life,—this is a Vedic utterance,—till by casting off desire, ignorance, doubt, and heresy, as add some of the texts,[15] one has removed far away all unkindness and vexation of soul, feeling good-will to all.

Not only in this scheme but also in other less formal declarations of Buddha does one find the key-note of that which makes his method of salvation different alike to that of Jain or Brahman. Knowledge is wisdom to the Brahman; asceticism is wisdom to the Jain; purity and love is the first wisdom to the Buddhist. We do not mean that the Brahman does not reach theoretically a plane that puts him on the same level with Buddhism. We have pointed out above a passage in the work of the old law-giver Gautama which might almost have been uttered by Gautama Buddha: "He that has performed all the forty sacraments and has not the eight good qualities enters not into union with Brahm[=a] nor into the heaven of Brahm[=a]; but he that has performed only a part of the forty sacraments and has the eight good qualities, enters into union with Brahm[=a] and into the heaven of Brahm[=a]"; and these eight good qualities are mercy, forbearance, freedom from envy, purity, calmness, correct behavior, freedom from greed and from covetousness. Nevertheless with the Brahman this is adventitious, with the Buddhist it is essential.

These Four Great Truths are given to the world first at Benares, whither Buddha went in order to preach to the five ascetics that had deserted him. His conversation with them shows us another side of Buddhistic ethics. The five monks, when they saw Buddha approaching, jeered, and said: "Here is the one that failed in his austerities." Buddha tells them to acknowledge him as their master, and that he is the Enlightened One. "How," they ask, "if you could not succeed in becoming a Buddha by asceticism, can we suppose that you become one by indulgence?" Buddha tells them that neither voluptuousness nor asceticism is the road that leads to Nirv[=a]na; that he, Buddha, has found the middle path between the two extremes, the note is struck that is neither too high nor too low. The five monks are converted when they hear the Four Great Truths and the Eightfold Path, and there are now six holy ones on earth, Buddha and his five disciples.

Significant also is the social status of Buddha's first conversion. It is 'the rich youth' of Benares that flock about him,[16] of whom sixty soon are counted, and these are sent out into all the lands to preach the gospel, each to speak in his own tongue, for religion was from this time on no longer to be hid behind the veil of an unintelligible language. And it is not only the aristocracy of wealth that attaches itself to the new teacher and embraces his doctrines with enthusiasm. The next converts are a thousand Brahman priests, who constituted a religious body under the leadership of three ascetic Brahmans. It is described in the old writings how these priests were still performing their Vedic rites when Buddha came again to Bodhi Gay[=a] and found them there. They were overcome with astonishment as they saw his power over the King of Snakes that lived among them. The gods—for Buddhism, if not Buddha, has much to do with the gods—descend from heaven to hear him, and other marvels take place. The Brahmans are all converted. The miracles and the numbers may be stripped off, but thus denuded the truth still remains as important as it is plain. Priests of Brahman caste were among the first to adopt Buddhism. The popular effect of the teaching must have been great, for one reads how, when Buddha, after this great conversion, begins his victorious wanderings in Beh[=a]r (M[=a]gadha), he converted so many of the young nobles that—since conversion led to the immediate result of renunciation—the people murmured, saying that Gautama (Gotama) was robbing them of their youth.[17]

From this time on Buddha's life was spent in wandering about and preaching the new creed mainly to the people of Beh[=a]r and Oude (K[=a]çi-Kosala, the realm of Benares-Oude), his course extending from the (Ir[=a]vati) Rapti river in the north to R[=a]jagriha (gaha, now Rajgir) south of Beh[=a]r, while he spent the vasso or rainy season in one of the parks, many of which were donated to him by wealthy members of the fraternity.[18]

Wherever he went he was accompanied with a considerable number of followers, and one reads of pilgrims from distant places coming to see and converse with him. The number of his followers appears to have been somewhat exaggerated by the later writers, since Buddha himself, when prophesying of the next Buddha, the "Buddha of love" (Maitreya) says that, whereas he himself has hundreds of followers, the next Buddha will lead hundreds of thousands.

Although, theoretically, all the castes give up their name, and, when united in the Buddhistic brotherhood, become "like rivers that give up their identity and unite in the one ocean," yet were most of the early recruits, as has been said, from influential and powerful families; and it is a tenet of Buddhism in regard to the numerous Buddhas, which have been born[19] and are still to be born on earth, that no Buddha can be born in a low caste.

The reason for this lies as much as anything in the nature of the Buddhistic system which is expressly declared to be "for the wise, not for the foolish." It was not a system based as such on love or on any democratic sentiment. It was a philosophical exposition of the causal nexus of birth and freedom from re-birth. The common man, untrained in logic, might adopt the teaching, but he could not understand it. The "Congregation of the son of the Ç[=a]kyas"—such was the earliest name for the Buddhistic brotherhood—were required only to renounce their family, put on the yellow robe, assume the tonsure and other outward signs, and be chaste and high-minded. But the teachers were instructed in the subtleties of the 'Path,' and it needed no little training to follow the leader's thought to its logical conclusion.

Of Buddha's life, besides the circumstances already narrated little is known. Of his disciples the best beloved was [=A]nanda, his own cousin, whose brother was the Judas of Buddhism. The latter, Devadatta by name, conspired to kill Buddha in order that he himself might get the post of honor. But hell opened and swallowed him up. He appears to have had convictions of Jain tendency, for before his intrigue he preached against Buddha, and formulated reactionary propositions which inculcated a stricter asceticism than that taught by the Master.[20]

It has been denied that the early church contained lay members as well as monks, but Oldenberg appears to have set the matter right (p. 165) in showing that the laity, from the beginning, were a recognized part of the general church. The monk (bhikshu, bhikku) was formally enrolled as a disciple, wore the gown and tonsure, etc. The lay brother, 'reverer' (up[=a]saka) was one that assented to the doctrine and treated the monks kindly. There were, at first, only men in the congregation, for Buddhism took a view as unfavorable to woman as did Jainism. But at his foster-mother's request Buddha finally admitted nuns as well as monks into his fold. When [=A]nanda asks how a monk should act in presence of a woman Buddha says 'avoid to look at her'; but if it be necessary to look, 'do not speak to her'; but if it be necessary to speak, 'then keep wide awake, [=A]nanda.'[21]

Buddha died in the fifth century. Rhys Davids, who puts the date later than most scholars, gives, as the time of the great Nirv[=a]na, the second decade from the end of the fourth century. On the other hand, Bühler and Müller reckon the year as 477, while Oldenberg says 'about 480.'[22] From Buddha's own words, as reported by tradition, he was eighty years old at the time of his death, and if one allots him thirty-six years as his age when he became independent of masters, his active life would be one of forty-four years. It was probably less than this, however, for some years must be added to the first seven of ascetic practices before he took the field as a preacher.

The story of Buddha's death is told simply and clearly. He crossed the Ganges, where at that time was building the town of Patna (P[=a]taliputta, 'Palibothra'), and prophesied its future greatness (it was the chief city of India for centuries after); then, going north from R[=a]jagriha, in Beh[=a]r, and V[=a]iç[=a]l[=i], he proceeded to a point east of Gorukhpur (Kasia). Tradition thus makes him wander over the most familiar places till he comes back almost to his own country. There, in the region known to him as a youth, weighed down with years and ill-health, but surrounded by his most faithful disciples, he died. Not unaffecting is the final scene.[23]

'Now the venerable [=A]nanda (Buddha's beloved disciple) went into the cloister-building, and stood leaning against the lintel of the door and weeping at the thought: "Alas! I remain still but a learner, one who has yet to work out his own perfection. And the Master is about to pass away from me—he who is so kind." Then the Blessed One called the brethren and said: "Where then, brethren, is [=A]nanda?" "The venerable [=A]nanda (they replied) has gone into the cloister-building and stands leaning against the lintel of the door, weeping." … And the Blessed One called a certain brother, and said "Go now, brother, and call [=A]nanda in my name and say, 'Brother [=A]nanda, thy Master calls for thee.'" "Even so, Lord," said that brother, and he went up to where [=A]nanda was, and said to the venerable [=A]nanda: "Brother [=A]nanda, thy Master calls for thee." "It is well, brother," said the venerable [=A]nanda, and he went to the place where Buddha was. And when he was come thither he bowed down before the Blessed One, and took his seat on one side. Then the Blessed One said to the venerable [=A]nanda, as he sat there by his side: "Enough, [=A]nanda, let not thyself be troubled; weep not. Have I not told thee already that we must divide ourselves from all that is nearest and dearest? How can it be possible that a being born to die should not die? For a long time, [=A]nanda, hast thou been very near to me by acts of love that is kind and good and never varies, and is beyond all measure. (This Buddha repeats three times.) Thou hast done well. Be earnest in effort. Thou, too, shalt soon be free." … When he had thus spoken, the venerable [=A]nanda said to the Blessed One: "Let not the Blessed One die in this little wattle and daub town, a town in the midst of the jungle, in this branch township. For, Lord, there are other great cities such as Benares (and others). Let the Blessed One die in one of them."'

This request is refused by Buddha. [=A]nanda then goes to the town and tells the citizens that Buddha is dying. 'Now, when they had heard this saying, they, With their young men and maidens and wives were grieved, and sad, and afflicted at heart. And some of them wept, dishevelling their hair, and stretched forth their arms, and wept, fell prostrate on the ground and rolled to and fro, in anguish at the thought "Too soon will the Blessed One die! Too soon will the Happy One pass away! Full soon will the Light of the world vanish away!"' … When Buddha is alone again with his disciples, 'then the Blessed One addressed the brethren and said "It may be, brethren, that there may be doubt or misgiving in the mind of some brother as to the Buddha, the truth, the path or the way. Inquire, brethren, freely. Do not have to reproach yourselves afterwards with this thought: 'Our Teacher was face to face with us, and we could not bring ourselves to inquire of the Blessed One when we were face to face with him.'" And when he had thus spoken they sat silent. Then (after repeating these words and receiving no reply) the Blessed One addressed the brethren and said, "It may be that you put no questions out of reverence for the Teacher. Let one friend communicate with another." And when he had thus spoken the brethren sat silent. And the venerable [=A]nanda said: "How wonderful a thing, Lord, and how marvellous. Verily, in this whole assembly, there is not one brother who has doubt or misgiving as to Buddha, the truth, the path or the way." Then Buddha said: "It is out of the fullness of thy faith that thou hast spoken, [=A]nanda. But I know it for certain." … Then the Blessed One addressed the brethren saying: "Behold, brethren, I exhort you saying, transitory are all component things; toil without ceasing." And these were the last words of Buddha.'

It is necessary here to make pause for a moment and survey the temporal and geographical circumstances of Buddha's life. His lifetime covered the period of greatest intellectual growth in Athens. If, as some think, the great book of doubt[24] was written by the Hebrew in 450, there would be in three lands, at least, about the same time the same earnestly scornful skepticism in regard to the worn-out teachings of the fathers. But at a time when, in Greece, the greatest minds were still veiling infidelity as best they could, in India atheism was already formulated.

It has been questioned, and the question has been answered both affirmatively and negatively, whether the climatic conditions of Buddha's home were in part responsible for the pessimistic tone of his philosophy. If one compare the geographical relation of Buddhism to Brahmanism and to Vedism respectively with a more familiar geography nearer home, he will be better able to judge in how far these conditions may have influenced the mental and religious tone. Taking Kabul and Kashmeer as the northern limit of the period of the Rig Veda, there are three geographical centres. The latitude of the Vedic poets corresponds to about the southern boundary of Tennessee and North Carolina. The entire tract covered by the southern migration to the time of Buddhism, extending from Kabul to a point that corresponds to Benares (35° is a little north of Kabul and 25° is a little south of Beh[=a]r), would be represented loosely in the United States by the difference between the northern line of Mississippi and Key West. The extent of Georgia about represents in latitude the Vedic province (35° to 30°), while Florida (30° to 25°) roughly shows the southern progress from the seat of old Brahmanism to the cradle of young Buddhism. These are the extreme limits of Vedism, Brahmanism and proto-Buddhism. South of this the country was known to Brahmanism only to be called savage, and not before the late S[=u]tras (c. 300 B.C.) is one brought as far south as Bombay in the West. The [=A]itareya Br[=a]hmana, which represents the old centre of Brahmanism around Delhi, knows of the [=A]ndhras, south of the God[=a]var[=i] river in the southeast (about the latitude of Bombay and Hayti), only as outer 'Barbarians.' It is quite conceivable that a race of hardy mountaineers, in shifting their home through generations from the hills of Georgia and Tennessee to the sub-tropical region of Key West (to Cuba), in the course of many centuries might become morally affected. But it seems to us, although the miasmatic plains of Bengal may perhaps present even a sharper contrast to the Vedic region than do Key West and Cuba to Georgia, that the climate in effecting a moral degradation (if pessimism be immoral) must have produced also the effect of mental debility. Now to our mind there is not the slightest proof for the asseveration, which has been repeated so often that it is accepted by many nowadays as a truism, that Buddhism or even post-Buddhistic literature shows any trace of mental decay.[25] There certainly is mental weakness in the Br[=a]hmanas, but these cannot all be accredited to the miasms of Bengal. They are the bones of a religion already dead, kept for instruction in a cabinet; dry, dusty, lifeless, but awful to the beholder and useful to the owner. Again, does Buddhism lose in the comparison from an intellectual point of view when set beside the mazy gropings of the Upanishads? We have shown that dogma was the base of primal pantheism; of real logic there is not a whit. We admire the spirit of the teachers in the Upanishads, but we have very little respect for the logical ability of any early Hindu teachers; that is to say, there is very little of it to admire. The doctors of the Upanishad philosophy were poets, not dialecticians. Poetry indeed waned in the extreme south, and no spirited or powerful literature ever was produced there, unless it was due to foreign influence, such as the religious poetry of Ramaism and the Tamil Sittars. But in secondary subtlety and in the marking of distinctions, in classifying and analyzing on dogmatic premises, as well as in the acceptance of hearsay truths as ultimate verities—we do not see any fundamental disparity in these regards between the mind of the Northwest and that of the Southeast; and what superficial difference exists goes to the credit of Buddhism. For if one must have dogma it is something to have system, and while precedent theosophy was based on the former it knew nothing of the latter. Moreover, in Buddhism there is a greater intellectual vigor than in any phase of Brahmanism (as distinct from Vedism). To cast off not only gods but soul, and more, to deny the moral efficacy of asceticism this was a leap into the void, to appreciate the daring of which one has but to read himself into the priestly literature of Buddha's rivals, both heterodox and orthodox. We see then in Buddhism neither a debauched moral type, nor a weakened intellectuality. The pessimism of Buddhism, so far as it concerns earth, is not only the same pessimism that underlies the religious motive of Brahmanic pantheism, but it is the same pessimism that pervades Christianity and even Hebraism. This world is a sorry place, living is suffering; do thou escape from it. The pleasures of life are vanity; do thou renounce them. "To die is gain," says the apostle; and the Preacher: "I have seen all the works that are done under the sun and behold all is vanity and vexation of spirit. He that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow. For what hath man of all his labor and of the vexation of his heart, wherein he hath laboured under the sun? For all his days are sorrows and his travail grief. That which befalleth the sons of men befalleth beasts; even one thing befalleth them: as the one dieth so dieth the other; yea, they have all one breath; so that a man hath no preeminence above a beast: for all is vanity. All go unto one place; all are of the dust, and all turn to dust again. Who knoweth the spirit of man whether it goeth upward? I praised the dead which are already dead more than the living which are yet alive. The dead know not anything, their love and their hatred and their envy is now perished; neither have they any more a portion for ever in any thing that is done under the sun. The wandering of the desire, this also is vanity."

The Preacher is a fairly good Buddhist.

If pessimism be the conviction that life on earth is not worth living, this view is shared alike by the greatest of earth's religions. If pessimism be the view that all beauty ends with life and that beyond it there is nothing for which it is worth while to live, then India has no parallel to this Homeric belief. If, however, pessimism mean that to have done with existence on earth is the best that can happen to a man, but that there is bliss beyond, then this is the opinion of Brahmanism, Jainism, and Christianity. Buddhism alone teaches that to live on earth is weariness, that there is no bliss beyond, and that one should yet be calm, pure, loving, and wise.

How could such a religion inspire enthusiasm? How could it send forth jubilant disciples to preach the gospel of joy? Yet did Buddhism do even this. Not less happy and blissful than were they that received the first comfort of pantheism were the apostles of Buddha. His progress was a triumph of gladness. They that believed in him rejoiced and hastened to their fellows with the good tidings. Was it then a new morality, a new ethical code, that thus inspired them? Let one but look at the vows and commandments respectively taken by and given to the Buddhist monk, and he will see that in Buddhism there is no new morality.

The Ten Vows are as follows:

I take the vow not to kill; not to steal; to abstain from impurity; not to lie; to abstain from intoxicating drinks which hinder progress and virtue; not to eat at forbidden times; to abstain from dancing, singing, music and stage plays; not to use garlands, scents, unguents, or ornaments; not to use a high or broad bed; not to receive gold or silver.

The Eight Commandments are as follows:

Do not kill; do not steal; do not lie; do not drink intoxicating drinks; do not commit fornication or adultery; do not eat unseasonable food at night; do not wear garlands or use perfumes; sleep on a mat spread on the ground.

The first five of these commands are given to every Buddhist, monk, or layman; the last three are binding only on the monk.[26]

These laws and rules were, however, as we have indicated in the chapter on Jainism, the common property, with some unimportant variations and exceptions, of the Brahman ascetic, the Jain, and the Buddhist. There was surely nothing here to rouse especial interest. No. But there was one side of Buddhism that was new, not absolutely new, for it formed part of the moral possession of that early band which we may call the congregation of the Spirit. The Brahman theoretically had done away with penance and with prayer, with the Vedic gods and with the Vedic rites. Yet was it impossible for him practically to absolve the folk of these. The priest might admit that he knew a better way to salvation, but he still led the people over the hard old road, and he himself went that way also, because it was the way of the fathers, because it was the only way for them that were unwise, and perhaps, too, because it was the only way in which the priest could keep his place as guide and leader of the people.

Jainism smote down some of the obstacles that the Brahman had built and kept. Mah[=a]v[=i]ra made the way to salvation shorter, but he did not make it easier for the masses. Asceticism, self-mortification, starvation, torture,—this was his means of gaining happiness hereafter.

But Buddha cut down all obstacles. He made the lowest equal with the highest. It is true that he was no democrat. It is true that his success depended, in great part, on political influence, on the conversion of kings and nobles, men of his own class. It is true also that Buddha at first, like every other Hindu theosophist, sought no salvation for the world around him, but only for himself. But he was moved with pity for the multitude. And why? The sages among them knew no path to happiness save through life-long torture; the common people knew only a religion of rites in which they took no interest, the very words of which were unintelligible; and its priests in their eyes, if not contemptible, at least were unsympathetic. And at the same time the old caste-system oppressed and insulted them. It is evident that the times were ripe for a more humane religion and a new distribution of social privileges. Then Buddha arose and said: "He that is pure in heart is the true priest, not he that knows the Veda. Like unto one that standeth where a king hath stood and spoken, and standing and speaking there deems himself for this a king, seems to me the man that repeateth the hymns, which the wise men of old have spoken, and standing in their place and speaking, deems himself for this a sage. The Vedas are nothing, the priests are of no account, save as they be morally of repute. Again, what use to mortify the flesh? Asceticism is of no value. Be pure, be good; this is the foundation of wisdom—to restrain desire, to be satisfied with little. He is a holy man who doeth this. Knowledge follows this."

Here is the essence of Buddhism, here is its power; and when one reflects that Buddha added: "Go into all lands and preach this gospel; tell them that the poor and lowly, the rich and high, are all one, and that all castes unite in this religion, as unite the rivers in the sea"—he will understand what key was used to open the hearts of Buddha's kinsmen and people.

But, it will be said, there is nothing in this of that extreme pessimism, of which mention has just been made. True. And this, again, is an important point to bear in mind, that whereas the logic of his own system led Buddha into a formal and complete pessimism, which denies an after-life to the man that finds no happiness in this, he yet never insists upon this. He not only does not insist, but in his talks with his questioners and disciples he uses all means to evade direct inquiry in regard to the fate of man after death. He believed that Nirv[=a]na (extinction of lust) led to cessation of being; he did not believe in an immortal soul. But he urged no such negative doctrine as this. What he urged repeatedly was that every one accepting the undisputed doctrine of karma or re-birth in its full extent (i.e., that for every sin here, punishment followed in the next existence), should endeavor to escape, if possible, from such an endless course of painful re-births, and that to accomplish this it was necessary first to be sober and good, then to be learned, but not to be an ascetic. On the other hand the doctrine, in its logical fullness, was a teaching only for the wise, not for fools. He imparted it only to the wise. What is one to understand from this? Clearly, that Buddha regarded the mass of his disciples as standing in need merely of the Four Great Truths, the confession of which was the sign of becoming a disciple; while to the strong and wise he reserved the logical pessimism, which resulted from his first denials and the premises of causality on which was created his complicated system. Only thus can one comprehend the importance of Buddhism to his own time and people, only in this light reconcile the discrepancy between the accounts of a religion which roused multitudes to enthusiasm and joy, while on the other hand it stood on the cold basis of complete nihilism. Formally there was not an esoteric[27] and exoteric Buddhism, but practically what the apostles taught, what Buddha himself taught to the mass of his hearers was a release from the bondage of the law and the freedom of a high moral code as the one thing needful. But he never taught that sacrifice was a bad thing; he never either took the priest's place himself or cast scorn upon the Brahman caste: "Better even than a harmless[28] sacrifice is liberality" he says, "better than liberality is faith and kindness (non-injury) and truth, better than faith, kindness, and truth is renunciation of the world and the search for peace; best of all, the highest sacrifice and greatest good, is when one enters Nirv[=a]na, saying "I shall not return again to earth." This is to be an Arhat (Perfect Sage).

These are Buddha's own words as he spoke with a Brahman priest,[29] who was converted thereby and replied at once with the Buddhist's confession of faith: "I take refuge in Buddha, in the doctrine, in the church."

A significant conversation! In many ways these words should be corrective of much that is hazarded today in regard to Buddhism. There is here no elaborate system of metaphysics. Wisdom consists in the truth as it is in Buddha; and before truth stand, as antecedently essential, faith and kindness; for so may one render the passive non-injury of the Brahman as taught by the Buddhist. To have faith and good works, to renounce the pomps and vanities of life, to show kindness to every living thing, to seek for salvation, to understand, and so finally to leave no second self behind to suffer again, this is Buddha's doctrine.

We have avoided thus far to define Nirv[=a]na. It has three distinct meanings, eternal blissful repose (such was the Nirv[=a]na of the Jains and in part of Buddhism), extinction and absolute annihilation (such was the Nirv[=a]na of some Buddhists), and the Nirv[=a]na of Buddha himself. Nirv[=a]na meant to Buddha the extinction of lust, anger, and ignorance. He adopted the term, he did not invent it. He was often questioned, but persistently refused to say whether he believed that Nirv[=a]na implied extinction of being or not. We believe that in this refusal to speak on so vital a point lies the evidence that he himself regarded the 'extinction' or 'blowing out' (this is what the word means literally) as resulting in annihilation. Had he believed otherwise we think he would not have hesitated to say so, for it would have strengthened his influence among them to whom annihilation was not a pleasing thought.

But one has no right to 'go behind the returns' as these are given by Buddha. The later church says distinctly that Buddha himself did not teach whether he himself, his ego, was to live after death or not; or whether a permanent ego exists. It is useless, therefore, to inquire whether Buddha's Nirv[=a]na be a completion, as Müller defines it, or annihilation. To one Buddhistic party it was the one; to the other, the other; to Buddha himself it was what may be inferred from his refusal to make any declaration in regard to it.

The second point of interest is not more easily disposed of. What to the Buddhist is the spirit, the soul of man? It certainly is not an eternal spirit, such as was the spirit of Brahmanic philosophy, or that of the Jain. But, on the other hand, it is clear that something survived after death till one was reborn for the last time, and then entered Nirv[=a]na. The part that animates the material complex is to the Buddhist an individuality which depends on the nature of its former complex, home, and is destined to project itself upon futurity till the house which it has built ceases to exist, a home rebuilt no more to be its tabernacle. When a man dies the component parts of his material personality fall apart, and a new complex is formed, of which the individuality is the effect of the karma of the preceding complex. The new person is one's karmic self, but it is not one's identical ego. There appears, therefore, even in the doctrine of Nirv[=a]na, to lie something of that altruism so conspicuous in the insistence on kindness and conversion of others. It is to save from sorrow this son of one's acts that one should seek to find the end. But there is no soul to save.

We cannot insist too often on the fact that the religion of Buddha was not less practical than human. He practiced, as he taught, that the more one worked for others, was devoted to others, the less he cared for himself, the less was he the victim of desire. Hence he says that a true Nirv[=a]na may come even in one's own lifetime—the utter surrender of one's self is Nirv[=a]na,[30] while the act of dying only draws the curtain after the tragedy has ended. "Except," Buddha says, "for birth, age, and death, there would be no need of Buddha."

A review of Buddha's system of metaphysics is, therefore, doubly unnecessary for our present purpose.[31] In the first place we believe that most of the categories and metaphysical niceties of Buddhism, as handed down, are of secondary origin; and, were this not so, it is still evident that they were but the unimportant, intellectual appendage of a religion that was based on anything but metaphysical subtleties. Buddha, like every other teacher of his time, had to have a 'system,' though whether the system handed down as his reverts to him it is impossible to say. But Buddha's recondite doctrine was only for the wise. "It is hard to learn for an ordinary person," says Buddha himself. But it was the ordinary person that Buddhism took to its bosom. The reason can be only the one we have given. For the last stage before Arhat-ship Buddha had ready a complicate system. But he did not inflict it on the ordinary person.[32] It was not an essential but the completing of his teaching; in his own eyes truth as represented by the Four Great Truths was the real doctrine.

The religion of Buddha, for the mass of people, lies in the Four Great Truths and their practical application to others, which implies kindness and love of humanity. For Buddha, whatever may have been the reluctance with which he began to preach, shows in all his teachings and dealings with men an enduring patience under their rebuffs, a brotherly sympathy with their weakness, and a divine pity for their sorrows. Something, too, of divine anger with the pettiness and meanness of the unworthy ones among his followers, as when, after preaching with parable and exhortation to the wrangling brothers of the monastery of Kosamb[=i], he left them, saying, "'Truly these fools are infatuate; it is no easy task to administer instruction to them,' and," it is added simply, "he rose from his seat and went away."[33]

The significance of the church organization in the development of Buddhism should not be under-estimated. Contrasted with the lack of an organized ecclesiastical corporation among the Brahmans the Buddhistic synod, or congregation, Sangha, exerted a great influence. In different places there would be a park set apart for the Buddhist monks. Here they had their monastery buildings, here they lived during the rainy season, from this place out as a centre the monks radiated through the country, not as lone mendicants, but as members of a powerful fraternity. To this monastery came gifts, receipts of all kinds that never would have been bestowed upon individuals. Undoubtedly organization did much for the spread of Buddhism. Yet we think its influence has been emphasized almost too much by some scholars, or rather the effect has been represented as too radical. For the monasteries, as represented by tradition, with their immense wealth and political importance as allies of the heretical kings of the East, are plainly of secondary growth. If one limit their national and political importance to a period one or two hundred years after the Master's time, he will not err in attributing to this cause, as does Barth, the reason for the rapid rise and supremacy of Buddhism over India. But the first beginnings of the institution were small, and what is to be sought in the beginning of Buddhism is rather the reason why the monasteries became popular, and what was the hold which Buddha had upon the masses, and which induced the formation of this great engine of religious war. And when this first question is raised the answer must still be that the banding together of the monks was not the cause but the effect of the popularity of Buddhism. The first monasteries, as Barth well says, were only assemblies of pious men who formed a spiritual band of religious thinkers, of men who united themselves into one body to the end that they might study righteousness, learning together how to imitate the Master in holiness of living. But the members converted soon became so many that formal assemblies became a necessity to settle the practical disputes and theoretical questions which were raised by the new multitude of believers, some of whom were more factious than devout. Brahmanism had no need of this. The Brahman priest had his law in tradition; his life and conduct were regulated by immemorial law. The corporations of these priests were but temporary organizations for specific purposes. They made no attempt to proselytize. Their members never exceeded the bounds of the caste. The cause, then, of the rapid spread of Buddhism at the beginning of its career lies only in the conditions of its teaching and the influential backing of its founder. It was the individual Buddha that captivated men; it was the teaching that emanated from him that fired enthusiasm; it was his position as an aristocrat that made him acceptable to the aristocracy, his magnetism that made him the idol of the people. From every page stands out the strong, attractive personality of this teacher and winner of hearts. No man ever lived so godless yet so godlike. Arrogating to himself no divinity, despairing of future bliss, but without fear as without hope, leader of thought but despising lovingly the folly of the world, exalted but adored, the universal brother, he wandered among men, simply, serenely; with gentle irony subduing them that opposed him, to congregation after congregation speaking with majestic sweetness, the master to each, the friend of all. His voice was singularly vibrant and eloquent;[34] his very tones convinced the hearer, his looks inspired awe. From the tradition it appears that he must have been one of those whose personality alone suffices to make a man not only a leader but a god to the hearts of his fellows. When such an one speaks he obtains hearers. It matters little what he says, for he influences the emotions, and bends whoever listens to his will. But if added to this personality, if encompassing it, there be the feeling in the minds of others that what this man teaches is not only a verity, but the very hope of their salvation; if for the first time they recognize in his words the truth that makes of slaves free men, of classes a brotherhood, then it is not difficult to see wherein lies the lightning-like speed with which the electric current passes from heart to heart. Such a man was Buddha, such was the essential of his teaching; and such was the inevitable rapidity of Buddhistic expansion, and the profound influence of the shock that was produced by the new faith upon the moral consciousness of Buddha's people.

The literature of early Buddhism consists of a number of historical works embodying the life and teaching of the master, some of more didactic and epigrammatic intent, and, in the writings of the Northern Buddhists, some that have given up the verbose simplicity of the first tracts in favor of tasteless and extravagant recitals more stagey than impressive. The final collection of the sacred books (earlier is the Suttanta division into Nik[=a]yas) is called Tripitaka, 'the three baskets,' one containing the tracts on discipline; one, the talks of Buddha; and one, partly metaphysical; called respectively Vinaya, Sutta, and Abhidhamma. The Southern[35] P[=a]li redaction—for the writings of the Northern[36] Buddhists are in Sanskrit—was commented upon in the fifth century of this era by Buddha-gosha ('Buddha's glory'), and appears to be older than the Sanskrit version of Nep[=a]l. Some of the writings go back as far as the Second Council, and their content, so far as it concerns Buddha's own words, in many cases is doubtless a tradition that one should accept as authoritative. The works on discipline, instead of being as dull as one might reasonably expect of books that deal with the petty details of a monastery, are of exceeding interest (although whole chapters conform to the reasonable expectation), for they contain fragments of the work and words of Buddha which give a clearer idea of his personality and teaching than do his more extended, and perhaps less original discourses. They throw a strong light also on the early church, its recalcitrant as well as its obedient members, the quarrels and schisms that appear to have arisen even before Buddha's death. Thus in the Mah[=a]vagga (ch. X) there is found an account of the schism caused by the expulsion of some unworthy members. The brethren are not only schismatic, some taking the side of those expelled, but they are even insolent to Buddha; and when he entreats them for the sake of the effect on the outer world to heal their differences,[37] they tell him to his face that they will take the responsibility, and that he need not concern himself with the matter. It is on this occasion that Buddha says, "Truly, these fools are infatuate," leaves them, and goes into solitude, rejoicing to be free from souls so quarrelsome and contentious. Again these tracts give a picture of how they should live that are truly Buddha's disciples. Buddha finds three disciples living in perfect harmony, and asks them how they live together so peaceably and lovingly. In quaint and yet dignified language they reply, and tell him that they serve each other. He that rises first prepares the meal, he that returns last at night puts the room in order, etc. (ib. 4). Occasionally in the account of unruly brothers it is evident that tradition must be anticipating, or that many joined the Buddhist fraternity as an excuse from restraint. The Cullavagga opens with the story of two notorious renegades, 'makers of strife, quarrelsome, makers of dispute, given to idle talk, and raisers of legal questions in the congregation.' Such were the infamous followers of Panduka and Lohitaka. Of a different sort, Epicurean or rather frivolous, were the adherents of Assaji and Punabbasu, who, according to another chapter of the Cullavagga (I. 13), 'cut flowers, planted cuttings of flowers, used ointment and scents, danced, wore garlands, and revelled wickedly.' A list of the amusements in which indulged these flighty monks includes 'games played with six and ten pieces, tossing up, hopping over diagrams, dice, jackstraws,[38] ball, sketching, racing, marbles, wrestling,' etc; to which a like list (Tevijja, II) adds chess or checkers ('playing with a board of sixty-four squares or one hundred squares'), ghost stories, and unseemly wrangling in regard to belief ("I am orthodox, you are heterodox"), earning a living by prognostication, by taking omens 'from a mirror' or otherwise, by quack medicines, and by 'pretending to understand the language of beasts.' It is gratifying to learn that the scented offenders described in the first-mentioned work were banished from the order. According to the regular procedure, they were first warned, then reminded, then charged; then the matter was laid before the congregation, and they were obliged to leave the order. Even the detail of Subhadda's insolence is not wanting in these records (Cull. XI. 1. and elsewhere). No sooner was Buddha dead than the traitor Subhadda cries out: "We are well rid of him; he gave us too many rules. Now we may do as we like." On which the assembly proceeded to declare in force all the rules that Buddha had given, although he had left it to them to discard them when they would. The Confessional (P[=a]timokkha), out of which have been evolved in narrative form the Vinaya texts that contain it, concerns graded offences, matters of expiation, rules regarding decency, directions concerning robes, rugs, bowls, and other rather uninteresting topics, all discussed in the form of a confession.[39] The church-reader goes over the rules in the presence of the congregation, and asks at the end of each section whether any one is guilty of having broken this rule. If at the third repetition no one responds, he says, 'They are declared innocent by their silence.' This was the first public confessional, although, as we have shown above, the idea of a partial remission of sin by means of confession to the priest is found in Brahmanic literature.[40] The confession extends to very small matters, but one sees from other texts that the early congregation laid a great deal of weight on details, such as dress, as the sign of a sober life. Thus in Mah[=a]vagga, V. 2 ff., certain Buddhists dress in a worldly way. At one time one is informed of the color of their heretical slippers, at another of the make of their wicked gowns. All this is monastic, even in the discipline which 'sets back' a badly behaved monk, gives him probation, forces him to be subordinate. In Cullavagga, I. 9, there is an account of stupid Seyyasaka, who was dull and indiscreet, and was always getting 'set back' by the brethren. Finally they grow weary of probating him and carry out the nissaya against him, obliging him to remain under the superintendence of others. For, according to Buddha's rule, a wise novice was kept under surveillance, or rather under the authority of others, for five years; a stupid uninformed monk, forever. Buddha's relations with society are plainly set forth. One reads how his devoted friend, King Seniya Bimbis[=a]ra, four years younger than Buddha, and his protector (for he was King of M[=a]gadha), gives him a park, perhaps the first donation of this sort, the origin of all the monastic foundations: "The King of M[=a]gadha, Bimbis[=a]ra, thought 'here is this bamboo forest Venuvana, my pleasure-garden, which is neither too near to the town nor too far from it…. What if I were to give it to the fraternity?' … And he took a golden vessel (of water) and dedicated the garden to Buddha, saying, 'I give up the park to the fraternity with Buddha at its head.' And the Blessed One accepted the park" (Mah[=a]vagga, i. 22).[41] Another such park Buddha accepts from the courtezan, Ambap[=a]li, whose conversation with Buddha and dinner-party to him forms a favorite story with the monks (Mah[=a]v. v. 30; Cull. ii). The protection offered by Bimbis[=a]ra made the order a fine retreat for rogues. In Mah[=a]v. 1. 41 ff. one reads that King Seniya Bimbis[=a]ra made a decree: "No one is to do any harm to those ordained among the Ç[=a]kya-son's monks.[42] Well taught is their doctrine. Let them lead a holy life for the sake of complete extinction of suffering." But robbers and runaway slaves immediately took advantage of this decree, and by joining the order put the police at defiance. Even debtors escaped, became monks, and mocked their creditors. Buddha, therefore, made it a rule that no robber, runaway slave, or other person liable to arrest should be admitted into the order. He ordained further that no son might join the order without his parents' consent (ib. 54). Still another motive of false disciples had to be combated. The parents of Up[=a]li thought to themselves: "What shalt we teach Up[=a]li that he may earn his living? If we teach him writing his fingers will be sore; if we teach him arithmetic his mind will be sore; if we teach him money-changing his eyes will be sore. There are those Buddhist monks; they live an easy life; they have enough to eat and shelter from the rain; we will make him a monk." Buddha, hearing of this, ordained that no one should be admitted into the order under twenty (with some exceptions).

The monks' lives were simple. They went out by day to beg, were locked in their cells at night (Mah[=a]v. i. 53), were probated for light offences, and expelled for very severe ones.[43] The people are represented as murmuring against the practices of the monks at first, till the latter were brought to more modest behavior. It is perhaps only Buddhist animosity that makes the narrator say: "They did not behave modestly at table…. Then the people murmured and said, 'These Buddhist monks make a riot at their meals, they act just like the Brahman priests.'" (Mah[=a]v. i. 25; cf. i. 70.)

We turn from the Discipline to the Sermons. Here one finds everything, from moral exhortations to a book of Revelations.[44] Buddha sometimes is represented as entering upon a dramatic dialogue with those whom he wishes to reform, and the talk is narrated. With what soft irony he questions, with what apparent simplicity he argues! In the Tevijja[45] the scene opens with a young Brahman. He is a pious and religious youth, and tells Buddha that although he yearns for 'union with Brahm[=a],'[46] he does not know which of the different paths proposed by Brahman priests lead to Brahm[=a]. Do they all lead to union with Brahm[=a]? Buddha answers: 'Let us see; has any one of these Brahmans ever seen Brahm[=a]?' 'No, indeed, Gautama.' 'Or did any one of their ancestors ever see Brahm[=a]?' 'No, Gautama.' 'Well, did the most ancient seers ever say that they knew where is Brahm[=a]?' 'No, Gautama.' 'Then if neither the present Brahmans know, nor the old Brahmans knew where is Brahm[=a], the present Brahmans say in point of fact, "We can show the way to union with what we know not and have never seen; this is the straight path, this is the direct way which leads to Brahm[=a]"—and is this foolish talk?' 'It is foolish talk.' 'Then, as to yearning for union with Brahm[=a], suppose a man should say, "How I long for, how I love the most beautiful woman in this land," and the people should ask, "Do you know whether that beautiful woman is a noble lady, or a Brahman woman, or of the trader class, or a slave?" and he should say, "No"; and the people should say, "What is her name, is she tall or short, in what place does she live?" and he should say, "I know not," and the people should say, "Whom you know not, neither have seen, her you love and long for?" and he should say, "Yes,"—would not that be foolish? Then, after this is assented to, Buddha suggests another parallel. 'A man builds a staircase, and the people ask, "Do you know where is the mansion to which this staircase leads?" "I do not know." "Are you making a staircase to lead to something, taking it for a mansion, which you know not and have never seen?" "Yes." Would not this be foolish talk?… Now what think you, is Brahm[=a] in possession of wives and wealth?' 'He is not.'

'Is his mind full of anger or free from anger? Is his mind full of malice or free from malice?' 'Free from anger and malice.' 'Is his mind depraved or pure?' 'Pure.' 'Has he self-mastery?' 'Yes.' 'Now what think you, are the Brahmans in possession of wives and wealth, do they have anger in their hearts, do they bear malice, are they impure in heart, are they without self-mastery?' 'Yes.' 'Can there then be likeness between the Brahmans and Brahm[=a]?' 'No.' 'Will they then after death become united to Brahm[=a] who is not at all like them?' Then Buddha points out the path of purity and love. Here is no negative 'non-injury,' but something very different to anything that had been preached before in India. When the novice puts away hate, passion, wrong-doing, sinfulness of every kind, then: 'He lets his mind pervade the whole wide world, above, below, around and everywhere, with a heart of love, far-reaching, grown great, and beyond measure. And he lets his mind pervade the whole world with a heart of pity, sympathy, and equanimity, far-reaching, grown great, and beyond measure.' Buddha concludes (adopting for effect the Brahm[=a] of his convert): 'That the monk who is free from anger, free from malice, pure in mind, and master of himself should after death, when the body is dissolved, become united to Brahm[=a] who is the same—such a condition of things is quite possible' Here is no metaphysics, only a new religion based on morality and intense humanity, yet is the young man moved to say, speaking for himself and the friend with him: 'Lord, excellent are the words of thy mouth. As if one were to bring a lamp into the darkness, just so, Lord, has the truth been made known to us in many a figure by the Blessed One. And we come to Buddha as our refuge, to the doctrine and to the church. May the Blessed One accept us as disciples, as true believers, from this day forth, as long as life endures.'

The god Brahm[=a] of this dialoge is for the time being playfully accepted by Buddha as the All-god. To the Buddhist himself Brahm[=a] and all the Vedic gods are not exactly non-existent, but they are dim figures that are more like demi-gods, fairies, or as some English scholars call them, 'angels.' Whether Buddha himself really believed in them, cannot be asserted or denied. This belief is attributed to him, and his church is very superstitious. Probably Buddha did not think it worth while to discuss the question. He neither knew nor cared whether cloud-beings existed. It was enough to deny a Creator, or to leave no place for him. Thaumaturgical powers are indeed credited to the earliest belief, but there certainly is nothing in harmony with Buddha's usual attitude in the extraordinary discourse called [=A]kankheyya, wherein Buddha is represented as ascribing to monks miraculous powers only hinted at in a vague 'shaking of the earth' in more sober speech.[47] From the following let the 'Esoteric Buddhists' of to-day take comfort, for it shows at least that they share an ancient folly, although Buddha can scarcely be held responsible for it: "If a monk should desire to become multiform, to become visible or invisible, to go through a wall, a fence, or a mountain as if through air; to penetrate up or down through solid ground as if through water … to traverse the sky, to touch the moon … let him fulfil all righteousness, let him be devoted to that quietude of heart which springs from within … let him look through things, let him be much alone." That is to say, let him aim for the very tricks of the Yogis, which Buddha had discarded. Is there not here perhaps a little irony? Buddha does not say that the monk will be able to do this—he says if the monk wishes to do this, let him be quiet and meditate and learn righteousness, then perhaps—but he will at least have learned righteousness!

The little tract called Cetokhila contains a sermon which has not lost entirely its usefulness or application, and it is characteristic of the way in which Buddha treated eschatological conundrums: 'If a brother has adopted the religious life in the hope of belonging to some one of the angel (divine) hosts, thinking to himself, "by this morality or by this observance or by this austerity or by this religious life I shall become an angel," his mind does not incline to zeal, exertion, perseverance and struggle, and he has not succeeded in his religious life' (has not broken through the bonds). And, continuing, Buddha says that just as a hen might sit carefully brooding over her well-watched eggs, and might content herself with the wish, 'O that this egg would let out the chick,' but all the time there is no need of this torment, for the chicks will hatch if she keeps watch and ward over them, so a man, if he does not think what is to be, but keeps watch and ward of his words, thoughts, and acts, will 'come forth into the light.'[48]

The questions in regard to Buddha's view of soul, immortality, and religion are answered to our mind as clearly in the following passages as Buddha desired they should be. 'Unwisely does one consider: "Have I existed in ages past … shall I exist in ages yet to be, do I exist at all, am I, how am I? This is a being, whence is it come, whither will it go?" Consideration such as this is walking in the jungle of delusion. These are the things one should consider: "This is suffering, this is the origin of suffering, this is the cessation of suffering, this is the way that leads to the cessation of suffering." From him that considers thus his fetters fall away' (Sabb[=a]sava). In the Vang[=i]sa-sutta Buddha is asked directly: "Has this good man's life been vain to him, has he been extinguished, or is he still left with some elements of existence; and how was he liberated?" and he replies: "He has cut off desire for name and form in this world. He has crossed completely the stream of birth and death." In the Salla-sutta it is said: "Without cause and unknown is the life of mortals in this world, troubled, brief, combined with pain…. As earthen vessels made by the potter end in being broken, so is the life of mortals." One should compare the still stronger image, which gives the very name of nir-v[=a]na ('blowing out') in the Upas[=i]vam[=a]navapucch[=a]: "As a flame blown about by wind goes out and cannot be reckoned as existing, so a sage delivered from name and body disappears, and cannot be reckoned as existing." To this Upas[=i]va replies: "But has he only disappeared, or does he not exist, or is he only free from sickness?" To which Buddha: "For him there is no form, and that by which they say he is exists for him no longer." One would think that this were plain enough.

Yet must one always remember that this is the Arhat's death, the death of him that has perfected himself.[49] Buddha, like the Brahmans, taught hell for the bad, and re-birth for them that were not perfected. So in the Kok[=a]liya-sutta a list of hells is given, and an estimate is made of the duration of the sinner's suffering in them. Here, as if in a Brahman code, is it taught that 'he who lies goes to hell,' etc. Even the names of the Brahmanic hells are taken over into the Buddhist system, and several of those in Manu's list of hells are found here.

On the other hand, Buddha teaches, if one may trust tradition, that a good man may go to heaven. 'On the dissolution of the body after death the well-doer is re-born in some happy state in heaven' (Mah[=a]parinibb[=a]na, i. 24).[50] This, like hell, is a temporary state, of course, before re-birth begins again on earth. In fact, Buddhist and Brahmanic pantheists agree in their attitude toward the respective questions of hell, heaven, and karma. It is only the emancipated Arhat that goes to Nirv[=a]na.[51]

When it is said that Buddha preaches to a new convert 'in due course,' it means always that he gave him first a lecture on morality and religion, and then possibly, but not necessarily, on the 'system.' And Buddha has no narrow-minded aversion to Brahmans; he accepts 'Brahman' as he accepts 'Brahm[=a],' only he wants it to be understood what is a real Brahman: 'A certain Brahman once asked Buddha how one becomes a Brahman,—what are the characteristics that make a man a Brahman. And the Blessed One said: "The Brahman who has removed all sinfulness, who is free from haughtiness, free from impurity, self-restrained, who is an accomplished master of knowledge, who has fulfilled the duties of holiness,—such a Brahman justly calls himself a Brahman."'[52] "The Mah[=a]vagga, from which this is taken, is full of such sentiments. As here, in i. 2, so in i. 7: "The Blessed One preached to Yasa, the noble youth, 'in due course,'" that is to say, "he talked about the merit obtained by alms-giving, the duties of morality, about heaven, about the evils of vanity and sinfulness of desire," and when the Blessed One saw that the mind of Yasa, the noble youth, was prepared, "then he preached the principal doctrine of the Buddhists, namely, suffering, and cause of suffering, the cessation of suffering, the Path;" and "just as a clean cloth takes the dye, thus Yasa, the noble youth, even while sitting there, obtained the knowledge that whatsoever is subject to birth is also subject to death."[53]

The "spirit and not the letter of the law" is expressed in the formula (Mah[=a]vagga, i. 23): "Of all conditions that proceed from a cause, Buddha has explained the cause, and he has explained their cessation." This is the Buddhist's credo.

In several of the sermons the whole gist is comprised in the admonition not to meddle with philosophy, nor to have any 'views,' for "philosophy purifies no one; peace alone purifies."[54]

Buddha does not ignore the fact that fools will not desire salvation as explained by him: "What fools call pleasure the noble say is pain; this is a thing difficult to understand; the cessation of the existing body is regarded as pleasure by the noble, but those wise in this world hold the opposite opinion" (Dvayat[=a]nup. sutta, 38).[55] But to him the truly wise is the truly pure: "Not by birth is one a Brahman, not by birth is one an outcast; by deeds is one a Brahman, by deeds is one an outcast" (Vasala-sutta); and not alone in virtue of karma of old, for: "The man who knows in this world the destruction of pain, who lays aside the burden and is liberated, him I call a Brahman; whosoever in this world has overcome good and evil, both ties, who is free from grief and defilement, and is pure,—him I call a Brahman; the ignorant say that one is a Brahman by birth, but one is a Brahman by penance, by religious life, by self-restraint, and by temperance" (V[=a]settha-sutta).

The penance here alluded to is not the vague penance of austerities, but submission to the discipline of the monastery when exercised for a specific fault.

Later Buddhism made of Buddha a god. Even less exaltation than this is met by Buddha thus: S[=a]riputta says to him, "Such faith have I, Lord, that methinks there never was and never will be either monk or Brahman who is greater and wiser than thou," and Buddha responds: "Grand and bold are the words of thy mouth; behold, thou hast burst forth into ecstatic song. Come, hast thou, then, known all the Buddhas that were?" "No, Lord." "Hast thou known all the Buddhas that will be?" "No, Lord." "But, at least, thou knowest me, my conduct, my mind, my wisdom, my life, my salvation (i.e., thou knowest me as well as I know myself)?" "No, Lord." "Thou seest that thou knowest not the venerable Buddhas of the past and of the future; why, then, are thy words so grand and bold?" (Mah[=a]parinibb[=a]na.)

Metaphysically the human ego to the Buddhist is only a collection of five skandhas (form, sensations, ideas, faculties of mind, and reason) that vanishes when the collection is dispersed, but the factors of the collection re-form again, and the new ego is the result of their re-formation. The Northern Buddhists, who turn Buddha into a god, make of this an immortal soul, but this is Buddhism in one phase, not Buddha's own belief. The strength of Northern Buddhism lies not, as some say, in its greater religious zeal, but in its grosser animism, the delight of the vulgar.

It will not be necessary, interesting as would be the comparison, to study the Buddhism of the North after this review of the older and simpler chronicles. In Hardy's Manual of Buddhism (p. 138 ff.) and Rockhill's Life of Buddha will be found the weird and silly legends of Northern Buddhism, together with a full sketch of Buddhistic ethics and ontology (Hardy, pp. 460, 387). The most famous of the Northern books, the Lotus of the Law and the Lalita Vistara, give a good idea of the extravagance and supernaturalism that already have begun to disfigure the purer faith. According to Kern, who has translated the former work again (after Burnouf), the whole intent of the Lotus is to represent Buddha as the supreme, eternal God. The works, treating of piety, philosophy, and philanthropy, contain ancient elements, but in general are of later form. To this age belongs also the whole collection of J[=a]takas, or 'birth-stories,' of the Buddhas that were before Gautama, some of the tales of which are historically important, as they have given rise to Western fables.[56] These birth-stories represent Buddha (often as Indra) as some god or mortal, and tell what he did in such or such a form. It is in a future form that, like Vishnu, who is to come in the avatar of Kalki, the next Buddha will appear as Maitreya, or the 'Buddha of love.'[57] Some of the stories are very silly; some, again, are beautiful at heart, but ugly in their bizarre appearance. They are all, perhaps, later than our era.[58]

The history of Buddhism after the Master's death has a certain analogy with that of Mohammedanism. That is to say it was largely a political growth. Further than this, of course, the comparison fails. The religion was affected by heretical kings, and by nouveaux riches, for it admitted them all into its community on equal terms—no slight privilege to the haughty nabob or proud king who, if a believer and follower of Brahman orthodoxy, would have been obliged to bend the head, yield the path, and fear the slightest frown of any beggar priest that came in his way.

The M[=a]ruya monarch Açoka adopted Buddhism as a state religion in the third century B.C., and taught it unto all his people, so that, according to his own account, he changed the creed of the country from Brahmanism to Buddhism.[59] He was king over all northern India, from Kabul to the eastern ocean, from the northern limit of Brahmanic civilization to its southern boundary. Buddhist missionaries were now spread over India and beyond it. And here again, even in this later age, one sees how little had the people to do with Buddha's metaphysical system. Like the simple confession 'I take refuge in Buddha, in the doctrine, and in the church' was the only credo demanded, that cited above: "Buddha has explained the cause of whatever conditions proceed from a cause, and he has declared their cessation." In this credo, which is en-graved all over India, everything is left in confidence to Buddha. However he explained the reason, that creed is to be accepted without inquiry. The convert took the patent facts of life, believing that Buddha had explained all, and based his own belief not on understanding but on faith.

With the council of Patna, 242 B.C, begins at thousands of the missionaries the geographical separation of the church, which results in Southern and Northern Buddhism.[60]

It is at this period that the monastic bodies become influential. The original Sangha, congregation, is defined as consisting of three or more brethren. The later monastery is a business corporation as well as a religious body. The great emperors that now ruled India (not the petty clan-kings of the centuries before) were no longer of pure birth, and some heresy was the only religion that would receive them with due honor. They affected Buddhism, endowed the monasteries, in every was enriched the church, built for it great temples, and in turn were upheld by their thankful co-religionists. Among the six[61] rival heresies that of Buddha was predominant, and chiefly because of royal influence. The Buddhist head of the Ceylon church was Açoka's own son. Still more important for Buddhism was its adoption by the migratory Turanians in the centuries following. Tibet and China were opened up to it through the influence of these foreign kings, who at least pretended to adopt the faith of Buddha.[62] But as it was adopted by them, and as it extended beyond the limits of India, just so much weaker it became at home, where its strongest antagonists were the sectarian pantheistic parties not so heterodox as itself.

Buddhism lingered in India till the twelfth or thirteenth century, although in the seventh it was already decadent, as appears from the account of Hiouen-Thsang, the Chinese pilgrim. It is found to-day in Tibet, Ceylon, China, Japan, and other outlying regions, but it is quite vanished from its old home. The cause of its extinction is obvious. The Buddhist victorious was not the modest and devout mendicant of the early church. The fire of hate, lighted if at all by Buddhism,[63] smouldered till Brahmanism, in the form of Hinduism, had begotten a religion as popular as Buddhism, or rather far more popular, and for two reasons. Buddhism had no such picturesque tales as those that enveloped with poetry the history of the man-god Krishna, Again, Buddhism in its monastic development had separated itself more and more from the people. Not mendicant monks, urging to a pure life, but opulent churches with fat priests; not simple discourses calculated to awaken the moral and religious consciousness, but subtle arguments on discipline and metaphysics were now what Buddhism represented. This religion was become, indeed, as much a skeleton as was the Brahmanism of the sixth century. As the Brahmanic belief had decomposed into spiritless rites, so Buddhism, changed into dialectic and idolatry (for in lieu of a god the later church worshipped Buddha), had lost now all hold upon the people. The love of man, the spirit of Buddhism, was dead, and Buddhism crumbled into the dust. Vital and energetic was the sectarian 'love of God' alone (Hinduism), and this now became triumphant. Where Buddhism has succeeded is not where the man-gods, objects of love and fear, have entered; but where, without rivalry from more sympathetic beliefs, it has itself evolved a system of idolatry and superstition; where all that was scorned by the Master is regarded as holiest, and all that he insisted upon as vital is disregarded.[64] One speaks of the millions of Buddhists in the world as one speaks of the millions of Christians; but while there are some Christians that have renounced the bigotry and idolatry of the church, and hold to the truth as it is in the words of Christ, there are still fewer Buddhists who know that their Buddhism would have been rebuked scornfully by its founder.

The geographical growth of formal Buddhism is easily sketched. After the first entrance into Kashmeer and Ceylon, in the third century B.C., the progress of the cult, as it now may be called, was steadily away from India proper. In the fifth century A.D., it was adopted in Burmah,[65] and in the seventh in Siam. The Northern school kept in general to the 'void' doctrine of N[=a]g[=a]rjuna, whose chief texts are the Lotus and the Lalita Vistara, standard works of the Great Vehicle.[66] In Tibet Lamaism is the last result of this hierarchical state-church.[67] We have thought it much more important to give a fuller account of early Buddhism, that of Buddha, than a full account of a later growth in regions that, for the most part, are not Indic, in the belief that the P[=a]li books of Ceylon give a truer picture of the early church than do those of Kashmeer and Nep[=a]l, with their Çivaite and Brahmanic admixture. For in truth the Buddhism of China and Tibet has no place in the history of Indic religions. It may have been introduced by Hindu missionaries, but it has been re-made to suit a foreign people. This does not apply, of course, to the canonical books, the Great Vehicle, of the North, which is essentially native, if not Buddhistic. Yet of the simple narrative and the adulterated mystery-play, if one has to choose, the former must take precedence. From the point of view of history, Northern Buddhism, however old its elements, can be regarded only as an admixture of Buddhistic and Brahmanic ideas. For this reason we take a little more space, not to cite from the Lotus or the grotesque Lalita Vistara,[68] but to illustrate Buddhism at its best. Fausböll, who has translated the dialogue that follows, thinks that in the Suttas of the Sutta-nip[=a]ta there is a reminiscence of a stage of Buddhism before the institution of monasteries, while as yet the disciples lived as hermits. The collection is at least very primitive, although we doubt whether the Buddhist disciples ever lived formally as individual hermits. All the Samanas are in groups, little 'congregations,' which afterwards grew into monasteries.

This is a poetical (amoebic) contest between the herdsman Dhaniya and Buddha, with which Fausböll[69] compares St. Luke, xii. 16, but which, on the other hand reminds one of a spiritualized Theocritus, with whom its author was, perhaps, contemporary.

I have boiled the rice, I have milked the kine—so said the
herdsman Dhaniya—I am living with my comrades near the
banks of the (great) Mah[=i] river; the house is roofed, the
fire is lit—then rain if thou wilt, O sky!

I am free from anger, free from stubbornness—so said the Blessed One—I am abiding for one night near the banks of the (great) Mah[=i] river; my house has no cover, the fire (of passion) is extinguished—then rain if thou wilt, O sky!

Here are no gad-files—so said the herdsman Dhaniya—The cows are roaming in meadows full of grass, and they can endure the rain—then rain if thou wilt, O sky!

1 have made a well-built raft—so said the Blessed One—I have crossed over, I have reached the further bank, I have overcome the torrent (of passions); I need the raft no more—then rain if thou wilt, O sky!

My wife is obedient, she is not wanton—so said the herdsman
Dhaniya—she has lived with me long and is winning; no
wickedless have I heard of her—then rain if thou wilt, O
sky!

My mind is obedient, delivered (from evil)—so said the Blessed One—it has been cultivated long and is well-subdued; there is no longer anything wicked in me—then rain if thou wilt, O sky!

I support myself by my own earnings—so said the herdsman
Dhaniya—and my children are around me and healthy; I hear
no wickedness of them—then rain if thou wilt, O sky!

I am the servant of none—so said the Blessed One—with what
I have gained I wander about in all the world; I have no
need to serve—then rain if thou wilt, O sky!

I have cows, I have calves—so said the herdsman
Dhaniya—cows in calf and heifers also; and I have a bull as
lord over the cows—then rain if thou wilt, O sky!

I have no cows, I have no calves—so said the Blessed
One—no cows in calf, and no heifers; and I have no bull as
a lord over the cows—then rain if thou wilt, O sky!

The stakes are driven in and cannot be shaken—so said the herdsman Dhaniya—the ropes are made of holy-grass, new and well-made; the cows will not be able to break them—then rain if thou wilt, O sky!

Like a bull I have rent the bonds—so said the Blessed One—like an elephant I have broken through the ropes, I shall not be born again—then rain if thou wilt, O sky!

Then the rain poured down and filled both sea and land. And hearing the sky raining, Dhaniya said: Not small to us the gain in that we have seen the Blessed Lord; in thee we take refuge, thou endowed with (wisdom's) eye; be thou our master, O great sage! My wife and myself are obedient to thee. If we lead a pure life we shall overcome birth and death, and put an end to pain.

He that has sons has delight in sons—so said the Evil One—he that has cows has delight in cows, for substance is the delight of man, but he that has no substance has no delight.

He that has sons has care with his sons—so said the Blessed One—he that has cows has likewise care with his cows, for substance is (the cause of) care, but he that has no substance has no care.

From Buddha's sermons choice extracts were gathered at an early date, which, as well as the few longer discourses, that have been preserved in their entirety, do more to tell us what was the original Buddha, before he was enwrapped in the scholastic mysticism of a later age, than pages of general critique.

Thus in the Mah[=a]parinibb[=a]na casual allusion is made to assemblies of men and of angels (divine beings), of the great thirty-three gods, Death the Evil One and Brahm[=a] (iii. 21). Buddha, as we have said, does not deny the existence of spiritual beings; he denies only their power to affect the perfect man and their controlling part in the universe. In the same sermon the refuge of the disciple is declared to be truth and himself (ii. 33): "Be ye lamps unto yourselves. Betake yourselves to no external refuge. Hold fast to the truth as to a lamp."

And from the famous 'Path of Duty' or 'Collection of truths':[70]

All that we are is the result of what we have thought: it is founded on our thoughts; it is made up of our thoughts. If a man speaks or acts with an evil thought pain follows him as the wheel follows the foot of the ox that draws the carriage, (but) if a man speaks or acts with a pure thought happiness follows him like a shadow that never leaves him.

Earnestness is the path that leads to escape from death, thoughtlessness is the path that leads to death. Those who are in earnest do not die;[71]

those who are thoughtless are as if dead already. Long is
the night to him who is awake; long is a mile to him who is
tired; long is life to the foolish.

There is no suffering for him who has finished his journey
and abandoned grief, who has freed himself on all sides and
thrown off the fetters.

Some people are born again; evil-doers go to hell; righteous
people go to heaven; those who are free from all worldly
desires attain Nirv[=a]na.

He who, seeking his own happiness, punishes or kills beings that also long for happiness, will not find happiness after death.

Looking for the maker of this tabernacle I shall have to run through a course of many births, so long as I do not find; and painful is birth again and again. But now, maker of the tabernacle, thou hast been seen; thou shalt not make up this tabernacle again. All thy rafters are broken, thy ridge-pole is sundered; thy mind, approaching Nirv[=a]na, has attained to extinction of all desires.[72]

Better than going to heaven, better than lordship over all
worlds, is the reward of entering the stream of holiness.

Not to commit any sin, to do good, and to purify one's mind,
that is the teaching of the Buddhas.

Let us live happily, not hating them that hate us. Let us live happily, though we call nothing our own. We shall be like bright gods, feeding on happiness.

From lust comes grief, from lust comes fear; he that is free from lust knows neither grief nor fear.

The best of ways is the eightfold (path); this is the way, there is no other that leads to the purifying of intelligence. Go on this way! Everything else is the deceit of Death. You yourself must make the effort. Buddhas are only preachers. The thoughtful who enter the way are freed from the bondage of Death.[73]

* * * * *