Such gods existed in subtle corporeal forms, and, though not omnipotent, were capable of working benefit or harm. They were subject to the universal law of dissolution, and after death were succeeded by others, so that there was not one Brahmā or one Ṡakra, but many successive deities so named, and many classes of deities under them. They had no power of effecting any person’s salvation. On the contrary, they had to see to their own, and were inferior to the perfected man.
Moreover, to be born in the world of the gods seems not to have implied any vast accumulation of merit, for we read of a certain frog that from simply listening to the Buddha’s voice, while reciting the Law, was born as a god in the Trayastriṉṡa heaven (Hardy, [p. 392]).
In short, the constant revolving of the wheel of life in one eternal circle, according to fixed and immutable laws, is perhaps after all the sum and substance of the philosophy of Buddhism. And this eternal wheel or circle has, so to speak, six spokes representing six forms of existence.
When any one of the six classes of beings dies, he must be born again in some one of these same six classes, for there are no other possible ways (gati) of life, and he cannot pass into plants, stones, and inorganic matter, as in the Brāhmanical system (see [p. 108]). If he be born again in one of the hells he is not thereby debarred from seeking salvation, and even if he be born in heaven as a god, he must at some time or other leave it and seek after a higher state still—that of the perfect man who has gained Nirvāṇa and is soon to achieve the one consummation worth living for, the one crown worth striving for—extinction of personal existence in Pari-nirvāṇa (see pp. [138]-142).
LECTURE VI.
The Morality of Buddhism and its chief aim—Arhatship or Nirvāṇa.
The first questions suggested by the subject of this lecture will probably be:—
How could a life of morality be inculcated by one who made all life proceed from ignorance, and even virtuous conduct in one sense a mistake, as leading to continuity of life, and therefore of suffering? How could the Buddha’s first commandment be, ‘Destroy not,’ when his ideal of perfection was destruction? How could he say, ‘be active,’ when his theory of Karma (pp. [110], [114]) made action conduce to misery?
The inconsistency is evident, but it is no less true that, notwithstanding the doctrine that all existence entails misery, and that all action, good or bad, leads to future births, Gautama taught that the life of a man in higher bodily forms, or in one of the heavens, was better than a life in lower forms, or in one of the hells, and that neither a higher form of life nor the great aim of Nirvāṇa could be attained without righteous action, meditation, and true knowledge.
Buddhism, indeed, as we have seen, could not hold forth as an incentive to good behaviour any belief in a Creator rewarding and punishing his creatures according to their works, or pardoning their sins. It could not inculcate piety; for in true Buddhism piety was impossible; yet like Manu (II. 6) it made morality (ṡīla) the basis of Law (Dharma); it stimulated good conduct by its doctrine of repeated births, and by pictures of its numerous heavens, and it deterred men from unrighteous acts by its terrible places of torment.
Let it then be made clear from the first that Buddhism, in inculcating morality, used no word expressive of morality, as founded on the love and fear of God, or of sin as an offence against God.