The same may be said of the interaction which took place between Buddhism and Ṡaivism; for Ṡaivism, of course, was quite as bent on the propagation of its own creed as other systems were. It vied with Buddhism in encouraging abstract meditation, and although it had less sympathy than Vaishṇavism had with that system, it approached in some respects so closely to its rival, that when Buddhism disappeared from India, images of Gautama were converted into representations of Ṡiva seated in profound contemplation.
Ultimately, the interaction between the three systems proceeded to such a point that each was influenced and modified by the other; each learnt something, or adopted some practice from the other.
It was thus, too, that Ṡāktism, i. e. the worship of energy or force (Ṡakti), identified with Ṡiva’s consort, was imported into Buddhism; its doctrine of the self-evolution of all things from Prakṛiti having much that harmonized with the Buddhist theory of the origin of the Universe. Thus, too, even Tāntrism in its worst forms became intermixed with Buddhistic practice.
Enough, then, has been said to justify the assertion that Buddhism was not forcibly expelled from India by the Brāhmans. It simply in the end—possibly as late as the thirteenth century of our era—became blended with the systems which surrounded it, though the process of blending was gradual.
It would certainly be easy to prove from the records of the three Chinese travellers, that Buddhism and Brāhmanism existed together in Northern and Central India as quite distinct systems till at least the seventh century of our era, if not always quite amicably, yet without any violent internecine conflict. Bitter controversies between the two rival creeds are without doubt clearly alluded to, and Fā-hien in one passage states that ‘the Brāhmans with their contrary doctrine became full of hatred and envy in their hearts[72].’ Yet, on the other hand, we find that at a Council held by the great Buddhist king Ṡilāditya (Harsha-vardhana), whose meritorious acts are fully described by Hiouen Thsang (ch. v), and who had his capital at Kanouj, in the year 634 of our era[73], controversial points relating to both Buddhism and Brāhmanism were discussed in a tolerant spirit, though it is said that in discussing questions between the Northern and Southern Buddhists, the ‘Little Vehicle’ was condemned.
Again, the Buddhist drama called Nāgānanda, ‘joy of the snake world[74],’ throws great light on the amicable relations existing between the various sectarians and religionists in the days of king Ṡilāditya. It is the only Sanskṛit play in which the Nāndī or opening prayer invokes the power of Buddha, thus:—
‘“On whom dost thou meditate, putting on a pretence of religious abstraction, yet opening thine eyes? See, saviour that thou art, thou dost not pity us sick with the shafts of Love. Falsely art thou compassionate. Who is more cruel than thou?” May Buddha, the conqueror, who was thus jealously addressed by the Apsarasas (daughters) of Māra ([p. 34]), protect you!’
Professor E. B. Cowell has shown in his valuable Preface that both this play and the sister Hindū play called Ratnāvali were probably put forth or at least patronised by Harsha-vardhana (Ṡilāditya), and that both were probably acted at the same period, the king being as much a Hindū as a Buddhist. Hiouen Thsang praises Harsha-vardhana for his support of Buddhism, but in his description of the two Convocations held by that king, states that both Buddhists and Brāhmans were equally honoured by him, and intimates that half his subjects held one doctrine and half the other. In the second Convocation which took place at Prayāga (now Allahābād) eighteen kings were present and 500,000 monks and laymen. On the first day the statue of Buddha was installed; on the second day that of the Sun, and on the third that of Ṡiva. Alms were distributed to Brāhmans and Buddhists alike, and even to the Nirgranthas or Jaina naked heretics.
Again the well-known play called Mālatī-Mādhava (by Bhava-bhūti, who lived at Kanauj in the beginning of the eighth century) has an opening prayer addressed to Ṡiva, and yet a female Buddhist ascetic and her attendant constitute two of the principal dramatis personæ, proving that an intermixture of the two creeds prevailed everywhere.
It was also during the reign of Ṡilāditya that the immense monastery at Nālanda near Rāja-gṛiha formed a seat of learning, which might suggest a comparison with the learned monkish communities and even with the universities of mediæval Europe[75]. In that monastery might be seen several thousand novices and monks of the eighteen Buddhist schools—all of them supported by royal grants, and thus enabled both to perform their religious duties, and to prosecute the study of philosophy, law, and science in literary ease. It is probable that if disputes and disagreements upon burning questions occurred, they rarely led to serious conflicts, and were not general throughout India, but confined to particular localities; and I think it may be safely affirmed that if Buddhism was ever anywhere persecuted, it never anywhere persecuted in return.