The natural answer to this query when it is addressed to a bibliolater is that the Egyptians were taught by God to punish murder with death through the intervention of their forefather, Ham, who heard the command given by God to Noah, "Whoso sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed," Gen. ix. 6. But if the Egyptians thus knew the law, so the descendants of Shem must have learned it also; and if so, what need was there to repeat it amongst the thunders of Sinai. It is plain from the romantic legend of Joseph and Potiphar's wife: first, that the Hebrew slave feared to commit adultery, as it was a great wickedness and a sin against God, Gen. xxxix. 9; and, secondly, that the Egyptian considered it a crime in anyone to violate the wife of another. But neither Joseph nor Potiphar could by any possibility have heard of the laws enunciated on Sinai. So, if we could inquire farther, we should most assuredly learn that the Mizraim venerated their parents, punished theft, and took means to prevent and to punish perjury. If, then, the Egyptians had, long before they ever heard of a Jew, the same commandments amongst them which were subsequently enunciated in the wilderness, we can only come to the conclusion that the Hebrew writer who told the story of Sinai, gave the god whom he described, a great deal of unnecessary work. Can we for a moment suppose that the Jews when in Egypt had their wives in common?—and if each man had his mate, and each woman her husband, it is almost self-evident that adultery would not be tolerated amongst them. As there were therefore distinct moral laws long before the Exodus, the decalogue was entirely superfluous.
The morality inculcated by teachers is nothing more than instructions for mankind how to attain the greatest harmony amongst their fellows. It is very natural for a thoughtless man to assert that one who wilfully disturbs the general comfort of the human family during his life-time, shall be tormented eternally after his death; and, on the other hand, to proclaim that he who does everything in his power to increase the happiness of his fellow-men shall be rewarded in a heaven above, with everlasting music, or other delights; yet we may fairly doubt the averments, for both are founded entirely upon human ideas of right and wrong, justice and injustice. The prevalent idea is, that everything which to some man seems to be wrong on earth, will be righted in another sphere—Even Jesus appears to have adopted this view, for he talks (Luke xvi) of a Dives and Lazarus—the one, a rich man who fared sumptuously every day, and the other a beggar, full of sores, who longed for the crumbs from wealth's table. After the deaths of these two people, we are told that the rich man went to Hell, and the poor one to Heaven, not—apparently—because one was bad and the other good; but simply because misery in the present is sure to be changed into luxury for the future, and vice versa. We see this doctrine distinctly enunciated by the imaginary Abraham, in whose bosom Lazarus lay, for he remarks (Luke xvi. 25), "Son, remember that thou in thy lifetime receivedst thy good things, and likewise Lazarus evil things; but now he is comforted and thou art tormented." We nowhere find that his position was a reward to the beggar for virtue or morality. There is also a current doctrine that he whom we call a vile man—one who indulges his brutal desires, shall in another world become more brutalized—meeting with, and being beaten by, powers whose mischievous propensities are superior to his own; whilst, on the other hand, he whom we call a saint, one who endeavours to subdue the affections of the flesh in this world, shall be able to indulge in any desire that he may have, in the next, unlimitedly. In short, each individual makes a Heaven for himself, and a Hell for his neighbours. I have heard, in days gone by, a Southern States lady say she would not go to heaven, willingly, if she knew that she should meet negroes there on terms of equality.
In rejoinder to these considerations, the question is put, "Could the world be habitable by men, without the existence amongst them of a belief in a future state, in which rewards and punishments shall be meted out for supposed misdeeds committed in the present?" It is well for us to look the matter in the face boldly, and ask ourselves whether fierce tigers, angry bulls, combative stags, kindred devouring rats, offspring eating alligators, infanticidal birds and pigs have succeeded in extirpating their race? There are herds, without number, of graminivorous animals in Africa, and thousands of carnivorous creatures who could not exist without murdering some of the former; yet the slaughter committed by scores of lions does not annihilate antelopes. In like manner there are many folks who have lived in sundry islands of the Pacific without an idea, so far as we can learn, of an eternity, who sometimes spend their leisure time in fighting with and eating each other, and occasionally unite to kill a shark: each individual lives and dies like any other animal, but the race remains. Even the systematic "hellishness" of persecution indulged in by the followers of Jesus in the middle ages did not extirpate the Jews; and if organized murders, such as were, in days gone by, sanctioned by individuals wielding the sceptre of powerful governments, could not cut off from existence a comparatively feeble race, surely we may conclude that a nation can continue populous even if any individual, in a fit of passion, should rise against his fellow and smite him to the dust. But we need not go to New Zealand, China, and Japan to prove that men can live in a community without an idea of eternity, for we have only to refer to the Jews, the so-called people of God. To them no knowledge of eternal life was given, consequently we infer that Jehovah knew that they would get along in the world very well without it. What Elohim thought was unnecessary, it is not for man to propound as important.
When the modern Christian philosopher—and there really are a few who deserve the term—finds that the morality of Jesus did not materially differ from that of Sakya Muni, he endeavours to show that the doctrine of "faith in the son of God" is of more value than simple propriety, and that even the most virtuous life will not enable a man to attain to paradise unless he holds the Catholic faith. When the "Catholic faith," as it is termed, is placed in such a position, we are bound to examine its pretensions, and inquire in what way doctrines or dogmas are better than morality, and whether they are in any way superior to what the orthodox call "irreligion." To my mind the best method of solving the question is an appeal to history. If, as it is contended by the orthodox, the teaching of Christianity is far above that of any other religion, then it must follow that all those who believe in it, or even profess it, must be paragons amongst men as citizens and rulers. To what extent many theologians believe in this axiom may be judged by the frequency with which we hear, from the pulpit, an old anecdote to the effect, that the expression, "see how these Christians love one another," was, in olden time, nearly equal to the most powerful sermon in favour of the religion of Jesus. Without pointing a sneer, by requesting my readers to substitute the word Buddhists for Christians, let me lay the very heavy charge against the leaders of the faith, that the words in question are the heaviest condemnation possible against the supposed value of the doctrines of the son of Mary, as formerly and at present expounded. "See how these Christians love!" Aye, see how they love—read their own histories of the past, and their newspapers in the present; attend their meetings; listen to their speeches; and even follow them into private life. In every position "see how these Christians love one another" is the damning sentence which tells of the real value of the doctrine attributed to the son of Mary. Whilst I write (Jan. 7, 1870), a council, called OEcumenical, consisting of Roman Catholic Christian bishops, summoned to the capital of ancient Italy from all parts of the world, is sitting, and one of the subjects of its deliberation is, whether a certain individual, elected by men to assume the direction of a community of men holding a particular faith in common, shall be regarded, by those who join such branch of the church, as absolutely infallible in every statement of opinion which he makes as a high priest. Men positively have met to clothe, and now have invested, a man with an attribute of God, and millions of Christians will, by those men, be compelled to consider themselves bound by the decision! "See how these Christians love!" they are persecuted by the world at first, then they persecute their oppressors, and massacre each other; educated by Jesus, they gradually encourage ignorance until they reach a superstition as crass as the darkness of a dense fog in a moonless night. They oppose the advancement of knowledge and science, then, by degrees, endeavour to exalt each other, until, by common consent, they deify the chieftain of the order. There is not a known crime of which the leaders of the Christian church, as it is called, have not been guilty, both as men and ecclesiastical rulers. "See how these Christians love!" Yet these very men endeavour to deride, and affect to despise, those whom they call the godless. The latter, taking their stand upon morality and common sense, aver that all affairs between man and his maker ought to be referred to the arbitrement of Heaven. The Christian hierarchs, on the contrary, declare that they are the earthly agents of heaven, and that they, and the secular arm—a very mundane court—can act just as well, perhaps better, than the Supreme Judge. We will not say whether it was a pleasant pastime for the Spanish, and other Inquisitors, to torture individuals who were thought to be inimical to the true faith, inasmuch as we do not know their inmost mind; but we asseverate that all Europe, except those who had the power of persecution, and used it, rejoiced greatly when the enthusiastic armies, of what was designated atheistic France, annihilated the so-called Holy Inquisition.
I speak with sober earnestness when I say, that after forty years' experience amongst those who profess Christianity, and those who proclaim, more or less quietly, their disagreement with it, I have noticed more sterling virtue and morality amongst the last than the first. Though I thus express myself, I must also acknowledge my belief in the dictum, "that many men are better than their creeds would make them," and, consequently, that all men are not to be taken as characteristic of their system of belief. I know, personally, many pious, sterling, good Christian people, whom I honour, admire, and, perhaps, would be glad to emulate or to equal; but they deserve the eulogy thus passed on them in consequence of their good sense having ignored the doctrine of faith to a great degree, and having cultivated the practice of good works. They have picked out the best bits of the Bible, and rejected the worst. In my judgment the most praiseworthy Christians whom I know are modified Buddhists, though, probably, not one of them ever heard of Siddartha. I would gladly trace their character, but I forbear, as I think they would be horrified at the thought of my comparing them with those whom they have been taught to regard as followers of a false prophet, or something worse. Let it suffice to say that I honour consistent reasonable Christians everywhere, and that whatever remarks I make which seem to be opposed to this, are directed against those whose doctrines, morality, and conduct, ostensibly built upon the Bible, are irrational and bad.
Since the preceding remarks were written, there have appeared three very remarkable works upon Buddhism in addition to those which I have already noticed—and they have the advantage for general readers, of being clothed in an English dress. The first which I will notice, is Travels of Fah-Hian and Sung-Yun: Buddhist Pilgrims from China to India (408 A.D., and 518 a.d.; London, Trübner, 1869, small 8vo. pp. 208.) This work is remarkable as illustrating the fact, that there has been the idea, even in China, of sending men, or of devout persons spontaneously going, to distant places, to endeavour to seek for more perfect religious knowledge, than they believe themselves and their teachers to possess where they are. With such an example before us, we can give more easy credence to the stories told of Pythagoras, of Solon, and Herodotus; how they visited distant countries to learn the way of God and man more perfectly. Nor must we pass by the proof, which the journey of the Chinese travellers affords, that, what may be called missionary zeal is not an apanage of Christianity alone. An account of their travels will be found in the next chapter. The second publication to which we refer, is Buddhaghosa's Parables, translated from the Burmese, by Capt. T. Rogers; with an introduction containing Buddha's Dhammapada, or Path of Virtue, translated from the Pâli, by Max Müller; London, Trubner & Co., 1870, 8vo. pp. 374. This work is of such importance to all students of the Science of Religion, that we shall notice it in a separate essay. The third contribution, is The Modern Buddhist, being the views of a Siamese Minister of State, on his own and other religions, translated, with remarks, by Henry Alabaster, interpreter of H. B. M., consulate-general in Siam; London, Triibner & Co., 1870, small 8vo. pp. 91. This has now arrived at a second edition, and is called The Wheel of the Law.
This last book is, perhaps, the most interesting of the three, inasmuch as it enables us to compare the modern development of the religion of Buddha, and that of Christ. It enables us, moreover, to see ourselves and modern Christian doctrines as others see them, and to discover the essential points at issue, between the followers of the son of Maya Devi, and of Mary.
The first point to which we would call attention, is the statement that the Siamese are nowhere excelled in the sincerity of their belief, and the liberality with which they support their religion. "In Bangkok alone, there are more than a hundred monasteries, and ten thousand monks and novices. More than this, every male Siamese, sometime during his life, and generally in the prime of it, takes orders as a monk, and retires for some months or years, to practise abstinence and meditation in a monastery." Against this, or side by side with it, what can Great Britain, or any other Christian country show? We have, it is true, plenty of monasteries in Christendom, and in the majority of western kingdoms, there are colleges and universities for the education of youth, and there is, in some such institutions, a pretence of meditation and of abstinence. Yet the finger of scandal points, and has pointed, for many hundred years, to the disreputable conduct pursued in almost the whole of such Christian institutions; whereas, not even its enemies can find evidence to convict Buddhist ascetics of indulging in sensual gratifications of any kind whatever.
We learn, from Mr Alabaster's preface, that the late king of Siam, though "eminent amongst monks for his knowledge of the Buddhist scriptures, boldly preached against the canonicity of those of them, whose relations were opposed to his reason, and his knowledge of modern science." "His powers as a linguist were considerable, and enabled him to use an English library with facility." They are his views—which royal etiquette prevented him from writing, that inspired his prime minister. What have we here? Surely it is an example that British rulers, and especially divines, should follow. Yet with all our boasted skill, science, and powers of thought, our theologians prefer to preach, and to uphold, doctrines which they know to be repugnant, both to reason and to science, rather than abandon that which was propounded when reason and knowledge were almost in their infancy. Certainly, in this respect, the believers in Sakya Muni show themselves more sensible than those in Jesus.
Again, let us quote the following paragraph—pointing out the analogy we wish to draw, by using a literary contrivance—and calling attention to the fact, that no Roman Catholic authority in Christian Europe, has yet dared to say, what a Buddhist ruler does.