The Four Presaging Tokens.

Soothsayers were consulted by King Suddhodana. They pronounced the following:—

"The young boy will, without doubt, be either a king of kings, or a great Buddha. If he is destined to be a great Buddha, four presaging tokens will make his mission plain. He will see—

"1. An old man.

"2. A sick man.

"3. A corpse.

"4. A holy recluse.

"If he fails to see these four presaging tokens of an avatÂra, he will be simply a Chakravartin" (king of earthly kings).

King Suddhodana, who was a trifle worldly, was very much comforted by the last prediction of the soothsayers. He thought in his heart, It will be an easy thing to keep these four presaging tokens from the young prince. So he gave orders that three magnificent palaces should at once be built—the Palace of Spring, the Palace of Summer, the Palace of Winter. These palaces, as we learn from the "Lalita Vistara," were the most beautiful palaces ever conceived on earth. Indeed, they were quite able to cope in splendour with Vaijayanta, the immortal palace of Indra himself. Costly pavilions were built out in all directions, with ornamented porticoes and burnished doors. Turrets and pinnacles soared into the sky. Dainty little windows gave light to the rich apartments. Galleries, balustrades, and delicate trellis-work were abundant everywhere. A thousand bells tinkled on each roof. We seem to have the lacquered Chinese edifices of the pattern which architects believe to have flourished in early India. The gardens of these fine palaces rivalled the chess-board in the rectangular exactitude of their parterres and trellis-work bowers. Cool lakes nursed on their calm bosoms storks and cranes, wild geese and tame swans; ducks, also, as parti-coloured as the white, red, and blue lotuses amongst which they swam. Bending to these lakes were bowery trees—the champak, the acacia serisha, and the beautiful asoka tree with its orange-scarlet flowers. Above rustled the mimosa, the fan-palm, and the feathery pippala, Buddha's tree. The air was heavy with the strong scent of the tuberose and the Arabian jasmine.

It must be mentioned that strong ramparts were prepared round the palaces of Kapilavastu, to keep out all old men, sick men, and recluses, and, I must add, to keep in the prince.

And a more potent safeguard still was designed. When the prince was old enough to marry, his palace was deluged with beautiful women. He revelled in the "five dusts," as the Chinese version puts it. But a shock was preparing for King Suddhodana.

This is how the matter came about. The king had prepared a garden even more beautiful than the garden of the Palace of Summer. A soothsayer had told him that if he could succeed in showing the prince this garden, the prince would be content to remain in it with his wives for ever. No task seemed easier than this, so it was arranged that on a certain day the prince should be driven thither in his chariot. But, of course, immense precautions had to be taken to keep all old men and sick men and corpses from his sight. Quite an army of soldiers were told off for this duty, and the city was decked with flags. The path of the prince was strewn with flowers and scents, and adorned with vases of the rich kadali plant. Above were costly hangings and garlands, and pagodas of bells.

But, lo and behold! as the prince was driving along, plump under the wheels of his chariot, and before the very noses of the silken nobles and the warriors with javelins and shields, he saw an unusual sight. This was an old man, very decrepit and very broken. The veins and nerves of his body were swollen and prominent; his teeth chattered; he was wrinkled, bald, and his few remaining hairs were of dazzling whiteness; he was bent very nearly double, and tottered feebly along, supported by a stick.

"What is this, O coachman?" said the prince. "A man with his blood all dried up, and his muscles glued to his body! His head is white; his teeth knock together; he is scarcely able to move along, even with the aid of that stick!"

"Prince," said the coachman, "this is Old Age. This man's senses are dulled; suffering has destroyed his spirit; he is contemned by his neighbours. Unable to help himself, he has been abandoned in this forest."

"Is this a peculiarity of his family?" demanded the prince, "or is it the law of the world? Tell me quickly."

"Prince," said the coachman, "it is neither a law of his family, nor a law of the kingdom. In every being youth is conquered by age. Your own father and mother and all your relations will end in old age. There is no other issue to humanity."

"Then youth is blind and ignorant," said the prince, "and sees not the future. If this body is to be the abode of old age, what have I to do with pleasure and its intoxications? Turn round the chariot, and drive me back to the palace!"

Consternation was in the minds of all the courtiers at this untoward occurrence; but the odd circumstance of all was that no one was ever able to bring to condign punishment the miserable author of the mischief. The old man could never be found.

King Suddhodana was at first quite beside himself with tribulation. Soldiers were summoned from the distant provinces, and a cordon of detachments thrown out to a distance of four miles in each direction, to keep the other presaging tokens from the prince. By and by the king became a little more quieted. A ridiculous accident had interfered with his plans: "If my son could see the Garden of Happiness he never would become a hermit." The king determined that another attempt should be made. But this time the precautions were doubled.

On the first occasion the prince left the Palace of Summer by the eastern gate. The second expedition was through the southern gate.

But another untoward event occurred. As the prince was driving along in his chariot, suddenly he saw close to him a man emaciated, ill, loathsome, burning with fever. Companionless, uncared for, he tottered along, breathing with extreme difficulty.

"Coachman," said the prince, "what is this man, livid and loathsome in body, whose senses are dulled, and whose limbs are withered? His stomach is oppressing him; he is covered with filth. Scarcely can he draw the breath of life!"

"Prince," said the coachman, "this is Sickness. This poor man is attacked with a grievous malady. Strength and comfort have shunned him. He is friendless, hopeless, without a country, without an asylum. The fear of death is before his eyes."

"If the health of man," said Buddha, "is but the sport of a dream, and the fear of coming evils can put on so loathsome a shape, how can the wise man, who has seen what life really means, indulge in its vain delights? Turn back, coachman, and drive me to the palace!"

The angry king, when he heard what had occurred, gave orders that the sick man should be seized and punished, but although a price was placed on his head, and he was searched for far and wide, he could never be caught. A clue to this is furnished by a passage in the "Lalita Vistara." The sick man was in reality one of the Spirits of the Pure Abode, masquerading in sores and spasms. These Spirits of the Pure Abode are also called the Buddhas of the Past, in many passages. The answers of the coachman were due to their inspiration.

It would almost seem as if some influence, malefic or otherwise, was stirring the good King Suddhodana. Unmoved by failure, he urged the prince to a third effort. The chariot this time was to set out by the western gate. Greater precautions than ever were adopted. The chain of guards was posted at least twelve miles off from the Palace of Summer. But the Buddhas of the Past again arrested the prince. His chariot was suddenly crossed by a phantom funeral procession. A phantom corpse, smeared with the orthodox mud, and spread with a sheet, was carried on a bier. Phantom women wailed, and phantom musicians played on the drum and the Indian flute. No doubt also, phantom Brahmins chanted hymns to Jatavedas, to bear away the immortal part of the dead man to the home of the Pitris.

"What is this?" said the prince. "Why do these women beat their breast and tear their hair? Why do these good folks cover their heads with the dust of the ground? And that strange form upon its litter, wherefore is it so rigid?"

"Prince," said the charioteer, "this is Death! Yon form, pale and stiffened, can never again walk and move. Its owner has gone to the unknown caverns of Yama. His father, his mother, his child, his wife cry out to him, but he cannot hear."

Buddha was sad.

"Woe be to youth, which is the sport of age! Woe be to health, which is the sport of many maladies! Woe be to life, which is as a breath! Woe be to the idle pleasures which debauch humanity! But for the 'five aggregations' there would be no age, sickness, nor death. Go back to the city. I must compass the deliverance."

A fourth time the prince was urged by his father to visit the Garden of Happiness. The chain of guards this time was sixteen miles away. The exit was by the northern gate. But suddenly a calm man of gentle mien, wearing an ochre-red cowl, was seen in the roadway.

"Who is this," said the prince, "rapt, gentle, peaceful in mien? He looks as if his mind were far away elsewhere. He carries a bowl in his hand."

"Prince, this is the New Life," said the charioteer. "That man is of those whose thoughts are fixed on the eternal Brahma [Brahmacharin]. He seeks the divine voice. He seeks the divine vision. He carries the alms-bowl of the holy beggar [bhikshu]. His mind is calm, because the gross lures of the lower life can vex it no more."

"Such a life I covet," said the prince. "The lusts of man are like the sea-water—they mock man's thirst instead of quenching it. I will seek the divine vision, and give immortality to man!"

King Suddhodana was beside himself. He placed five hundred corseleted Sakyas at every gate of the Palace of Summer. Chains of sentries were round the walls, which were raised and strengthened. A phalanx of loving wives, armed with javelins, was posted round the prince's bed to "narrowly watch" him. The king ordered also all the allurements of sense to be constantly presented to the prince.

"Let the women of the zenana cease not for an instant their concerts and mirth and sports. Let them shine in silks and sparkle in diamonds and emeralds."

The allegory is in reality a great battle between two camps—the denizens of the KÂmaloca, or the Domains of Appetite, and the denizens of the Brahmaloca, the Domains of Pure Spirit. The latter are unseen, but not unfelt.

For one day, when the prince reclined on a silken couch listening to the sweet crooning of four or five brown-skinned, large-eyed Indian girls, his eyes suddenly assumed a dazed and absorbed look, and the rich hangings and garlands and intricate trellis-work of the golden apartment were still present, but dim to his mind. And music and voices, more sweet than he had ever listened to, seemed faintly to reach him. I will write down some of the verses.

In the end the Buddhas of the Past triumph. They persuade Buddha to flee away from his cloying pleasures and become a Yogi.

"THEN WAS JESUS LED UP BY THE SPIRIT INTO THE WILDERNESS, TO BE TEMPTED OF THE DEVIL."

Comfortable dowagers driving to church three times on Sunday would be astonished to learn that the essence of Christianity is in this passage. Its meaning has quite passed away from Protestantism, almost from Christendom. The "Lalita Vistara" fully shows what that meaning is. Without Buddhism it would be lost. Jesus was an Essene, and the Essene, like the Indian Yogi, sought to obtain divine union and the "gifts of the Spirit" by solitary reverie in retired spots. In what is called the "Monastery of our Lord" on the Quarantania, a cell is shown with rude frescoes of Jesus and Satan. There, according to tradition, the demoniac hauntings that all mystics speak of occurred.

"I HAVE NEED TO BE BAPTISED OF THEE."

A novice in Yoga has a guru, or teacher. Buddha, in riding away from the palace by and by reached a jungle near VaisalÎ. He at once put himself under a Brahmin Yogi named ArÂta KÂlÂma, but his spiritual insight developed so rapidly that in a short time the Yogi offered to Buddha, the arghya, the offering of rice, flowers, sesamun, etc., that the humble novice usually presents to his instructor, and asked him to teach instead of learning. (Foucaux, "Lalita Vistara," p. 228.)

THIRTY YEARS OF AGE.

M. Ernest de Bunsen, in his work, "The Angel Messiah," says that Buddha, like Christ, commenced preaching at thirty years of age. He certainly must have preached at VaisalÎ, for five young men became his disciples there, and exhorted him to go on with his teaching. ("Lalita Vistara," p. 236.) He was twenty-nine when he left the palace, therefore he might well have preached at thirty. He did not turn the wheel of the law until after a six years' meditation under the Tree of Knowledge.

BAPTISM.

The Buddhist rite of baptism finds its sanction in two incidents in the Buddhist scriptures. In the first, Buddha bathes in the holy river, and MÂra, the evil spirit, tries to prevent him from emerging. In the second, angels administer the holy rite (Abhisheka).

"AND WHEN HE HAD FASTED FORTY DAYS AND FORTY NIGHTS."

Buddha, immediately previous to his great encounter with MÂra, the tempter, fasted forty-nine days and nights. ("Chinese Life," by Wung Puh.)

"COMMAND THAT THESE STONES BE MADE BREAD."

The first temptation of Buddha, when MÂra assailed him under the bo tree, is precisely similar to that of Jesus. His long fast had very nearly killed him. "Sweet creature, you are at the point of death. Sacrifice food." This meant, eat a portion to save your life.

"AGAIN THE DEVIL TAKETH HIM UP INTO AN EXCEEDING HIGH MOUNTAIN," ETC.

The second temptation of MÂra is also like one of Satan's. The tempter, by a miracle, shows Buddha the glorious city of Kapilavastu, twisting the earth round like the "wheel of a potter" to do this. He offers to make him a mighty king of kings (Chakravartin) in seven days. (Bigandet, p. 65.)

THE THIRD TEMPTATION.

Jewish prudery has quite marred the third temptation. From the days of Krishna and the phantom naked woman, KotavÎ, to the days of St. Anthony and St. Jerome, or even to the days of mediÆval monasteries with their incubi and succubi, sex temptations have been a prominent feature of the fasting ascetic's visions. The daughters of MÂra, the tempter, in exquisite forms, now come round Buddha. In the end he converts these pretty ladies, and converts and baptises MÂra himself.

"AND ANGELS CAME AND MINISTERED UNTO HIM."

After his conflict with MÂra, angels come to greet him.

"GLAD TIDINGS OF GREAT JOY."

Buddha, on vanquishing MÂra, left Buddha Gaya for the deer forest of Benares. There he began to preach. His doctrine is called Subha Shita (glad tidings). (See Rajendra L. Mitra "N. Buddhist Lit.," p. 29.)

"BEHOLD A GLUTTONOUS PERSON!"

Five disciples who left him when he gave over the rigid fasts of the Brahmins, called out on seeing him in the deer forest, "Behold a gluttonous person!" (relachÉ et gourmand).

"FOLLOW ME."

Almost his first converts were thirty profligate young men, whom he met sporting with lemans in the Kappasya jungle. "He received them," says Professor Rhys Davids, "into the order, with the formula, 'Follow Me.'" ("Birth Stories," p. 114.)

THE TWELVE GREAT DISCIPLES.

"Except in my religion, the twelve great disciples are not to be found." (Bigandet, p. 301.)

"THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED."

One disciple was called Upatishya (the beloved disciple). In a former existence, he and MaudgalyÂyana had prayed that they might sit, the one on the right hand and the other on the left. Buddha granted this prayer. The other disciples murmured much. (Bigandet, p. 153.)

"GO YE INTO ALL THE WORLD."

From Benares Buddha sent forth the sixty-one disciples. "Go ye forth," he said, "and preach Dharma, no two disciples going the same way." (Bigandet, p. 126.)

"THE SAME CAME TO JESUS BY NIGHT."

Professor Rhys Davids points out that YÂsas, a young rich man, came to Buddha by night for fear of his rich relations.

PAX VOBISCUM.

On one point I have been a little puzzled. The password of the Buddhist Wanderers was Sadhu! which does not seem to correspond with the "Pax Vobiscum!" (Matt. x. 13) of Christ's disciples. But I have just come across a passage in Renan ("Les ApÔtres," p. 22) which shows that the Hebrew word was Schalom! (bonheur!) This is almost a literal translation of Sadhu!

Burnouf says that by preaching and miracle Buddha's religion was established. In point of fact it was the first universal religion. He invented the preacher and the missionary.

"A NEW COMMANDMENT GIVE I YOU, THAT YE LOVE ONE ANOTHER."

"By love alone can we conquer wrath. By good alone can we conquer evil. The whole world dreads violence. All men tremble in the presence of death. Do to others that which ye would have them do to you. Kill not. Cause no death." ("SÛtra of Forty-two Sections," v. 129.)

"Say no harsh words to thy neighbour. He will reply to thee in the same tone." (Ibid. v. 133.)

"'I am injured and provoked, I have been beaten and plundered!' They who speak thus will never cease to hate." (Ibid. v. 4, 5.)

"That which can cause hate to cease in the world is not hate, but the absence of hate."

"If, like a trumpet trodden on in battle, thou complainest not, thou has attained NirvÂna."

"Silently shall I endure abuse, as the war-elephant receives the shaft of the bowman."

"The awakened man goes not on revenge, but rewards with kindness the very being who has injured him, as the sandal tree scents the axe of the woodman who fells it."

THE BEATITUDES.

The Buddhists, like the Christians, have got their Beatitudes. They are plainly arranged for chant and response in the temples. It is to be noted that the Christian Beatitudes were a portion of the early Christian ritual.

THE ONE THING NEEDFUL.

Certain subtle questions were proposed to Buddha, such as: What will best conquer the evil passions of man? What is the most savoury gift for the alms-bowl of the mendicant? Where is true happiness to be found? Buddha replied to them all with one word, Dharma (the heavenly life). (Bigandet, p. 225.)

"WHOSOEVER SHALL SMITE THEE ON THY RIGHT CHEEK OFFER HIM THE OTHER ALSO."

A merchant from SÛnaparanta having joined Buddha's society, was desirous of preaching to his relations, and is said to have asked the permission of the master so to do.

"The people of SÛnaparanta," said Buddha, "are exceedingly violent; if they revile you what will you do?"

"I will make no reply," said the mendicant.

"And if they strike you?"

"I will not strike in return," said the mendicant.

"And if they kill you?"

"Death," said the missionary, "is no evil in itself. Many even desire it to escape from the vanities of life." (Bigandet, p. 216.)

BUDDHA'S THIRD COMMANDMENT.

"Commit no adultery." Commentary by Buddha: "This law is broken by even looking at the wife of another with a lustful mind." (Buddhaghosa's "Parables," by Max MÜller and Rogers, p. 153.)

THE SOWER.

It is recorded that Buddha once stood beside the ploughman KasibhÂradvaja, who reproved him for his idleness. Buddha answered thus:—"I, too, plough and sow, and from my ploughing and sowing I reap immortal fruit. My field is religion. The weeds that I pluck up are the passions of cleaving to this life. My plough is wisdom, my seed purity." ("Hardy Manual," p. 215.)

On another occasion he described almsgiving as being like "good seed sown on a good soil that yields an abundance of fruits. But alms given to those who are yet under the tyrannical yoke of the passions, are like a seed deposited in a bad soil. The passions of the receiver of the alms, choke, as it were, the growth of merits." (Bigandet, p. 211.)

"NOT THAT WHICH GOETH INTO THE MOUTH DEFILETH A MAN."

In the "Sutta NipÂta," chap. ii., is a discourse on the food that defiles a man (Âmaghanda). Therein it is explained at some length that the food that is eaten cannot defile a man, but "destroying living beings, killing, cutting, binding, stealing, falsehood, adultery, evil thoughts, murder,"—this defiles a man, not the eating of flesh.

"WHERE YOUR TREASURE IS."

"A man," says Buddha, "buries a treasure in a deep pit, which lying concealed therein day after day profits him nothing, but there is a treasure of charity, piety, temperance, soberness, a treasure secure, impregnable, that cannot pass away, a treasure that no thief can steal. Let the wise man practise Dharma. This is a treasure that follows him after death." ("Khuddaka PÂtha," p. 13.)

THE HOUSE ON THE SAND.

"It [the seen world] is like a city of sand. Its foundation cannot endure." ("Lalita Vistara," p. 172.)

BLIND GUIDES.

"Who is not freed cannot free others. The blind cannot guide in the way." (Ibid. p. 179.)

"AS YE SOW, SO SHALL YE REAP."

"As men sow, thus shall they reap." ("Ta-chwang-yan-king-lun," sermon 57.)

"A CUP OF COLD WATER TO ONE OF THESE LITTLE ONES."

"Whosoever piously bestows a little water shall receive an ocean in return." ("Ta-chwang-yan-king-lun," sermon 20).

"BE NOT WEARY IN WELL-DOING."

"Not to be weary in well-doing." ("MahÂmangala Sutta," ver. 7.)

"GIVE TO HIM THAT ASKETH."

"Give to him that asketh, even though it be but a little." ("UdÂnavarga," ch. xx. ver. 15.)

"DO UNTO OTHERS," ETC.

"With pure thoughts and fulness of love I will do towards others what I do for myself." ("Lalita Vistara," ch. v.)

"PREPARE YE THE WAY OF THE LORD!"

"Buddha's triumphant entry into RÂjagriha (the "City of the King") has been compared to Christ's entry into Jerusalem. Both, probably, never occurred, and only symbolise the advent of a divine Being to earth. It is recorded in the Buddhist scriptures that on these occasions a "Precursor of Buddha" always appears. (Bigandet, p. 147.)

"WHO DID SIN, THIS MAN OR HIS PARENTS, THAT HE WAS BORN BLIND?" (John ix. 3.)

Professor Kellogg, in his work entitled "The Light of Asia and the Light of the World," condemns Buddhism in nearly all its tenets. But he is especially emphatic in the matter of the metempsychosis. The poor and hopeless Buddhist has to begin again and again "the weary round of birth and death," whilst the righteous Christians go at once into life eternal.

Now it seems to me that this is an example of the danger of contrasting two historical characters when we have a strong sympathy for the one and a strong prejudice against the other. Professor Kellogg has conjured up a Jesus with nineteenth century ideas, and a Buddha who is made responsible for all the fancies that were in the world B.C. 500. Professor Kellogg is a professor of an American university, and as such must know that the doctrine of the gilgal (the Jewish name for the metempsychosis) was as universal in Palestine A.D. 30, as it was in RÂjagriha B.C. 500. An able writer in the Church Quarterly Review of October, 1885, maintains that the Jews brought it from Babylon. Dr. Ginsburg, in his work on the "Kabbalah," shows that the doctrine continued to be held by Jews as late as the ninth century of our era. He shows, too, that St. Jerome has recorded that it was "propounded amongst the early Christians as an esoteric and traditional doctrine."

The author of the article in the Church Quarterly Review, in proof of its existence, adduces the question put by the disciples of Christ in reference to the man that was born blind. And if it was considered that a man could be born blind as a punishment for sin, that sin must have been plainly committed before his birth. Oddly enough, in the "White Lotus of Dharma" there is an account of the healing of a blind man, "Because of the sinful conduct of the man [in a former birth] this malady has risen."

But a still more striking instance is given in the case of the man sick with the palsy. (Luke v. 18.) The Jews believed, with modern Orientals, that grave diseases like paralysis were due, not to physical causes in this life, but to moral causes in previous lives. And if the account of the cure of the paralytic is to be considered historical, it is quite clear that this was Christ's idea when He cured the man, for He distinctly announced that the cure was affected not by any physical processes, but by annulling the "sins" which were the cause of his malady.

Traces of the metempsychosis idea still exist in Catholic Christianity. The doctrine of original sin is said by some writers to be a modification of it. Certainly the fancy that the works of supererogation of their saints can be transferred to others is the Buddhist idea of good karma, which is transferable in a similar manner.

"IF THE BLIND LEAD THE BLIND, BOTH SHALL FALL INTO THE DITCH." (Matt. xv. 14.)

"As when a string of blind men are clinging one to the other, neither can the foremost see, nor the middle one see, nor the hindmost see. Just so, methinks, VÂsittha is the talk of the Brahmins versed in the Three Vedas." (Buddha, in the "Tevigga Sutta," i. 15.)

"EUNUCHS FOR THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN'S SAKE."

In the days of St. Thomas À Kempis the worshipper was modelled on the Christ. In our days, the Christ seems modelled on the worshipper. The Bodleian professor of Sanscrit writes thus: "Christianity teaches that in the highest form of life love is intensified. Buddhism teaches that in the highest state of existence all love is extinguished. According to Christianity—Go and earn your own bread and support yourself and your family. Marriage, it says, is honourable and undefiled, and married life a field where holiness can grow."

But history is history; and a French writer has recently attacked Christ for attempting to bring into Europe the celibacy and pessimism of Buddhism. This author in his work, "JÉsus Bouddha," cites Luke xiv. 26:—

"If any man come to Me, and hate not his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be My disciple."

He adduces also:—

"Let the dead bury their dead."

"Think not that I have come to send peace on earth: I come not to send peace, but a sword. For I am come to set a man at variance against his father, and the daughter against her mother, and the daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law. And a man's foes shall be they of his own household." (Matt. x. 34-36.)

"And the brother shall deliver up the brother to death, and the father the child; and the children shall rise up against their parents, and cause them to be put to death." (Ibid. ver. 21.)

"So likewise, whosoever he be of you that forsaketh not all that he hath, he cannot be my disciple." (Luke xiv. 33).

The author says that all this is pure nihilism, and Essene communism. "The most sacred family ties are to be renounced, and man to lose his individuality and become a unit in a vast scheme to overturn the institutions of his country."

"Qu' importe au fanatisme la ruine de la societÉ humaine."

"The anticosmic tendency of the Christian doctrine," says Mr. Felix Oswald ("Secret of the East," p. 27), "distinguishes it from all religions except Buddhism. In the language of the New Testament the 'world' is everywhere a synonym of evil and sin, the flesh everywhere the enemy of the spirit.... The Gospel of Buddha, though a pernicious, is, however, a perfectly consistent doctrine. Birth, life, and re-birth is an eternal round of sorrow and disappointment. The present and the future are but the upper and lower tire of an ever-rolling wheel of woe. The only salvation from the wheel of life is an escape to the peace of NirvÂna. The attempt to graft this doctrine upon the optimistic theism of Palestine has made the Christian ethics inconsistent and contradictory. A paternal Jehovah who yet eternally and horribly tortures a vast plurality of his children. An earth the perfect work of a benevolent God, yet a vale of tears not made to be enjoyed, but only to be despised and renounced. An omnipotent heaven, and yet unable to prevent the intrigues and constant victories of hell. Christianity is evidently not a homogeneous but a composite, a hybrid religion; and considered in connection with the indications of history, and the evidence of the above-named ethical and traditional analogies, these facts leave no reasonable doubt that the founder of the Galilean Church was a disciple of Buddha Sakyamuni." (p. 139.)

All this is very well if the Buddhists by "salvation" meant escape from life, and not from sin. A "pessimist" Buddhist kingdom, according to this, ought to present the universal sad faces of the "Camelot" of a modern school of artists, and yet the Burmese are pronounced by all to be the merriest and happiest of God's creatures. We know, too, that India never was so prosperous as in the days of Buddhist rule. The monks carried agriculture to high perfection; and Indian fabrics were famous everywhere. A convent meant less a career than an education in spiritual knowledge. Like the Essene, the Buddhist monk was not forced to remain for life. Catholicism introduced that change.

"THEN ALL HIS DISCIPLES FORSOOK HIM AND FLED."

It is recorded that on one occasion when a "must" elephant charged furiously, "all the disciples deserted Buddha. Ananda alone remained." ("Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king," iv. 21.)

"IF THY RIGHT EYE OFFEND THEE."

Mr. Felix Oswald ("The Secret of the East," p. 134) announces, without however giving a more detailed reference, that according to Max Muller's translation of the "Ocean of Worlds," a young monk meets a rich woman who pities his hard lot.

"Blessed is the woman who looks into thy lovely eyes!"

"Lovely!" replied the monk. "Look here!" And plucking out one of his eyes he held it up, bleeding and ghastly, and asked her to correct her opinion.

WALKING ON THE WATER.

Certain villagers, hard of belief, were listening to Buddha on the shore of a mighty river. Suddenly by a miracle the great teacher caused a man to appear walking on the water from the other side, without immersing his feet. ("Chinese Dhammapada," p. 51.)

"AND LO! THERE WAS A GREAT CALM."

PÛrna, one of Buddha's disciples, had a brother in danger of shipwreck in a "black storm." But the guardian spirits of PÛrna informed him of this. He at once transported himself through the air from the distant inland town to the deck of the ship. "Immediately the black tempest ceased as if Sumeru had arrested it." (Burnouf, Introd., p. 229.)

A BUDDHA MULTIPLYING FOOD.

Buddha once narrated a story of a former Buddha, who visited King Sudarsana in his city of Jambunada (Fu-pen-hing-tsi-king).

Now in that city was a man who was the next day to be married, and he much wished the Buddha to come to the feast. Buddha, passing by, read his silent wish, and consented to come. The bridegroom was overjoyed, and scattered many flowers over his house and sprinkled it with perfumes.

The next day Buddha with his alms-bowl in his hand and with a retinue of many followers arrived; and when they had taken their seats in due order, the host distributed every kind of exquisite food, saying, "Eat, my lord, and all the congregation, according to your desire."

But now a marvel presented itself to the astonished mind of the host. Although all these holy men ate very heartily, the meats and the drinks remained positively quite undiminished; whereupon he argued in his mind, "If I could only invite all my kinsmen to come, the banquet would be sufficient for them likewise."

And now another marvel was presented. Buddha read the good man's thought, and all the relatives without invitation streamed in at the door. They, also, fed heartily on the miraculous food.

"WHY EATETH YOUR MASTER WITH PUBLICANS AND SINNERS?" (Matt. ix. 10.)

The Courtesan AmrapalÎ invited Buddha and his disciples to a banquet in the mango grove at VaisalÎ. Buddha accepted. Some rich princes, sparkling in emeralds, came and gave him a similar invitation. He refused. They were very angry to see him sit at meat with AmrapalÎ. He explained to his disciples that the harlot might enter the kingdom of Dharma more easily than the prince. (Bigandet, p. 251.)

THE PENITENT THIEF.

Buddha confronts a terrible bandit in his mountain retreat and converts him. ("Chinese Dhammapada," p. 98.)

"THERE WAS WAR IN HEAVEN."

Professor Beal, in his "Catena of Buddhist Scriptures" (p. 52), tells us that, in the "Saddharma PrÂkasa Sasana SÛtra," a great war in heaven is described. In it the "wicked dragons" assault the legions of heaven. After a terrific conflict they are driven down by Indra and the heavenly hosts.

"THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN IS LIKE UNTO A MERCHANT-MAN SEEKING GOODLY PEARLS, WHO, WHEN HE HAD FOUND ONE PEARL OF GREAT PRICE, WENT AND SOLD ALL THAT HE HAD AND BOUGHT IT." (Matt. xiii. 45.)

The most sacred emblem of Buddhism is called the mani (pearl), and in the Chinese biography, a merchant-man seeking goodly pearls finds it, and unfortunately drops it into the sea. Rather than lose it he tries to drain the sea dry. ("Rom. Hist.," p. 228.)

THE VOICE FROM THE SKY.

This sounds often in the Buddhist narratives. (See Beal, "Rom. Hist.," p. 105.)

FAITH.

"Faith is the first gate of the Law." ("Lalita Vistara," p. 39.)

"All who have faith in me obtain a mighty joy." (Ibid. p. 188.)

"THOU ART NOT YET FIFTY YEARS OLD, AND HAST THOU SEEN ABRAHAM?"

In the "White Lotus of Dharma" (ch. xiv.) Buddha is asked how it is that having sat under the bo tree only forty years ago he has been able, according to his boast, to see many Buddhas and saints who died hundreds of years previously. He answers that he has lived many hundred thousand myriads of Kotis, and that though in the form of a Buddha, he is in reality Swayambhu, the Self-Existent, the Father of the million worlds. In proof of this statement, he causes two Buddhas of the Past, PrabhÛtaratna and Gadgadesvara, to appear in the sky. The first pronounces loudly these words: "It is well! It is well!" These Buddhas appear with their sepulchral canopies (stupas) of diamonds, red pearls, emeralds, etc. Peter, at the scene of the Transfiguration, said to Christ:—

"Let us make here three tabernacles, one for Thee, one for Moses, and one for Elias." Why should Peter want to adopt a Buddhist custom and build tabernacles for the dead Moses and the dead Elias? Why, also, should Moses come from the tomb to support a teacher who had torn his covenant with Yahve to shreds?

"HE WAS TRANSFIGURED BEFORE THEM."

Buddha, leaving MaudgalyÂyana and another disciple to represent him, went off through the air to the Devaloca, to the Heaven Tus´ita, to preach to the spirits in prison and to convert his mother. When he came down from the mountain (Mienmo), a staircase of glittering diamonds, seen by all, helped his descent. His appearance was blinding. The "six glories" glittered on his person. Mortals and spirits hymned the benign Being who emptied the hells. (Bigandet, p. 209.)

In the Gospel according to the Hebrews is a curious passage, which Baur and Hilgenfeld hold to be the earliest version of the Transfiguration narrative.

"Just now my mother, the Holy Spirit, took me by one of my hairs and bore me up on to the great mountain of Tabor."

This is curious. Buddha and Jesus reach the Mount of Transfiguration, each through the influence of his mother. But perhaps the Jewish writer did not like the universalism inculcated in the Buddhist narrative.

"HE BEGAN TO WASH THE DISCIPLES' FEET." (John xiii. 5.)

In a vihÂra at GandhÂra was a monk so loathsome and stinking, on account of his maladies, that none of his brother disciples dare go near him. The great Teacher came and tended him lovingly and washed his feet. ("Chinese Dhammapada," p. 94.)

THE GREAT BANQUET OF BUDDHA.

In the "Lalita Vistara" (p. 51) it is stated that those who have faith will become "sons of Buddha," and partake of the "food of the kingdom." Four things draw disciples to his banquet,—gifts, soft words, production of benefits, conformity of benefits.

BAPTISM.

In a Chinese life of Buddha by Wung Puh (see Beal, "Journ. As. Soc.," vol. xx. p. 172), it is announced that Buddha at VaisalÎ delivered a SÛtra, entitled, "The baptism that rescues from life and death and confers salvation."

"AND NONE OF THEM IS LOST BUT THE SON OF PERDITION."

Buddha had also a treacherous disciple, Devadatta. He schemed with a wicked prince, who sent men armed with bows and swords to slaughter Buddha. Devadatta tried other infamous stratagems. His end was appalling. Coming in a palanquin to arrest Buddha, he got out to stretch himself. Suddenly fierce flames burst out and he was carried down to the hell Avichi (the Rayless Place). There, in a red-hot cauldron, impaled by one red bar and pierced by two others, he will stay for a whole Kalpa. Then he will be forgiven. (Bigandet, p. 244.)

THE LAST SUPPER.

Buddha had his last supper or repast with his disciples. A treacherous disciple changed his alms-bowl, and apparently he was poisoned. (See Rockhill's "Buddha," p. 133.) Fierce pains seized him as he journeyed afterwards. He was forced to rest. He sent a message to his host, Kunda, the son of the jeweller, to feel no remorse although the feast had been his death. Under two trees he now died.

It will be remembered that during the last supper of Jesus a treacherous disciple "dipped into his dish," but as Jesus was not poisoned, the event had no sequence.

"NOW FROM THE SIXTH HOUR THERE WAS DARKNESS OVER ALL THE LAND UNTIL THE NINTH HOUR."

The critical school base much of their contention that the gospels do not record real history on this particular passage. They urge that such an astounding event could not have escaped Josephus and Tacitus. When Buddha died, the "sun and moon withdrew their shining," and dust and ashes fell like rain. "The great earth quaked throughout. The crash of the thunder shook the heavens and the earth, rolling along the mountains and valleys." ("Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king," v. 26.) The Buddhist account is certainly not impossible, for the chronicler takes advantage of the phenomena of an Indian dust-storm to produce his dark picture. At Lucknow, before the siege, I remember a storm so dense at midday that some ladies with my regiment thought the Day of Judgment had arrived.

"AND MANY BODIES OF THE SAINTS WHICH SLEPT AROSE."

When Buddha died at Kus'inagara, Ananda and another disciple saw many denizens of the unseen world in the city, by the river Yigdan. (Rockhill's "Life of the Buddha," p. 133.)

"TO ANOINT MY BODY TO THE BURYING." (Mark xiv. 8.)

The newly discovered fragments of the Gospel of Peter give striking evidence of the haphazard way in which extracts from the Buddhist books seem to have been sprinkled among the gospels. It records that Mary Magdalene, "taking with her her friends," went to the sepulchre of Jesus to "place themselves beside him and perform the rites" of wailing, beating breasts, etc. AmrapalÎ and other courtesans did the same rites to Buddha, and the disciples were afterwards indignant that impure women should have "washed his dead body with their tears." (Rockhill, "Thibetan Life," p. 153.)

In the Christian records are three passages, all due, I think, to the Buddhist narrative. In one, "a woman" anoints Jesus; in John (xii. 7), "Mary" anoints him; in Luke, a "sinner," who kisses and washes his feet with her hair. Plainly these last passages are quite irrational. No woman could have performed the washing and other burial rites on a man alive and in health.

"THEY PARTED MY GARMENTS."

The AbbÉ Huc tells us ("Voyages," ii. p. 278) that on the death of the BoktÉ Lama his garments are cut into little strips and prized immensely.

"HE APPEARED UNTO MANY."

Buddha prophesied that he would appear after his death. ("Lotus," p. 144.) In a Chinese version quoted by Eitel ("Three Lectures," p. 57), Buddha to soothe his mother, who had come down weeping from the skies, opens his coffin lid and appears to her. In the temple sculptures he is constantly depicted coming down to the altar during worship. (See illustrations to my "Buddhism in Christendom.")

THE "GREAT WHITE THRONE."

Mr. Upham, in his "History of Buddhism" (pp. 56, 57), gives a description of the Buddhist heaven. There is a "high mountain," and a city "four square" with gates of gold and silver, adorned with precious stones. Seven moats surround the city. Beyond the last one is a row of marble pillars studded with jewels. The great throne of the god stands in the centre of a great hall, and is surmounted by a white canopy. Round the great throne are seated heavenly ministers, who record men's actions in a "golden book." A mighty tree is conspicuous in the garden. In the Chinese heaven is the "Gem Lake," by which stands the peach tree whose fruit gives immortality.

THE ATONEMENT.

The idea of transferred good Karma, the merits of the former lives of an individual being passed on to another individual, is of course quite foreign to the lower Judaism, which believed in no after life at all. In the view of the higher Buddhism, Sakya Muni saved the world by his teaching, but to the lower, the Buddhism of offerings and temples and monks, this doctrine of Karma was the life-blood. It was proclaimed that Buddha had a vast stock of superfluous Karma, and that offerings at a temple might cause the worshipper in his next life to be a prince instead of a pig or a coolie. In the "Lalita Vistara" (Chinese version, p. 225) it is announced that when Buddha overcame MÂra all flesh rejoiced, the blind saw, the deaf heard, the dumb spake, the hells were cleared, and all by reason of Buddha's Karma in previous lives.

In Romans (v. 18), St. Paul writes thus:—

"As by the offence of one, judgment came upon all men to condemnation, even so by the righteousness of one the free gift came upon all men unto justification of life.

"For as by one man's disobedience many were made sinners, so by the obedience of one shall many be made righteous."

Here plainly all the world is saved by the Karma of Christ.

Now Dr. Kuenen, whose main proposition is that Christianity emerged from Judaism alone, should tell us how Paul got this idea. The priests and the Levites were the sole interpreters of the law, and they had settled that a certain Hebrew had so broken that law that it was necessary to execute him. And now another Hebrew proclaims that the righteousness of this man is so great that he can bestow the "free gift of life" to "all men." Would not Caiaphas have called the second Hebrew out of his mind.

But St. Paul was a Pharisee, and as a Pharisee he knew that the Pharisees that he tried to convert believed that nothing but blood could wipe out sin. In the person of Christ he mixed up the two ideas.

"Whom God hath set forth to be a propitiation through faith in His blood, to declare His righteousness for the remission of sins that are past, through the forbearance of God." (Rom. iii. 25.)

But according to our first quotation, Christ had already saved "all men" by his righteousness alone. Plainly St. Paul, who viewed the Old Testament as "allegory," "carnal ordinances," "beggarly elements," and so on, never meant his trope about Adam's sin to be taken too literally.

PARABLES.

Buddha taught in parables. I will give one or two. The reader is referred to my "Popular Life of Buddha" for some very beautiful ones.

THE PRODIGAL SON.

A certain man had a son who went away into a far country. There he became miserably poor. The father, however, grew rich, and accumulated much gold and treasure, and many storehouses and elephants. But he tenderly loved his lost son, and secretly lamented that he had no one to whom to leave his palaces and suvernas at his death.

After many years the poor man, in search of food and clothing, happened to come to the country where his father had great possessions. And when he was afar off his father saw him, and reflected thus in his mind: "If I at once acknowledge my son and give to him my gold and my treasures, I shall do him a great injury. He is ignorant and undisciplined; he is poor and brutalised. With one of such miserable inclinations 'twere better to educate the mind little by little. I will make him one of my hired servants."

Then the son, famished and in rags, arrived at the door of his father's house; and seeing a great throne upraised, and many followers doing homage to him who sat upon it, was awed by the pomp and the wealth around. Instantly he fled once more to the highway. "This," he thought, "is the house of the poor man. If I stay at the palace of the king perhaps I shall be thrown into prison."

Then the father sent messengers after his son; who was caught and brought back in spite of his cries and lamentations. When he reached his father's house he fell down fainting with fear, not recognising his father, and believing that he was about to suffer some cruel punishment. The father ordered his servants to deal tenderly with the poor man, and sent two labourers of his own rank of life to engage him as a servant on the estate. They gave him a broom and a basket, and engaged him to clean up the dung-heap at a double wage.

From the window of his palace the rich man watched his son at his work: and disguising himself one day as a poor man, and covering his limbs with dust and dirt, he approached his son and said, "Stay here, good man, and I will provide you with food and clothing. You are honest, you are industrious. Look upon me as your father."

After many years the father felt his end approaching, and he summoned his son and the officers of the king, and announced to them the secret that he had so long kept. The poor man was his son, who in early days had wandered away from him; and now that he was conscious of his former debased condition, and was able to appreciate and retain vast wealth, he was determined to hand over to him his entire treasure. The poor man was astonished at this sudden change of fortune, and overjoyed at meeting his father once more.

The parables of Buddha are reported in the Lotus of the Perfect Law to be veiled from the ignorant by means of an enigmatic form of language. The rich man of this parable, with his throne adorned by flowers and garlands of jewels, is announced to be Tathagata (God), who dearly loves all his children, and has prepared for them vast spiritual treasures. But each son of Tathagata has miserable inclinations. He prefers the dung-heap to the pearl mani. To teach such a man, Tathagata is obliged to employ inferior agents, the monk and the ascetic, and to wean him by degrees from the lower objects of desire. When he speaks himself, he is forced to veil much of his thought, as it would not be understood. His sons feel no joy on hearing spiritual things. Little by little must their minds be trained and disciplined for higher truths.

PARABLE OF THE WOMAN AT THE WELL.

Ananda, a favourite disciple of Buddha, was once athirst, having travelled far. At a well he encountered a girl named Matanga, and asked her to give him some water to drink. But she being a woman of low caste, was afraid of contaminating a holy Brahmana, and refused humbly.

"I ask not for caste, but for water!" said Ananda. His condescension won the heart of the girl Matanga.

It happened that she had a mother cunning in love philtres and weird arts, and when this woman heard how much her daughter was in love, she threw her magic spells round the disciple and brought him to her cave. Helpless, he prayed to Buddha, who forthwith appeared and cast out the wicked demons.

But the girl Matanga was still in wretched plight. At last she determined to repair to Buddha himself and appeal to him.

The Great Physician, reading the poor girl's thought questioned her gently:—

"Supposing that you marry my disciple, can you follow him everywhere?"

"Everywhere!" said the girl.

"Could you wear his clothes, sleep under the same roof?" said Buddha, alluding to the nakedness and beggary of the "houseless one."

By slow degrees the girl began to take in his meaning, and at last she took refuge in the Three Great Jewels.

A common objection to Buddhism is that it fails to proclaim the fatherhood of God.

"The loving Father of all that lives." (Tsing-tu-wan.)

"Our loving Father and Father of all that breathes." ("Imit. Buddha," p. 67.) (" Daily Manual of the Shaman," cited by Mr. Bowden.)

"I am the Heavenly Father (loka pita Swayambhu), the Healer, the Protector of all creatures." (Kern, "Lotus," p. 310.)

I will give a pretty parable that pictures Buddha as a Father.

PARABLE OF THE BLAZING MANSION.

Once there was an old man, broken, decrepit, but very rich. He possessed much land and many gold pieces. Moreover, he possessed a large rambling mansion which also showed plain proofs of Time's decay. Its rafters were worm-eaten; its pillars were rotten; its galleries were tumbling down; the thatch on its roof was dry and combustible. Inside this mansion were several hundreds of the old man's servants and retainers, so extensive was the collection of rambling old buildings.

Unfortunately, this mansion possessed only one door.

The old man was also the father of many children—five, ten, twenty, let us say. One day there was a smell of burning, and he ran out by the solitary door. To his horror he saw the thatch in a mass of flame, the rotten old pillars were catching fire one by one, the rafters were blazing like tinder. Inside, his children, whom he loved most tenderly, were romping and amusing themselves with their toys.

The distracted father said to himself, "I will run in and save my children. I will seize them in my strong arms. I will bear them harmless through the falling rafters and the blazing beams!" Then the sad thought seized him that his children were romping and ignorant. "If I tell them that the house is on fire they will not understand me. If I try to seize them they will romp about and try to escape. Alas! not a moment is to be lost!"

Suddenly a bright thought flashed across the old man's mind. "My children are ignorant," he mentally said, "but they love toys and glittering playthings. I will promise them some playthings of unheard-of beauty. Then they will listen to me!"

So the old man shouted out with a loud voice, "Children, children, come out of the house and see these beautiful toys. Chariots with white oxen, all gold and tinsel. See these exquisite little antelopes! Whoever saw such goats as these! Children, children, come quickly or they will all be gone!"

Forth from the blazing ruin came the children in hot haste. The word "playthings" was almost the only word that they could understand. Then the fond father, in his great joy at seeing his offspring freed from peril, procured for them some of the most beautiful chariots ever seen. Each chariot had a canopy like a pagoda. It had tiny rails and balustrades, and rows of jingling bells. It was formed of the seven precious substances. Chaplets of glittering pearls were hung aloft upon it; standards and wreaths of the most lovely flowers. Milk-white oxen drew these chariots. The children were astonished when they were placed inside.

The meaning of this parable is thus rendered in the "White Lotus of Dharma." The old man is Tathagata, and his children the blind, suffering children of sin and passion. Tathagata fondly loves them, and would save them from their unhappiness. The old rambling mansion, unsightly, rotten, perilous, is the Domain of Karma, the Domain of Appetite. This old mansion is ablaze with the fire of mortal passions, and hates, and lusts. Tathagata in his "immense compassion" would lead all his beloved children away from this great peril, but they do not understand his language. Their only thought is of tinsel toys and childish pastimes. If he speaks to them of the great inner quickening which makes man conquer human pain, they cannot understand him. If he talks to them of wondrous supernatural gifts accorded to mortals, they turn a deaf ear to him. The tinsel chariots provided for the children of Tathagata are the "Vehicles" of the Buddhist teaching.