It would be a very interesting study to examine the points of similarity and difference in the writings of the early Buddhists and the teachings of Lao-tzu; but this cannot be attempted here. There is one circumstance, however, to which I shall allude, that is, the resemblance of the Buddhist Bodhisattva (P?usa) Mandjusri to Lao-tzu. The Nepaulese traditions about this P?usa also make him to be a foreigner and to have come to their country from China, though other accounts represent him as returning from the latter country to his home in Nepaul. A full and very interesting account of Mandjusri, or “MaÑdjuÇri,” as Burnouf writes it, will be found in that accomplished scholar’s “Le Lotus de la bonne Loi.”1 RÉmusat and Pauthier insist on the western origin of Lao-tzu’s doctrines, and there are certainly not a few points of resemblance between them and some of the early Indian systems of religion and philosophy. Of these the doctrine of annihilation, or at least of final absorption, is one of the most striking.
Another interesting study in connection with Lao-tzu would be to trace the history of his opinions among succeeding generations. This would however, be in great degree a painful study. The metaphysical work of Chwang-tzu, wild and extravagant though it be occasionally, is worthy of being read, and M. Julien has kindly promised to translate it for us. Lie-tzu and several others of his followers are also worth reading, but the great majority of so called Taoist books are utterly despicable at least in our eyes. Mr. Edkins says of the “Taoist system”—“Its appeal is made to the lower wants of the Chinese. It invents divinities to promote the physical well-being of the people. The gods of riches, of longevity, of war, and of particular disease, all belong to this religion.”2 The pure and spiritual sayings uttered by Lao-tzu have been taken in a gross sense and perverted by thoughtless, faithless people, who would have a meritorious life consist solely in external acts, thus entirely reversing their master’s precepts. He spoke of length of days to be desired as the result of a calm and philosophic life, but degenerate followers sought for many years, in ways shameful to relate. They changed his plain and simple language into euphuistic terms which cause them to be reproached. The Taoists, says one author, call the chattering of their teeth the Heavenly drum, they swallow their spittle and call it the Fairy Spring, they speak of horse’s excrement as magical fuel and of rats as vivifying medicine. By such means they think they can attain Tao, but, as the writer asks,—can they attain it?3
Though his doctrines, however, have become greatly corrupted and perverted the greatness of Lao-tzu himself has not diminished. From the time of the Empress (?) of the West Hans, near the end of the Chou dynasty, the beginning of his honour dates, and from the time of the Chin and Liang dynasties down to the Great T?ang dynasty, his doctrines and his name were glorified.4 He was promoted to be a God, and wonderful things were invented about him and the Tao of which he spoke so much. One of the T?ang emperors conferred on him the sublime title—Great Ruler of the very exalted mysterious Beginning. Nor has he remained without honour among outside barbarians. Cunningham says:—“He (Lao-tzu) was therefore a contemporary of Sakya Muni, by whom he is said to have been worsted in argument. By the Tibetan Buddhists he is called Sen-rabs; but this perhaps signifies nothing more than that he was of the race or family of Sena. His faith continued paramount in Great Tibet for nine centuries, until Buddhism was generally introduced by Seong-Stan in the middle of the seventh century.”5 It seems to me more than doubtful, however, whether these Tirthikas of India, to whom Cunningham alludes as the adherents of Lao-tzu?s faith, can be regarded as such. A large and influential school could not be established in so short a time as elapsed between the time when Lao-tzu flourished and the time of Buddha’s preaching, if indeed any time whatever elapsed. It is perhaps sufficient to observe that there is a considerable amount of similarity between the tenets imputed to the Tirthikas and those of the Chinese philosopher.
The followers of Lao-tzu spread his fame among the Japanese islands also, where Sinto or ShÊn-tao, that is the Spiritual Tao, was known before Buddhism was introduced. Sir R. Alcock, however, says—“That there was an indigenous religion as old as their (the Japanese) history, one formed by and for themselves in long-past ages, the Sintoo, which survives to this day; that some ten or fifteen centuries ago or more, this was overlaid by the Confucian doctrines—a code of moral ethics, not a religion in the proper sense of the term—and about the seventh century both were in great degree supplemented by the Buddhist faith derived from China, we do know with tolerable certainty. But this is nearly the sum.”6 Mr. Edkins has given a short but very interesting account of Taoism in Japan, derived principally from KÆmpfer. It is somewhat remarkable that as the Japanese have their spiritual chief or Mikado so the Chinese Taoists also have one, and each is supposed to be a present deity having a sacred title derived through many ages. The Chinese chief, however, is a much less powerful and important personage than the Mikado. The first of the Taoist patriarchs in China was Chang Tao-ling (???) who lived in the time of the Han dynasty.7 Lao-tzu appeared to him on the Stork-cry Hill and told him that in order to attain the state of immortality which he was seeking he must subdue a number of demons. Tao-ling in his eagerness slew too many, and Lao-tzu told him that Shang Ti required him to do penance for a time. Finally, however, he was allowed to become an immortal, and the spiritual chiefdom of the Taoists was given to his family for ever. The descendants of Tao-ling reside at the Dragon-tiger Hill near Kwei-hsi in the province of Kiangsi. It is apparently about this Chang Tao-ling that Edkins says—“Chang, one of the genii of Taouist romance, is believed to be identical with the star cluster of the same name, and he is represented by painters and idol-makers with a bow in his hands, shooting the heavenly dog.”8 One title of this spiritual chief in China is T?ien-shi, or Heavenly Teacher and the original patriarch seems to be worshipped in Japan under this name. Commodore Perry says that of the two and twenty shrines in the kingdom which command the homage of pilgrimage, “the great and most sacred one is that of the Sun-goddess, Ten-sio-dai-sin, at Isye.” Previously he had stated—“It is said that the only object of worship among the Sintoos is the Sun-goddess, Ten-sio-dai-zin, who is deemed the patron divinity of Japan *** The Mikado is supposed to be her lineal descendant.”9 Why, however, the deity should be a female and a Sun-goddess I do not understand.
We must now bid farewell to Lao-tzu. The study of his work and his life, as also of the fortunes of his doctrines, is a difficult task but not without interest and instruction, and the writer is afraid he has lingered too long over it. He hopes, however, that his efforts will even in a very small degree help to raise Lao-tzu to the place in the history of Philosophy, and in the history of the benefactors of humanity, to which he is fairly entitled.
FINIS.