BRASS IMAGE OF GAUTAMA BUDDHA FROM CEYLON.

He is seated on the Mućalinda Serpent (see [p. 480]), in an attitude of profound meditation, with eyes half closed, and five rays of light emerging from the crown of his head. [Frontispiece.

BUDDHISM,
IN ITS CONNEXION WITH BRĀHMANISM AND HINDŪISM,
AND
IN ITS CONTRAST WITH
CHRISTIANITY,

BY
SIR MONIER MONIER-WILLIAMS, K.C.I.E.,
M.A., HON. D.C.L. OF THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD,
HON. LL.D. OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALCUTTA,
HON. PH.D. OF THE UNIVERSITY OF GÖTTINGEN,
HON. MEMBER OF THE ASIATIC SOCIETIES OF BENGAL AND BOMBAY,
AND OF THE ORIENTAL AND PHILOSOPHICAL SOCIETIES OF AMERICA,
BODEN PROFESSOR OF SANSKṚIT,
AND LATE FELLOW OF BALLIOL COLLEGE, OXFORD, ETC.

NEW YORK:
MACMILLAN AND CO.
1889.

[All rights reserved.]

PREFACE.

The ‘Duff Lectures’ for 1888 were delivered by me at Edinburgh in the month of March. In introducing my subject, I spoke to the following effect:—

‘I wish to express my deep sense of the responsibility which the writing of these Lectures has laid upon me, and my earnest desire that they may, by their usefulness, prove in some degree worthy of the great missionary whose name they bear.

‘Dr. Duff was a man of power, who left his own foot-print so deeply impressed on the soil of Bengal, that its traces are never likely to be effaced, and still serve to encourage less ardent spirits, who are striving to imitate his example in the same field of labour.

‘But not only is the impress of his vigorous personality still fresh in Bengal. He has earned an enduring reputation throughout India and the United Kingdom, as the prince of educational missionaries. He was in all that he undertook an enthusiastic and indefatigable workman, of whom, if of any human being, it might be truly said, that, when called upon to quit the sphere of his labours, “he needed not to be ashamed.” No one can have travelled much in India without having observed how wonderfully the results of his indomitable energy and fervid eloquence in the cause of Truth wait on the memory of his work everywhere. Monuments may be erected and lectureships founded to perpetuate his name and testify to his victories over difficulties which few other men could have overcome, but better than these will be the living testimony of successive generations of Hindū men and women, whose growth and progress in true enlightenment will be due to the seed which he planted, and to which God has given the increase.’

I said a few more words expressive of my hope that the ‘Life of Dr. Duff’[1] would be read and pondered by every student destined for work of any kind in our Indian empire, and to that biography I refer all who are unacquainted with the particulars of the labours of a man to whom Scotland has assigned a place in the foremost rank of her most eminent Evangelists.

I now proceed to explain the process by which these Lectures have gradually outgrown the limits required by the Duff Trustees.

When I addressed myself to the carrying out of their wishes—communicated to me by Mr. W. Pirie Duff—I had no intention of undertaking more than a concise account of a subject which I had been studying for many years. I conceived it possible to compress into six Lectures a scholarly sketch of what may be called true Buddhism,—that is, the Buddhism of the Piṭakas or Pāli texts which are now being edited by the Pāli Text Society, and some of which have been translated in the ‘Sacred Books of the East.’ It soon, however, became apparent to me that to write an account of Buddhism which would be worthy of the great Indian missionary, I ought to exhibit it in its connexion with Brāhmanism and Hindūism and even with Jainism, and in its contrast with Christianity. Then, as I proceeded, I began to feel that to do justice to my subject I should be compelled to enlarge the range of my researches, so as to embrace some of the later phases and modern developments of Buddhism. This led me to undertake a more careful study of Koeppen’s Lamaismus than I had before thought necessary. Furthermore, I felt it my duty to study attentively numerous treatises on Northern Buddhism, which I had before read in a cursory manner. I even thought it incumbent on me to look a little into the Tibetan language, of which I was before wholly ignorant.

I need scarcely explain further the process of expansion through which the present work has passed. A conviction took possession of my mind, that any endeavour to give even an outline of the whole subject of Buddhism in six Lectures, would be rather like the effort of a foolish man trying to paint a panorama of London on a sheet of note-paper. Hence the expansion of six Lectures into eighteen, and it will be seen at once that many of these eighteen are far too long to have been delivered in extenso. In point of fact, by an arrangement with the Trustees, only a certain portion of any Lecture was delivered orally. The present work is rather a treatise on Buddhism printed and published in memory of Dr. Duff.

I need not encumber the Preface with a re-statement of the reasons which have made the elucidation of an intricate subject almost hopelessly difficult. They have been stated in the Introductory Lecture (pp. [13], [14]).

Moreover the plan of the present volume has been there set forth (see [p. 17]).

I may possibly be asked by weary readers why I have ventured to add another tributary to the too swollen stream of treatises on Buddhism? or some may employ another metaphor and inquire why I have troubled myself to toil and plod over a path already well travelled over and trodden down? My reply is that I think I can claim for my own work an individuality which separates it from that of others—an individuality which may probably commend it to thoughtful students of Buddhism as helping to clear a thorny road, and introduce some little order and coherence into the chaotic confusion of Buddhistic ideas.

At any rate I request permission to draw attention to the following points, which, I think, may invest my researches with a distinctive character of their own.

In the first place I have been able to avail myself of the latest publications of the Pāli Text Society, and to consult many recent works which previous writers on Buddhism have not had at their command.

Secondly, I have striven to combine scientific accuracy with a popular exposition sufficiently readable to satisfy the wants of the cultured English-speaking world—a world crowded with intelligent readers who take an increasing interest in Buddhism, and yet know nothing of Sanskṛit, Pāli, and Tibetan.

Thirdly, I have aimed at effecting what no other English Orientalist has, to my knowledge, ever accomplished. I have endeavoured to deal with a complex subject as a whole, and to present in one volume a comprehensive survey of the entire range of Buddhism, from its earliest origin in India to its latest modern developments in other Asiatic countries.

Fourthly, I have brought to the study of Buddhism and its sacred language Pāli, a life-long preparatory study of Brāhmanism and its sacred language Sanskṛit.

Fifthly, I have on three occasions travelled through the sacred land of Buddhism ([p. 21]), and have carried on my investigations personally in the place of its origin, as well as in Ceylon and on the borders of Tibet.

Lastly, I have depicted Buddhism from the standpoint of a believer in Christianity, who has shown, by his other works on Eastern religions, an earnest desire to give them credit for all the good they contain.

In regard to this last point, I shall probably be told by some enthusiastic admirers of Buddhism, that my prepossessions and predilections—inherited with my Christianity—have, in spite of my desire to be just, distorted my view of a system with which I have no sympathy. To this I can only reply, that my consciousness of my own prepossessions has made me the more sensitively anxious to exhibit Buddhism under its best aspects, as well as under its worst. An attentive perusal of my last Lecture (see [p. 537]) will, I hope, make it evident that I have at least done everything in my power to dismiss all prejudice from my mind, and to assume and maintain the attitude of an impartial judge. And to this end I have taken nothing on trust, or at second hand. I have studied Pāli, as I have the other Indian Prākṛits, on my own account, and independently. I have not accepted unreservedly any man’s interpretation of the original Buddhist texts, and have endeavoured to verify for myself all doubtful statements and translations which occur in existing treatises. Of course I owe much to modern Pāli scholars, and writers on Buddhism, and to the translators of the ‘Sacred Books of the East;’ but I have frequently felt compelled to form an independent opinion of my own.

The translations given in the ‘Sacred Books of the East’—good as they generally are—have seemed to me occasionally misleading. I may mention as an instance the constant employment by the translators of the word ‘Ordination’ for the ceremonies of admission to the Buddhist monkhood (see pp. [76]-80 of the present volume). I have ventured in such instances to give what has appeared to me a more suitable equivalent for the Pāli. On the same principle I have avoided all needless employment of Christian terminology and Bible-language to express Buddhist ideas.

For example, I have in most cases excluded such words as ‘sin,’ ‘holiness,’ ‘faith’, ‘trinity,’ ‘priest’ from my explanations of the Buddhist creed, as wholly unsuitable.

I regret that want of space has compelled me to curtail my observations on Jainism—the present representative of Buddhistic doctrines in India (see [p. 529].) I hope to enter more fully on this subject hereafter.

The names of authors to whom students of Buddhism are indebted are given in my first Lecture (pp. 14, 15). We all owe much to Childers. My own thanks are specially due to General Sir Alexander Cunningham, to Professor E. B. Cowell of Cambridge, Professor Rhys Davids, Dr. Oldenberg, Dr. Rost, Dr. Morris, Dr. Wenzel, who have aided me with their opinions, whenever I have thought it right to consult them. Dr. Rost, C.I.E., of the India Office, is also entitled to my warmest acknowledgments for having placed at my disposal various subsidiary works bearing on Buddhism, some of which belong to his own Library.

My obligations to Mr. Hoey’s translation of Dr. Oldenberg’s ‘Buddha,’ to the translations of the travels of the Chinese pilgrims by Professor Legge, Mr. Beal, M. Abel Rémusat, and M. Stanislas Julien, to M. Huc’s travels, and to Mr. Scott’s ‘Burman,’ will be evident, and have been generally acknowledged in my notes. I am particularly grateful to Mr. Sarat Chandra Dās, C.I.E., for the information contained in his Report and for the instruction which I received from him personally while prosecuting my inquiries at Dārjīling.

I have felt compelled to abbreviate nearly all my quotations, and therefore occasionally to alter the phraseology. Hence I have thought it right to mark them by a different type without inverted commas.

With regard to transliteration I must refer the student to the rules for pronunciation given at [p. xxxi]. They conform to the rules given in my Sanskṛit Grammar and Dictionary. Like Dr. Oldenberg, I have preferred to substitute Sanskṛit terminations in a for the Pāli o. In Tibetan I have constantly consulted Jäschke, but have not followed his system of transliteration.

In conclusion, I may fitly draw attention to the engravings of objects, some of which were brought by myself from Buddhist countries. They are described in the list of illustrations (see [p. xxix]), and will, I trust, give value to the present volume. It has seemed to me a duty to make use of every available appliance for throwing light on the obscurities of a difficult subject; and, as these Lectures embrace the whole range of Buddhism, I have adopted as a frontispiece a portrait of Buddha which exhibits Buddhism in its receptivity and in its readiness to adopt serpent-worship, or any other superstition of the races which it strove to convert. On the other hand, the Wheel, with the Tri-ratna and the Lotus (pp. [521], [522]), is engraved on the title-page as the best representative symbol of early Buddhism. It is taken from a Buddhist sculpture at Amarāvatī engraved for Mr. Fergusson’s ‘Tree and Serpent-worship’ ([p. 237]).

The portrait which faces [page 74] is well worthy of attention as illustrating the connexion[2] between Buddhism and Brāhmanism. It is from a recently-taken photograph of Mr. Gaurī-Ṡaṅkar Uday-Ṡaṅkar, C.S.I.—a well-known and distinguished Brāhman of Bhaunagar—who (with Mr. Percival) administered the State during the minority of the present enlightened Mahā-rāja. Like the Buddha of old, he has renounced the world—that is, he has become a Sannyāsī, and is chiefly engaged in meditation. He has consequently dropped the title C.S.I., and taken the religious title—Svāmī Ṡrī Saććidānanda-Sarasvatī. His son, Mr. Vijay-Ṡaṅkar Gaurī-Ṡaṅkar, kindly sent me the photograph, and with his permission I have had it engraved.

It will be easily understood that, as a great portion of the following pages had to be delivered in the form of Lectures, occasional repetitions and recapitulations were unavoidable, but I trust I shall not be amenable to the charge of repeating anything for the sake of ‘padding.’ I shall, with more justice, be accused of ‘cramming,’ in the sense of attempting to force too much information into a single volume.

January 1, 1889.

POSTSCRIPT.

Since writing the foregoing prefatory remarks, I have observed with much concern that a prevalent error, in regard to Buddhism, is still persistently propagated. It is categorically stated in a newspaper report of a quite recent lecture, that out of the world’s population of about 1500 millions at least 500 millions are Buddhists, and that Buddhism numbers more adherents than any other religion on the surface of the globe.

Almost every European writer on Buddhism, of late years, has assisted in giving currency to this utterly erroneous calculation, and it is high time that an attempt should be made to dissipate a serious misconception.

It is forgotten that mere sympathizers with Buddhism, who occasionally conform to Buddhistic practices, are not true Buddhists. In China the great majority are first of all Confucianists and then either Tāoists or Buddhists or both. In Japan Confucianism and Shintoism co-exist with Buddhism. In some other Buddhist countries a kind of Shamanism is practically dominant. The best authorities (including the Oxford Professor of Chinese, as stated in the Introduction to his excellent work ‘The Travels of Fā-hien’) are of opinion that there are not more than 100 millions of real Buddhists in the world, and that Christianity with its 430 to 450 millions of adherents has now the numerical preponderance over all other religions. I am entirely of the same opinion. I hold that the Buddhism, described in the following pages, contained within itself, from the earliest times, the germs of disease, decay, and death (see [p. 557]), and that its present condition is one of rapidly increasing disintegration and decline.

We must not forget that Buddhism has disappeared from India proper, although it dominates in Ceylon and Burma, and although a few Buddhist travellers find their way back to the land of its origin and sojourn there.

Indeed, if I were called upon to give a rough comparative numerical estimate of the six chief religious systems of the world, I should be inclined, on the whole, to regard Confucianism as constituting, next to Christianity, the most numerically prevalent creed. We have to bear in mind the immense populations, both in China and Japan, whose chief creed is Confucianism.

Professor Legge informs me that Dr. Happer—an American Presbyterian Missionary of about 45 years standing, who has gone carefully into the statistics of Buddhism—reckons only 20 millions of Buddhists in China, and not more than 72½ millions in the whole of Asia. Dr. Happer states that, if the Chinese were required to class themselves as Confucianists or Buddhists or Tāoists, 19/20ths, if not 99/100ths, of them would, in his opinion, claim to be designated as Confucianists.

In all probability his estimate of the number of Buddhists in China is too low, but the Chinese ambassador Liū, with whom Professor Legge once had a conversation on this subject, ridiculed the view that they were as numerous as the Confucianists.

Undeniably, as it seems to me, the next place after Christianity and Confucianism should be given to Brāhmanism and Hindūism, which are not really two systems but practically one; the latter being merely an expansion of the former, modified by contact with Buddhism.

Brāhmanism, as I have elsewhere shown, is nothing but spiritual Pantheism; that is, a belief in the universal diffusion of an impersonal Spirit (called Brăhmăn or Brăhmă)—as the only really existing Essence—and in its manifesting itself in Mind and in countless material forces and forms, including gods, demons, men, and animals, which, after fulfilling their course, must ultimately be re-absorbed into the one impersonal Essence and be again evolved in endless evolution and dissolution.

Hindūism, with its worship of Vishṇu and Ṡiva, is based on this pantheistic doctrine, but the majority of the Hindūs are merely observers of Brāhmanical institutions with their accompanying Hindū caste usages. If, however, we employ the term Hindū in its widest acceptation (omitting only all Islāmized Hindūs) we may safely affirm that the adherents of Hindūism have reached an aggregate of nearly 200 millions. In the opinion of Sir William Wilson Hunter, they are still rapidly increasing, both by excess of births over deaths and by accretions from more backward systems of belief.

Probably Buddhism has a right to the fourth place in the scale of numerical comparison. At any rate the number of Buddhists can scarcely be calculated at less than 100 millions.

In regard to Muhammadanism, this creed should not, I think, be placed higher than fifth in the enumeration. In its purest form it ought to be called Islām, and in that form it is a mere distorted copy of Judaism.

The Empress of India, as is well known, rules over more Muhammadans than any other potentate in the world. Probably the Musalmān population of the whole of India now numbers 55 millions.

As to the number of Muhammadans in the Turkish empire, there are no very trustworthy data to guide us, but the aggregate is believed to be about 14 millions; while Africa can scarcely reckon more than that number, even if Egypt be included.

The sixth system, Tāoism (the system of Lāo-tsze), according to Professor Legge, should rank numerically after both Muhammadanism and Buddhism.

Of course Jainism ([p. 529]) and Zoroastrianism (the religion of the Pārsīs) are too numerically insignificant to occupy places in the above comparison.

It is possible that a careful census might result in a more favourable estimate of the number of Buddhists in the world, than I have here submitted; but at all events it may safely be alleged that, even as a form of popular religion, Buddhism is gradually losing its vitality—gradually loosening its hold on the vast populations once loyal to its rule; nay, that the time is rapidly approaching when its capacity for resistance must give way before the mighty forces which are destined in the end to sweep it from the earth.

M. M.-W.

88 Onslow Gardens, London.

January 15, 1889.

CONTENTS.

PAGE [Preface] v [Postscript on the common error in regard to the comparative prevalence of Buddhism in the world] xiv [List of Illustrations] xxix [Rules for Pronunciation] xxxi [Pronunciation of Buddha, etc. Addenda and Corrigenda] xxxii

[LECTURE I.]
Introductory Observations. Buddhism in its relation to Brāhmanism. Various sects in Brāhmanism. Creed of the ordinary Hindū. Rise of scepticism and infidelity. Materialistic school of thought. Origin of Buddhism and Jainism. Manysidedness of Buddhism. Its complexity. Labours of various scholars. Divisions of the subject. The Buddha, his Law, his Order of Monks. Northern Buddhism 1-17

[LECTURE II.]
The Buddha as a Personal Teacher. The Buddha’s biography. Date of his birth and death. His names, epithets, and titles. Story of the four visions. Birth of the Buddha’s son. The Buddha leaves his home. His life at Rāja-gṛiha. His study of Brāhmanical philosophy. His sexennial fast. His temptation by Māra. He attains perfect enlightenment. The Bodhi-tree. Buddha and Muhammad compared. The Buddha’s proceedings after his enlightenment. His first teaching at Benares. First sermon. Effect of first teaching. His first sixty missionaries. His fire-sermon. His eighty great disciples. His two chief and sixteen leading disciples. His forty-five years of preaching and itineration. His death and last words. Character of the Buddha’s teaching. His method illustrated by an epitome of one of his parables 18-52

[LECTURE III.]
The Dharma or Law and Scriptures of Buddhism. Origin of the Buddhist Law (Dharma). Buddhist scriptures not like the Veda. First council at Rāja-gṛiha. Kāṡyapa chosen as leader. Recitation of the Buddha’s precepts. Second council at Vaiṡālī. Ćandra-gupta. Third council at Patnā. Composition of southern canon. Tri-piṭaka or three collections. Rules of discipline, moral precepts, philosophical precepts. Commentaries. Buddha-ghosha. Aṡoka’s inscriptions. His edicts and proclamations. Fourth council at Jālandhara. Kanishka. The northern canon. The nine Nepālese canonical scriptures. The Tibetan canonical scriptures (Kanjur) 53-70

[LECTURE IV.]
The Saṅgha or Buddhist Order of Monks. Nature of the Buddhist brotherhood. Not a priesthood, not a hierarchy. Names given to the monks. Method of admission to the monkhood. Admission of novices. Three-refuge formula. Admission of full monks. Four resources. Four prohibitions. Offences and penances. Eight practices. The monk’s daily life. His three garments. Confession. Definition of the Saṅgha or community of monks. Order of Nuns. Lay-brothers and lay-sisters. Relation of the laity to the monkhood. Duties of the laity. Later hierarchical Buddhism. Character of monks of the present day in various countries 71-92

[LECTURE V.]
The Philosophical Doctrines of Buddhism. The philosophy of Buddhism founded on that of Brāhmanism. Three ways of salvation in Brāhmanism. The Buddha’s one way of salvation. All life is misery. Indian pessimistic philosophy. Twelve-linked chain of causation. Celebrated Buddhist formula. The Buddha’s attitude towards the Sāṅkhya and Vedānta philosophy of the Brāhmans. The Buddha’s negation of spirit and of a Supreme Being. Brāhmanical theory of metempsychosis. The Buddhist Skandhas. The Buddhist theory of transmigration. Only six forms of existence. The Buddha’s previous births. Examples given of stories of two of his previous births. Destiny of man dependent on his own acts. Re-creative force of acts. Act-force creating worlds. No knowledge of the first act. Cycles of the Universe. Interminable succession of existences like rotation of a wheel. Buddhist Kalpas or ages. Thirty-one abodes of six classes of beings rising one above the other in successive tiers of lower worlds and three sets of heavens 93-122

[LECTURE VI.]
The Morality of Buddhism and its chief aim—Arhatship or Nirvāṇa. Inconsistency of a life of morality in Buddhism. Division of the moral code. First five and then ten chief rules of moral conduct. Positive injunctions. The ten fetters binding a man to existence. Seven jewels of the Law. Six (or ten) transcendent virtues. Examples of moral precepts from the Dharma-pada and other works. Moral merit easily acquired. Aim of Buddhist morality. External and internal morality. Inner condition of heart. Four paths or stages leading to Arhatship or moral perfection. Three grades of Arhats. Series of Buddhas. Gautama the fourth Buddha of the present age, and last of twenty-five Buddhas. The future Buddha. Explanation of Nirvāṇa and Pari-nirvāṇa as the true aim of Buddhist morality. Buddhist and Christian morality contrasted 123-146

[LECTURE VII.]
Changes in Buddhism and its disappearance from India. Tendency of all religious movements to deterioration and disintegration. The corruptions of Buddhism are the result of its own fundamental doctrines. Re-statement of Buddha’s early teaching. Recoil to the opposite extreme. Sects and divisions in Buddhism. The first four principal sects, followed by eighteen, thirty-two, and ninety-six. Mahā-yāna or Great Method (vehicle). Hīna-yāna or Little Method. The Chinese Buddhist travellers, Fā-hien and Hiouen Thsang. Reasons for the disappearance of Buddhism from India. Gradual amalgamation with surrounding systems. Interaction between Buddhism, Vaishṇavism, and Ṡaivism. Ultimate merging of Buddhism in Brāhmanism and Hindūism 147-171

[LECTURE VIII.]
Rise of Theistic and Polytheistic Buddhism. Development of the Mahā-yāna or Great Method. Gradual deification of saints, sages, and great men. Tendency to group in triads. First triad of the Buddha, the Law, and the Order. Buddhist triad no trinity. The Buddha to be succeeded by Maitreya. Maitreya’s heaven longed for. Constitution and gradations of the Buddhist brotherhood. Headship and government of the Buddhist monasteries. The first Arhats. Progress of the Mahā-yāna doctrine. The first Bodhi-sattva Maitreya associated with numerous other Bodhi-sattvas. Deification of Maitreya and elevation of Gautama’s great pupils to Bodhi-sattvaship. Partial deification of great teachers. Nāgārjuna, Gorakh-nāth. Barlaam and Josaphat 172-194

[LECTURE IX.]
Theistic and Polytheistic Buddhism. Second Buddhist triad, Mañju-ṡrī, Avalokiteṡvara or Padma-pāṇi and Vajra-pāṇi. Description of each. Theory of five human Buddhas, five Dhyāni-Buddhas ‘of meditation,’ and five Dhyāni-Bodhi-sattvas. Five triads formed by grouping together one from each. Theory of Ādi-Buddha. Worship of the Dhyāni-Buddha Amitābha. Tiers of heavens connected with the four Dhyānas or stages of meditation. Account of the later Buddhist theory of lower worlds and three groups of heavens. Synopsis of the twenty-six heavens and their inhabitants. Hindū gods and demons adopted by Buddhism. Hindū and Buddhist mythology 195-222

[LECTURE X.]
Mystical Buddhism in its connexion with the Yoga Philosophy. Growth of esoteric and mystical Buddhism. Dhyāni-Buddhas. Yoga philosophy. Svāmī Dayānanda-Sarasvatī. Twofold Yoga system. Bodily tortures of Yogīs. Fasting. Complete absorption in thought. Progressive stages of meditation. Samādhi. Six transcendent faculties. The Buddha no spiritualist. Nature of Buddha’s enlightenment. Attainment of miraculous powers. Development of Buddha’s early doctrine. Eight requisites of Yoga. Six-syllabled sentence. Mystical syllables. Cramping of limbs. Suppression and imprisonment of breath. Suspended animation. Self-concentration. Eight supernatural powers. Three bodies of every Buddha. Ethereal souls and gross bodies. Buddhist Mahātmas. Astral bodies. Modern spiritualism. Modern esoteric Buddhism and Asiatic occultism 223-252

[LECTURE XI.]
Hierarchical Buddhism, especially as developed in Tibet and Mongolia. The Saṅgha. Development of Hierarchical gradations in Ceylon and in Burma. Tibetan Buddhism. Northern Buddhism connected with Shamanism. Lāmism and the Lāmistic Hierarchy. Gradations of monkhood. Avatāra Lāmas. Vagabond Lāmas. Female Hierarchy. Two Lāmistic sects. Explanation of Avatāra theory. History of Tibet. Early history of Tibetan Buddhism. Thumi Sambhoṭa’s invention of the Tibetan alphabet. Indian Buddhists sent for to Tibet. Tibetan canon. Tibetan kings. Founding of monasteries. Buddhism adopted in Mongolia. Hierarchical Buddhism in Mongolia. Invention of Mongolian alphabet. Birth of the Buddhist reformer Tsong Khapa. The Red and Yellow Cap schools. Monasteries of Galdan, Brepung, and Sera. Character of Tsong Khapa’s reformation. Resemblance of the Roman Catholic and Lāmistic systems. Death and canonization of Tsong Khapa. Development of the Avatāra theory. The two Grand Lāmas, Dalai Lāma and Panchen Lāma. Election of Dalai Lāma. Election of the Grand Lāmas of Mongolia. List of Dalai Lāmas. Discovery of present Dalai Lāma. The Lāma or Khanpo of Galdan, of Kurun or Kuren, of Kuku khotun. Lāmism in Ladāk, Tangut, Nepāl, Bhutān, Sikkim. In China and Japan. Divisions in Japanese Buddhism. Buddhism in Russian territory 253-302

[LECTURE XII.]
Ceremonial and Ritualistic Buddhism. Opposition of early Buddhism to sacerdotalism and ceremonialism. Reaction. Religious superstition in Tibet and Mongolia. Accounts by Koeppen, Schlagintweit, Markham, Huc, Sarat Chandra Dās. Admission-ceremony of a novice in Burma and Ceylon. Boy-pupils. Daily life in Burmese monasteries, according to Shway Yoe. Observances during Vassa. Pirit ceremony. Mahā-baṇa Pirit. Admission-ceremonies in Tibet and Mongolia. Dress and equipment of a Lāmistic monk. Dorje. Prayer-bell. Use of Tibetan language in the Ritual. A. Csoma de Körös’ life and labours. Form and character of the Lāmistic Ritual. Huc’s description of a particular Ritual. Holy water, consecrated grain, tea-drinking. Ceremonies in Sikkim and Ladāk. Ceremony at Sarat Chandra Dās’ presentation to the Dalai Lāma. Ceremony at translation of a chief Lāma’s soul. Other ceremonies. Uposatha and fast-days. Circumambulation. Comparison with Roman Catholic Ritual 303-339

[LECTURE XIII.]
Festivals, Domestic Rites, and Formularies of Prayers. New Year’s Festivals in Burma and Tibet. Festivals of Buddha’s birth and death. Festival of lamps. Local Festivals. Chase of the spirit-kings. Religious masquerades and dances. Religious dramas in Burma and Tibet. Weapons used against evil spirits. Dorje. Phurbu. Tattooing in Burma. Domestic rites and usages. Birth-ceremonies in Ceylon and Burma. Name-giving ceremonies. Horoscopes. Baptism in Tibet and Mongolia. Amulets. Marriage-ceremonies. Freedom of women in Buddhist countries. Usages in sickness. Merit gained by saving animal-life. Usages at death. Cremation. Funeral-ceremonies in Sikkim, Japan, Ceylon, Burma, Tibet, and Mongolia. Exposure of corpses in Tibet and Mongolia. Prayer-formularies. Monlam. Maṇi-padme or ‘jewel-lotus’ formulary. Prayer-wheels, praying-cylinders and method of using them. Formularies on rocks, etc. Man Dangs. Prayer-flags. Mystic formularies. Rosaries. ḍamaru. Manual of daily prayers 340-386

[LECTURE XIV.]
Sacred Places. The sacred land of Buddhism. Kapila-vastu, the Buddha’s birth-place. The arrow-fountain. Buddha-Gayā. Ancient Temple. Sacred tree. Restoration of Temple. Votive Stūpas. Mixture of Buddhism and Hindūism. Hiouen Thsang’s description of Buddha-Gayā. Sārnāth near Benares. Ruined Stūpa. Sculpture illustrating four events in the Buddha’s career. Rāja-gṛiha. Scene of incidents in the Buddha’s life. Deva-datta’s plots. Satta-paṇṇi cave. Ṡrāvastī. Residence in Jeta-vana monastery. Sandal-wood image. Miracles. Vaiṡālī, place of second council. Description by Hiouen Thsang and Fā-hien. Kauṡāmbī. Great monolith. Nālanda monastery. Hiouen Thsang’s description. Saṅkāṡya, place of Buddha’s descent from heaven. Account of the triple ladder. Sāketa or Ayodhyā. Miraculous tree. Kanyā-kubja. Ṡilāditya. Pāṭali-putra. Aṡoka’s palace. Founding of hospitals. First Stūpa. Kesarīya. Ruined mound. Stūpa. Kuṡi-nagara, the place of the Buddha’s death and Pari-nirvāṇa 387-425

[LECTURE XV.]
Monasteries and Temples. Five kinds of dwellings permissible for monks. Institution of monasteries. Cave-monasteries. Monasteries in Ceylon, Burma, and British Sikkim. Monastery at Kīlang in Lahūl; at Kunbum; at Kuku khotun; at Kuren; at Lhāssa. Palace-monastery of Potala. Residence of Dalai Lāma, and Mr. Manning’s interview with him. Monasteries of Lā brang, Ramoćhe, Moru, Gar Ma Khian. Three mother-monasteries of the Yellow Sect, Galdan, Sera, and Dapung. Tashi Lunpo and the Tashi Lāma. Mr. Bogle’s interview with the Tashi Lāma. Turner’s interview with the Grand Lāma of the Terpaling monastery. Sarat Chandra Dās’ description of the Tashi Lunpo monastery. Monasteries of the Red Sect, Sam ye and Sakya. Monastery libraries. Temples. Cave-temples or Ćaityas. The Elorā Ćaitya. The Kārle Ćaitya. Village temples. Temples in Ceylon. Temple at Kelani. Tooth-temple at Kandy. Burmese temples. Rangoon pagoda. Temples in Sikkim, Mongolia, and Tibet. Great temple at Lhāssa; at Ramoćhe; at Tashi Lunpo 426-464

[LECTURE XVI.]
Images and Idols. Introduction of idolatry into India. Ancient image of Buddha. Gradual growth of objective Buddhism. Development of image-worship. Self-produced images. Hiouen Thsang’s account of the sandal-wood image. Form, character, and general characteristics of images. Outgrowth of Buddha’s skull. Nimbus. Size, height, and different attitudes of Buddha’s images. ‘Meditative,’ ‘Witness,’ ‘Serpent-canopied,’ ‘Argumentative’ or ‘Teaching,’ ‘Preaching,’ ‘Benedictive,’ ‘Mendicant,’ and ‘Recumbent’ Attitudes. Representations of Buddha’s birth. Images of other Buddhas and Bodhi-sattvas. Images of Amitābha, of Maitreya, of Mañju-ṡrī, of Avalokiteṡvara, of Kwan-yin and Vajra-pāṇi. Images of other Bodhi-sattvas, gods and goddesses 465-492

[LECTURE XVII.]
Sacred Objects. Sung-Yun’s description of objects of worship. Three classes of Buddhist sacred objects 493-495 Relics. Hindū ideas of impurity connected with death. Hindū and Buddhist methods of honouring ancestors compared. Worship of the Buddha’s relics. The Buddha’s hair and nails. Eight portions of his relics. Adventures of one of the Buddha’s teeth. Tooth-temple at Kandy. Celestial light emitted by relics. Exhibition of relics. Form and character of Buddhist relic-receptacles. Ćaityas, Stūpas, Dāgabas, and their development into elaborate structures. Votive Stūpas 495-506 Worship of foot-prints. Probable origin of the worship of foot-prints. Alleged foot-prints of Christ. Vishṇu-pad at Gayā. Jaina pilgrims at Mount Pārasnāth. Adam’s Peak. Foot-prints in various countries. Mr. Alabaster’s description of the foot-print in Siam. Marks on the soles of the Buddha’s feet 506-514 Sacred trees. General prevalence of tree-worship. Belief that spirits inhabit trees. Offerings hung on trees. Trees of the seven principal Buddhas. The Aṡvattha or Pippala is of all trees the most revered. Other sacred trees. The Kalpa-tree. Wishing-tree. Kabīr Var tree 514-520 Sacred symbols. The Tri-ratna symbol. The Ćakra or Wheel symbol. The Lotus-flower. The Svastika symbol. The Throne symbol. The Umbrella. The Ṡaṅkha or Conch-shell 520-523 Sacred animals. Worship of animals due to doctrine of metempsychosis. Elephants. Deer. Pigs. Fish 524-526 Miscellaneous objects. Bells. Seven precious substances. Seven treasures belonging to every universal monarch 526-528

[Supplementary Remarks on the Connexion of Buddhism with Jainism.] Difference between the Buddhist and Jaina methods of obtaining liberation. Nigaṇṭhas. Two Jaina sects. Dig-ambaras and Ṡvetāmbaras. The three chief points of difference between them. Their sacred books. Characteristics of both sects as distinguished from Buddhism. Belief in existence of souls. Moral code. Three-jewels. Five moral prohibitions. Prayer-formula. Temples erected for acquisition of merit 529-536

[LECTURE XVIII.]
Buddhism contrasted with Christianity. True Buddhism is no religion. Definition of the word ‘religion.’ Four characteristics constitute a religion. Gautama’s claim to be called ‘the Light of Asia’ examined. The Buddha’s and Christ’s first call to their disciples. The Christian’s reverence for the body contrasted with the Buddhist’s contempt for the body. Doctrine of storing up merit illustrated, and shown to be common to Buddhism, Brāhmanism, Hindūism, Confucianism, Zoroastrianism, and Muhammadanism. Doctrine of Karma or Act-force. Buddhist and Christian doctrine of deliverance compared. Buddhist and Christian moral precepts compared. The many benefits conferred upon Asia by Buddhism admitted. Religious feelings among Buddhists. Buddhist toleration of other religions. Historic life of the Christ contrasted with legendary biography of the Buddha. Christ God-sent. The Buddha self-sent. Miracles recorded in the Bible and in the Tri-piṭaka contrasted. Buddhist and Christian self-sacrifice compared. Character and style of the Buddhist Tri-piṭaka contrasted with those of the Christian Bible. Various Buddhist and Christian doctrines contrasted. Which doctrines are to be preferred by rational and thoughtful men in the nineteenth century? 537-563

OBSERVE.

The prevalent error in regard to the number of Buddhists at present existing in the world is pointed out in the Postscript at the end of the Preface ([p. xiv]).

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
WITH DESCRIPTIONS.

PAGE 1. Brass Image of Gautama Buddha obtained by the Author from Ceylon [Frontispiece] He is seated on the Mućalinda Serpent (see [p. 480]), in an attitude of profound meditation, with eyes half closed, and five rays of light emerging from the crown of his head. 2. Vignette, representing the Ćakra or ‘Wheel’ Symbol with Tri-ratna symbols in the outer circle and Lotus symbol in the centre (see pp. 521-522) [On Title-page] Copied from the engraving of a Wheel supported on a column at Amarāvatī (date about 250 A.D.) in Mr. Fergusson’s ‘Tree and Serpent Worship.’ 3. Map illustrative of the Sacred Land of Buddhism [To face 21] 4. Portrait of Mr. Gaurī-Ṡaṅkar Uday-Ṡaṅkar, C.S.I., now Svāmī Ṡrī Saććidānanda-Sarasvatī [To face 74] See the explanation at [p. xiii]. of the Preface. 5. Magical Dorje or thunderbolt used by Northern Buddhists [323] 6. Prayer-bell used in worship [324] 7. Magical weapon called Phur-pa, for defence against evil spirits [352] Used by Northern Buddhists. Brought from Dārjīling in 1884. 8. Amulet worn by a Tibetan woman at Dārjīling in 1884 [358] Purchased at Dārjīling and given to the Author by Mr. Sarat Chandra Dās. 9. Hand Prayer-wheel brought by the Author from Dārjīling [375] 10. ḍamaru, or sacred drum, used by vagabond Buddhist monks [385] 11. Ancient Buddhist temple at Buddha-Gayā, as it appeared in 1880 [To face 391] Erected about the middle of the 2nd century on the ruins of Aṡoka’s temple, at the spot where Gautama attained Buddhahood. From a photograph by Mr. Beglar enlarged by Mr. G. W. Austen. 12. The same temple at Buddha-Gayā, as restored in 1884 [To face 393] From a photograph by Mr. Beglar enlarged by Mr. G. W. Austen. 13. Bronze model dug up at Moulmein, representing triple ladder by which Buddha is supposed to have descended from heaven (from original in South Kensington Museum) [418] 14. Remains of a colossal statue of Buddha [To face 467] Probably in ‘argumentative’ or ‘teaching’ attitude (see [p. 481]). It was found by General Sir A. Cunningham close to the south side of the Buddha-Gayā temple. The date (Samvat 64 = A.D. 142) is inscribed on the pedestal. 15. Terra-cotta image of Buddha dug up at Buddha-Gayā [477] Half the size of the original sculpture. Buddha is in the attitude of meditation under the tree, with a halo or aureola round his head. Probable date, not earlier than 9th century. 16. Sculpture found by General Sir A. Cunningham at Sārnāth, near Benares [To face 477] Illustrative of the four principal events in Gautama Buddha’s life—namely, his birth, his attainment of Buddhahood under the tree, his teaching at Benares, and his passing away in complete Nirvāṇa (see [p. 387]). Date about 400 A.D. 17. Sculpture of Buddha in ‘Witness-attitude’ on attaining Buddhahood, under the tree (an umbrella is above) [478] Found at Buddha-Gayā. Date about the 9th century. The original is remarkable for its smiling features and for the circular mark on the forehead. The drawing is from a photograph belonging to Sir A. Cunningham. 18. Sculpture of Buddha in ‘Witness-attitude’ on attaining Buddhahood under the tree [480] From a niche high up on the western side of the Buddha-Gayā temple. It has the ‘Ye dharmā’ formula ([p. 104]) inscribed on each side. It is half the size of the original sculpture. Probable date about the 11th century. 19. Sculpture found at Buddha-Gayā representing the earliest Triad, viz. Buddha, Dharma, and Saṅgha [485] The drawing is from a photograph belonging to Sir A. Cunningham, described at [p. 484]. 20. Votive Stūpa found at Buddha-Gayā [To face 505] Probable date about 9th or 10th century of our era. 21. Clay model of a small votive Stūpa [506] Selected from several which the author saw in the act of being made by a monk outside a monastery in British Sikkim in 1884. This model probably contains the ‘Ye dharmā’ or some other formula on a seal inside. The engraving is exactly the size of the original.

RULES FOR PRONUNCIATION.

VOWELS.

A, a, pronounced as in rural, or the last a in America; Ā, ā, as in tar, father; I, i, as in fill; Ī, ī, as in police; U, u, as in bull; Ū, ū, as in rude; Ṛi, ṛi, as in merrily; Ṛī, ṛī, as in marine; E, e, as in prey; Ai, ai, as in aisle; O, o, as in go; Au, au, as in Haus (pronounced as in German).

CONSONANTS.

K, k, pronounced as in kill, seek; Kh, kh, as in inkhorn; G, g, as in gun, dog; Gh, gh, as in loghut; Ṅ, ṅ, as ng in sing (siṅ).

Ć, ć, as in dolce (in music), = English ch in church, lurch (lurć); Ćh, ćh, as in churchhill (ćurćhill); J, j, as in jet; Jh, jh, as in hedgehog (hejhog); Ñ, ñ, as in singe (siñj).

Ṭ, ṭ, as in true (ṭru); Ṭh, ṭh, as in anthill (anṭhill); ḍ, ḍ, as in drum (ḍrum); ḍh, ḍh, as in redhaired (reḍhaired); Ṇ, ṇ, as in none (ṇuṇ).

T, t, as in water (as pronounced in Ireland); Th, th, as nut-hook (but more dental); D, d, as in dice (more like th in this); Dh, dh, as in adhere (more dental); N, n, as in not, in.

P, p, as in put, sip; Ph, ph, as in uphill; B, b, as in bear, rub; Bh, bh, as in abhor; M, m, as in map, jam.

Y, y, as in yet; R, r, as in red, year; L, l, as in lie; V, v, as in vie (but like w after consonants, as in twice).

Ṡ, ṡ, as in sure, session; Sh, sh, as in shun, hush; S, s, as in sir, hiss. H, h, as in hit.

In Tibetan the vowels, including even e and o, have generally the short sound, but accentuated vowels are comparatively long. I have marked such words as Lāma with a long mark to denote this, but Koeppen and Jäschke write Lama. Jäschke says that the Tibetan alphabet was adapted from the Lañćha form of the Indian letters by Thumi (Thonmi) Sambhoṭa (see [p. 270]) about the year 632.

OBSERVE.

It is common to hear English-speakers mispronounce the words Buddha and Buddhism. But any one who studies the rules on the preceding page will see that the u in Buddha, must not be pronounced like the u in the English word ‘bud,’ but like the u in bull.

Indeed, for the sake of the general reader, it might be better to write Booddha and Booddhism, provided the oo be pronounced as in the words ‘wood,’ ‘good.’

ADDENDA and CORRIGENDA.

It is feared that the long-mark over the letter A may have been omitted in one or two cases or may have broken off in printing.

[In this electronic edition, corrections were incorporated in the text; additions were inserted as new footnotes and tagged—Corr.]

BUDDHISM.

LECTURE I.
Introductory. Buddhism in relation to Brāhmanism.

In my recent work[3] on Brāhmanism I have traced the progress of Indian religious thought through three successive stages—called by me Vedism, Brāhmanism, and Hindūism—the last including the three subdivisions of Ṡaivism, Vaishṇavism, and Ṡāktism. Furthermore I have attempted to prove that these systems are not really separated by sharp lines, but that each almost imperceptibly shades off into the other.

I have striven also to show that a true Hindū of the orthodox school is able quite conscientiously to accept all these developments of religious belief. He holds that they have their authoritative exponents in the successive bibles of the Hindū religion, namely, (1) the four Vedas—Ṛig-veda, Yajur-veda, Sāma-veda, Atharva-veda—and the Brāhmaṇas; (2) the Upanishads; (3) the Law-books—especially that of Manu; (4) the Bhakti-ṡāstras, including the Rāmāyaṇa, the Mahā-bhārata, the Purāṇas—especially the Bhāgavata-purāṇa—and the Bhagavad-gītā; (5) the Tantras.

The chief works under these five heads represent the principal periods of religious development through which the Hindū mind has passed.

Thus, in the first place, the hymns of the Vedas and the ritualism of the Brāhmaṇas represent physiolatry or the worship of the personified forces of nature—a form of religion which ultimately became saturated with sacrificial ideas and with ceremonialism and asceticism. Secondly, the Upanishads represent the pantheistic conceptions which terminated in philosophical Brāhmanism. Thirdly, the Law-books represent caste-rules and domestic usages. Fourthly, the Rāmāyaṇa, Mahā-bhārata, and Purāṇas represent the principle of personal devotion to the personal gods, Ṡiva, Vishṇu, and their manifestations; and fifthly, the Tantras represent the perversion of the principle of love to polluting and degrading practices disguised under the name of religious rites. Of these five phases of the Hindū religion probably the first three only prevailed when Buddhism arose; but I shall try to make clear hereafter that Buddhism, as it developed, accommodated itself to the fourth and even ultimately to the fifth phase, admitting the Hindū gods into its own creed, while Hindūism also received ideas from Buddhism.

At any rate it is clear that the so-called orthodox Brāhman admits all five series of works as progressive exponents of the Hindū system—although he scarcely likes to confess openly to any adoption of the fifth. Hence his opinions are of necessity Protean and multiform.

The root ideas of his creed are of course Pantheistic, in the sense of being grounded on the identification of the whole external world—which he believes to be a mere illusory appearance—with one eternal, impersonal, spiritual Essence; but his religion is capable of presenting so many phases, according to the stand-point from which it is viewed, that its pantheism appears to be continually sliding into forms of monotheism and polytheism, and even into the lowest types of animism and fetishism.

We must not, moreover, forget—as I have pointed out in my recent work—that a large body of the Hindūs are unorthodox in respect of their interpretation of the leading doctrine of true Brāhmanism.

Such unorthodox persons may be described as sectarians or dissenters. That is to say, they dissent from the orthodox pantheistic doctrine that all gods and men, all divine and human souls, and all material appearances are mere illusory manifestations of one impersonal spiritual Entity—called Ātman or Purusha or Brahman—and they believe in one supreme personal god—either Ṡiva or Vishṇu or Kṛishṇa or Rāma—who is not liable (as orthodox Brāhmans say he is) to lose his personality by subjection to the universal law of dissolution and re-absorption into the one eternal impersonal Essence, but exists in a heaven of his own, to the bliss of which his worshippers are admitted[4].

And it must be borne in mind that these sectarians are very far from resting their belief on the Vedas, the Brāhmaṇas, and Upanishads.

Their creed is based entirely on the Bhakti-ṡāstras—that is, on the Rāmāyaṇa, Mahā-bhārata, and Purāṇas (especially on the Bhāgavata-purāṇa) and the Bhagavad-gītā, to the exclusion of the other scriptures of Hindūism.

Then again it must always be borne in mind that the terms ‘orthodox’ and ‘unorthodox’ have really little or no application to the great majority of the inhabitants of India, who in truth are wholly innocent of any theological opinions at all, and are far too apathetic to trouble themselves about any form of religion other than that which has belonged for centuries to their families and to the localities in which they live, and far too ignorant and dull of intellect to be capable of inquiring for themselves whether that religion is likely to be true or false.

To classify the masses under any one definite denomination, either as Pantheists or Polytheists or Monotheists, or as simple idol-worshippers, or fetish-worshippers, would be wholly misleading.

Their faculties are so enfeebled by the debilitating effect of early marriages, and so deadened by the drudgery of daily toil and the dire necessity of keeping body and soul together, that they can scarcely be said to be capable of holding any definite theological creed at all.

It would be nearer the truth to say that the religion of an ordinary Hindū consists in observing caste-customs, local usages, and family observances, in holding what may be called the Folk-legends of his neighbourhood, in propitiating evil spirits and in worshipping the image and superscription of the Empress of India, impressed on the current coin of the country.

As a rule such a man gives himself no uneasiness whatever about his prospects of happiness or misery in the world to come.

He is quite content to commit his interests in a future life to the care and custody of the Brāhmans; while, if he thinks about the nature of a Supreme Being at all, he assumes His benevolence and expects His good will as a matter of course.

What he really troubles himself about is the necessity for securing the present favour of the inhabitants of the unseen world, supposed to occupy the atmosphere everywhere around him—of the good and evil demons and spirits of the soil—generally represented by rude and grotesque images, and artfully identified by village priests and Brāhmans with alleged forms of Vishṇu or Ṡiva.

It follows that the mind of the ordinary Hindū, though indifferent about all definite dogmatic religion, is steeped in the kind of religiousness best expressed by the word δεισιδαιμονία. He lives in perpetual dread of invisible beings who are thought to be exerting their mysterious influences above, below, around, in the immediate vicinity of his own dwelling. The very winds which sweep across his homestead are believed to swarm with spirits, who unless duly propitiated will blight the produce of his fields, or bring down upon him injury, disease, and death.

Then again, besides the orthodox and besides the sectarian Hindū and besides the great demon-worshipping, idolatrous, and superstitious majority, another class of the Indian community must also be taken into account—the class of rationalists and free-thinkers. These have been common in India from the earliest times.

First came a class of conscientious doubters, who strove to solve the riddle of life by microscopic self-introspection and sincere searchings after truth, and these did their best not to break with the Veda, Vedic revelation, and the authority of the Brāhmans.

Earnestly and reverently such men applied themselves to the difficult task of trying to answer such questions as—What am I? Whence have I come? Whither am I going? How can I explain my consciousness of personal existence? Have I an immaterial spirit distinct from, and independent of, my material frame? Of what nature is the world in which I find myself? Did an all-powerful Being create it out of nothing? or did it evolve itself out of an eternal protoplasmic germ? or did it come together by the combination of eternal atoms? or is it a mere illusion? If created by a Being of infinite wisdom and love, how can I account for the co-existence in it of good and evil, happiness and misery? Has the Creator form, or is He formless? Has He qualities and affections, or has He none?

It was in the effort to solve such insoluble enigmas by their own unaided intuitions and in a manner not too subversive of traditional dogma, that the systems of philosophy founded on the Upanishads originated.

These have been described in my book on Brāhmanism. They were gradually excogitated by independent thinkers, who claimed to be Brāhmans or twice-born men, and nominally accepted the Veda with its Brāhmaṇas, while they covertly attacked it, or at least abstained from denouncing it as absolutely untrue. Such men tacitly submitted to sacerdotal authority, though they really propounded a way of salvation based entirely on self-evolved knowledge, and quite independent of all Vedic sacrifices and sacrificing priests. The most noteworthy and orthodox of the systems propounded by them was the Vedānta[5], which, as I have shown, was simply spiritual Pantheism, and asserted that the one Spirit was the only real Being in the Universe.

But the origin of the more unorthodox systems, which denied the authority of both the Veda and the Brāhmans, must also be traced to the influence of the Upanishads. For it is undeniable that a spirit of atheistic infidelity grew up in India almost pari passu with dogmatic Brāhmanism, and has always been prevalent there. In fact it would be easy to show that periodical outbursts of unbelief and agnosticism have taken place in India very much in the same way as in Europe; but the tendency to run into extremes has always been greater on Indian soil and beneath the glow and glamour of Eastern skies. On the one side, a far more unthinking respect than in any other country has been paid to the authority of priests, who have declared their supernatural revelation to be the very breath of God, sacrificial rites to be the sole instruments of salvation, and themselves the sole mediators between earth and heaven; on the other, far greater latitude than in any other country has been conceded to infidels and atheists who have poured contempt on all sacerdotal dogmas, have denied all supernatural revelation, have made no secret of their disbelief in a personal God, and have maintained that even if a Supreme Being and a spiritual world exist they are unknowable by man and beyond the cognizance of his faculties.

We learn indeed from certain passages of the Veda (Ṛig-veda II. 12. 5; VIII. 100. 3, 4) that even in the Vedic age some denied the existence of the god Indra.

We know, too, that Yāska, the well-known Vedic commentator, who is believed to have lived before the grammarian Pāṇini (probably in the fourth century B.C.), found himself obliged to refute the sceptical arguments of Kautsa and others who pronounced the Veda a tissue of nonsense (Nirukta I. 15, 16).

Again, Manu—whose law-book, according to Dr. Bühler, was composed between the second century B.C. and the second A.D., and, in my opinion, possibly earlier—has the following remark directed against sceptics:—

‘The twice-born man who depending on rationalistic treatises (hetu-ṡāstra) contemns the two roots of law (ṡruti and smṛiti), is to be excommunicated (vahish-kāryaḥ) by the righteous as an atheist (nāstika) and despiser of the Veda’ (Manu II. 11).

Furthermore, the Mahā-bhārata, a poem which contains many ancient legends quite as ancient as those of early Buddhism, relates (Ṡānti-parvan 1410, etc.) the story of the infidel Ćārvāka, who in the disguise of a mendicant Brāhman uttered sentiments dangerously heretical.

This Ćārvāka was the supposed founder of a materialistic school of thought called Lokāyata. Rejecting all instruments of knowledge (pramāṇa) except perception by the senses (pratyaksha), he affirmed that the soul did not exist separately from the body, and that all the phenomena of the world were spontaneously produced.

The following abbreviation of a passage in the Sarva-darṡana-saṅgraha[6] will give some idea of this school’s infidel doctrines, the very name of which (Lokāyata, ‘generally current in the world’) is an evidence of the popularity they enjoyed:—

No heaven exists, no final liberation,

No soul, no other world, no rites of caste,

No recompense for acts; let life be spent,

In merriment[7]; let a man borrow money

And live at ease and feast on melted butter.

How can this body when reduced to dust

Revisit earth? and if a ghost can pass

To other worlds, why does not strong affection

For those he leaves behind attract him back?

Oblations, funeral rites, and sacrifices

Are a mere means of livelihood devised

By sacerdotal cunning—nothing more.

The three composers of the triple Veda

Were rogues, or evil spirits, or buffoons.

The recitation of mysterious words

And jabber of the priests is simple nonsense.

Then again, the continued prevalence of sceptical opinions may be shown by extracts from other portions of the later literature. For example, in the Rāmāyaṇa (II. 108) the infidel Brāhman Jāvāli gives utterance to similar sentiments thus:—

‘The books composed by theologians, in which men are enjoined to worship, give gifts, offer sacrifice, practise austerities, abandon the world, are mere artifices to draw forth donations. Make up your mind that no one exists hereafter. Have regard only to what is visible and perceptible by the senses (pratyaksham). Cast everything beyond this behind your back.’

Furthermore, in a parallel passage from the Vishṇu-purāṇa, it is declared that the great Deceiver, practising illusion, beguiled other demon-like beings to embrace many sorts of heresy; some reviling the Vedas, others the gods, others the ceremonial of sacrifice, and others the Brāhmans[8]. These were called Nāstikas.

Such extracts prove that the worst forms of scepticism prevailed in both early and mediæval times. But all phases and varieties of heretical thought were not equally offensive, and it would certainly be unfair and misleading to place Buddhism and Jainism on the same level with the reckless Pyrrhonism of the Ćārvākas who had no code of morality.

And indeed it was for this very reason, that when Buddhism and Jainism began to make their presence felt in the fifth century B.C. they became far more formidable than any other phase of scepticism.

Whether, however, Buddhism or Jainism be entitled to chronological precedence is still an open question, about which opinions may reasonably differ. Some hold that they were always quite distinct from each other, and were the products of inquiry originated by two independent thinkers, and many scholars now consider that the weight of evidence is in favour of Jainism being a little antecedent to Buddhism. Possibly the two systems resulted from the splitting up of one sect into two divisions, just as the two Brāhma-Samājes of Calcutta are the product of the Ādi-Samāj.

One point at least is certain, that notwithstanding much community of thought between Buddhism and Jainism, Buddhism ended in gaining for itself by far the more important position of the two. For although Jainism has shown more tenacity of life in India, and has lingered on there till the present day, it never gained any hold on the masses of the population, whereas its rival, Buddhism, radiating from a central point in Hindūstān, spread itself first over the whole of India and then over nearly all Eastern Asia, and has played—as even its most hostile critics must admit—an important rôle in the history of the world.

To Buddhism, therefore, we have now to direct our attention, and at the very threshold of our inquiries we are confronted with this difficulty, that its great popularity and its wide diffusion among many peoples have made it most difficult to answer the question:—What is Buddhism? If it were possible to reply to the inquiry in one word, one might perhaps say that true Buddhism, theoretically stated, is Humanitarianism, meaning by that term something very like the gospel of humanity preached by the Positivist, whose doctrine is the elevation of man through man—that is, through human intellect, human intuitions, human teaching, human experiences, and accumulated human efforts—to the highest ideal of perfection; and yet something very different. For the Buddhist ideal differs toto cælo from the Positivist’s, and consists in the renunciation of all personal existence, even to the extinction of humanity itself. The Buddhist’s perfection is destruction ([p. 123]).

But such a reply would have only reference to the truest and earliest form of Buddhism. It would cover a very minute portion of the vast area of a subject which, as it grew, became multiform, multilateral, and almost infinite in its ramifications.

Innumerable writers, indeed, during the past thirty years have been attracted by the great interest of the inquiry, and have vied with each other in their efforts to give a satisfactory account of a system whose developments have varied in every country; while lecturers, essayists, and the authors of magazine articles are constantly adding their contributions to the mass of floating ideas, and too often propagate crude and erroneous conceptions on a subject, the depths of which they have never thoroughly fathomed.

It is to be hoped that the annexation of Upper Burma, while giving an impulse to Pāli and Buddhistic studies, may help to throw light on some obscure points.

Certainly Buddhism continues to be little understood by the great majority of educated persons. Nor can any misunderstanding on such a subject be matter of surprise, when writers of high character colour their descriptions of it from an examination of one part of the system only, without due regard to its other phases, and in this way either exalt it to a far higher position than it deserves, or depreciate it unfairly.

And Buddhism is a subject which must continue for a long time to present the student with a boundless field of investigation. No one can bring a proper capacity of mind to such a study, much less write about it clearly, who has not studied the original documents both in Pāli and in Sanskṛit, after a long course of preparation in the study of Vedism, Brāhmanism, and Hindūism. It is a system which resembles these other forms of Indian religious thought in the great variety of its aspects. Starting from a very simple proposition, which can only be described as an exaggerated truism—the truism, I mean, that all life involves sorrow, and that all sorrow results from indulging desires which ought to be suppressed—it has branched out into a vast number of complicated and self-contradictory propositions and allegations. Its teaching has become both negative and positive, agnostic and gnostic. It passes from apparent atheism and materialism to theism, polytheism, and spiritualism. It is under one aspect mere pessimism; under another pure philanthropy; under another monastic communism; under another high morality; under another a variety of materialistic philosophy; under another simple demonology; under another a mere farrago of superstitions, including necromancy, witchcraft, idolatry, and fetishism. In some form or other it may be held with almost any religion, and embraces something from almost every creed. It is founded on philosophical Brāhmanism, has much in common with Sāṅkhya and Vedānta ideas, is closely connected with Vaishṇavism, and in some of its phases with both Ṡaivism and Ṡāktism, and yet is, properly speaking, opposed to every one of these systems. It has in its moral code much common ground with Christianity, and in its mediæval and modern developments presents examples of forms, ceremonies, litanies, monastic communities, and hierarchical organizations, scarcely distinguishable from those of Roman Catholicism; and yet a greater contrast than that presented by the essential doctrines of Buddhism and of Christianity can scarcely be imagined. Strangest of all, Buddhism—with no God higher than the perfect man—has no pretensions to be called a religion in the true sense of the word, and is wholly destitute of the vivifying forces necessary to give vitality to the dry bones of its own morality; and yet it once existed as a real power over at least a third of the human race, and even at the present moment claims a vast number of adherents in Asia, and not a few sympathisers in Europe and America.

Evidently, then, any Orientalist who undertakes to give a clear and concise account of Buddhism in the compass of a few lectures, must find himself engaged in a very venturesome and difficult task.

Happily we are gaining acquaintance with the Southern or purest form of Buddhism through editions and translations of the texts of the Pāli Canon by Fausböll, Childers, Rhys Davids, Oldenberg, Morris, Trenckner, L. Feer, etc. We owe much, too, to the works of Turnour, Hardy, Clough, Gogerly, D’Alwis, Burnouf, Lassen, Spiegel, Weber, Koeppen, Minayeff, Bigandet, Max Müller, Kern, Ed. Müller, E. Kuhn, Pischel, and others. These enable us to form a fair estimate of what Buddhism was in its early days.

But the case is different when we turn to the Northern Buddhist Scriptures, written generally in tolerably correct Sanskṛit (with Tibetan translations). These continue to be little studied, notwithstanding the materials placed at our command and the good work done, first by the distinguished ‘founder of the study of Buddhism,’ Brian Hodgson, and by Burnouf, Wassiljew, Cowell, Senart, Kern, Beal, Foucaux, and others. In fact, the moment we pass from the Buddhism of India, Ceylon, Burma, and Siam, to that of Nepāl, Kashmīr, Tibet, Bhutān, Sikkim, China, Mongolia, Manchuria, Corea, and Japan, we seem to have entered a labyrinth, the clue of which is continually slipping from our hands.

Nor is it possible to classify the varying and often conflicting systems in these latter countries, under the one general title of Northern Buddhism.

For indeed the changes which religious systems undergo, even in countries adjacent to each other, not unfrequently amount to an entire reversal of their whole character. We may illustrate these changes by the variations of words derived from one and the same root in neighbouring countries. Take, for example, the German words selig, ‘blessed,’ and knabe, ‘a boy,’ which in England are represented by ‘silly’ and ‘knave.’

A similar law appears to hold good in the case of religious ideas. Their whole character seems to change by a change of latitude and longitude. This is even true of Christianity. Can it be maintained, for instance, that the Christianity of modern Greece and Rome has much in common with early Christianity, and would any casual observer believe that the inhabitants of St. Petersburg, Berlin, Edinburgh, London, and Paris were followers of the same religion?

It cannot therefore surprise us if Buddhism developed into apparently contradictory systems in different countries and under varying climatic conditions. In no two countries did it preserve the same features. Even in India, the land of its birth, it had greatly changed during the first ten centuries of its prevalence. So much so that had it been possible for its founder to reappear upon earth in the fifth century after Christ, he would have failed to recognize his own child, and would have found that his own teaching had not escaped the operation of a law which experience proves to be universal and inevitable.

It is easy, therefore, to understand how difficult it will be to give any semblance of unity to my present subject. It will be impossible for me to treat as a consistent whole a system having a perpetually varying front and no settled form. I can only give a series of somewhat rough, though, I hope, trustworthy outlines, as far as possible in methodical succession.

And in the carrying out of such a design, the three objects that will at first naturally present themselves for delineation will be three which constitute the well-known triad of early Buddhism—that is to say, the Buddha himself, His Law and His Order of Monks.

Hence my aim will be, in the first place, to give such a historical account of the Buddha and of his earliest teaching as may be gathered from his legendary biography, and from the most trustworthy parts of the Buddhist canonical scriptures. Secondly, I shall give a brief description of the origin and composition of those scriptures as containing the Buddha’s ‘Law’ (Dharma); and thirdly, I shall endeavour to explain the early constitution of the Buddha’s Order of Monks (Saṅgha). After treating of these three preliminary topics, I shall next describe the Law itself; that is, the philosophical doctrines of Buddhism, its code of morality and theory of perfection, terminating in Nirvāṇa. Lastly, I shall attempt to trace out the confused outlines of theistic, mystical, and hierarchical Buddhism, as developed in Northern countries, adding an account of sacred objects and places, and contrasting the chief doctrines of Christianity. In regard to the Buddhism of Tibet, I shall chiefly base my explanations on Koeppen’s great work—a work never translated into English and now out of print—as well as on my own researches during my travels through the parts of India bordering on that country.

And here I ought to state that my explanations and descriptions will, I fear, be wholly deficient in picturesqueness. My simple aim will be to convey clear and correct information in unembellished language; and in doing this, I shall often be compelled to expose myself to the reproach contained in the expressions, ćarvita-ćarvaṇam, ‘chewing the chewed,’ and pishṭa-peshaṇam, ‘grinding the ground.’ I shall constantly be obliged to tread on ground already well trodden.

To begin, then, with the Buddha himself.

LECTURE II.
The Buddha as a personal Teacher.

It is much to be regretted that among all the sacred books that constitute the Canon of the Southern Buddhists (see [p. 61])—the only true Canon of Buddhism—there is no trustworthy biography of its Founder.

For Buddhism is nothing without Buddha, just as Zoroastrianism is nothing without Zoroaster, Confucianism nothing without Confucius, Muhammadanism nothing without Muhammad, and I may add with all reverence, Christianity nothing without Christ.

Indeed, no religion or religious system which has not emanated from some one heroic central personality, or in other words, which has not had a founder whose strongly marked personal character constituted the very life and soul of his teaching and the chief factor in its effectiveness, has ever had any chance of achieving world-wide acceptance, or ever spread far beyond the place of its origin.

Hence the barest outline of primitive Buddhism must be incomplete without some sketch of the life and character of Gautama Buddha himself. Yet it is difficult to find any sure basis of fact on which we may construct a fairly credible biography.

In all likelihood legendary histories of the Founder of Buddhism were current in Nepāl and Tibet in the early centuries of our era; but unhappily his too enthusiastic and imaginative admirers have thought it right to testify their admiration by interweaving with the probable facts of Gautama Buddha’s life, fables so extravagant that some modern critical scholars have despaired of attempting to sift truth from fiction, and have even gone to the extreme of doubting that Gautama Buddha ever lived at all.

To believe nothing that has been recorded about him, is as unreasonable as to accept with unquestioning faith all the miraculous circumstances which are made to encircle him as with a halo of divine glory.

We must bear in mind that when Gautama Buddha lived—about the fifth century B.C.—the art of writing was not common in India[9]. We may point out, too, that in all countries, European as well as Asiatic—notably in Greece (witness, for example, the familiar instance of Socrates)—men have thought more of preserving the sayings of their teachers than of recording the facts of their lives.

And we must not forget that in India—where the imaginative faculties have always been too active, and anything like real history is unknown—any plain matter-of-fact biography of the most heroic personage would have few charms for any one, and little chance of gaining acceptance anywhere.

Hence it has happened that the ballads (gāthā) and legends current about Gautama among Northern Buddhists, bristle with the wildest fancies and the most absurd exaggerations.

Yet it is not impossible to detect a few scattered historical facts beneath stories, however childish, and legends, however extravagant. We shall not at least be far wrong, if, in attempting an outline of the Buddha’s life, we begin by asserting that intense individuality, fervid earnestness, and severe simplicity of character, combined with singular beauty of countenance, calm dignity of bearing, and above all, almost superhuman persuasiveness of speech, were conspicuous in the great Teacher.

The earliest authorities, however, never claim for him anything extraordinary or superhuman in regard to external form. It was only in later times that Buddhist writers pandered to the superstitions of the people, by describing the Buddha as possessed of various miraculous characteristics of mind and body. He is said to have been of immense stature—according to some, eighteen feet high—and to have had on his body thirty-two chief auspicious marks (mahā-vyañjana), regarded as indications of a Supreme Lord and Universal Ruler, eighty secondary marks (anu-vyañjana), besides one hundred and eight symbols on the sole of each foot, and a halo extending for six feet round his person.

All that can be said with any degree of probability about his personal appearance is, that he was endowed with certain qualities, which acted like a spell, or with a kind of irresistible magnetism, on his hearers. These must have formed, so to speak, the foundation-stone on which the superstructure of his vast influence rested.

SACRED LAND OF BUDDHISM, AND SCENE OF THE BUDDHA’S ITINERATION AND PREACHING FOR FORTY-FIVE YEARS.

Unhappily, no authoritative Buddhist scripture gives any trustworthy clue to the exact year of the Buddha’s birth. The traditions which refer back his death to a date corresponding to 543 B.C. are now rejected by modern European scholars. Nor can we as yet accept as infallible the results of the latest researches, which making use of various other data, such as the inscriptions on coins, rocks, and columns, place his death more than a century later. We shall not, however, be far wrong if we assert that he was born about the year 500 B.C. at Kapila-vastu (now Bhūila)—a town situated about half-way between Bastī and Ajūdhyā (Ayodhyā) in the territory of Kosala (the modern Oudh, see pp. [29], [48]), about sixty miles from its capital city Ṡrāvasti (a favourite residence of Gautama), and about one hundred miles[10] north-west of Benares, and near the borders of the kingdom of Magadha (now Behār).

His father, named Ṡuddhodana, was a land-owner of the tribe of the Ṡākyas (a name possibly connected with the Sanskṛit root Ṡak, ‘to be powerful’), whose territory in the Gorakh-pur district extended from the lower Nepalese mountains to the river Raptī in Oudh. It has been conjectured that the Ṡākyas may have been originally a non-Āryan tribe, connected perhaps with certain nomad immigrants from Tibet or Northern Asia, who may have immigrated into India at various periods; but even if this could be proved, it would have to be admitted that the Ṡākyas had become Āryanized. It is said that the chief families claimed to be Rājputs, tracing back their origin to Ikshvāku, the first of the Solar race. It appears, too, that though belonging to the Kshatriya caste, they were agriculturists, and mainly engaged in the cultivation of rice. It is also asserted that Ṡākya families were in the habit of taking the name of the family of the Brāhmans who were their spiritual guides and performed religious offices for them, and that the family of Ṡuddhodana took the name Gautama, that is, descendant of the sage Gotama. It does not, however, seem necessary to account for the name in this manner. It was an auspicious name, which in ancient times might have been given to the child of any great land-owner as a proof of orthodoxy, or with the view, perhaps, of pleasing the Brāhmans and securing their prayers and good wishes on its behalf.

The father of the Founder of Buddhism was simply a chief of the Ṡākya tribe—certainly not a king in our sense of the term—but rather a great Zamīndār or landlord, whose territory was not so large in area as Yorkshire. His name Ṡuddhodana, ‘one possessed of pure rice,’ probably indicated the occupation and ordinary food of the peasantry inhabiting the district belonging to him and subject to his authority. Those who have travelled much in India must often have met great land-owners of the Ṡuddhodana type—men to whom the title Mahā-rāja is given much as ‘Lord’ is to our aristocracy. For example, the Mahā-rāja of Darbhanga is probably a more important personage than Gautama’s father ever was, and his territory larger than that of Ṡuddhodana ever was.

The name Gautama (in Pāli spelt Gotama) was the personal name corresponding to that given to all children at the name-giving ceremony. It was not till his supposed attainment of perfect wisdom that Gautama assumed the title of Buddha, or ‘the enlightened one.’ But from that time forward this became his recognized title. Every other name besides Gautama (or Gotama), and every other title except Buddha (or together, Gautama Buddha), are simply epithets; for example, Ṡākya-muni, ‘sage of the tribe of the Ṡākyas;’ Ṡākya-siṉha, ‘lion of the Ṡākyas;’ Ṡramaṇa (Samano), ‘the ascetic;’ Siddhārtha, ‘one who has fulfilled the object (of his coming);’ Sugata, ‘whose coming is auspicious;’ Tathāgata, ‘who comes and goes as his predecessors;’ Bhagavān (Bhagavā), ‘the blessed lord;’ Ṡāstā (Satthā), ‘the Teacher;’ Aṡaraṇa-ṡaraṇa, ‘Refuge of the refugeless;’ Āditya-bandhu, ‘Kinsman of the Sun;’ Jina, ‘conqueror;’ Mahā-vīra, ‘great hero;’ Mahā-purusha, ‘great man;’ Ćakravartī, ‘universal monarch.’ Devout Buddhists call him ‘Lord of the World,’ ‘the Lord,’ ‘World-honoured One,’ ‘King of the Law,’ ‘the Jewel,’ etc.; and prefer to use the titles rather than the personal name Gautama, which is thought too familiar.

The names of previous Buddhas, supposed to have existed in previous ages, are given at [p. 136].

Little of the story of the miraculous birth of Buddha is worthy of repetition. Since, however, a white elephant is reckoned among the sacred objects of Buddhism, as something rare and precious, it is worth while mentioning the fable, that when the time came for the Bodhi-sattva to leave the Tushita heaven ([p. 120]) and be born on earth as Gautama Buddha, he descended into the womb of his mother in the form of a white elephant. He was born under a Ṡāl tree and the god Brahmā received him from his mother’s side. His mother, Māyā, died seven days afterwards, and the infant was committed to her sister (Mahā-prajāpatī), a second wife of Ṡuddhodana.

It is not related of Gautama that, as he grew up, any efforts were made to imbue him with sacred learning; though, as a Kshatriya, he was privileged to receive instruction in certain portions of the Veda.

Nor are we told of him that as a Kshatriya he was trained to the profession of a soldier. It is more probable, that his love of contemplation developed itself very early, and that from a desire to humour this not uncommon Oriental propensity, he was allowed to pass most of his time in the open air.

There is a well-known legend, which relates how Gautama’s relations came in a body to his father and complained that the youth’s deficiency in martial and athletic exercises would incapacitate him, on reaching manhood, from taking part in warlike expeditions. This might be reckoned among the few trustworthy historical incidents, were the story not marred by the legendary addition, that on a day of trial being fixed, the youth, without any previous practice, and of course to the surprise of all present, proved his superiority in archery and in ‘the twelve arts.’

One statement may certainly be accepted without much qualification. It is said that Gautama was made to marry early, according to the universal custom throughout India in the present day. No son of any respectable person in modern times could remain unmarried at the age of sixteen or seventeen, without, so to speak, tarnishing the family escutcheon, and exposing the youth himself to a serious social stigma, likely to cling to him in after-life. In ancient times marriage was equally universal, and there is no reason to suppose that among Kshatriyas it was delayed to a much later period of life.

No doubt, therefore, the future Buddha had at least one wife (whose name was Yaṡodharā, though often called Rāhula-mātā, ‘Rāhula’s mother’), and probably at least one son, named Rāhula. It is said that this son was not born till his father was twenty-nine years of age, or not till the time when a sense of the vanity of all human aims, and a resolution to abandon all worldly ties, and a longing to enter upon a monastic life had begun to take possession of his father’s mind.

The story of the four visions, which led to his final renunciation of the world, is profusely overlaid with fanciful hyperbole, but, however slight the basis of fact on which it may reasonably be held to rest, it is too picturesque and interesting to be passed over without notice. I therefore here abridge the account given in Mr. Beal’s translation of the Chinese version of the Abhi-nishkramaṇa-sūtra, varying (for the sake of brevity) the phraseology, but retaining the expression ‘prince’:—

One day the prince Gautama resolved to visit the gardens in the neighbourhood of his father’s city, desiring to examine the beautiful trees and flowers.

Then there appeared before his eyes in one of the streets the form of a decrepid[**decrepit] old man, his skin shrivelled, his head bald, his teeth gone, his body infirm and bent. A staff supported his tottering limbs, as he stood right across the path of the prince’s advancing chariot.

Seeing this aged person, Siddhārtha inquired of his charioteer:—‘What human form is this, so miserable and so distressing, the like of which I have never seen before?’

The charioteer replied:—‘This is what is called an old man.’

The prince again inquired:—‘And what is the exact meaning of this expression “old”?’

The charioteer answered:—‘Old age implies the loss of bodily power, decay of the vital functions, and failure of mind and memory. This poor man before you is old and approaching his end.’

Then asked the prince:—‘Is this law universal?’

‘Yes,’ he replied, ‘this is the common lot of all living creatures. All that is born must die.’

Soon afterwards another strange sight presented itself—a sick man, worn by disease and suffering, pale and miserable, scarcely able to draw his breath, was seen tottering on the road.

Then the prince inquired of his charioteer:—‘Who is this unhappy being?’

The charioteer replied:—‘This is a sick man, and such sickness is common to all.’

Soon afterwards there passed before them a corpse, borne on a bier.

Then asked the prince:—‘Who is this borne onwards on his bed, covered with strangely-coloured garments, surrounded by people weeping and lamenting?’

‘This,’ replied the charioteer, ‘is called a dead body; he has ended his life; he has no further beauty of form, and no desires of any kind; he is one with the stones and the felled tree; he is like a ruined wall, or fallen leaf; no more shall he see his father or mother, brother or sister, or other relatives; his body is dead, and your body also must come to this.’

Next day on his going out by a different gate there appeared advancing with measured steps a man with a shaven crown, and monk’s robe—his right shoulder bare, a religious staff in his right hand, and a mendicant’s alms-bowl in his left.

‘Who is this,’ the prince inquired, ‘proceeding with slow and dignified steps, looking neither to the right hand nor to the left, absorbed in thought, with shaven head and garments of reddish colour?’

‘This man,’ said the charioteer, ‘devotes himself to charity, and restrains his appetites and his bodily desires. He hurts nobody, but does good to all, and is full of sympathy for all.’

Then the prince asked the man himself to give an account of his own condition.

He answered:—‘I am called a homeless ascetic; I have forsaken the world, relatives, and friends; I seek deliverance for myself and desire the salvation of all creatures, and I do harm to none.’

After hearing these words, the prince went to his father and said, ‘I wish to become a wandering ascetic (parivrājika) and to seek Nirvāna; all worldly things, O king! are changeable and transitory.’

Such is an epitome of the legendary story of the ‘four visionary appearances,’ so called because they are supposed to have been divine visions or appearances, miraculously produced. The remainder of the legendary life of Gautama Buddha is interesting and here and there not without some historical value, and portions of it I now add in an abridged form.

Very shortly after the occurrences just described, Gautama receives intelligence of the birth of his son Rāhula. This is the first momentous crisis of his life, and Gautama remains for a long time lost in profound thought. He sees in his child the strongest of all fetters, binding him to family and home. But his mind is made up. He must fly at once, or be for ever held in bondage. Around him gather the beautiful women of his father’s household, striving by their blandishments to divert him from his purpose; but in vain. He seeks the chamber of his wife, and finds her asleep with her hand on the head of his infant son. He longs for a last embrace; but fearing to arouse her suspicions hurries away. Outside, his favourite horse is waiting to aid his flight. He accomplishes the first stage of what Buddhists call with pride the Mahābhinishkramaṇa, ‘the great going forth from home;’ but not without overcoming other still more formidable trials. For Māra, the evil deity who tempts men to indulge their passions (see [p. 120]), makes himself visible, and promises the prince all the glories of empire if he will return to the pleasures of worldly life.

Finding all his allurements disregarded, Māra alters his method of attack; he fills the air with mighty thunderings, and creates on the road before the youthful fugitive’s eyes apparitions of torrents, lofty mountains, and blazing conflagrations. But nothing alarms or deters him. ‘I would rather,’ he exclaims, ‘be torn to pieces limb by limb, or be burnt in a fiery furnace, or be ground to pieces by a falling mountain than forego my fixed purpose for one single instant.’

Arrived at a safe distance from his father’s territory, he exchanges garments with a passing beggar, cuts off his own hair with a sword, and assumes the outward aspect and character of a wandering ascetic. The hair does not fall to the ground but is taken up to the Trayastriṉṡas heaven ([p. 120]), and worshipped by the gods.

His first halting-place is Rāja-gṛiha (now Rāj-gīr), the chief city of Magadha, which, with Kosala (Oudh, pp. [21], [48]), afterwards became the holy land of Buddhism. There he attaches himself as a disciple to two Brāhmans named Āḷāra (in Sanskṛit Ārāḍa, with epithet Kālāpa or Kālāma) and Uddaka (Udraka, also written Rudraka, and called Rāma-putta, Mahā-vagga I. 6. 3), who imbue him with their own philosophical tenets and theory of salvation. Sufficient evidence exists to warrant a belief in this part of the story.

No place in India abounds in more interesting Buddhistic remains than Rāja-gṛiha (about 40 miles south-east of Patnā), proving that it was one of the most sacred places of Buddhism, consecrated by some of its most cherished associations. Its Pāli name is Rāja-gaha. It may be conjectured that the connexion between the metaphysics of Buddhism and those of Brāhmanism was due to Gautama’s intercourse with the Brāhmans of this district, and to the ideas he thus imbibed at the earliest stage of his career.

But to resume our story. Gautama fails to find in Brāhmanical philosophy that rest and peace for which his soul was craving when he left his home.

Still there was another way of emancipation and union with the Universal Soul, taught by the Brāhmans. This was the way of Tapas[11], or self-inflicted bodily pain and austerity.

From the earliest times a favourite doctrine of Brāhmanism has been, that self-inflicted bodily suffering is before all things efficacious for the accumulation of religious merit, for the acquirement of supernatural powers, and for the spirit’s release from the bondage of transmigration and its re-absorption into the One Universal Spirit.

Among other forms of self-inflicted pain, religious devotees (Tapasvīs) sometimes went through the process of sitting all day long unmoved during the hottest months on a prepared platform or plot of ground, surrounded by five fires, or by four blazing fires, with the burning sun above their heads as a fifth[12]. Even gods (and notably Ṡiva) are described as mortifying themselves by bodily austerities (tapas), so as not to be outdone by men; for according to the theory of Hindūism, the gods themselves might be supplanted and even ousted from their rank and position as divinities by the omnipotence acquirable by human devotees through a protracted endurance of severe bodily suffering.

Hence we are not surprised to find it recorded of Gautama Buddha, that seeking in vain for rest in the teaching of Brāhmanical philosophy, and eager to try the effect of a course of self-mortification, he wandered forth from Rāja-gṛiha to a wood in the district of Gayā, called Uruvilvā (or Uruvelā).

There, in company with five other ascetics, he began his celebrated sexennial fast. Sitting down with his legs folded under him on a raised seat in a place unsheltered from sun, wind, rain, dew, and cold, he gradually reduced his daily allowance of food to a single grain of rice. Then holding his breath, he harassed and macerated his body, but all in vain. No peace of mind came, and no divine enlightenment. He became convinced of his own folly in resorting to bodily austerity as a means of attaining supreme enlightenment, and delivering himself from the evils and sufferings of life.

Rousing himself, as if from a troubled dream, he took food and nourishment in a natural way, thereby incurring the temporary disapproval of his five companions in self-mortification. Then, when sufficiently refreshed, he moved away to another spot in the same district. There, under the shelter of a sacred fig-tree (Aṡvattha, Ficus religiosa, known as the Pippala or Pīpal), in a village, afterwards called Buddha-Gayā, he gave himself up to higher and higher forms of meditation (Jhāna = Dhyāna). In this he merely conformed to the Hindū Yoga,—a method of attaining mystic union with the Deity, which although not then formulated into a system, was already in vogue among the Brāhmans. There can be little doubt that the Dhāraṇā, Dhyāna (see [p. 209]), and Samādhi of the Yoga were resorted to, even in Gautama’s time, as a means for the attainment of perfect spiritual illumination, as well as of final absorption in the Deity.

In Manu VI. 72 it is said:—‘Let him purge himself from all taints (doshān) by suppression of breath, from sin by restraints of thought (dhāraṇābhiḥ), from sensual attachments by control, and from unspiritual qualities by meditation (dhyānena).’

In the later work called Bhagavad-gītā (see [p. 95] of this volume) it is declared:—‘holding his body, head, and neck quite immovable, seated on a firm seat in a pure spot with Kuṡa grass around, the devotee (Yogī) should look only at the tip of his nose, and should meditate on the Supreme Being’ (VI. 11, 12). Further on he is directed to meditate so profoundly as to think about nothing whatever (VI. 25).

The very Gāyatrī or ancient Vedic prayer (Ṛig-veda III. 62. 10, see [p. 78] of this volume)—which is to Hindūs what the Lord’s Prayer is to Christians, and is still repeated by millions of our Indian fellow-subjects at their daily devotions—was originally an act of meditation, performed with the very object Gautama had in view—supreme enlightenment of mind:—‘Let us meditate (Dhīmahi, root dhyai) on the excellent glory of the divine vivifying Sun, may he enlighten our understandings.’ Even the selection of a seat under an Aṡvattha tree was in keeping with Brāhmanical ideas (see ‘Brāhmanism and Hindūism,’ p. 335).

The first result, however, of his engaging in abstract meditation, was that he seemed to himself to be as far as ever from the emancipation which was the one aim of his great renunciation. Why not then return to the world? Why not indulge again in the pleasures of sense? Why not go back to home, wife, and child? Thoughts of this kind passed through his mind, while all his old affections and feelings seemed to revive with tenfold intensity. Then on one particular night, during this mental struggle, Māra, the Destroyer and personification of carnal desire, seized his opportunity. The spirit of evil had bided his time; had waited to assail the sage at the right moment, when protracted self-mortification had done its work—when with exhausted strength he had little power of resistance.

It is certainly remarkable that a great struggle between good and evil, right and wrong, truth and error, knowledge and ignorance, light and darkness, is recognized in all religious systems, however false. (See a notable allusion to this in Ṡaṅkara’s Commentary to Ćhāndogya Upanishad, p. 26, ll. 2-8.)

The legendary description of the Buddha’s temptation, and of the assault made upon him by Māra (the deadly spirit of sensuous desire[13]), and by all his troop of attendants, is so interesting and curious, notwithstanding its extravagance, that I here abridge it:—

Fiends and demons swarmed about him in the form of awful monsters, furies, vampires, hobgoblins, armed to the teeth with every implement of destruction. Their million faces were frightful to behold, their limbs encircled by myriads of serpents, their heads enveloped in a blaze of fire. They surrounded the saint and assailed him in a thousand different ways. Missiles of all kinds were hurled against him; poison and fire were showered over him—but the poison changed into flowers, the fire formed a halo round his head.

The baffled evil one now shifted his ground. He summoned his sixteen enchanting daughters, and sent them to display their charms in the presence of the youthful saint. But the resolute young ascetic was not to be lured by their wiles. He remained calm and impassive, and with a stern face rebuked the maidens for their boldness, forcing them to retire discomfited and disgraced.

Other forms of temptation followed, and the debilitated ascetic’s strength seemed to be giving way. But this was merely the crisis. After rising to higher and higher stages of abstract meditation at the end of a long night he shook off his foe. The victory was won, and the light of true knowledge broke upon his mind. A legend relates that in the first night-watch he gained a knowledge of all his previous existences; in the second—of all present states of being; in the third—of the chain of causes and effects ([p. 102]); and at the dawn of day he knew all things.

The dawn on which this remarkable struggle terminated was the birthday of Buddhism. Gautama was at that time about thirty-five years of age. It was then, and not till then, that his Bodhi-sattvaship (see [p. 135]) ended and he gained a right to the title Buddha, ‘the Enlightened.’ No wonder that the tree under which he sat became celebrated as ‘the tree of knowledge and enlightenment.’ It is remarkable, too, that just as the night on which the Buddha attained perfect enlightenment is the most sacred night with Buddhists, so the Bodhi-tree (in familiar language, Bo-tree) is their most sacred symbol—a symbol as dear to Buddhists as the Cross is to Christians.

And what was this true knowledge, evolved out of a mind sublimated by intense meditation?

This is, perhaps, the strangest point of all in this strange story. It was after all a mere partial one-sided truth—the outcome of a single line of thought, dwelt upon with morbid intensity, to the exclusion of every other line of thought which might have modified and balanced it. It was an ultra-pessimistic view of the miseries of life, and a determination to ignore all its counterbalancing joys. It was the doctrine that this present life is only one link in a chain of countless transmigrations—that existence of all kinds involves suffering, and that such suffering can only be got rid of by self-restraint and the extinction of desires, especially of the desire for continuity of personal existence.

For let it be made clear at the outset, that whatever may be said of the Christian-like self-renunciation enjoined by the Buddhist code of morality, the only self it aims at renouncing is the self of personality, and the chief self-love it deprecates is the self-love which consists in craving for continuous individual life.

To those who have never travelled or resided much in the East, indulgence in such a morbid form of pessimism, under glowing skies and amid bright surroundings, may seem almost an impossibility. But those who know India by personal experience are aware that its climate is not conducive to optimistic views of life, and that even in the present day men of the Buddha type, who seek in various ways to impress their pessimistic theories of existence on their fellow-men, are not uncommon.

In the course of my travels I frequently met ascetics who had given up family and friends, and were leading a life of morose seclusion, and pretended meditation, undergoing long courses of bodily mortification. Nay, I have even seen men who, to prove their utter contempt for the pleasures of worldly existence, and to render themselves fit for the extinction of all personality by absorption into the Universal Soul, have sat in one posture, or held up one arm for years, or allowed themselves no bed but a bed of spikes, no shelter but the foliage of trees[14]. Gautama’s course of protracted cogitation therefore had in it nothing peculiar or original.

Nor need we doubt that certain historical facts underlie the legendary narrative. We cannot admit with the learned Senart and Kern that the life of Gautama was based on a mere solar myth. To us it is more difficult not to believe than to believe that there lived in the fifth century B.C. the youthful son of a petty Rāja or land-owner in Oudh, distinguished from ordinary men by many remarkable qualities of mind and body—notably by a thoughtful and contemplative disposition; that he became impressed with a sense of the vanity of all earthly aims, and of the suffering caused by disease and death; that he often said to himself, ‘Life is but a troubled dream, an incubus, a nightmare,’ or, like the Jewish sage of old, ‘All the days of man are sorrow,’ ‘Man walketh in a vain shadow and disquieteth himself in vain;’ and that like many other of the world’s philosophers, instead of acquiescing in the state of things around him, and striving to make the best of them, or to improve them, he took refuge from the troubles of life in abandoning all its ties, renouncing all its joys, and suppressing all its affections and desires.

And again, it is more difficult not to believe than to believe that in such a man introspection and abstinence, protracted for many years, induced a condition of mind favourable to ecstatic visions, which were easily mistaken for flashes of inner enlightenment.

We know, indeed, that eleven centuries later another great thinker arose among the Semitic races in Western Asia, who went through the same kind of mental struggle, and that Muhammad, like Gautama, having by his long fasts and austerities brought himself into a highly wrought condition of the nervous system, became a fanatical believer in the reality of his own delusions and in his own divine commission as a teacher.

But the parallel between the Buddha and Muhammad cannot be carried on much further. And indeed, in point of fact, no two characters could be more different. For the Buddha never claimed to be the channel of a supernatural revelation; never represented the knowledge that burst on his mind as springing from any but an internal source; never taught that a divine force operating from without compelled him to communicate that knowledge to mankind; never dreamed of propagating that knowledge to others by compulsion, much less by the sword. On the contrary, he always maintained that the only revelation he had received was an illumination from within—due entirety to his own intuitions, assisted by his reasoning powers and by severe purgatorial discipline protracted through countless previous births in every variety of bodily form.

But how did this internal self-enlightenment[15]—the great distinguishing feature of Buddhism—first find expression? It is said that the first words uttered by the Buddha at the momentous crisis when true knowledge burst upon him, were to the following effect:—

‘Through countless births have I wandered, seeking but not discovering (anibbisan) the maker of this my mortal dwelling-house (gaha-kāraka), and still again and again have birth and life and pain returned. But now at length art thou discovered, thou builder of this house (of flesh). No longer shalt thou rear a house for me. Rafters and beams are shattered and with destruction of Desire (Taṉhā) deliverance from repeated life is gained at last’ (Dhamma-pada 153, 154, Sumaṅgala 46).

Contrast with these first utterances of Gautama Buddha the first words of Jesus Christ:—

‘Wist ye not that I must be about My Father’s business?’ (St. Luke ii. 49.)

The Buddha’s first exclamations, as well as the account of his subsequent sayings and doings, are the more worthy of credit as taken from the Southern Canon.

The Mahā-vagga (I. 1) tells us that after attaining complete intelligence, the Buddha sat cross-legged on the ground under the Bodhi-tree for seven days, absorbed in meditation and enjoying the bliss of enlightenment. At the end of that period, during the first three watches of the night, he fixed his mind on the causes of existence. Then having thought out the law of causation ([p. 102]), he exclaimed: ‘When the laws of being become manifest to the earnest thinker, his doubts vanish, and, like the Sun, he dispels the hosts of Māra.’

Next he meditated for another seven days under a banyan tree, called the tree of goat-herds (aja-pāla). It was there that a haughty Brāhman accosted him with the question, ‘Who is a true Brāhman?’ and was told, ‘One free from evil and pride; self-restrained, learned, and pure.’

Then he meditated under another tree for a third period of seven days. There the serpent (Nāga) Mućalinda (or Mućilinda) coiled his body round the Buddha, and formed a canopy to protect him from the raging of a storm—this being one of the trials he had to go through. When it was over the Buddha exclaimed, ‘Happy is the seclusion of the satisfied man (tushṭa) who has learned and seen the truth.’

A fourth period of meditation was passed under the tree Rājāyatana, making four times seven days. May not these symbolize the four stages of meditation ([p. 209])? Later legends, however, reckon seven times seven days.

During the whole of the interval between the first acquisition of knowledge and the setting forth to proclaim it, the Buddha fasted, being too elated to seek food, and only once receiving it from two merchants, named Tapussa (Trapusha) and Bhallika. These became his first lay-reverers ([p. 89]) by repeating the double formula of reverence for the Buddha and for his doctrine (the Saṅgha not being then instituted, Mahā-v° I. 4. 5). A later legend relates that they received in return eight of his hairs which they preserved as relics.

In connexion with the legend of a forty-nine days’ fast, I may mention that an ancient carving of Gautama was pointed out to me at Buddha-Gayā, which represents him as holding a bowl of rice-milk divided into forty-nine portions, one for each day.

With these legends we may contrast the simple Gospel narrative of Christ’s forty days’ fast in the wilderness.

The Buddha’s first resolution to come forth from his seclusion and proclaim his gospel to mankind is of course a great epoch with all Buddhists.

And here it should be observed, that, strictly, according to Gautama’s own teaching he ought to have ceased from all action on arriving at perfect enlightenment. For had he not attained the great object of his ambition—the end of all his struggles—the goal of all his efforts—carried on through hundreds of existences? He had, therefore, no more lives to lead, no more misery to undergo. In short he had achieved the summum bonum of all true Buddhists—the extinction of the fires of passions and desires—and had only to enjoy the well-earned peace (nirvṛiti) of complete Nirvāṇa. Yet the love of his fellow-men impelled him to action (pravṛitti). In fact it was characteristic of a supreme Buddha that he should belie, by his own activity and compassionate feelings, the utter apathy and indifference to which his own doctrines logically led ([p. 128]).

But he did not carry out his benevolent design without going through another course of temptation (which it is usual to compare with the temptation of Christ). Evil thoughts arose in his mind, and these were suggested, according to later legends, by Māra ([p. 33]), thus:—‘With great pains, blessed one, hast thou acquired this doctrine (dharma). Why proclaim it? Beings lost in desires and lusts will not understand it. Remain in quietude. Enjoy Nirvāṇa’ (Mahā-v° I. 5. 3).

To counteract these malevolent suggestions, the god Brahmā Sahāmpati (Pāli Sahămpati, [p. 210]) presented himself and exclaimed:—‘Arise, O spotless one, open the gate of Nirvāṇa. Arise, look down on the world lost in suffering. Arise, wander forth, preach the doctrine.’

First the Buddha thought of his two teachers, Āḷāra and Uddaka ([p. 29]), but found they were dead. Next he thought of the five ascetics whom he had offended by his abandonment of the method of gaining true knowledge through painful austerities. They were at that time prosecuting their bodily mortifications at Benares in the Deer-park called Isipatana. It was only natural that the Buddha should think of wending his way in the first instance to Benares, even if special considerations had not drawn him there; for that city was the great centre of Eastern thought and life, the Indian Athens, where all peculiar doctrines were most likely to gain a hearing.

On his way thither, Upaka, a member of the Ājīvaka sect of naked ascetics, met him and inquired why his countenance was so bright (pariṡuddha)? He replied, ‘I am the all-subduer, the all-wise, the stainless, the highest teacher, the conqueror ([p. 135]); I go to Benares to dissipate the world’s darkness’ (Mahā-vagga I. 6. 7).

The five ascetics (Kauṇḍinya = Koṇḍañño, Aṡvajit = Assaji, Vāshpa, Mahānāma, and Bhadrika) were soon converted by his words, and by merely repeating the triple formula were admitted at once to his Order of monks. They constituted, with Gautama, the first six members of the Saṅgha, or fraternity of men seeking release from the misery of existence by cœnobitic monasticism.

And of what nature were Gautama Buddha’s first didactic utterances? His first sermon, delivered in the Deer-park at Benares, is held in as much reverence by Buddhists as the first words of Christ are by Christians. It is called Dhamma-ćakka-ppavattana-sutta, or in Sanskṛit Dharma-ćakra-pravartana-sūtra, ‘the discourse which set in motion the wheel of the law,’ or ‘of the universal dominance of the true belief.’

The following is the substance of it, as given in the Mahā-vagga (I. 6. 17). It is important to note that the Buddha spoke in the vernacular of Magadha (now called Pāli), and not to men generally, but to the first five would-be members of his Order of monks:—

‘There are two extremes (antā), O monks (Bhikkhus), to be avoided by one who has given up the world—a life devoted to sensual pleasures (kāma), which is degrading, common, vulgar, ignoble, profitless; and a life given to self-mortification (ātma-klamatha)—painful, ignoble, profitless. There is a middle path, avoiding both extremes—the noble eightfold path discovered by the Buddha (Tathāgata)—which leads to insight, to wisdom, to quietude (upaṡama), to knowledge, to perfect enlightenment (sambodhi), to final extinction of desire and suffering (Nirvāṇa).’

So far there is nothing very explicit in the discourse. Doubtless such precepts as ‘virtue is a mean’ and that ‘medio tutissimus ibis’ are useful, though trite, truths; but the difficulty is to prove that the Buddha’s eightfold path is really a middle course of the kind described; for the most fanatical enthusiasts will always regard their own creed, however extravagant, as moderate.

The Buddha, therefore, goes on to propound what he calls the four noble truths (ariya-saććāni = ārya-satyāni), which are the key to his whole doctrine. They may be stated thus:—

1. All existence—that is, existence in any form, whether on earth or in heavenly spheres—necessarily involves pain and suffering (dukkha). 2. All suffering is caused by lust (rāga) or craving or desire (taṉhā = trishṇā, ‘thirst’) of three kinds—for sensual pleasure (kāma), for wealth (vibhava), and for existence (bhava). 3. Cessation of suffering is simultaneous with extinction of lust, craving, and desire ([p. 139]). 4. Extinction of lust, craving, and desire, and cessation of suffering are accomplished by perseverance in the noble eightfold path (ariyo aṭṭhangiko maggo), viz. right belief or views (sammā diṭṭhi), right resolve (saṅkappo), right speech, right work (kammanto), right livelihood (ājīvo), right exercise or training (vāyāmo = vyāyāma), right mindfulness (sati, [p. 50]), right mental concentration (samādhi).

And how is all life mere suffering (I.6.19)?—

‘Birth is suffering. Decay is suffering. Illness is suffering. Death is suffering. Association with (samprayogo) objects we hate is suffering. Separation from objects we love is suffering. Not to obtain what we desire is suffering. Clinging (upādāna) to the five elements ([p. 109]) of existence is suffering. Complete cessation of thirst (taṇhā) and desires is cessation of suffering. This is the noble truth of suffering.’

This sermon (called in Ceylon the first Baṇa = Bhāṇa, ‘recitation,’ [p. 70]) was addressed to monks, and however unfavourably it must compare with that of Christ (St. Luke iv. 18), addressed not to monks but to suffering sinners—and however obvious may be the idea that pain must result from giving way to lust and the desire for life through countless existences—is of great interest because it embodies the first teaching of one, who, if not worthy to be called ‘the Light of Asia,’ and certainly unworthy of comparison with the ‘Light of the World,’ was at least one of the world’s most successful teachers.

Bear in mind that, as the result of his earliest meditation (pp. [39], [56], [102]), the Buddha made ignorance precede lust as the primary cause of life’s misery.

Of course the real significance of the whole sermon depends on the interpretation of the word ‘right’ (sammā = samyak) in describing the eightfold path, and the plain explanation is that ‘right belief’ means believing in the Buddha and his doctrine; ‘right resolve’ means abandoning one’s wife and family as the best method of extinguishing the fires of the passions; right speech is recitation of the Buddha’s doctrine; right work (Karmānta) is that of a monk; right livelihood is living by alms as a monk does; right exercise is suppression of the individual self; right mindfulness (Smṛiti) is keeping in mind the impurities and impermanence of the body; right mental concentration is trance-like quietude.

Mark, too, that in describing the misery of life, association with loved objects is not mentioned as compensating for the pain of connexion with hateful objects.

The Buddha’s early disciples were not poor men; for the sixth to be admitted to the Saṅgha was a high-born youth named Yasa. Then this youth’s father, a rich merchant, became the first lay-disciple by repeating the triple formula (pp. [40], [78]), and his mother and wife became the first lay-sisters. Next, four high-born friends of Yasa, and subsequently fifty more became monks. Thus, not long after the first sermon, Gautama had sixty enrolled monks; all from the upper classes.

In sending forth these sixty monks to proclaim his own gospel of deliverance, he addressed them thus:—

‘I am delivered from all fetters ([p. 127]), human and divine. You too, O monks, are freed from the same fetters. Go forth and wander everywhere, out of compassion for the world and for the welfare of gods and men. Go forth, one by one, in different directions. Preach the doctrine (Dharmam), salutary (kalyāṇa) in its beginning, middle, and end, in its spirit (artha) and in its letter (vyañjana). Proclaim a life of perfect restraint, chastity, and celibacy (brahmaćariyam). I will go also to preach this doctrine’ (Mahā-vagga I. 11. 1).

When his monk-missionaries had departed, Gautama himself followed, though not till Māra ([p. 41]) had again tempted him. Quitting Benares he journeyed back to Uruvelā, near Gayā. There he first converted thirty rich young men and then one thousand orthodox Brāhmans, led by Kāṡyapa and his two brothers, who maintained a sacred fire (‘Brāhmanism,’ p. 364). The fire-chamber was haunted by a fiery snake-demon; so Buddha asked to occupy the room for a night, fought the serpent and confined him in his own alms-bowl. Next he worked other miracles (said to have been 3500 in number), such as causing water to recede, fire-wood to split, fire-vessels to appear at his word. Then Kāṡyapa and his brothers, convinced of his miraculous powers, were admitted with the other Brāhmans to the Saṅgha. Thus Buddha gathered round him about a thousand monks.

To them on a hill Gayāsīsa (Brahma-yoni), near Gayā, he preached his ‘burning’ fire-sermon (Mahā-v° I. 21): ‘Everything, O monks, is burning (ādittam = ādīptam). The eye is burning; visible things are burning. The sensation produced by contact with visible things is burning—burning with the fire of lust (desire), enmity and delusion (rāgagginā dosagginā mohagginā), with birth, decay (jarayā), death, grief, lamentation, pain, dejection (domanassehi), and despair (upāyāsehi). The ear is burning, sounds are burning; the nose is burning, odours are burning; the tongue is burning, tastes are burning; the body is burning, objects of sense are burning. The mind is burning, thoughts are burning. All are burning with the fire of passions and lusts. Observing this, O monks, a wise and noble disciple becomes weary of (or disgusted with) the eye, weary of visible things, weary of the ear, weary of sounds, weary of odours, weary of tastes, weary of the body, weary of the mind. Becoming weary, he frees himself from passions and lusts. When free, he realizes that his object is accomplished, that he has lived a life of restraint and chastity (brahma-ćariyam), that re-birth is ended.’

It is said that this fire-sermon—which is a key to the meaning of Nirvāṇa—was suggested by the sight of a conflagration. It was Gautama’s custom to impress ideas on his hearers by pointing to visible objects. He compares all life to a flame; and the gist of the discourse is the duty of extinguishing the fire of lusts, and with it the fire of all existence, and the importance of monkhood and celibacy for the attainment of this end.

Contrast in Christ’s Sermon on the Mount the words addressed to the multitude (not to monks), ‘Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.’

The Buddha and his followers next proceeded to Rāja-gṛiha. Among them were two, afterwards called ‘chief disciples’ (Agra-ṡrāvakas), Sāriputta and Moggallāna (or Maudgalyāyana), who died before the Buddha, and sixteen leaders among the so-called eighty ‘great disciples’ (Mahā-ṡrāvakas); the chief of these being Kāṡyapa (or Mahā-kāṡyapa), Upāli, and Ānanda (a cousin), besides Anuruddha (another cousin), and Kātyāyana. Of course among the eighty are reckoned the five original Benares converts. At a later time two chief female disciples (Agra-ṡrāvikās) named Khemā and Uppala-vaṇṇā (Utpala-varṇā) were added (see [p. 86]). Each leading disciple was afterwards called Sthavira, ‘an elder,’ or Mahā-sthavira, ‘great elder’ (Pāli Thera, Mahāthera; fem. Therī). Mark, too, that Bimbi-sāra, king of Magadha, and Prasenajit (Pasenadi), king of Kosala, were Gautama’s lay-disciples and constant patrons.

It was not long before the Buddha’s followers were more formally incorporated into a monastic Order (Saṅgha), and rules of discipline drawn up (see pp. [61], [72], [73], [83]). And doubtless the success of Buddhism was due to the carrying out of this idea of establishing a brotherhood offering a haven of rest to all.

About forty-five years elapsed between Gautama’s attainment of Buddhahood and his death. During that period he continued teaching and itinerating with his disciples; only going ‘into retreat’ during the rains. A list of 45 places of residence is given. He seems to have resided oftenest at Ṡrāvastī ([p. 21]) in the monastery Jetavana given by Anātha-piṇḍika; but the whole region between Ṡrāvastī and Rāja-gṛiha ([p. 29]), for nearly 300 miles, was the scene of his itineration. Favourite resorts near Rāja-gṛiha were the ‘Vulture-peak’ and Bambu-grove (Veḷu-vana); but continual itineration was one chief means of propagating Buddhism.

It is said that his death occurred at Kuṡi-nagara[16] (Kusinārā), a town about eighty miles east of Kapila-vastu—the place of his birth—when he was eighty years of age, and probably about the year 420 B.C.[17]

The story is that Gautama died from eating too much pork (or dried boar’s flesh[18]). As this is somewhat derogatory to his dignity it is not likely to have been fabricated. A fabrication, too, would scarcely make him guilty of the inconsistency of saying ‘Kill no living thing,’ and yet setting an example of eating flesh-meat.

These were his words when he felt his end near:—