CHAPTER IV.

Christianity and Buddhism. The new and old world. An impartial judge is said to be a partisan. Works on the subject. Sakya Muni's birth, B.c. 620 (about), position in life, original views. Parallels between Brahmin-ism, Buddhism, Hebraism, and Christianity. History of Sakya Muni --that of Jesus corresponds with it marvellously. Sakya receives a commission from an angel--is henceforth a saviour. History of Jesus follows that of Sakya. Siddartha neither dictated nor wrote. A favourite garden. Sakya and the Brahmins. Buddha and Christ equally persecuted. Spread of Buddhism after Siddartha's death. Asoka a royal convert Buddhist missionaries, b.c. 307. Their wonderful successes. Different development of Buddhism and Christianity. Persecution a Christian practice, Buddha tempted by the Devil, and by women, like St Anthony. Buddha's life reduced to writing, at least B.c. 90. Hardy on Buddhist miracles. His remarks criticised. Necessity for miracles is doubtful. Sakya and a future life. Resurrection from the dead. Jesus not the first fruits of them that slept. Paul's argument worthless. Buddhists in advance of Christians. Priestcraft at time of Buddha and Jesus. Both did away with ceremonial. Sakya's doctrine--compared with Christian teaching. Another parallel between Buddha and Jesus. Commandments of Tathâgata (Buddha), or the Great Sramana. Rules for his saintly friends--for outsiders. Definition of terms. The Sra-mana's opinion of miracles--a comparison. The history of Jesus told without miracles. Buddhistic confession--remarks on in modern times. Filial respect. Public confession, murder absolved thereby. Asoka, about B.c. 263, sent out missionaries. Objections made against Buddhism. Ideas respecting God. Salvation. Buddha and Jesus. Nirvana. Heaven and Hell--Christian ideas. Apocalypse. The heaven of John and Mahomet compared with that of Buddha. Prayer not a Buddhist institution--nor originally a Christian one. Nature of prayer. The developments of Buddhism, particulars-- comparison between the Eastern ancient and Western modern practice. Abbé Hue. No sexual element in Buddhism and Christianity at first--it has crept into both in later times. Inquiry into the probable introduction of Buddhism into the West. Asceticism peculiar to Buddhism and Christianity. The Essenes, their faith and practice-- resemblance to Buddhism. John and Jesus probably Essenes. If Jesus was inspired, so was Siddartha. Differences between Sakya and Jesus. Jesus 'believed in an immediate destruction of the world. Idea of préexistence in Jesus and Sakya adopted by their followers. The basis of the two faiths is morality--but an unsound one. Nature of the unsoundness. Morality has a reference to a life on earth only. The decalogue superfluous. Ideas of future rewards and punishments. Dives and Lazarus. The world can exist without a knowledge of a future life. God thought so when He taught the Jews. Dogma versus morality. See how these Christians live! There are a few good men amongst Christians. Supplementary remarks.

From the Peruvian and Aztec religious systems in what we designate the New World, a phrase which involves the idea that its existence was for ages wholly unknown to the historians of the Eastern Hemisphere, we turn to another form of faith, which demands even greater attention. Buddhism has, probably, done more to influence the minds of men in Asia than any other religion in any part of the globe, and its history is so remarkable, that it deserves the attention of every philosophical student of mankind. To the Christian it ought to be especially interesting, inasmuch as there is strong reason to believe that the faith current amongst ourselves is to be traced to the teaching of Sakya Muni, whose original name, we may notice, in passing, was no more "Buddha" than "Christ" was the cognomen of the son of Mary.

An ingenious author on one occasion wrote a charming essay "upon the art of putting things," and I cannot read any treatise upon Buddhism, written by a Christian, without thinking how completely "the advocate" is to be seen throughout them all Ecclesiastical writers, who are Protestant preachers, endeavour laboriously to prove that the teaching of Sakya Muni could not have been inspired, and was certainly false; whilst other writers, who have no particular leaning towards Jesus, extol the author of Buddhism beyond that of Christianity. Truly, in such a matter it is extremely difficult not to appear as a partisan, however carefully the scales may be held. The very fact of endeavouring "to see ourselves as others see us" involves the necessity of "putting things" in a different light to that which is most common or familiar to us. A bumptious Briton thinks more of his own Islands than a Yankee thinks of them, and one who endeavours to describe "the wheel of the law" as an astute Buddhist would do, and who, at the same time, compares it with the teachings of the son of Mary, must seem to those who, without knowing its nature, despise the former, and yet implicitly believe in the latter, to be a partisan. Acting upon this belief, we shall not scruple to appear as an advocate, for we believe that "an opposition" is as good in religion as in politics, and that it behoves us all to examine every important question in all its bearings.

In the following essay I shall not attempt to go into every detail about the life of Sakya Muni, for to do so would weary the reader. Anyone who wishes for such information may be referred to _Le Bouddha et sa Religion_, par J. Barthélemy Saint Hilaire, Paris, 1860, a book which may be fairly designated as exhaustive. The English reader may also consult _The Legends and Theories of the Buddhists_, by Rev. R. Spence Hardy, London, 1866, which, though very prejudiced, is extremely suggestive. Hardy's _Eastern Monachism_ and _Manual of Buddhists_ are about the same. _The Mahawanso_ translated by Tumour, is also a very valuable work of reference.

There appears to be little doubt that Sakya Muni was born about 622 years before our era, and that he died when about eighty years of age, i.e.f B.C. 542. He was thus a contemporary of Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and other Jewish prophets. Though of royal birth, and of the warrior or kingly caste, he does not appear to have been instructed in general history, if, indeed, any such was in existence in Hindostan at that or any other period; and we cannot find a tittle of evidence that he ever heard of any other religion than Brahminism, the dominant faith, apparently, of the Aryan invaders of India. In that he was taught assiduously, and some of its tenets he most firmly believed. Amongst others, he held that men lived in a future world, in which each one was rewarded or punished according to his doings when in a human form. His teaching was founded upon the belief which the Brahmins inculcated, that all men endure misery in this world for their conduct in a previous state of existence, and that they would once again suffer after death, unless they conducted themselves, in this life, in a manner pleasing to the Almighty. In this creed is clearly involved, if not distinctly enunciated, a full acknowledgment of the existence and power of God, of the certainty of a future life, and a desire to escape from penalties to be inflicted therein by a supreme celestial Judge, for immorality or impropriety committed in the present state. For these points of doctrine Sakya did not contend, he merely laid down a different system to the Brahmins as to the method by which salvation was to be attained, and the penal consequences of a sinful life were to be avoided.

We may now, halting here for a moment, examine these matters for ourselves, and inquire in what way such faith differs from our own. The Brahmin taught that man suffers pain, misery, and death for certain crimes committed in a previous state of existence; the Christian teaches that each one suffers for a fault committed by ancestors who lived thousands of years ago. Neither the one nor the other regard pain, sorrow, suffering, and death as the normal accompaniments of life, but both attribute them to the wrath of an offended deity, who can be, in some way, cheated, cajoled, appeased, or propitiated. Both assert that men are debtors to God, and that miseries are "duns" used to make men pay their obligations to heaven. The Brahmin taught that this could be effected by prayer, sacrifice, and sundry ceremonies to be performed by some man who had been specially appointed for the purpose. A due attention to morality was also inculcated, but it was apparently considered as of less importance than ritualistic observances.

The Jew, whom so many amongst us believe to have been especially taught by God, propounded a belief essentially similar to that of the Brahmin, with the single exception that he had no faith in a future existence, but thought that sacrifice and offerings, through a priesthood, were necessary to obtain comfort in this life.

The Christian teaches that the horrors of eternity can only be escaped by believing on the Lord Jesus Christ (Acts xvi. 30, 31), and by being moral in addition.

The "belief" here referred to is somewhat amplified in other parts of the Bible, and notably in John iii. 15-17, 36; vi. 39, 40; ix. 35; xi. 15; and Acts viii. 37; from which we learn that an item in the faith was a firm hold upon the idea that Jesus was the son, the only begotten son, of God. This dogma is still further extended in the "Apostles' Creed," wherein the Christians express, as articles of faith, their belief, that Jesus Christ was the only son of God, conceived by the Holy Ghost, and born of the Virgin Mary, &c. This tenet is somewhat varied in the Nicene Creed, which expresses the Christian belief to be, that the Lord Jesus Christ is the only begotten son of God--begotten of his Father before all worlds--being of one substance with the Father, by whom all things were made, &c.

The fundamental teaching of Sakya was, that man can only escape the tortures of the damned, by a strict propriety of conduct in this world, and a persistent endeavour to renounce and think nothing of the gratifications which make life pleasant. The modern Buddhist adds to this a belief in the absolute divinity of the founder of his faith, not simply that he was a son of God, but a visible embodiment of a portion of the Creative Unity. Brahmins and Buddhists believe in transmigration of souls: the Christian does the like, only, instead of being converted into a beast, he imagines that he will become either an angel or a devil.

Within certain limits, we may, therefore, say that the Brahminic, the Jewish, the Buddhist, and the Christian religions are essentially alike, differing only upon minor points, such as the absolute value of morality, of ceremonial, of doctrine, of asceticism, the nature of a hypothetical antecedent, and an equally uncertain future existence, and the best means of escaping the penalties attached, in the second state, to impropriety of conduct in the first. If we deride the Brahmin and the Buddhist for the faith which they entertain, our laugh must necessarily recoil on ourselves, for we have no more unequivocal grounds for our belief than they have for theirs. We point in vain to what we call "Revelation," for they can do the same, and if priority in such matters is good for anything, the Brahminic must take precedence of the Jewish, and the Buddhist of the Christian code. Nor can we call miracles to our exclusive aid, for the religious books of the Hindoo are as full of them as are those of the Jew and Christian, and the stories told in the one can be readily paralleled in impossibility, incapacity, frivolity, and absurdity by the others.

We must remember, then, when speaking of the teaching of Sakya, that it was constructed upon the supposed fundamental truths of Brahminism, just as the doctrines of Jesus were built upon those of Judaism. By adopting these, respectively, the two preachers have demonstrated their belief in them, but neither the one nor the other have advanced our knowledge as to the reality of the earliest faith, nor demonstrated the truth of their subsequent assumptions.

If we now endeavour, for the sake of comparison, to place the Eastern and the Western points of belief in parallel columns, we shall be better able to see the points of resemblance and of difference than by any other plan.

These are only a few of the leading points of resemblance and difference, and might be almost indefinitely multiplied.

After this preface, we may proceed to notice that Siddartha--another name for Buddha--was of royal birth, and born in wedlock: his mother was called Maya Devi, and was herself the daughter of a king. His father was of the warrior caste, and, according to ancient usage, Sakya, like Jesus some centuries later, was presented in the temple of the God of his parents, and recognized by a Brahmin, whom we may designate as a predecessor, by some hundreds of years, of the Jewish Simeon (Luke ii 25, seq.)f as having the marks of a great man upon him. As Sakya grew up to man's estate he was found to be peculiarly clever, and soon distanced his masters, as Jesus was and did, when, at twelve years, he went into the temple and astonished the doctors. He was always thoughtful, and frequently remained alone. Once he wandered into a forest, (compare Matthew iv. 1-11), in which he was found lost in thought. When obliged to exhibit his talents, Siddartha was found to have every conceivable excellence, bodily and mental He was, by parental desire, married to a paragon of a wife, who showed her good sense by rejecting the use of a veil. In this Sakya differs from Mary's son, who never married, being, most probably, of the tribe of the Essenes. In later life Siddartha discouraged wedlock and every form of love. But, during all his outward happiness; Siddartha's thoughts ran upon the misery which he saw on every side to be common in the world, and he entertained a hope that he would be able to show man the road to a happy immortality. In these ideas the teacher was encouraged by a god, who appeared to him by night, and told him that the appointed time for the deliverer had come. This comforter also recommended him to leave his wife, his wealth, his father's house, and give up all he had, so as to be able to seek, unencumbered, the way of salvation. Compare here the passage, Mark x. 20-30, wherein Jesus gives the same kind of advice as the angel gave to Sakya Muni. Having become satisfied of his mission from God, he resolutely abandoned everything, and, being really a scion of royalty, he had much to renounce. Siddartha thus became a mendicant, dependent upon others for food and raiment, and resembled that son of Mary, of whom we read that he had not a residence wherein to lay his head (Matt. viii. 20; Luke ix. 58). He was about twenty-nine years of age when he thus became poor for the sake of mankind. Compare what is said of Jesus, Luke iii. 23. Though Siddartha was opposed to the Brahmins, he nevertheless studied their doctrines, as Mary's son did that of the Hebrew theologians, thoroughly, under one of the wisest of them, for many years. Then, leaving this teacher, he went about preaching and doing good. So much were men impressed with his beauty, his piety, and his doctrines, that they flocked in crowds to see him, and he taught them whilst sitting on the brow of Mount Pandava--even kings came to hear him. Compare here what is said of the Nazarene, Matt. iv. 23 to Matt. viii. 1. Sakya was persecuted for a long time by a relative, who ultimately became one of his most ardent disciples. Compare Matt. xvi. 22 and John xxi. 15, et seq. Siddartha's austerities and mortifications of himself, in every conceivable way, were excessive during the next six years, and these have been represented as a combat with the Devil, whose kingdom he destroyed. At the end of this probation, Sakya Muni, finding fasting and pain not profitable for eternal salvation, resumed the ordinary human habits of eating, &c. This disgusted many of his disciples, and "they walked no more with him." He was partly supported by a slave woman, and was content to clothe himself with vestments taken from the dead. Finally, this wonderful son of Maya heard within him a voice, which told him that he was divine, the saviour of the world, and the incarnation of the wisdom of God--Buddha, "the word" itself. Compare John i. 1, et seq. This was confirmed by a miracle, and thus, at the age of thirty-six, and at the foot of a fig tree, Sakya Muni received a divine commission, "and the word was made flesh." But, though thus divinely inspired, the saviour doubted his power to convert mankind, and at the first he only preached his new doctrines to a few. Even in this respect it is marvellous to see how closely the Christian story of Jesus follows that of his predecessor Siddartha. Some opposed Sakya, but these were soon converted by his majesty, and the glory with which he spake the words--"Yes," he said, "I have come to see clearly both immortality and the way to attain it; I am Buddha--I know all--I see all--I have blotted out my faults, and am above all law." Recognizing in Siddartha the teacher of mankind, the common people heard him gladly, and gave him homage, and he, in return, taught them his full doctrine. The Indian saviour then proceeded to the holy city, Benares, and taught there. But though he spoke much, he neither dictated nor wrote--like Jesus, subsequently, he made no provision by which his doctrines might be perpetuated. From Benares he went to other places, some of which were especially dear to him, and thus became sacred. In like manner Bethany was sanctified by Jesus. Amongst others was a garden, given to him, with a mansion, by a wealthy disciple, which a lively fancy might call a Hindoo Gethsemane. In this garden Buddha made many disciples, and in it the first council of his followers was held after his death. Another favourite retreat was a plantation of mango trees, and this, like every other spot that Siddartha is known to have visited, has been adorned by the faithful with ornamental architecture in commemoration of him.

As may be supposed, Sakya, when he assailed the Brahmins, was in turn opposed by them with persevering malevolence; the former was outspoken and said what he thought of the priests--he called them hypocrites, cheats, impostors, and the like--and they were apparently conscious that they deserved such titles.

Here, again, we notice a singular parallel between the Hindoo saviour and the Jewish one, who followed him after a long interval. Not that there is anything wonderful in the founder of a new faith reviling the ministers of one more ancient--nor in the priests of an established church endeavouring to suppress, by punishments, the professors who interfere with their repose. We know how the Christian fathers abused and lampooned the faith of those whose practices they detested--how Luther and his followers lashed the vices of the Papists, and how these in their turn burned the new preachers--when they had a chance; how the Nonconformists censured the Establishment, and how the Episcopal Church has harried Independents and Presbyterians. But it is strange to find both Sakya and Jesus inaugurating a religion of peace by fierce invectives. We have not particulars respecting the choice of language made use of by the Indian, but we can scarcely imagine that it could be more to the purpose than the vituperation employed by the Hebrew. Jesus says,--"Ye compass sea and land to make one proselyte, and when he is made ye make him twofold more the child of hell than yourselves,"--"Ye are like unto whited sepulchres, which indeed appear beautiful outward, but are within full of dead men's bones and all uncleanness" (Matt, xxiii. 15-27). One cannot wonder that the Brahmins and the Pharisees, who were objurgated as hypocrites, should retort upon their accusers, prosecute the one and crucify the other.

As Sakya's influence increased, the power of the old priesthood diminished, and there are accounts of many contests between the old dispensers of Brahma's religion and the new saviour, which were held before kings and people. In consequence of these disputes Buddha's life was repeatedly in danger. But though often threatened, Siddartha died peacefully when about eighty years old, beloved by many, respected by more, worshipped as a divinity by his immediate disciples and intimate friends, and venerated by all who had listened to his discourses.

There are a great many legends existent, and of very respectable antiquity too, which tell of miracles performed by this very remarkable Indian teacher; but the judicious historian, upon whose authority I am at present relying (St. Hilaire), does not intermingle these with the narrative of Siddartha's life. In this respect he shows greater judgment than the scribes who first compiled the stories of Buddha and of Jesus, both of whom conceived that human beings could not be converted to a new style of belief without thaumaturgy.

The account of Sakya Muni and his religion would be incomplete did we not add that he left behind him enthusiastic disciples who were eager and successful in spreading his views. But many years, how many we do not know with absolute certainty, elapsed ere any account was written either of his life or of his teaching. Nor ought we to wonder at this, for until time has been given to mankind, it cannot fairly estimate the value of anything new; and when men do at length form, what they believe to be, a perfect judgment of the importance of the doctrine which has become deeply rooted, they are more eager to promulgate it in the world than to record it by writing in the closet.

The new religion certainly spread extensively all over the vast continent of Hindustan, and in the course of about three hundred years, found an enthusiastic and powerful convert in the person of a king called Asoka, who was reigning when the third convocation of Buddhists was called, b.c. 307. This ruler was imbued with a missionary spirit, and under his influence, preachers full of energy went not only throughout India, but into China, Japan, Ceylon, and apparently into every country to which ships, caravans, and the flow of commerce gave them access, including Persia, Babylonia, Syria, Palestine, Egypt, and the very populous and important emporium Alexandria. We may judge of the fanaticism of these religious envoys by their success, and we may, as is often done by Christian missionaries, test the real value of their doctrine by its endurance, and its adaptability to the religious wants of the human animal. If missionary success is a test of truth in religion, Buddhism must be superior to Christianity. Buddah--for his name is spelled variously--has more followers, according to competent authorities, than Jesus, and if the depth and earnestness shown by the converts to the two men could be weighed in impartial scales, we believe that the preponderance would be in favour of the followers of the Indian saviour.

We readily allow that Buddhism has not developed in many matters like Christianity has done. The Buddhism of to-day does not essentially differ from that in the early ages of the faith; the followers of Siddartha have not adopted the doctrines of the nations amongst which they have settled. The Christianity of to-day, on the other hand, is so widely different from that current in the first century of our era, that it has been remarked, with great pungency, that if Jesus revisited us now, he would be denounced as a heretic, and abused as a nonconformist. His followers soon introduced politics into religion, and adopted the fables and the doctrines of the Pagans amongst whom they dwelt, merely changing certain names, and ascribing virtues and miracles to saints, which the heathen attributed to Apollo, Mars, or Venus. Jesus, though a Jew, never sacrificed, nor did his apostles, but his followers thought prudent to filch the practice from the heathen; and, to smooth their difficulty, they profess to turn bread and wine into flesh and blood, and offer it up as an oblation upon their ecclesiastical altar. Jesus knew nothing of purgatory; with him the rich man went direct to hell, and Lazarus to Abraham's bosom. Modern Christians are wiser than their teacher; for he disdained the learning of Egypt, his followers took their purgatory and trinity therefrom. All this shows, that the faith of Christians in their teacher has not been equal to the unbounded trust felt by the Buddhist in his master's wisdom. Buddhism, moreover, has neither taught nor sanctioned any system of persecution. Sakya, it is true, encouraged men to make themselves miserable upon earth that they might attain future immunity from woe, but he never ordered them to use the sword or dragonnades to force other people to do so. The followers of Jesus, on the other hand, have but too often founded their claim to a happy immortality on making other men, whom they called heretics, miserable, as during the period of the crusades against the Saracens, the Albigenses, the Lollards, and the Waldenses. The Christians in many ages seemed to argue thus:--As the painful death of Mary's son saved the world, so I, by torturing a heretic, may save myself. This is an idea of vicarious atonement which, though prevalent for centuries, has never been committed to writing by those who hold it. We do not mean to allege that the opinion referred to cannot be found in history, for it is from such a source that our assertion comes. A belief, such as we refer to, was promulgated amongst the Crusaders, and was fostered by the founders of the Inquisition. Such an idea, too, is embodied in the word--"The time cometh, that whosoever killeth you will think that he doeth God service" (John xvi. 2).

We may, however, trace the idea of persecution in the early Christian Scriptures. Paul, for example, when writing to the Corinthians (1 Epistle v. 3-5) gives such encouragement as he can to those who punish an erring brother Christian, by delivering him over to Satan for the destruction of the flesh, that the spirit may be saved in the day of the Lord Jesus, and in (1st Tim. i. 20), the same author declares,--"I have delivered Hymenseus and Alexander unto Satan that they may learn not to blaspheme." The idea being, that by thus acting, both the Corinthians and Paul were improving their own ecclesiastical condition.

As I may not have another available opportunity for introducing one or two striking parallels between Sakya Muni and Jesus, I may mention here that the former is represented as being tempted by and having conversation with an evil spirit called Mâra, Evil one, Destroyer, Devil, or Papiyan. In one of these confabulations Buddah says,--"I will soon triumph over you--'desires' are your chief soldiers, then come idleness, hunger and thirst, passions, sleepy indolence, fears, doubts, angers, hypocrisy, ambition, the desire to be respected, and to have renown, praise of yourself and blame for others--these are your black allies, the soldiers of the burning demon. Your soldiers subjugate gods and men, but not me, I shall crush them by wisdom, then what will you do?" (Hilaire, p. 61). The sage is then, not unlike the so-called St. Anthony, tempted by lovely woman, thirty-two lovely demons (Apsaras) deploying all their charms. Then follows a third trial, and Mâra says to Siddartha,--"I am the lord of desire, I am the master of the entire world, the gods, the crowd of Dâvanas (spirits), men and beasts have been subjugated by me and are in my power. Like them enter my domains, rise up and speak like them." Buddha replied,--"If you are the lord of desire you are not the lord of light. Look at me, I am the lord of the law, you are powerless, and in your very sight I shall obtain supreme intelligence," (p. 64, op. cit.). The demon makes one more effort, and is again conquered, and then retires, tracing with an arrow these words upon the ground--"My empire has passed away." It may be imagined that the French author whom I quote is a partisan of the Indian sage; far from it, he records such tales with regret, for he sees how strong an influence they must have upon the perfect or imperfect authenticity of the New Testament and the story of Jesus. The similarity of the two histories is heightened by the legend before noticed, that Buddha went to Heaven to convert his mother, whilst Jesus is said to have gone down to Hades to preach to the spirits in prison, with the implied intention of converting them to the faith which he preached.

It will doubtless have occurred to anyone reading the preceding pages, if he be but familiar with the New Testament, that either the Christian histories called Gospels have been largely influenced by Buddhist's legends, or that the story of Siddartha has been moulded upon that of Jesus. The subject is one which demands and deserves the greatest attention, for if our religion be traceable to Buddhism, as the later Jewish faith is to the doctrines of Babylonians, Medes, and Persians, we must modify materially our notions of "inspiration" and "revelation." Into this inquiry St. Hilaire goes as far as documentary evidence allows him, and Hardy in _Legends and Theories of the Buddhists_ also enters upon it in an almost impartial manner. From their conclusions there can be no reasonable doubt that the story of the life of Sakya Muni, such as we have described it, certainly existed in writing ninety years before the birth of Jesus; consequently, if the one life seems to be a copy of the other, the gospel writers must be regarded as the plagiarists.

In the story of Buddha, we have eliminated the miraculous part, and exhibited him simply as a remarkable man. Nevertheless, in the writings of his followers, miracles in abundance are assigned to him. Whether these existed in the original history Hardy doubts, and his remarks are so apposite that we reproduce them (op. cit. p. xxviii). "Upon the circumstances of this first rehearsal (of the life and doctrine of Siddartha), most important consequences depend. If the miracles ascribed to Buddha can be proved to have been recorded of him at the time of his death, this would go far towards proving that the authority to which he laid claim was his rightful prerogative. They were of too public character to have been ascribed to him then if they had not taken place; so that if it was openly declared by his contemporaries, by those who had lived with him in the same monastery, that he had been repeatedly visited by Sekra and other Deivas; and that he had walked through the air and visited the heavenly world in the presence of many thousands, and those the very persons whom they addressed, we ought to render to him the homage awarded to him by even his most devoted followers. But the legend of the early rehearsal has nothing to support it beyond the assertion of authors who lived at a period long subsequent. The testimony of contemporaneous history presents no record of any event that quadrates with the wonderful powers attributed to the 'rahals,' which would undoubtedly not have been wanting if these events had really taken place."

The reader of this extract will now naturally turn his attention to the Christian gospels, and inquire into the time when they were written, and whether the arguments used by Hardy, for disbelieving the miracles of Buddha, do not equally disprove the authenticity of the miracles attributed to Jesus. We can find nowhere, in contemporary history--and there is an adequate account thereof, both Jewish and Roman--any records of the wonders said to have been done in Judea by the son of Mary. Though he was noticed by a certain writer in the Talmud, under the name of Ben Panther, that book contains no account of the marvellous works recorded in the gospels, nor any reference to his miraculous power. The Romans who dwelt in Jerusalem knew nothing of any real miracle, though Herod is reported to have noticed some gossiping accounts of John's successor. We do not find a single reference to any of the wonderful events told in the gospels in any epistle written by those who "companied with Jesus"--except the assertion that he had risen from the dead, to be found in 1 Corinthians xv. and elsewhere--whose value is problematical Still farther, we have tolerably good evidence to show that the Gospels were written at a time when they could not be tested by those people in whose presence the wonders were said to have been wrought. The narrative of John, for example, is, by scholars, supposed to have been written more than a century, probably one hundred and fifty years, after the crucifixion, and the others seem to have been composed for the benefit of those who did not live in, or know Jerusalem and Judea intimately. They resemble, in almost every respect, the stories told of such Roman saints as Francis of Assisi, Bernard, Carlo Borromeo, and Ignatius Loyola, which were always composed long after the death, and out of the presence of every one of those who could deny or controvert them. However much, or little, we may credit the biographies of Buddha and Jesus, we cannot for a moment doubt, that the two individuals were instrumental in founding forms of religion, which, by the aid of missionaries, spread over a vast extent of the habitable globe. Unlike that of Mahomet, the faiths referred to were promulgated by peaceful persuasion rather than by the sword, and by the power of eloquence, example, and precept, rather than by the influence of miracles. If, for the sake of argument, we grant that every specimen of thaumaturgy which his followers attribute to Jesus is correctly reported, we must allow also that his power of making converts by teaching, preaching, and wonder working, was inferior to that of his followers, who taught, preached, and proselytized without performing many, if any miracles. If we assert that miraculous powers are necessary for the establishment and propagation of a new religion, then we must, to be consistent with ourselves, believe in the thaumaturgy of the Buddhists, and the divine mission of Sakya Muni. If, on the other hand, we deny that Siddartha was an incarnate god or saviour, was not divinely inspired, and performed no real miracle, then it is clear that the miracles, which Jesus is said to have achieved, were wholly unnecessary, and not required in any way to upset an old religion, to found a new, or to spread it when established.

The philosopher may pause here, with profit to himself, and inquire whether there is, or there are, any new form or forms of religion which has or have sprung up within his own observation, and if so, whether it or they has or have been based upon thaumaturgy--and, if one or more have been so founded, whether one shows evidence of stability.

Few can deny that Mormonism is a form of belief which has a considerable number of adherents, a body of earnest missionaries, and a laity whose faith and practice have been sorely tested by hardship. Yet there has not been a single miracle performed by its prophets. It is reported that its founder announced that he would perform one in the sight of all Israel and of the sun, but when the time came he said, that if the spectators believed that he could do what was promised, that was quite enough!

Spiritualism, on the other hand, is a new sort of theosophy, ostensibly founded and supported wholly by thaumaturgy; its disciples have induced themselves to believe, against their original ideas, that we are not only surrounded by the spirits of the departed, but that these can be brought into connection with us by means of certain individuals, called mediators or mediums--that these have such power, over the invisible beings hovering in the air, that the souls of the dead may be made to shake the tables of the living, and lift up their sofas to the ceiling. The miracles are believed in by many, but Spiritualism lags far behind the Mormon theology, and probably always will do.

We may regard this part of our subject in yet another light. Let us, for example, suppose that the Buddhists and the Christians succeed in persuading each other of the incorrectness of the miraculous element in their respective books, does it therefore follow, that any essential part of the creed of either one or other must be altered? The doctrines of Siddartha would not be valueless even if his followers disbelieved in his power to fly as a bird, or cross a river on the surface of the water--nor would those of Mary's son be proved to be worthless if it were certain that he never marched over a billowy sea, and that he was not really killed by crucifixion. The disciples of Sakya Muni believed in a resurrection of the dead, without having had the advantage of a real or imaginary reappearance of their master after his supposed decease. The Etruscans, Greeks, and Romans, had all an Elysium to which the good folk went. The Red Indian believes in a future life and happy hunting grounds (so we are told), although he has never heard of Judea. The rude Northmen and Danes had also their Valhalla to go to after death, long ere they were Christians. Still farther, it is to be noticed, by the close observer, that the Jews at the time of Jesus, and some of the Greeks about the same period, were divided in their opinions respecting the existence of men in a future state. The Sadducees, holding fast to the books of Moses and the Prophets, denied the existence of a resurrection, of angels or of spirits. The Pharisees, on the other hand, influenced apparently by Babylonian and Persian theology, had faith in all three. That this belief in a future life was not commonly held by the poor folk in Judea, we infer from Mark ix. 10, wherein we are told that Peter, James, and John were "questioning with one another what the rising from the dead should mean." That the Athenians were equally careless about what is now called "heaven and hell," we judge from Acts xvii. 18, wherein we are told that Paul's preaching about "Jesus and the resurrection" was a strange affair, and from the thirty-second verse of the same chapter, wherein it is said that the doctrine of the resurrection of Jesus was received with derision.

I am quite aware that it may be objected to these remarks that the doubt about the rising from the dead does not point to a general resurrection, but simply to the return to life of one particular individual. This, however, only removes the difficulty to a short distance, for Greek story tells us of the annual return of Proserpine from the realms of Pluto to the light of day, and Adonis was yearly resuscitated, in mythical narrative. For the Hebrew, the rising from the dead ought not to be a wonderful matter. Was it not told in their Scriptures how, when certain persons were burying a man, the bearers in a fright threw the corpse into the sepulchre of Elijah, whose bones had such efficacy that they revived the dead man, who stood on his feet (2 Kings xiii. 21). We find also, from Mark vi. 16, Luke ix. 9, that Herod had a full belief in the power of John to rise again from the death to which that monarch had consigned him. The sceptic may doubt the ability of the two evangelists to read what was passing through the royal mind when Jesus and his works were brought before its notice, but he cannot doubt that the writer was aware that in Herod's time there was a belief in the resurrection of individuals. Indeed, we find in the verse following that which tells of the Apostle's bewilderment, Mark ix. 11, a question, "why say the scribes that Elias must first come?" To which the reply is that the prophet has come. We are constrained, therefore, to believe that Jesus was not the first who rose from the dead; nay, even he himself commissioned his disciples to "cleanse the lepers, and raise the dead" (Matth. x. 8). What, then, is the value of the arguments that Paul builds upon the assertion that Christ is "the first fruits of them that slept."

This being so, we may fairly ask, whence did Mary's son derive the ideas which he promulgated of a resurrection, and of salvation, and why had a sophistical writer like Paul to adopt the clumsy contrivance of asserting that Jesus not only had risen, but that he was the first individual who had done so, to demonstrate that the dead really did return again to life? Paul's argument, indeed, shows how little he knew or had thought upon the subject, for he distinctly preaches a resurrection of the body, not of the soul, a belief adopted into the Apostles' creed. Yet, at the very period when the minds of Christians were thus unformed, the disciples of Buddha, to a man, believed in a future "Nirvana," in which "there should be no more sorrow nor crying, neither should there be any more pain, and where all earthly things should have passed away" (see Rev. xxi. 4). We are not yet in the position to prove that Mary's son and certain of his followers received their inspiration from disciples of Siddartha, but there is certainly a strong presumption in favour of the possibility, much evidence of its probability, and nothing whatever to disprove it. To this, however, we will return by and by.

Ere we proceed to examine into the nature of the doctrines of Sakya Muni and of Jesus, we may cast a glance over the condition of the men whom they converted. In both instances, it is not too much to say that they all were "priest-ridden" in the fullest meaning of the term. The residents in Modern India and Papal Rome, until a short time ago, well understood what the term signifies; day by day, and almost hour by hour, there is, or was in these places, some ceremony to be attended, some prayer to be uttered, some confession to be made, some contribution to be given to monastery, church, or priest. Penances are, and were inflicted of the most painful, sometimes of the most disgusting kind. The last I heard of was in Wales, where a man was ordered to lie down at the church door as a mat, upon which the faithful were to wipe their feet. Both in India and Italy, men, women, and children alike are, or were, taught to regard themselves as the servants, and even slaves of the hierarchy, and their money is, or was, alienated from wives and children to swell the coffers of spiritual tyrants. Perpetual terrors of hell are sounded, until those hearers, whose hearts are impressionable, are habitually haunted by imaginary horrors, each one of which has to be bought off by a sort of hush-money paid to the priest, who has invented, adopted, or described them.

Such was the condition of England and France prior to the Reformation and the Revolution.

So long as men are debased by their guides, and allow themselves, with the docility of a well-trained dog, to be ruled, and so long as tyrannical flamens can wring an ever increasing tax from the people, there is probably nothing more in the breast of each than a vague feeling of dislike, or regret, at the existence of such things, which rarely receives utterance for fear of punishment. But as soon as a man, more bold than his neighbours, raises a standard of revolt, whose success appears to be secure, the bulk of the oppressed first sympathize with, yet fear to join him, then, after watching eagerly the course of events, and admiring the boldness of men more resolute than themselves, they timidly make common cause with the reformer, and, if circumstances favour them, they become enthusiastic. As the news of the mental revolt swells, the people, tired of oppression, rise in their might and sweep away the hierarchy, or compel it to abandon its pretensions. Buddha and Christ were such leaders as we here describe, and such was the course gone through by their followers. The timid Peter denying Jesus, and yet afterwards boldly preaching him up, is an example almost too well known to be quoted.

We are now in a position to inquire into the nature of Siddartha's teaching.

Premising that his doctrines were collected at least 200 years B. C., the first which we notice is one that he not only inculcated by language but enforced by his abiding example. He taught that the comforts and pleasures of this life act as fetters, to chain man's spirit to earth; that day by day they necessitate the cultivation of propensities and passions more or less bestial in their nature; and that as these strengthen, so the individual who possessed them would be born again, after his death, to some form of misery and woe in which he would have to atone for the human infirmities which he had not conquered. To escape from the possibility of such an event, Sakya counselled his disciples to wean themselves, as far as possible, from every sensual passion; to mortify the body by fasting, so as to make it more readily separable from the inner man; to renounce all comfort except that of doing good; and believing in a state of perfect future salvation.

A man, he taught, must abandon everything as valueless compared with the attainment of salvation or _nirvana_; he must be wholly dependent upon others for food and raiment; he must take no thought for the morrow, and live like a bird or lily, laying up no store; for certainly a disciple of Sakya ought not to undertake any trade or other means of gaining a livelihood, lest it should ensnare his spirit and tie it down to the grovelling things of earth.

This was the rule for the very faithful, the infirm believers had a more lenient code.

If we now turn to the doctrine said to have been taught by Jesus and his disciples, we shall find a close parallel between it and that of the Indian teacher. For example, John says (1 Epis. ii. 15,16) "Love not the world, neither the things that are in the world. If any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh and the lust of the eye, and the pride of life, is not of the Father but is of the world." Paul says (Rom. xii. 2) "Be not conformed to this world, but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God." James also says (ch. iv. 4) "Know ye not that the friendship of the world is enmity with God; whosoever, therefore, will be a friend of the world, is the enemy of God." Again, we find in Matthew xix., Mark x., and Luke xii., the story of a young man who was possessed of wealth, probably scarcely less than that of Sakya Muni, and whose life had been conscientiously conducted, according to the commandments which he knew, and who having heard of Jesus, came to ask him if there were a more certain way of salvation than the one he was in. To him the reply is,--"If thou wilt be perfect, go and sell that thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven, and come and follow me." In the verses, moreover, which follow, there is a remark from the same teacher to the effect, that "every one that hath forsaken houses, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or children, or lands, for my name's sake, shall receive an hundred fold, and shall inherit everlasting life."

Once again, we find an exact counterpart of Buddha's teaching in the sermon on the Mount, which is recorded in Matth. vi. 25-34--"I say unto you, take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat or what ye shall drink, nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment? Behold the fowls of the air, for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns, yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they?... Why take ye thought for raiment, consider the lilies of the field... if God so clothe the grass... shall he not much more clothe you? Therefore take no thought, saying, what shall we eat, or what shall we drink, or wherewithal shall we be clothed?... Take therefore no thought for the morrow... sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof." Other similar passages might readily be given, but the above suffice to demonstrate the Buddhistic teaching of the prophet of Nazareth.

Both start from the idea that death, disease, pain, and misery is the result of sin--and both imagine that sin consists in living and acting upon the natural wants, necessities, and propensities of human kind. Both imagine that to be natural is to be vile, and that salvation is to be attained by resisting every impulse which is common to mankind Man desires to eat when hungry--this is a weakness to be combated; a mother loves her babe--this must not be tolerated; a youth covets a damsel in marriage--this is a snare to draw both down to hell; celibacy must be enforced. The argument runs thus,--If any one enjoys life he is sure to fear death, and will certainly pay for his pleasures; but if any one has the resolution to pass his years on earth in misery like that of hell, he will be glad to die, and fearless of any place of torment; use has bred a habit in him and no torture can come amiss.

Some Christian author has ventured to assert "religion never was designed to make our pleasures less," but he was a conspicuous heretic. Buddha's doctrine was founded upon the assertion that life is always short, and that it is not worth a man's while to buy a few years of enjoyment with myriads of years of agony. Jesus preached that the Jews' time was short, for they, and most probably all the world besides, were to be burned up any day within the duration of the generation--what then was the use of laying up stores of grain, of buying fine clothes, and keeping wine to get mellow?

Both preachers were equally short sighted and absurd in their teaching, for if their disciples were to live upon alms, and all repented and adopted the doctrine, it is clear that all would starve together, and self immolation by hunger was repugnant to both prophets. If no one made clothes all must go naked, and indecency was forbidden. If no one was to lay up money, there would be no one to pay for work, yet toil was considered to be a duty. If every one was to live from hand to mouth, who would keep a calf until it became a heifer, or a lamb to become a sheep?

It is difficult to conceive that two individuals could have worked out such a scheme of salvation independently, and the minuteness of the resemblances induces me to believe that Jesus, possibly without knowing it, first adopted and then promulgated in Judea the doctrines of the Indian sage.

Following, again, the lead of St. Hilaire (_Le Bouddha, &c_, 1860, pp. 81, et seq.), we find that Siddartha taught 600 years B. C., that death and all the miseries of mankind were due to the passions, desires, and sins of man; that all this misery would cease in Nirvana (of which we shall speak by and by), and that the means to attain to this salvation is to keep the true faith; to have a correct judgment; to be truthful in all things, and to hold every false thing in abhorrence; always to act and to think with a pure and honest mind; to adopt a religious life, i.e., one that is in no respect worldly, not owing even subsistence to anything which might be tainted with sin; to practise a careful and earnest study of the law; to cultivate a good memory, so that all mistakes in conduct may be remembered if they have occurred, and be avoided in the future; and frequent meditation, i.e., an abstraction of the mind from self consciousness, a thinking of nothing, so as to approximate the soul to Nirvana. These were Buddha's fundamental verities. It is put more shortly thus,--"Practising no evil, advancing in the exercise of every virtue, purifying one's self in mind and will, this is indeed the doctrine of all the Buddhas." _Journal of Royal Asiatic Society_, vol. xix. p. 473.

We may once more stop to compare the teaching of Siddartha with that familiar to Christians. Paul says, for example (Rom. v. 12) "As by one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin; so death passed upon all men, for that all have sinned;" again, in chap, vi. 23, "the wages of sin is death;" again, in chap. vii. 5, "when we were in the flesh the motions of sins... did work in our members to bring forth fruit unto death;" and again, chap. viii. 6, "to be carnally minded is death; but to be spiritually minded is life and peace." We may next refer to what some call the fundamental teaching of Jesus, as enunciated in answer to the question of the young man "What shall I do that I may inherit eternal life?" Matthew xix., Mark x., "If thou wilt enter into life, keep the commandments. Thou shalt do no murder, thou shalt not commit adultery, thou shalt not steal, thou shalt not bear false witness, honour thy father and thy mother, and thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself." And when the young man asserted that he had done so, all that he was told to do in addition, was to sell his property, give the proceeds to the poor, and become a follower of Jesus, who had not where to lay his head, and to live upon the charity of other people. I must, however, notice in passing, that the teaching of Jesus is not by any means so uniform as that of Sakya, for we find the former here instructing a young man to do no murder, but at a subsequent period, that of the last supper, Jesus exhorts his disciples, and through them, possibly, the very man to whom he rehearsed the commandments, thus "He that hath no sword, let him sell his garment and buy one," (Luke xxii 36). Certainly a direct encouragement to homicide.

For the benefit of the Buddhists a short formula of faith has been framed, which is to this effect--"Tathâgata (another name of Sakya Muni), in the proper condition, has explained that our present state is produced by antecedent causes, and the great Sramana, or Ascetic (another cognomen of Siddartha), has told us how to avoid the effects of sin. The effects are pain and actual existence, having for their cause past sins; the cause is the production of suffering: the cessation of these effects is Nirvana, the teaching of Tathâgata, or of the great Sramana, is the way which leads to Nirvana." The Christian formula runs, "As in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive." To this we may compare a Nepaulese saying, "Arise, leave your possession, take up the law of Buddha, and break asunder the power of death."

In addition to the fundamental maxim given on the preceding page, Sakya Muni added many others, amongst them, "Thou shalt not kill, thou shalt not steal, thou shalt not commit adultery, thou shalt not lie, thou shalt not get drunk;" others are of lighter consequence--"thou shalt not eat out of due season, thou shalt not watch dances or theatrical representations, or listen to songs or music, thou shalt abstain from all ornamentation of dress, &c., and from perfume; thou shalt not have a large bed, nor ever take gold or silver; thou shalt remain inflexibly chaste."

To those who desired to become disciples and personal friends of Buddha, it was ordained that (a) They should only be clothed with rags taken from the cemeteries, or from heaps of refuse, or found on the high road. (b) That there should only be three of these vestments, and that each should be stitched by the wearer, and that they should be covered with a cloak of yellow wool (c) That the food should be as simple as possible--a rule adopted by Christian saints, but not by Bishops. (d) That all should live upon alms and offerings, which should be begged for, in perfect silence, from house to house, and placed in a vessel made of wood--a plan adopted by certain Christian mendicant friars. (e) That only one meal should be taken during the day--a rule to be found in some Christian monasteries. (f) That no aliments, even the most simple, should be taken after noon, the rest of the day after this period should be devoted to teaching and meditation. (g) The faithful should live in the wilderness or forest, and not in towns or villages. Hence Christian hermits lived in the deserts of the Thebaid. (h) They should only shelter themselves under the boughs and leaves of trees. (i) They should sit with the back supported only by the trunk chosen for refuge. (j) They should sleep sitting, and not lying down. (k) They should never change their sitting mat from the place where it was put first. (l) The disciples should unite together, at least upon one night in the month, to meditate amongst the tombs upon the instability of human things. Mendicity, chastity, and asceticism were essential parts of Sakya Muni's practice, and St. Hilaire (op. cit., p. 87) naively remarks that these certainly are not the means for making good citizens, though they may produce good saints.

We may notice, in passing, that the pious followers of Sramana (the one who mastered his passions) were very much more proper, in our eyes, than some of the Brahmins, from whom they seceded, inasmuch as the former wore sufficient garments to cover themselves decently, whilst the latter, whom the Greeks called "Gymnosophists," went without any more clothing than the horse or ass. It is also to be noticed that Siddartha provided a sort of code of laws to be observed by those who wished to adopt his method of salvation, without becoming altogether "religious." These consisted in the enforcement of chastity, purity, patience, courage, contemplation, and knowledge--these were, it was asserted, the transcendent virtues which would pass man across the river of death. They would not land him there in life, but whilst these were adopted as the rule of life, the aspirant was in the right way to attain "Nirvana."

The charity which Sakya Muni ordained was universal, extending even to what we call the lower animals, and one example is given in which a disciple cast himself into the sea to save a boat's crew in danger of death from a storm, whilst another tells of Buddha giving himself as food to a tigress, who had not sufficient milk for her young ones.

Again, the precept against "lying" included false witness, and all that we call "bad language," as well as trifling chat, called "badinage," "wit," and the like. Persons were not only to avoid wrong, but they were to cultivate every good habit, or what we designate each "Christian grace." It was inculcated, that beauty of language, or eloquence, pleasantness of voice, and a due respect to cadence should be studied, so as to make their teaching popular, a precept not much regarded amongst ordinary Christian divines. Beyond other things, humility was inculcated, not that which exists on the lips only, and is apparently compatible with the determined endeavour to exercise unlimited power, which has been conspicuous in the Papacy for a millennium at least, but that which conceals greatness and demonstrates littleness. Thus there is a legend of Buddha refusing, at the request of a king, to exhibit any miracle to convince his opponents, his answer being, "Great king, I do not teach the law to my hearers by saying to them, 'Go, oh you religious men! and before Brahmins and house-holders perform, by means of a supernatural power, miraculous things, which no other men can effect,' but I say to them, in teaching them the law, 'Live, oh ye pious ones, so as to conceal your good works, and to let your sins be seen.'"

At this point we pause once more to draw a parallel between Siddartha and Jesus, though, in the delineation of the doctrine of the latter, we shall see a discrepancy which appears to indicate two distinct authorships in the recorded story. We refer, in the first place, to Luke vi, wherein we find, v. 27, et seq., "Love your enemies, do good to them which hate you, bless them that curse you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and to him that smiteth thee on the one cheek offer also the other" (compare Matt. v. 39, 40). Again, Matt. vi. 3, "When thou doest alms, let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth," and in v. 6, "When thou prayest, enter into thy closet," &c.; v. 16, "When ye fast, be not, as the hypocrites, of a sad countenance." Side by side with this we may place the directions given in Matt, x., where we find that Jesus called his disciples unto him, and gave them "power against unclean spirits to cast them out, and to heal all manner of sickness and all manner of disease "--they were, moreover, "to cleanse the lepers and raise the dead," i.e.t the disciples were to perform miracles; but if they, in their wanderings and teachings, should be rejected, despised, or affronted, the apostles were to shake off the dust of their feet against the persecutors, being certain that condign punishment would fall upon the offenders.

It is curious that in the histories of the Indian and the Jew, there should be analogous discrepancies between records of their sayings and doings. Siddartha and Jesus are represented, each of them, as declining to perform miracles when asked or expected to do so. Nevertheless, in the same histories we find marvellous accounts of the wonders which they performed. We have seen the clashing reports of Buddha, the following reports of the son of Mary are equally discordant. To make the dissonance more striking, we place the passages in parallel columns.

At what time after the death of Jesus the miracles recorded of him were fabricated we can scarcely tell. If, with most critical scholars, we believe that John's Gospel was written by some Neoplatonic Greek, at least a century and a-half after the period alluded to, we must also believe, either that all the legends about the casting out of devils by the son of Mary were invented after the time when "John" lived, or else, which is probable, that the last evangelist gave no credit to them, if they did already exist; and if the good sense and superior knowledge of "John" led him to discredit the tale about the legion of devils, which left one man* to enter into about two thousand pigs, I do not see that other Christians are obliged to believe the legend. From considerations which we advanced in the articles Prophets, Prophecy, &c., in _Ancient Faiths_ (Vol. II., p. 515), and especially in the history of Barcochab, who was supposed to be the Messiah by some Jews in A.D. 131-5, we argued that new matter was certainly introduced into the story of Jesus told by Matthew, Mark, and John, as late as the era of that enthusiastic Hebrew leader. We noticed the doubts that existed in the minds of many early Christians as to whether this redoubtable warrior was not "the man" of whom the prophets spake. We may now still further notice that he professed to perform miracles, which appear to be thoroughly contemptible when weighed against those of the gospels. To our mind it is inconceivable that the followers of Mary's son could have been acquainted with the marvellous works attributed to Jesus in the gospels, and, yet be shaken by such a man as Barcochab. We notice, also, that not one "Epistle" writer refers to them--consequently, we believe that all the wondrous tales told of the prophet of Nazareth, must have been introduced after the time of Hadrian (in whose reign Barcochab was destroyed), and were fabricated by pious Christians, to prove that the Messiah, in whom they believed, was infinitely superior to that warrior whom others had for a time trusted. Both, to be sure, had been killed by the Romans, and thus both might seem upon a par, but if history could be cooked--and there is probably no single history existing which is strictly true--to show that the first performed a hundred times the wonderful works of the second, he would thus become greatly exalted. See especially Matt. xxiv. 24, in confirmation of this view. Be this as it may, there is, I understand, solid foundation for the assertion that the New Testament, such as we have it now, might have been composed, altered, curtailed, added to, remodelled, or otherwise fashioned, at any period between the years a.d. 50 and 300, after which change was difficult, though we cannot say impossible. A corresponding statement is true of the books which record the life and doctrines of Buddha.

* In Matthew viii. 30-32, we are told that there were two men who were possessed with the devils which subsequently entered the herd of swine;--in Mark v. 11-13, the spirits are represented as being concentrated in one person, and in Luke viii. 32-33, the tale appears in the same guise as in Mark--only the man is made to call himself "Legion," on account of the multitude of devils living inside him. In cases of this kind one need not be rigidly particular, for it signifies little whether the spirits were one thousand in one man or two thousand in two--the wonder is that spirits could talk--fly away from man to pig, or commit suicide in the bodies of the swine when they might have done the same thing in one or two men. It is clear from the miracle that certain devils change their habits when they take up their habitation in porcine instead of human beings.

At this period of our parallel we may profitably examine the New Testament, and ascertain whether we cannot extract from it a tolerably fair account of the life and teaching of Jesus, without including therein a single act of thaumaturgy. We fearlessly assert, not only that we can, but that the miracles are not an essential part of his doctrine. For example, we learn that Jesus was the son of a woman betrothed to a carpenter, who became pregnant ere yet the ceremony of marriage was gone through. Her affianced husband did not make her frailty an excuse for annulling the contract, possibly for a good, and to him a sufficient reason. He married the already fruitful Mary, and her child passed amongst the neighbours as being the son of Joseph. This we learn from Matt. xiii. 55, where we find the people saying, "Is not this the carpenter's son? is not his mother called Mary? and his brethren James, and Joses, and Simon, and Judas, and his sisters, are they not all with us?" a statement repeated in similar terms, Mark vi. 3. This short account is important, since it completely destroys the papal doctrine that Mary was "ever virgin," for she bore at least four other sons than her first born, and two daughters. At no period was Jesus regarded either by the family or by the neighbours as illegitimate, nor is there any reason to believe that Joseph looked upon him otherwise than as his own son. Indeed, in Luke ii. 42-48, the carpenter distinctly appears to act as if he recognized Jesus as his own offspring--in verse 48, Mary says, "Son, why hast thou thus dealt with us? behold thy father and I have sought thee sorrowing," asserting as plainly as words could speak, that Joseph had begotten Jesus. It is true that the youth replied, "Wist ye not that I must be about my father's business?" but the story adds the important information, that the couple did not understand the saying.

It is clear to us, that if the legend of the impregnation of Mary by the Holy Ghost, after that event had been previously announced to her, and if, as we are told in Matt. i. 20, Joseph had been informed by "the angel of the Lord" that the foetus in Mary's womb was begotten by the Holy Ghost, it would not have been possible for Joseph and his wife to have misunderstood the words of Jesus. The very wonder which they expressed demonstrates the belief of the parents that there was nothing unusual in the conception. The father Joseph knew that he had borne his share in the event, and Mary knew that she had not conversed with any other man; consequently, for her son to indicate another father than Joseph, naturally mystified her. We therefore cannot allow the assertion to pass, that the conception and birth of Jesus was in itself a miracle. But as we shall revert to the subject in a separate chapter, we will say no more about it here.

After living and working with his parents for some years, Jesus was attracted by the preaching of his cousin John, whose doctrines were essentially Buddhistic and Essenian. Like the Hindoos, he used water as an emblem of purification, and urged his hearers to repentance and good conduct. What motives urged John to become "the voice of one crying in the wilderness," we have no means of judging, but the gospel narratives tell us that he, like Jesus, believed in the almost immediate destruction of the world. His text was, "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand." Jesus adopted the view, and promulgated it more extensively. His text was the same as that of his cousin, but more expanded. "The kingdom of heaven means glory to the righteous, and everlasting life; misery and everlasting destruction to the wicked. The time is near, hasten to escape from the coming vengeance." The earnestness of Jesus, his acquaintance with the prophets, his self-denial and his constant kindness, endeared him to the common people. The same virtues had a like effect in the case of Buddha. Amongst villagers and poverty-stricken fishermen he soon won his way, and every one had some story to tell of him, which increased in wonder as it passed from mouth to ears, and from these to the tongue of the listeners. Those who know how an ordinary circumstance may gradually become described as miraculous, even in England, can well imagine how the miracles of Jesus and Siddartha were produced.

In time Jesus endeavoured to induce the magnates of Jerusalem to adopt his doctrine, and to trust in repentance for salvation rather than in sacrifice, but the enthusiast could not overcome the ritualists, and they at once began to weigh their power against the influence of Jesus upon the multitude. After a time the priests were convinced that supremacy rested with them, and the man who preached a religion of the heart, was sacrificed by the adherents of ceremonial. Such a fight is common, as we see around us. The Evangelicals and the Ritualists of to-day, resemble the followers of Jesus and of Moses. When the latter appeared in the guise of powerful Romanist rulers, they put down the former, but now when the former are the strongest, they endeavour to depress the latter.

After the death, or the withdrawal of Jesus from public life--for we have no belief in the legends of his resurrection--considering that his apparent decease was a prolonged fainting fit, for had he been dead blood would not have followed a spear wound as it did--the disciples of Jesus spread his fame largely. Whilst Jesus was with them they clung to him; when he was no more, each man became a preacher, and then Christianity spread until it met with Buddhism in Egypt, and thus became developed in a peculiar direction. Then came the gospels, which made Jesus a second Sakya. Although we can readily conceive that Jesus, like his paltry successor, Joe Smith, the Mormon, captivated the minds of hundreds without performing any supernatural deed, and that his "elders" vastly increased the number of those who believed in him, yet it is clear, that ancient and modern theologians were and are anxious to establish the reality of the thaumaturgy attributed to Jesus, that they may appeal to it to demonstrate that he was the son of God, an incarnation of a portion of the creative mind--"the word," or _logos_, having the same relationship to Jehovah, the "I Am," the Self-Existent One, as Buddha, "the understanding" had to "Brahma," The Supreme One.

Accepting this issue for the sake of argument, we affirm once again that, as the miracles of Sakya and of the son of Mary are equally unreliable, or equally true, Buddha was as much a true son of God as Christ was, or that Jesus was no more an incarnation of Jehovah, than Siddartha was of Brahma. Jehovah and Brahma being merely different names for the same great Being. That miracles are not necessary to the spread of a new faith, the history of modern Presbyterianism and Mormonism distinctly proves. For further remarks, we refer the reader to the article Miracle in the preceding volume. We will postpone to a subsequent page what we have to say respecting the asceticism of the Buddhists, and that which was prevalent in the early Christian church. For the present, we resume our account of Sakya Muni's teaching as described by St. Hilaire.

Founded upon his doctrine of absolute humility, he established the custom of confession amongst his apostles or disciples, and amongst those who venerated his teaching, though they did not' become his immediate followers. This confession was not that simply auricular one enforced by Ritualists, but it was made twice a month, at the new and the full moon, before the great Sramana and the congregation, in a clear voice. Powerful kings are reported to have followed this practice.

It will not require more than a minute's reflection to see that the Buddhistic system of confession was far superior--as regards the end in view--than that which has been adopted by Romanists and Ritualists. Sakya and James (ch. v. 16) advised the practice in question, that the sinner might be humiliated in his own eyes, and deterred from the necessity of having again to acknowledge a fall from virtue before a congregation of the faithful. Popes and Protestant Ritualists, on the contrary, use confession for the purpose of inquiring into the character of every penitent, and the practice is adopted by the sinner, not with the view of repentance, but to wipe out periodically a sin which is habitually renewed.

If confessions were made before a congregation, instead of to a priest in a closet, or some other secret spot, there would not then be current so many scandalous stories as there are--too true, alas, in many instances--respecting women who have been debauched under the guise of religion, and priests who have prostituted the ordinances of their church, until they have made them pander to vice, and act as seeds to produce immorality.

Though personally Tathâgata preached celibacy, he had not, like some of the so-called saints of Christianity, any feeling of disrespect towards family ties. He always spoke affectionately of his mother, though he never knew her, and the legends say that he endeavoured to convert her in heaven. His command that all his followers should honour their father and mother was repeatedly enforced, that being only second to the duty of learning, venerating, and keeping the law. It even went so high as to include endeavours to teach the parents if they were ignorant.

One of the main duties of every teacher appointed by Siddartha, was to go about preaching the law, and exhorting his hearers to learn and to obey it. But no one, on any account, was to introduce the persecuting element. No respect whatever was to be paid to caste, all being alike human before God. Buddha himself is described as a very striking preacher, charming his hearers by his clear and eloquent diction, astonishing them by his supernatural power, sometimes instructing the common folk with ingenious parables, and inciting them to emulation by telling what others had done. He referred to the sins which had been committed in former days by an ancient people, and how severely punished those who had committed them had been, or still were, and he even recorded his own faults, that others might learn to avoid them. He urged all his hearers to cultivate truth and reason, which is certainly not a Christian practice, and not blindly to obey their spiritual guides, as the modern faithful are taught to do. By making the practice of every virtue the sole means for attaining eternal salvation, he practically discouraged vice, but it does not appear that he endeavoured actively to denounce immorality, sin, or sinners. He did not, like many modern persons, "compound for sins they are inclined to, by damning those they have no mind to." It is distinctly declared that it was not necessary for ordinary followers of Buddha to become what is called "religious," or "to enter into religion," as friars, monks, &c. To those who preferred an ordinary mode of life, instructions were given, that they should cultivate charity, purity, patience, courage, contemplation, and knowledge. Indeed, we may assert that the precepts of Jesus, as recorded in Matthew v., vi, and viii, and in Luke iii. 7 to 14, are not essentially different from those propounded by Sakya Muni Neither the one nor the other ordered or even recommended all men to be celibate, all men to become poor, all soldiers to leave their profession--but both urged upon every one who wished for salvation, to be kind, pure, patient, courageous, thoughtful and eager after all knowledge. It would be well if those calling themselves Christians would endeavour more fully to understand that cultivating science is the same as advancing in the knowledge of God.

Some of the remarkable parables found in Buddhist books are very probably the original ones of Sakya; they are certainly ingeniously framed to illustrate his doctrine. Nor is there wanting, indeed, one in which there is an episode resembling the story of the thief upon the cross. It is of a lovely courtesan who falls deeply in love with a jeweller, young, and a devoted follower of Buddha, and solicits his company. To every message she sends him, he returns the answer "it is not time for you to see me." At length she commits a crime, and is sentenced to have ears, nose, hands, and feet cut off, and to be carried to the graveyard to die, leaving the cut off members at her ankles. At this period the young man visits her, to see the true nature of those joys which drown men in perdition; then he consoles the poor creature by teaching her the law; his discourse brings calm into her breast, and she dies in professing Buddhism with a certainty that she will rise again amongst the good.

We may mention, in passing, that there were female Buddhists as well as males, both being on the same footing. The law, as announced by Sakya, equally concerned and affected the two sexes.

Another and very interesting parable tells of a king who came before a Buddhist priest and his assembled hearers, to the number of 350, to confess his crimes, amongst others murder, and his resolution to avoid all faults in future, and Bhagavat (the teacher's name) at once remits, in conformity with the law, the faults of the king, which have thus been expiated before a numerous assembly of the faithful, a remarkable instance of remorse, repentance, confession, and remission of sin--some centuries before Jesus was born.

At length a powerful king, Asoka, was converted to the new faith, or came to the throne already a Buddhist, in the year b.c. 263, and reigned thirty-seven years, during which time he devoted himself to spreading the religion of his choice. He sent out a cloud of earnest missionaries who spread themselves over Hindostan, Ceylon, China, Japan, and Thibet. Indeed, they seem to have gone wherever there was means of locomotion, or a knowledge of the existence of a people. As the Greeks were then certainly trading with India, both by land and sea, it would be surprising if the Buddhist missionaries had not accompanied the merchant ships, or the overland convoys to Alexandria. But this subject, it is convenient for the present to postpone.

There are two points connected with the teaching of Sakya Muni to which many Christian writers have especially addressed their remarks, apparently with the view of rendering Buddha more or less contemptible, or at least of degrading him far below Jesus of Nazareth. It is asserted that Siddartha did not believe in a god, and that his Nirvana was nothing more than absolute annihilation. To these I am disposed to add, that the Buddhists were not taught to pray, nor did their founder practise the custom.

To my own mind, the assertion that Sakya did not believe in God is wholly unsupported. Nay, his whole scheme is built upon the belief that there are powers above which are capable of punishing mankind for their sins. It is true that these "gods" were not called Elohim, nor Jah, nor Jahveh, nor Jehovah, nor Adonai, nor Eliieh (I am), nor Baalim, nor Ashtoreth--yet, for "the son of Suddhodana" (another name for Sakya Muni, for he has almost as many, if not more than the western god), there was a supreme being called Brahma, or some other name representing the same idea as we entertain of the Omnipotent. Still further, in the life of Buddha, quoted by St. Hilaire (p. 9) we find the following as part of the thoughts of the young Siddartha--"The three worlds, the world of the gods, the world of the assours (the benighted ones, or, as we should call them, 'the devils ), and that of men, are all plagued by the occurrence of old age and disease." We do not, for we dare not assert that this opinion is identical with ours; but we are equally indisposed to say that the opinions current amongst ourselves are absolutely true.

Men living in future days, and whose minds are educated, will probably declare, "that the Christians of Europe and elsewhere, for nearly two thousand years, had no god but the devil They said he was good, but they painted him as one who rejoiced in pain, lamentation, mourning, and woe." Buddha preached that man suffered from the effects of his sins, and that unless he attained salvation, he would be punished everlastingly. The son of Mary, and all his followers, taught, and Christians still entertain the belief, that man suffers from the sin of a progenitor (assumed to be the parent of all mankind), and that each person will be tortured throughout eternity unless he is able to mollify his maker, who is also his judge. Both teachers had necessarily an idea of a power able to make laws for the conduct of human life, to ordain rewards for good behaviour, and to apportion punishment for offences, and yet who was sufficiently forgiving to cease from requital, "for a consideration," the bribe being invariably a bloody one. Jesus called this power "my Father," Siddartha called him Brahma, the Supreme one.

Jesus and his followers have asserted that the power of the son with "the Father" is so great, that the latter will conform to the former, nay, he even asserts his identity with the Supreme in the words "I and my father are one," (John x. 30). See also Acts iv. 12, and 1 Thess. v. 9, in which it is distinctly affirmed that Jesus is the sole means by which man can attain salvation, or, in other words, turn away the wrath of God and change it into love. But Jesus could only rise to the position of equal or prime favourite by a very sanguinary process, as we find from Heb. ix. 22, that there could be no remission of sin without shedding of blood. From the following verses, and from Heb. x. 19, we learn that it is by the sacrifice of himself that Jesus entered into his heavenly powers.

Can any one who depicts the gods of savages, of Grecians and others to whom human beings were immolated in hundreds, call such deities "devils," and then assert that the Jehovah, whom he extols as above all gods, is not painted by men in the same colours. Siddartha's god was not a sanguinary one, nor did Buddha always talk of shedding blood, or profess to give his disciples his own flesh to eat, and his blood to them, that they might all drink of it.

The way in which this Supreme One, Brahma, was painted at his time was accepted by Sakya as he found it. He no more questioned the accepted truths of Hindooism, than Jesus doubted about the absolute truth of the Hebrew scriptures. But, in his own mind, after he had contemplated deeply on the subject, he believed that the discovery which he had made of the way to Nirvana, universal knowledge, or whatever else Nirvana was, had raised him above Sakra Brahma, Mahesvara, and all the gods of the pantheon.

Instead of breaking into expressions respecting the insanity or the blasphemy of such an idea, let us school ourselves into calmness, and turn to our own New Testament and read over Philippians, chap, ii. vv. 5-11, "Let this mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus, who being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God, but made himself of no reputation, and took upon him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men, and being found in fashion as a man, he humbled himself, and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross: wherefore God hath highly exalted him, and given him a name which is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in heaven, and things in earth and things under the earth, and that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord to the glory of God the Father."

Still further, I have repeatedly heard Protestant Christian divines assert that Jesus was really "Lord of the world above," and I cannot see any greater insanity or blasphemy in the son of Suddodana believing that he was at least equal with God, than in the son of Mary asserting "I and my Father are one" (John x. 30), and when reproached for making himself thus equal with God, he is reported to have remonstrated with his auditors who accused him of blasphemy because he asserted himself to be the son of God. The creeds of the Anglican and Roman churches repeatedly declare the identity of Jesus with Jehovah, e.g., "equal to the Father as touching his godhead."

The natural rejoinder to this representation is the assertion by the Christian that he knows that Jesus of Nazareth really was what he represented himself, and he is sure that Sakya Muni was not; but, on the other hand, the Buddhist may say just the reverse with equal pertinacity. This argument, if such a name it really deserves, is so common amongst all careless religionists, that it deserves a few words in reply. It is based upon the very natural notion, "what I believe, must be true," and to an objector, the only answer is the question, "you don't fancy that I can be wrong, do you?" When two such persons as a Christian and a Mahometan met in days gone by, these were the only arguments used by each, and they were first of all enforced by such revilings as come naturally to the faithful--"hound of a Moslem"--"dog of a Christian," "you are a serpent"--"you are a viper," and the like; from words they came to blows, and the strongest arm was supposed to demonstrate the correctness of the victor's faith. If, instead of taking physical strength as a test of truth, we assume that a numerical preponderance on one side or another proves the correctness of the belief held by the greatest number, we come to the absurd conclusion that what is right to-day may be wrong to-morrow. Babylonians were once far more numerous than Jews, and Jews than Christians, to-day the last exceed vastly both the others. Now, there are more Buddhists in existence than true followers of Jesus, in the next century the proportion may be reversed.

Truth does not so fluctuate, and a philosopher who uses his reason will take up a different stand entirely, and affirm that a man cannot become God by meditation, fancy or assertion, nor yet by the consent or vote of millions of his fellow-men, and that the assumption that any individual must be, and is the begotten son of God, is on a par with the folly of the potentates who call themselves brothers of the sun and moon. Such absurdity and blasphemy are very common, nevertheless, and men believe that Jesus is God, because they have elected him to that elevated position by a general vote--or European plebiscite.

We now address ourselves to another important statement made by some writers upon the religion of Sakya Muni, to the effect that he taught annihilation to be the end most desirable for good men who have learned and practised the law. This view is held by St. Hilaire, who, in almost every other respect, has shown himself an historian rather favourable to Siddartha than otherwise, and who speaks with some regret of the conclusion which he feels obliged to draw. But he is opposed upon this point by a very great English or German authority, viz., Max Müller, who, in a lecture delivered before the general Meeting of the Association of German Philologists at Kiel, and which is to be found translated in Trubner's _American and Oriental Literary Record_, Oct. 16, 1869, distinctly declares his belief that the nihilism attributed to Buddha's teaching forms no part of his doctrine, and that it is wholly wrong to suppose that Nirvana signified annihilation.

When two such earnest inquirers differ, it is instructive to notice the reason why. This is to be found in the fact that the etymological signification of the word does signify "nothingness," or "extinction," but not, as Müller contends, annihilation of the individual, but a complete cessation of all pain and misery. The last quoted author shows that Siddartha used Nirvana as synonymous with Moksha, Nirvritti, and other words, all designating the highest state of spiritual liberty and bliss, but not annihilation. It seems to be perfectly clear that what was meant by Sakya is, that to the good who have embraced the means of salvation preached by him, the future world would be a haven of rest, in which all sorrow, suffering, and sin should be annihilated. But the teacher does not go beyond this, and descant upon the opposite conditions, and promise joys ineffable and full of glory. His followers believe that they will attain to immortality, and that they will be free from all such horrors as life brings with it. But the pleasures which they expect are negative.

Before we either pity or despise Siddartha for not giving his followers any idea of what we call Heaven, it would be well to endeavour to discover the true teaching of Jesus of Nazareth upon this point, and the ideas of his followers. We must also say a few words about his ideas of Hell. He clearly believed that there was a place in which those whose lives had been wicked would be punished after death by the devil and his angels--the place was one of outer darkness, where shall be weeping and wailing, and gnashing of teeth (Matt. viii. 12). In Matt. xiii. 42 this place of outer darkness is described as "a furnace of fire," and in Mark