would know to be false: the former would cite that beautiful Arya couplet, which was written at least three centuries before our era, and which pronounces the duty of a good man, even in the moment of his destruction, to consist not only in forgiving, but even in a desire of benefiting his destroyer, as the sandal tree, in the instant of its overthrow, sheds perfume on the axe which fells it; and the latter would triumph in repeating the verse of Sadi, who represents a return of good for good' as a slight reciprocity, but says to the virtuous man, confer benefits on him who has injured thee;' using an Arabic sentence, and a maxim apparently of the ancient Arabs. Nor would the Mussulmans fail to recite four distichs of Hafiz, who has illustrated that maxim with fanciful but elegant allusions::

'Learn from yon orient shell to love thy foe,

And store with pearls the hand that brings thee woe:

Free, like yon rock, from base vindictive pride,

Imblaze with gems the wrist that tears thy side:

Mark, where yon tree rewards the stony show'r
With fruit nectareous, or the balmy flow'r:
All nature calls aloud; Shall man do less,

Than heal the smiter, and the railer bless?'

We only stop for a moment to notice the expression, "If the conversion of the Pandits and Maulavis shall ever be attempted by Protestant missionaries!" It strikes upon the car like a sound all strange; but what an interesting comment might be made on the events that have taken place since it was written!

It would have been well if Budhism, in aiming at too much, had gone to the furthest limit of possible good; but that this has been accomplished no one can assert. Its inherent defects have prevented it from reaching the end it has seen in the distance, but has never been able to approach. How could it be otherwise, when man is left to his own unaided efforts in the great work of freeing himself from the defilement of evil! It is like the throwing of a pebble into the Ganges to arrest its mighty stream. The Budhist knows nothing of an atonement; he reels under the weight of his sin, but he cannot rid himself of the burden. The voice that promises him rest is only a sound; it has no living existence, no substantiality. In the wilderness to which he is driven no cross does he see, no river of blood, no fountain of life with the cheering words inscribed upon the rock that overhangs it, Whosoever will, let

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him come, and drink freely, and live!" He hears of salvation, but he discovers no Saviour. Thus mocked with delusive promises, his disappointment is severe; the best affections of his heart are destroyed; and if he still pursues the system, he is converted into a harmless being, silent, and full of abstract thought that seeks its own annihilation, so that even of thought there may be none.

XXIV. THE VOICE OF THE PAST.

It has long been known that monachism was rife in the east, some ages previous to its adoption in Europe; but the history of its origin was involved in the same obscurity as the source of the mighty streams upon the banks of which the first ascetics commenced the practice of their austerities. By some of the fathers it was thought that its most intense manifestation was peculiar to Christianity. "Who is there," asks Athanasius, "but our Lord and Saviour Christ that has not deemed this virtue (of virginity) to be utterly impracticable (or unattainable) among men; and yet he has so shown his divine power as to impel youths, as yet under age, to profess it, a virtue beyond law?" "None of the ancients, none before the time of Christ," says Chrysostom,

66 were able to addict

themselves to the ascetic practice of virginity." * But that these sentiments were utterly incorrect is abundantly proved by the facts recorded upon the preceding pages; unless the fathers intended simply to assert that the pretensions of the barbarians to purity were vain and unfounded.

It is not in my power to pass the veil that shrouds from observation the origin we wish to trace; but we are able, now, to make nearer approaches towards it than were possible before the history of Budhism was known. That Gótama Budha effected a great change in the social polity and religious institutions of the inhabitants of India cannot be denied; but how much of the system that bears his name was originally propounded by himself, or how much of that which he really propounded was the product of his own unaided intellect, will remain an unanswered problem to the end of time. It is maintained by the Budhists that he was entirely avrodidaktos. The wisdom that he manifested was the outbeaming

* Taylor's Ancient Christianity.

of a self-enkindled flame, not an inspiration from any exterior source; nor was it the result of any process of thought or reason. To whatever object he directed his intellectual vision, whether it were near or remote, whether past, present, or future, he saw it in a moment, intuitively, and yet in a manner the most absolutely perfect. Though the sramanas believe that there has been, and ever will be, an endless succession of Budhas, they maintain that previous to the manifestation of a Budha, all knowledge of the former Budhas, and of the doctrines they taught, is entirely lost, and that all we now know of the Budhas previous to Gótama has been discovered by the intuition of the sage and that of his disciples. By these unwarranted assumptions a mystery has been thrown around the real character of Gótama, which defeats the aim of the historian who would examine it by the canons of truth.

At the very onset of our researches, we meet with difficulties of the most formidable description, as there is little co-eval light from any other source than the sacred books of the Budhists; and these records abound so much with absurdities, that in many instances it would require the powers of a rahat to separate the true from the false. We may, however, collect from these venerated documents that there were both recluses and societies, communities, or schools, previous to the age of Gótama. But the recluses were not in communities, nor did the communities practise the austerities of the recluse. The originality of Gótama's system of discipline appears to have consisted in the more perfect combination of the two classes into one order, so that in this respect he rather resembled the Pachomius than the Anthony of the west. In the legends of the Budhists there are numerous allusions to other societies, consisting of

"The omniscience of Budha is not the knowledge of all things, but the power of knowing whatever he wishes to know. In opposition to other teachers, who deduce their doctrines from certain previously assumed principles, and who may err either in the data, or in the deductions from them, Budha affirms of himself that the complete field of truth is before him, that the eye of wisdom to perceive it was obtained by him when he became a Budha; and whatever he desires to know he perceives perfectly, and at one glance, without any reasoning process."-Rev. D. J. Gogerly, Ceylon Friend. The following extract is from P. Molinæus de Cognit. Dei, quoted by Howe, Bless. Right. cap. 6. "A man, conveniently placed in some eminent station, may possibly see, at one view, all the successive parts of a gliding stream; but he that sits by the water's side, not changing his place, sees the same parts, only because they succeed; and those that pass, make way for them that follow, to come under his eye: so doth a learned man describe the unsuccessive knowledge of God." I have some recollection of having seen a similar figure applied to the knowledge of Budha, but cannot at present refer to the passage.

men and women who were leagued together for some common purpose; but in those instances in which religion is concerned there appears to be little more than the usual bond between the master and his disciple; and whenever we see evidences of a closer union the character of the association appears to be collegiate and not coenobite, philosophical and not religious. The tirttakas were the most formidable rivals of Gótama; but we are not sufficiently acquainted with the facts of their history to decide in what degree their discipline approached to the regularity of a monastic order.

Further researches may cause these conclusions to be modified. But if it be so, if it be proved that there were other monastic orders in existence, and that Gótama was not the institutor of the system, it will place in a more striking view the greatness of his genius, in having established an order that has long survived all contemporaneous systems; and that now, more than two thousand years after its promulgation, excercises a potent influence over many millions of the human race, in regions at a considerable distance from the source of its dissemination. No philosopher of Greece was able to secure for his sect so decided a pre-eminence; and although in an age of darkness Aristotle maintained a paramount sway in the halls of the schoolmen, it was only as an instrumentality by which mistaken men hoped to illustrate more clearly the system that had emanated from Israel.

The practice of austerities is so interwoven with Brahmanism, under all the phases it has assumed, that we cannot realise its existence apart from the principles of the ascetic. At an early period of the present era of manifestation, Dhruva, the son of Uttánapáda, the son of Menu Swayambhuva, who was "born of, and one with, Brahma," began to perform penance, as enjoined by the sages, on the banks of the Yamuna. "Whilst his mind was wholly absorbed in meditation, the mighty Hari, identical with all natures (took possession of his heart). Vishnu being thus present in his mind, the earth, the supporter of elemental life, could not sustain the weight of the ascetic. As he stood upon his left foot, one hemisphere bent beneath him; and when he stood upon his right, the other half of the earth sank down. When he touched the earth with his toes, it shook with all its mountains, and the rivers and the seas were troubled, and the gods partook of the universal agitation.

"The celestials called Yámas, being excessively alarmed, then

took counsel with Indra how they should interrupt the devout exercises of Dhruva; and the divine beings termed Kushmándas, in company with their king, commenced anxious efforts to distract his meditations. One, assuming the semblance of his mother Suníti, stood weeping before him, and calling in tender accents, 'My son, my son, desist from destroying thy strength by this fearful penance. I have gained thee, my son, after much anxious hope; thou canst not have the cruelty to quit me, helpless, alone, and unprotected, on account of the unkindness of my rival. Thou art my only refuge; I have no hope but thou. What hast thou, a child but five years old, to do with rigorous penance? Desist from such fearful practices, that yield no beneficial fruit. First comes the season of youthful pastime; and when that is over, it is the time for study; then succeeds the period of worldly enjoyments; and lastly, that of austere devotion. This is thy season of pastime, my child. Hast thou engaged in these practices to put an end to existence? Thy chief duty is love for me; duties are according to time of life. Lose not thyself in bewildering error; desist from such unrighteous actions. If not, if thou wilt not desist from these austerities, I will terminate my life before thee.'

"But Dhruva, being wholly intent on seeing Vishnu, beheld not his mother weeping in his presence, and calling upon him; and the illusion, crying out, Fly, fly, my child, the hideous spirits of ill are crowding into this dreadful forest with uplifted weapons,' quickly disappeared. Then advanced frightful rakshásas, wielding terrible arms, and with countenances emitting fiery flame; and nocturnal fiends thronged around the prince, uttering fearful noises, and whirling and tossing their threatening weapons. Hundreds of jackals, from whose mouths gushed flame, as they devoured their prey, were howling around, to appal the boy, wholly engrossed by meditation. The goblins called out, Kill him, kill him; cut him to pieces; eat him, eat him ;' and monsters with the faces of camels and crocodiles and lions, roared and yelled with horrible cries, to terrify the prince. But all these uncouth speeches, appalling cries, and threatening weapons, made no impression upon his senses, whose mind was completely intent on Govinda. The son of the monarch of the earth, engrossed by one only idea, beheld uninterruptedly Vishnu seated in his soul, and saw no other object.*

*This narrative would suit the history of almost any recluse, in any age. If, apart from the influence of the cross, all men are ever to be made one, it must be by asceticism, as no other principle or prejudice can at all compete with it in its powers of assimilation.