The Four Presaging Tokens.
Soothsayers were consulted by King Suddhodana.
They pronounced the following:—
"The young boy will, without doubt, be either a
king of kings, or a great Buddha. If he is destined
to be a great Buddha, four presaging tokens will
make his mission plain. He will see—
"1. An old man.
"2. A sick man.
"3. A corpse.
"4. A holy recluse.
"If he fails to see these four presaging tokens of an
avatâra, he will be simply a Chakravartin" (king of
earthly kings).
King Suddhodana, who was a trifle worldly, was
very much comforted by the last prediction of the
soothsayers. He thought in his heart, It will be an
easy thing to keep these four presaging tokens from
the young prince. So he gave orders that three
magnificent palaces should at once be built—the
Palace of Spring, the Palace of Summer, the Palace
of Winter. These palaces, as we learn from the "Lalita
Vistara," were the most beautiful palaces ever conceived
on earth. Indeed, they were quite able to cope
in splendour with Vaijayanta, the immortal palace of
Indra himself. Costly pavilions were built out in all
directions, with ornamented porticoes and burnished
doors. Turrets and pinnacles soared into the sky.
Dainty little windows gave light to the rich apartments.
Galleries, balustrades, and delicate trellis-work
were abundant everywhere. A thousand bells
tinkled on each roof. We seem to have the lacquered
Chinese edifices of the pattern which architects believe
to have flourished in early India. The gardens of
these fine palaces rivalled the chess-board in the rectangular
exactitude of their parterres and trellis-work
bowers. Cool lakes nursed on their calm bosoms
storks and cranes, wild geese and tame swans; ducks,
also, as parti-coloured as the white, red, and blue
lotuses amongst which they swam. Bending to these
lakes were bowery trees—the champak, the acacia
serisha, and the beautiful asoka tree with its orange-scarlet
flowers. Above rustled the mimosa, the fan-palm,
and the feathery pippala, Buddha's tree. The
air was heavy with the strong scent of the tuberose
and the Arabian jasmine.
It must be mentioned that strong ramparts were
prepared round the palaces of Kapilavastu, to keep
out all old men, sick men, and recluses, and, I must
add, to keep in the prince.
And a more potent safeguard still was designed.
When the prince was old enough to marry, his palace
was deluged with beautiful women. He revelled in
the "five dusts," as the Chinese version puts it. But
a shock was preparing for King Suddhodana.
This is how the matter came about. The king had
prepared a garden even more beautiful than the
garden of the Palace of Summer. A soothsayer had
told him that if he could succeed in showing the
prince this garden, the prince would be content to
remain in it with his wives for ever. No task seemed
easier than this, so it was arranged that on a certain
day the prince should be driven thither in his chariot.
But, of course, immense precautions had to be taken
to keep all old men and sick men and corpses from
his sight. Quite an army of soldiers were told off for
this duty, and the city was decked with flags. The
path of the prince was strewn with flowers and scents,
and adorned with vases of the rich kadali plant.
Above were costly hangings and garlands, and
pagodas of bells.
But, lo and behold! as the prince was driving along,
plump under the wheels of his chariot, and before the
very noses of the silken nobles and the warriors with
javelins and shields, he saw an unusual sight. This
was an old man, very decrepit and very broken.
The veins and nerves of his body were swollen and
prominent; his teeth chattered; he was wrinkled,
bald, and his few remaining hairs were of dazzling
whiteness; he was bent very nearly double, and
tottered feebly along, supported by a stick.
"What is this, O coachman?" said the prince.
"A man with his blood all dried up, and his muscles
glued to his body! His head is white; his teeth
knock together; he is scarcely able to move along,
even with the aid of that stick!"
"Prince," said the coachman, "this is Old Age.
This man's senses are dulled; suffering has destroyed
his spirit; he is contemned by his neighbours. Unable
to help himself, he has been abandoned in this
forest."
"Is this a peculiarity of his family?" demanded
the prince, "or is it the law of the world? Tell me
quickly."
"Prince," said the coachman, "it is neither a law of
his family, nor a law of the kingdom. In every
being youth is conquered by age. Your own father
and mother and all your relations will end in old age.
There is no other issue to humanity."
"Then youth is blind and ignorant," said the prince,
"and sees not the future. If this body is to be the
abode of old age, what have I to do with pleasure
and its intoxications? Turn round the chariot, and
drive me back to the palace!"
Consternation was in the minds of all the courtiers
at this untoward occurrence; but the odd circumstance
of all was that no one was ever able to bring
to condign punishment the miserable author of
the mischief. The old man could never be found.
King Suddhodana was at first quite beside himself
with tribulation. Soldiers were summoned from the
distant provinces, and a cordon of detachments
thrown out to a distance of four miles in each
direction, to keep the other presaging tokens from
the prince. By and by the king became a little
more quieted. A ridiculous accident had interfered
with his plans: "If my son could see the Garden of
Happiness he never would become a hermit." The
king determined that another attempt should be
made. But this time the precautions were doubled.
On the first occasion the prince left the Palace of
Summer by the eastern gate. The second expedition
was through the southern gate.
But another untoward event occurred. As the
prince was driving along in his chariot, suddenly he
saw close to him a man emaciated, ill, loathsome,
burning with fever. Companionless, uncared for,
he tottered along, breathing with extreme difficulty.
"Coachman," said the prince, "what is this man,
livid and loathsome in body, whose senses are dulled,
and whose limbs are withered? His stomach is
oppressing him; he is covered with filth. Scarcely
can he draw the breath of life!"
"Prince," said the coachman, "this is Sickness.
This poor man is attacked with a grievous malady.
Strength and comfort have shunned him. He is
friendless, hopeless, without a country, without an
asylum. The fear of death is before his eyes."
"If the health of man," said Buddha, "is but the
sport of a dream, and the fear of coming evils can
put on so loathsome a shape, how can the wise man,
who has seen what life really means, indulge in its
vain delights? Turn back, coachman, and drive me
to the palace!"
The angry king, when he heard what had occurred,
gave orders that the sick man should be seized and
punished, but although a price was placed on his
head, and he was searched for far and wide, he could
never be caught. A clue to this is furnished by a
passage in the "Lalita Vistara." The sick man was in
reality one of the Spirits of the Pure Abode, masquerading
in sores and spasms. These Spirits of the Pure
Abode are also called the Buddhas of the Past, in many
passages. The answers of the coachman were due to
their inspiration.
It would almost seem as if some influence, malefic
or otherwise, was stirring the good King Suddhodana.
Unmoved by failure, he urged the prince to a third
effort. The chariot this time was to set out by the
western gate. Greater precautions than ever were
adopted. The chain of guards was posted at least
twelve miles off from the Palace of Summer. But the
Buddhas of the Past again arrested the prince. His
chariot was suddenly crossed by a phantom funeral
procession. A phantom corpse, smeared with the
orthodox mud, and spread with a sheet, was carried
on a bier. Phantom women wailed, and phantom
musicians played on the drum and the Indian flute.
No doubt also, phantom Brahmins chanted hymns to
Jatavedas, to bear away the immortal part of the dead
man to the home of the Pitris.
"What is this?" said the prince. "Why do these
women beat their breast and tear their hair? Why
do these good folks cover their heads with the dust of
the ground? And that strange form upon its litter,
wherefore is it so rigid?"
"Prince," said the charioteer, "this is Death! Yon
form, pale and stiffened, can never again walk and
move. Its owner has gone to the unknown caverns
of Yama. His father, his mother, his child, his wife
cry out to him, but he cannot hear."
Buddha was sad.
"Woe be to youth, which is the sport of age! Woe
be to health, which is the sport of many maladies!
Woe be to life, which is as a breath! Woe be to the
idle pleasures which debauch humanity! But for the
'five aggregations' there would be no age, sickness,
nor death. Go back to the city. I must compass the
deliverance."
A fourth time the prince was urged by his father
to visit the Garden of Happiness. The chain of
guards this time was sixteen miles away. The exit
was by the northern gate. But suddenly a calm man
of gentle mien, wearing an ochre-red cowl, was seen
in the roadway.
"Who is this," said the prince, "rapt, gentle, peaceful
in mien? He looks as if his mind were far away
elsewhere. He carries a bowl in his hand."
"Prince, this is the New Life," said the charioteer.
"That man is of those whose thoughts are fixed on
the eternal Brahma [Brahmacharin]. He seeks the
divine voice. He seeks the divine vision. He carries
the alms-bowl of the holy beggar [bhikshu]. His
mind is calm, because the gross lures of the lower life
can vex it no more."
"Such a life I covet," said the prince. "The lusts
of man are like the sea-water—they mock man's
thirst instead of quenching it. I will seek the divine
vision, and give immortality to man!"
King Suddhodana was beside himself. He placed
five hundred corseleted Sakyas at every gate of the
Palace of Summer. Chains of sentries were round
the walls, which were raised and strengthened. A
phalanx of loving wives, armed with javelins, was
posted round the prince's bed to "narrowly watch"
him. The king ordered also all the allurements of
sense to be constantly presented to the prince.
"Let the women of the zenana cease not for an
instant their concerts and mirth and sports. Let
them shine in silks and sparkle in diamonds and
emeralds."
The allegory is in reality a great battle between
two camps—the denizens of the Kâmaloca, or the
Domains of Appetite, and the denizens of the
Brahmaloca, the Domains of Pure Spirit. The latter
are unseen, but not unfelt.
For one day, when the prince reclined on a silken
couch listening to the sweet crooning of four or five
brown-skinned, large-eyed Indian girls, his eyes
suddenly assumed a dazed and absorbed look, and
the rich hangings and garlands and intricate trellis-work
of the golden apartment were still present, but
dim to his mind. And music and voices, more sweet
than he had ever listened to, seemed faintly to reach
him. I will write down some of the verses.
"Mighty prop of humanity
March in the pathway of the Rishis of old,
Go forth from this city!
Upon this desolate earth,
When thou hast acquired the priceless knowledge of the Jinas,
When thou hast become a perfect Buddha,
Give to all flesh the baptism (river) of the kingdom of Righteousness,
Thou who once didst sacrifice thy feet, thy hands, thy precious
body, and all thy riches for the world,
Thou whose life is pure, save flesh from its miseries!
In the presence of reviling be patient, O conqueror of self!
Lord of those who possess two feet, go forth on thy mission!
Conquer the evil one and his army."
In the end the Buddhas of the Past triumph. They
persuade Buddha to flee away from his cloying pleasures
and become a Yogi.
"THEN WAS JESUS LED UP BY THE SPIRIT INTO THE
WILDERNESS, TO BE TEMPTED OF THE DEVIL."
Comfortable dowagers driving to church three times
on Sunday would be astonished to learn that the
essence of Christianity is in this passage. Its meaning
has quite passed away from Protestantism, almost
from Christendom. The "Lalita Vistara" fully shows
what that meaning is. Without Buddhism it would be
lost. Jesus was an Essene, and the Essene, like the
Indian Yogi, sought to obtain divine union and the
"gifts of the Spirit" by solitary reverie in retired
spots. In what is called the "Monastery of our Lord"
on the Quarantania, a cell is shown with rude frescoes
of Jesus and Satan. There, according to tradition,
the demoniac hauntings that all mystics speak of
occurred.
"I HAVE NEED TO BE BAPTISED OF THEE."
A novice in Yoga has a guru, or teacher. Buddha,
in riding away from the palace by and by reached a
jungle near Vaisalî. He at once put himself under a
Brahmin Yogi named Arâta Kâlâma, but his spiritual
insight developed so rapidly that in a short time the
Yogi offered to Buddha, the arghya, the offering of
rice, flowers, sesamun, etc., that the humble novice
usually presents to his instructor, and asked him to
teach instead of learning. (Foucaux, "Lalita Vistara,"
p. 228.)
THIRTY YEARS OF AGE.
M. Ernest de Bunsen, in his work, "The Angel
Messiah," says that Buddha, like Christ, commenced
preaching at thirty years of age. He certainly must
have preached at Vaisalî, for five young men became
his disciples there, and exhorted him to go on with
his teaching. ("Lalita Vistara," p. 236.) He was
twenty-nine when he left the palace, therefore he
might well have preached at thirty. He did not turn
the wheel of the law until after a six years' meditation
under the Tree of Knowledge.
BAPTISM.
The Buddhist rite of baptism finds its sanction in
two incidents in the Buddhist scriptures. In the
first, Buddha bathes in the holy river, and Mâra, the
evil spirit, tries to prevent him from emerging. In
the second, angels administer the holy rite (Abhisheka).
"AND WHEN HE HAD FASTED FORTY DAYS AND FORTY
NIGHTS."
Buddha, immediately previous to his great encounter
with Mâra, the tempter, fasted forty-nine
days and nights. ("Chinese Life," by Wung Puh.)
"COMMAND THAT THESE STONES BE MADE BREAD."
The first temptation of Buddha, when Mâra assailed
him under the bo tree, is precisely similar to that of
Jesus. His long fast had very nearly killed him.
"Sweet creature, you are at the point of death. Sacrifice
food." This meant, eat a portion to save your
life.
"AGAIN THE DEVIL TAKETH HIM UP INTO AN EXCEEDING
HIGH MOUNTAIN," ETC.
The second temptation of Mâra is also like one of
Satan's. The tempter, by a miracle, shows Buddha
the glorious city of Kapilavastu, twisting the earth
round like the "wheel of a potter" to do this. He
offers to make him a mighty king of kings (Chakravartin)
in seven days. (Bigandet, p. 65.)
THE THIRD TEMPTATION.
Jewish prudery has quite marred the third temptation.
From the days of Krishna and the phantom
naked woman, Kotavî, to the days of St. Anthony
and St. Jerome, or even to the days of mediæval
monasteries with their incubi and succubi, sex temptations
have been a prominent feature of the fasting
ascetic's visions. The daughters of Mâra, the tempter,
in exquisite forms, now come round Buddha. In the
end he converts these pretty ladies, and converts and
baptises Mâra himself.
"AND ANGELS CAME AND MINISTERED UNTO HIM."
After his conflict with Mâra, angels come to greet
him.
"GLAD TIDINGS OF GREAT JOY."
Buddha, on vanquishing Mâra, left Buddha Gaya for
the deer forest of Benares. There he began to preach.
His doctrine is called Subha Shita (glad tidings).
(See Rajendra L. Mitra "N. Buddhist Lit.," p. 29.)
"BEHOLD A GLUTTONOUS PERSON!"
Five disciples who left him when he gave over the
rigid fasts of the Brahmins, called out on seeing him
in the deer forest, "Behold a gluttonous person!"
(relaché et gourmand).
"FOLLOW ME."
Almost his first converts were thirty profligate
young men, whom he met sporting with lemans in the
Kappasya jungle. "He received them," says Professor
Rhys Davids, "into the order, with the formula,
'Follow Me.'" ("Birth Stories," p. 114.)
THE TWELVE GREAT DISCIPLES.
"Except in my religion, the twelve great disciples
are not to be found." (Bigandet, p. 301.)
"THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED."
One disciple was called Upatishya (the beloved
disciple). In a former existence, he and Maudgalyâyana
had prayed that they might sit, the one on the
right hand and the other on the left. Buddha granted
this prayer. The other disciples murmured much.
(Bigandet, p. 153.)
"GO YE INTO ALL THE WORLD."
From Benares Buddha sent forth the sixty-one
disciples. "Go ye forth," he said, "and preach
Dharma, no two disciples going the same way."
(Bigandet, p. 126.)
"THE SAME CAME TO JESUS BY NIGHT."
Professor Rhys Davids points out that Yâsas, a
young rich man, came to Buddha by night for fear of
his rich relations.
PAX VOBISCUM.
On one point I have been a little puzzled. The
password of the Buddhist Wanderers was Sadhu!
which does not seem to correspond with the "Pax
Vobiscum!" (Matt. x. 13) of Christ's disciples. But I
have just come across a passage in Renan ("Les
Apôtres," p. 22) which shows that the Hebrew word
was Schalom! (bonheur!) This is almost a literal
translation of Sadhu!
Burnouf says that by preaching and miracle Buddha's
religion was established. In point of fact it
was the first universal religion. He invented the
preacher and the missionary.
"A NEW COMMANDMENT GIVE I YOU, THAT YE LOVE
ONE ANOTHER."
"By love alone can we conquer wrath. By good
alone can we conquer evil. The whole world dreads
violence. All men tremble in the presence of death.
Do to others that which ye would have them do to
you. Kill not. Cause no death." ("Sûtra of Forty-two
Sections," v. 129.)
"Say no harsh words to thy neighbour. He will
reply to thee in the same tone." (Ibid. v. 133.)
"'I am injured and provoked, I have been beaten
and plundered!' They who speak thus will never
cease to hate." (Ibid. v. 4, 5.)
"That which can cause hate to cease in the world
is not hate, but the absence of hate."
"If, like a trumpet trodden on in battle, thou complainest
not, thou has attained Nirvâna."
"Silently shall I endure abuse, as the war-elephant
receives the shaft of the bowman."
"The awakened man goes not on revenge, but
rewards with kindness the very being who has injured
him, as the sandal tree scents the axe of the
woodman who fells it."
THE BEATITUDES.
The Buddhists, like the Christians, have got their
Beatitudes. They are plainly arranged for chant and
response in the temples. It is to be noted that the
Christian Beatitudes were a portion of the early
Christian ritual.
"1 Many angels and men
Have held various things blessings.
When they were yearning for the inner wisdom.
Do thou declare to us the chief good.
"2 Not to serve the foolish,
But to serve the spiritual;
To honour those worthy of honour,—
This is the greatest blessing.
"3 To dwell in a spot that befits one's condition,
To think of the effect of one's deeds,
To guide the behaviour aright,—
This is the greatest blessing.
"4 Much insight and education,
Self-control and pleasant speech,
And whatever word be well spoken,—
This is the greatest blessing.
"5 To support father and mother,
To cherish wife and child,
To follow a peaceful calling,—
This is the greatest blessing.
"6 To bestow alms and live righteously
To give help to kindred,
Deeds which cannot be blamed,—
These are the greatest blessing.
"7 To abhor and cease from sin,
Abstinence from strong drink,
Not to be weary in well-doing,—
These are the greatest blessing.
"8 Reverence and lowliness,
Contentment and gratitude,
The hearing of Dharma at due seasons,—
This is the greatest blessing.
"9 To be long-suffering and meek,
To associate with the tranquil,
Religious talk at due seasons,—
This is the greatest blessing.
"10 Self-restraint and purity,
The knowledge of noble truths,
The attainment of Nirvâna,—
This is the greatest blessing."
THE ONE THING NEEDFUL.
Certain subtle questions were proposed to Buddha,
such as: What will best conquer the evil passions of
man? What is the most savoury gift for the alms-bowl
of the mendicant? Where is true happiness to
be found? Buddha replied to them all with one
word, Dharma (the heavenly life). (Bigandet, p.
225.)
"WHOSOEVER SHALL SMITE THEE ON THY RIGHT CHEEK
OFFER HIM THE OTHER ALSO."
A merchant from Sûnaparanta having joined
Buddha's society, was desirous of preaching to his
relations, and is said to have asked the permission of
the master so to do.
"The people of Sûnaparanta," said Buddha, "are
exceedingly violent; if they revile you what will you
do?"
"I will make no reply," said the mendicant.
"And if they strike you?"
"I will not strike in return," said the mendicant.
"And if they kill you?"
"Death," said the missionary, "is no evil in itself.
Many even desire it to escape from the vanities of
life." (Bigandet, p. 216.)
BUDDHA'S THIRD COMMANDMENT.
"Commit no adultery." Commentary by Buddha:
"This law is broken by even looking at the wife of
another with a lustful mind." (Buddhaghosa's "Parables,"
by Max Müller and Rogers, p. 153.)
THE SOWER.
It is recorded that Buddha once stood beside the
ploughman Kasibhâradvaja, who reproved him for his
idleness. Buddha answered thus:—"I, too, plough
and sow, and from my ploughing and sowing I reap
immortal fruit. My field is religion. The weeds that
I pluck up are the passions of cleaving to this life.
My plough is wisdom, my seed purity." ("Hardy
Manual," p. 215.)
On another occasion he described almsgiving as
being like "good seed sown on a good soil that yields
an abundance of fruits. But alms given to those
who are yet under the tyrannical yoke of the passions,
are like a seed deposited in a bad soil. The passions
of the receiver of the alms, choke, as it were, the
growth of merits." (Bigandet, p. 211.)
"NOT THAT WHICH GOETH INTO THE MOUTH DEFILETH
A MAN."
In the "Sutta Nipâta," chap. ii., is a discourse on
the food that defiles a man (Âmaghanda). Therein it
is explained at some length that the food that is
eaten cannot defile a man, but "destroying living
beings, killing, cutting, binding, stealing, falsehood,
adultery, evil thoughts, murder,"—this defiles a man,
not the eating of flesh.
"WHERE YOUR TREASURE IS."
"A man," says Buddha, "buries a treasure in a
deep pit, which lying concealed therein day after day
profits him nothing, but there is a treasure of charity,
piety, temperance, soberness, a treasure secure, impregnable,
that cannot pass away, a treasure that no
thief can steal. Let the wise man practise Dharma.
This is a treasure that follows him after death."
("Khuddaka Pâtha," p. 13.)
THE HOUSE ON THE SAND.
"It [the seen world] is like a city of sand. Its
foundation cannot endure." ("Lalita Vistara," p. 172.)
BLIND GUIDES.
"Who is not freed cannot free others. The blind
cannot guide in the way." (Ibid. p. 179.)
"AS YE SOW, SO SHALL YE REAP."
"As men sow, thus shall they reap." ("Ta-chwang-yan-king-lun,"
sermon 57.)
"A CUP OF COLD WATER TO ONE OF THESE LITTLE
ONES."
"Whosoever piously bestows a little water shall receive
an ocean in return." ("Ta-chwang-yan-king-lun,"
sermon 20).
"BE NOT WEARY IN WELL-DOING."
"Not to be weary in well-doing." ("Mahâmangala
Sutta," ver. 7.)
"GIVE TO HIM THAT ASKETH."
"Give to him that asketh, even though it be but a
little." ("Udânavarga," ch. xx. ver. 15.)
"DO UNTO OTHERS," ETC.
"With pure thoughts and fulness of love I will do
towards others what I do for myself." ("Lalita
Vistara," ch. v.)
"PREPARE YE THE WAY OF THE LORD!"
"Buddha's triumphant entry into Râjagriha (the
"City of the King") has been compared to Christ's
entry into Jerusalem. Both, probably, never occurred,
and only symbolise the advent of a divine Being to
earth. It is recorded in the Buddhist scriptures that
on these occasions a "Precursor of Buddha" always
appears. (Bigandet, p. 147.)
"WHO DID SIN, THIS MAN OR HIS PARENTS, THAT HE
WAS BORN BLIND?" (John ix. 3.)
Professor Kellogg, in his work entitled "The Light
of Asia and the Light of the World," condemns
Buddhism in nearly all its tenets. But he is especially
emphatic in the matter of the metempsychosis.
The poor and hopeless Buddhist has to begin again
and again "the weary round of birth and death,"
whilst the righteous Christians go at once into life
eternal.
Now it seems to me that this is an example of the
danger of contrasting two historical characters when
we have a strong sympathy for the one and a strong
prejudice against the other. Professor Kellogg has
conjured up a Jesus with nineteenth century ideas,
and a Buddha who is made responsible for all the
fancies that were in the world B.C. 500. Professor
Kellogg is a professor of an American university, and
as such must know that the doctrine of the gilgal
(the Jewish name for the metempsychosis) was as
universal in Palestine A.D. 30, as it was in Râjagriha
B.C. 500. An able writer in the Church Quarterly
Review of October, 1885, maintains that the Jews
brought it from Babylon. Dr. Ginsburg, in his work
on the "Kabbalah," shows that the doctrine continued
to be held by Jews as late as the ninth century of our
era. He shows, too, that St. Jerome has recorded
that it was "propounded amongst the early Christians
as an esoteric and traditional doctrine."
The author of the article in the Church Quarterly
Review, in proof of its existence, adduces the question
put by the disciples of Christ in reference to the man
that was born blind. And if it was considered that a
man could be born blind as a punishment for sin, that
sin must have been plainly committed before his birth.
Oddly enough, in the "White Lotus of Dharma"
there is an account of the healing of a blind man,
"Because of the sinful conduct of the man [in a
former birth] this malady has risen."
But a still more striking instance is given in the
case of the man sick with the palsy. (Luke v. 18.)
The Jews believed, with modern Orientals, that grave
diseases like paralysis were due, not to physical causes
in this life, but to moral causes in previous lives.
And if the account of the cure of the paralytic is to be
considered historical, it is quite clear that this was
Christ's idea when He cured the man, for He distinctly
announced that the cure was affected not by any
physical processes, but by annulling the "sins" which
were the cause of his malady.
Traces of the metempsychosis idea still exist in
Catholic Christianity. The doctrine of original sin is
said by some writers to be a modification of it. Certainly
the fancy that the works of supererogation of
their saints can be transferred to others is the
Buddhist idea of good karma, which is transferable
in a similar manner.
"IF THE BLIND LEAD THE BLIND, BOTH SHALL FALL
INTO THE DITCH." (Matt. xv. 14.)
"As when a string of blind men are clinging one to
the other, neither can the foremost see, nor the middle
one see, nor the hindmost see. Just so, methinks, Vâsittha
is the talk of the Brahmins versed in the Three
Vedas." (Buddha, in the "Tevigga Sutta," i. 15.)
"EUNUCHS FOR THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN'S SAKE."
In the days of St. Thomas à Kempis the worshipper
was modelled on the Christ. In our days, the Christ
seems modelled on the worshipper. The Bodleian professor
of Sanscrit writes thus: "Christianity teaches
that in the highest form of life love is intensified.
Buddhism teaches that in the highest state of existence
all love is extinguished. According to Christianity—Go
and earn your own bread and support
yourself and your family. Marriage, it says, is
honourable and undefiled, and married life a field
where holiness can grow."
But history is history; and a French writer has
recently attacked Christ for attempting to bring into
Europe the celibacy and pessimism of Buddhism.
This author in his work, "Jésus Bouddha," cites
Luke xiv. 26:—
"If any man come to Me, and hate not his father,
and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and
sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be My
disciple."
He adduces also:—
"Let the dead bury their dead."
"Think not that I have come to send peace on
earth: I come not to send peace, but a sword. For I
am come to set a man at variance against his father,
and the daughter against her mother, and the
daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law. And a
man's foes shall be they of his own household."
(Matt. x. 34-36.)
"And the brother shall deliver up the brother to
death, and the father the child; and the children shall
rise up against their parents, and cause them to be
put to death." (Ibid. ver. 21.)
"So likewise, whosoever he be of you that forsaketh
not all that he hath, he cannot be my disciple."
(Luke xiv. 33).
The author says that all this is pure nihilism, and
Essene communism. "The most sacred family ties
are to be renounced, and man to lose his individuality
and become a unit in a vast scheme to overturn the
institutions of his country."
"Qu' importe au fanatisme la ruine de la societé
humaine."
"The anticosmic tendency of the Christian doctrine,"
says Mr. Felix Oswald ("Secret of the East,"
p. 27), "distinguishes it from all religions except
Buddhism. In the language of the New Testament
the 'world' is everywhere a synonym of evil and sin,
the flesh everywhere the enemy of the spirit.... The
Gospel of Buddha, though a pernicious, is, however, a
perfectly consistent doctrine. Birth, life, and re-birth
is an eternal round of sorrow and disappointment.
The present and the future are but the upper and
lower tire of an ever-rolling wheel of woe. The only
salvation from the wheel of life is an escape to the
peace of Nirvâna. The attempt to graft this doctrine
upon the optimistic theism of Palestine has made the
Christian ethics inconsistent and contradictory. A
paternal Jehovah who yet eternally and horribly
tortures a vast plurality of his children. An earth
the perfect work of a benevolent God, yet a vale of
tears not made to be enjoyed, but only to be despised
and renounced. An omnipotent heaven, and yet
unable to prevent the intrigues and constant victories
of hell. Christianity is evidently not a homogeneous
but a composite, a hybrid religion; and considered in
connection with the indications of history, and the
evidence of the above-named ethical and traditional
analogies, these facts leave no reasonable doubt that
the founder of the Galilean Church was a disciple of
Buddha Sakyamuni." (p. 139.)
All this is very well if the Buddhists by "salvation"
meant escape from life, and not from sin. A
"pessimist" Buddhist kingdom, according to this,
ought to present the universal sad faces of the
"Camelot" of a modern school of artists, and yet the
Burmese are pronounced by all to be the merriest and
happiest of God's creatures. We know, too, that
India never was so prosperous as in the days of
Buddhist rule. The monks carried agriculture to
high perfection; and Indian fabrics were famous
everywhere. A convent meant less a career than an
education in spiritual knowledge. Like the Essene,
the Buddhist monk was not forced to remain for life.
Catholicism introduced that change.
"THEN ALL HIS DISCIPLES FORSOOK HIM AND FLED."
It is recorded that on one occasion when a "must"
elephant charged furiously, "all the disciples deserted
Buddha. Ananda alone remained." ("Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king,"
iv. 21.)
"IF THY RIGHT EYE OFFEND THEE."
Mr. Felix Oswald ("The Secret of the East," p. 134)
announces, without however giving a more detailed
reference, that according to Max Muller's translation
of the "Ocean of Worlds," a young monk meets a rich
woman who pities his hard lot.
"Blessed is the woman who looks into thy lovely
eyes!"
"Lovely!" replied the monk. "Look here!" And
plucking out one of his eyes he held it up, bleeding
and ghastly, and asked her to correct her opinion.
WALKING ON THE WATER.
Certain villagers, hard of belief, were listening to
Buddha on the shore of a mighty river. Suddenly
by a miracle the great teacher caused a man to appear
walking on the water from the other side, without
immersing his feet. ("Chinese Dhammapada," p. 51.)
"AND LO! THERE WAS A GREAT CALM."
Pûrna, one of Buddha's disciples, had a brother in
danger of shipwreck in a "black storm." But the
guardian spirits of Pûrna informed him of this. He
at once transported himself through the air from the
distant inland town to the deck of the ship. "Immediately
the black tempest ceased as if Sumeru had
arrested it." (Burnouf, Introd., p. 229.)
A BUDDHA MULTIPLYING FOOD.
Buddha once narrated a story of a former Buddha,
who visited King Sudarsana in his city of Jambunada
(Fu-pen-hing-tsi-king).
Now in that city was a man who was the next day
to be married, and he much wished the Buddha to
come to the feast. Buddha, passing by, read his
silent wish, and consented to come. The bridegroom
was overjoyed, and scattered many flowers over his
house and sprinkled it with perfumes.
The next day Buddha with his alms-bowl in his
hand and with a retinue of many followers arrived;
and when they had taken their seats in due order,
the host distributed every kind of exquisite food,
saying, "Eat, my lord, and all the congregation,
according to your desire."
But now a marvel presented itself to the astonished
mind of the host. Although all these holy men ate
very heartily, the meats and the drinks remained
positively quite undiminished; whereupon he argued
in his mind, "If I could only invite all my kinsmen
to come, the banquet would be sufficient for them
likewise."
And now another marvel was presented. Buddha
read the good man's thought, and all the relatives
without invitation streamed in at the door. They,
also, fed heartily on the miraculous food.
"WHY EATETH YOUR MASTER WITH PUBLICANS AND
SINNERS?" (Matt. ix. 10.)
The Courtesan Amrapalî invited Buddha and his
disciples to a banquet in the mango grove at Vaisalî.
Buddha accepted. Some rich princes, sparkling in
emeralds, came and gave him a similar invitation.
He refused. They were very angry to see him sit at
meat with Amrapalî. He explained to his disciples
that the harlot might enter the kingdom of Dharma
more easily than the prince. (Bigandet, p. 251.)
THE PENITENT THIEF.
Buddha confronts a terrible bandit in his mountain
retreat and converts him. ("Chinese Dhammapada,"
p. 98.)
"THERE WAS WAR IN HEAVEN."
Professor Beal, in his "Catena of Buddhist Scriptures"
(p. 52), tells us that, in the "Saddharma Prâkasa
Sasana Sûtra," a great war in heaven is described.
In it the "wicked dragons" assault the legions of
heaven. After a terrific conflict they are driven
down by Indra and the heavenly hosts.
"THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN IS LIKE UNTO A MERCHANT-MAN
SEEKING GOODLY PEARLS, WHO, WHEN HE
HAD FOUND ONE PEARL OF GREAT PRICE, WENT
AND SOLD ALL THAT HE HAD AND BOUGHT IT."
(Matt. xiii. 45.)
The most sacred emblem of Buddhism is called the
mani (pearl), and in the Chinese biography, a merchant-man
seeking goodly pearls finds it, and unfortunately
drops it into the sea. Rather than lose it he
tries to drain the sea dry. ("Rom. Hist.," p. 228.)
THE VOICE FROM THE SKY.
This sounds often in the Buddhist narratives. (See
Beal, "Rom. Hist.," p. 105.)
FAITH.
"Faith is the first gate of the Law." ("Lalita Vistara,"
p. 39.)
"All who have faith in me obtain a mighty joy."
(Ibid. p. 188.)
"THOU ART NOT YET FIFTY YEARS OLD, AND HAST THOU
SEEN ABRAHAM?"
In the "White Lotus of Dharma" (ch. xiv.) Buddha
is asked how it is that having sat under the bo tree
only forty years ago he has been able, according to his
boast, to see many Buddhas and saints who died
hundreds of years previously. He answers that he
has lived many hundred thousand myriads of Kotis,
and that though in the form of a Buddha, he is in
reality Swayambhu, the Self-Existent, the Father of
the million worlds. In proof of this statement, he
causes two Buddhas of the Past, Prabhûtaratna and
Gadgadesvara, to appear in the sky. The first pronounces
loudly these words: "It is well! It is well!"
These Buddhas appear with their sepulchral canopies
(stupas) of diamonds, red pearls, emeralds, etc. Peter,
at the scene of the Transfiguration, said to Christ:—
"Let us make here three tabernacles, one for Thee,
one for Moses, and one for Elias." Why should Peter
want to adopt a Buddhist custom and build tabernacles
for the dead Moses and the dead Elias? Why, also,
should Moses come from the tomb to support a teacher
who had torn his covenant with Yahve to shreds?
"HE WAS TRANSFIGURED BEFORE THEM."
Buddha, leaving Maudgalyâyana and another disciple
to represent him, went off through the air to the
Devaloca, to the Heaven Tus´ita, to preach to the
spirits in prison and to convert his mother. When
he came down from the mountain (Mienmo), a staircase
of glittering diamonds, seen by all, helped his
descent. His appearance was blinding. The "six
glories" glittered on his person. Mortals and spirits
hymned the benign Being who emptied the hells.
(Bigandet, p. 209.)
In the Gospel according to the Hebrews is a curious
passage, which Baur and Hilgenfeld hold to be
the earliest version of the Transfiguration narrative.
"Just now my mother, the Holy Spirit, took me
by one of my hairs and bore me up on to the great
mountain of Tabor."
This is curious. Buddha and Jesus reach the
Mount of Transfiguration, each through the influence
of his mother. But perhaps the Jewish writer did
not like the universalism inculcated in the Buddhist
narrative.
"HE BEGAN TO WASH THE DISCIPLES' FEET."
(John xiii. 5.)
In a vihâra at Gandhâra was a monk so loathsome
and stinking, on account of his maladies, that
none of his brother disciples dare go near him. The
great Teacher came and tended him lovingly and
washed his feet. ("Chinese Dhammapada," p. 94.)
THE GREAT BANQUET OF BUDDHA.
In the "Lalita Vistara" (p. 51) it is stated that
those who have faith will become "sons of Buddha,"
and partake of the "food of the kingdom." Four
things draw disciples to his banquet,—gifts, soft words,
production of benefits, conformity of benefits.
BAPTISM.
In a Chinese life of Buddha by Wung Puh (see
Beal, "Journ. As. Soc.," vol. xx. p. 172), it is announced
that Buddha at Vaisalî delivered a Sûtra,
entitled, "The baptism that rescues from life and
death and confers salvation."
"AND NONE OF THEM IS LOST BUT THE SON OF
PERDITION."
Buddha had also a treacherous disciple, Devadatta.
He schemed with a wicked prince, who sent men
armed with bows and swords to slaughter Buddha.
Devadatta tried other infamous stratagems. His end
was appalling. Coming in a palanquin to arrest
Buddha, he got out to stretch himself. Suddenly
fierce flames burst out and he was carried down to
the hell Avichi (the Rayless Place). There, in a red-hot
cauldron, impaled by one red bar and pierced by
two others, he will stay for a whole Kalpa. Then he
will be forgiven. (Bigandet, p. 244.)
THE LAST SUPPER.
Buddha had his last supper or repast with his
disciples. A treacherous disciple changed his alms-bowl,
and apparently he was poisoned. (See Rockhill's
"Buddha," p. 133.) Fierce pains seized him as he
journeyed afterwards. He was forced to rest. He
sent a message to his host, Kunda, the son of the
jeweller, to feel no remorse although the feast had
been his death. Under two trees he now died.
It will be remembered that during the last supper
of Jesus a treacherous disciple "dipped into his dish,"
but as Jesus was not poisoned, the event had no
sequence.
"NOW FROM THE SIXTH HOUR THERE WAS DARKNESS
OVER ALL THE LAND UNTIL THE NINTH HOUR."
The critical school base much of their contention
that the gospels do not record real history on this
particular passage. They urge that such an astounding
event could not have escaped Josephus and
Tacitus. When Buddha died, the "sun and moon
withdrew their shining," and dust and ashes fell like
rain. "The great earth quaked throughout. The
crash of the thunder shook the heavens and the earth,
rolling along the mountains and valleys." ("Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king,"
v. 26.) The Buddhist account is
certainly not impossible, for the chronicler takes
advantage of the phenomena of an Indian dust-storm
to produce his dark picture. At Lucknow, before the
siege, I remember a storm so dense at midday that
some ladies with my regiment thought the Day of
Judgment had arrived.
"AND MANY BODIES OF THE SAINTS WHICH SLEPT
AROSE."
When Buddha died at Kus'inagara, Ananda and
another disciple saw many denizens of the unseen
world in the city, by the river Yigdan. (Rockhill's
"Life of the Buddha," p. 133.)
"TO ANOINT MY BODY TO THE BURYING." (Mark xiv. 8.)
The newly discovered fragments of the Gospel of
Peter give striking evidence of the haphazard
way in which extracts from the Buddhist books seem
to have been sprinkled among the gospels. It records
that Mary Magdalene, "taking with her her friends,"
went to the sepulchre of Jesus to "place themselves
beside him and perform the rites" of wailing, beating
breasts, etc. Amrapalî and other courtesans did the
same rites to Buddha, and the disciples were afterwards
indignant that impure women should have
"washed his dead body with their tears." (Rockhill,
"Thibetan Life," p. 153.)
In the Christian records are three passages, all due,
I think, to the Buddhist narrative. In one, "a woman"
anoints Jesus; in John (xii. 7), "Mary" anoints him;
in Luke, a "sinner," who kisses and washes his feet
with her hair. Plainly these last passages are quite
irrational. No woman could have performed the
washing and other burial rites on a man alive and in
health.
"THEY PARTED MY GARMENTS."
The Abbé Huc tells us ("Voyages," ii. p. 278) that on
the death of the Bokté Lama his garments are cut
into little strips and prized immensely.
"HE APPEARED UNTO MANY."
Buddha prophesied that he would appear after his
death. ("Lotus," p. 144.) In a Chinese version
quoted by Eitel ("Three Lectures," p. 57), Buddha
to soothe his mother, who had come down weeping
from the skies, opens his coffin lid and appears to her.
In the temple sculptures he is constantly depicted
coming down to the altar during worship. (See
illustrations to my "Buddhism in Christendom.")
THE "GREAT WHITE THRONE."
Mr. Upham, in his "History of Buddhism" (pp. 56,
57), gives a description of the Buddhist heaven. There
is a "high mountain," and a city "four square" with
gates of gold and silver, adorned with precious stones.
Seven moats surround the city. Beyond the last
one is a row of marble pillars studded with jewels.
The great throne of the god stands in the centre of a
great hall, and is surmounted by a white canopy.
Round the great throne are seated heavenly ministers,
who record men's actions in a "golden book." A
mighty tree is conspicuous in the garden. In the
Chinese heaven is the "Gem Lake," by which stands
the peach tree whose fruit gives immortality.
THE ATONEMENT.
The idea of transferred good Karma, the merits of
the former lives of an individual being passed on to
another individual, is of course quite foreign to the
lower Judaism, which believed in no after life at all.
In the view of the higher Buddhism, Sakya Muni
saved the world by his teaching, but to the lower, the
Buddhism of offerings and temples and monks, this
doctrine of Karma was the life-blood. It was proclaimed
that Buddha had a vast stock of superfluous
Karma, and that offerings at a temple might cause
the worshipper in his next life to be a prince instead
of a pig or a coolie. In the "Lalita Vistara" (Chinese
version, p. 225) it is announced that when Buddha
overcame Mâra all flesh rejoiced, the blind saw, the
deaf heard, the dumb spake, the hells were cleared,
and all by reason of Buddha's Karma in previous
lives.
In Romans (v. 18), St. Paul writes thus:—
"As by the offence of one, judgment came upon all
men to condemnation, even so by the righteousness of
one the free gift came upon all men unto justification
of life.
"For as by one man's disobedience many were made
sinners, so by the obedience of one shall many be
made righteous."
Here plainly all the world is saved by the Karma
of Christ.
Now Dr. Kuenen, whose main proposition is that
Christianity emerged from Judaism alone, should tell
us how Paul got this idea. The priests and the
Levites were the sole interpreters of the law, and
they had settled that a certain Hebrew had so broken
that law that it was necessary to execute him. And
now another Hebrew proclaims that the righteousness
of this man is so great that he can bestow the "free
gift of life" to "all men." Would not Caiaphas have
called the second Hebrew out of his mind.
But St. Paul was a Pharisee, and as a Pharisee he
knew that the Pharisees that he tried to convert
believed that nothing but blood could wipe out sin.
In the person of Christ he mixed up the two ideas.
"Whom God hath set forth to be a propitiation
through faith in His blood, to declare His righteousness
for the remission of sins that are past, through the forbearance
of God." (Rom. iii. 25.)
But according to our first quotation, Christ had
already saved "all men" by his righteousness alone.
Plainly St. Paul, who viewed the Old Testament as
"allegory," "carnal ordinances," "beggarly elements,"
and so on, never meant his trope about Adam's sin to
be taken too literally.
PARABLES.
Buddha taught in parables. I will give one or two.
The reader is referred to my "Popular Life of
Buddha" for some very beautiful ones.
THE PRODIGAL SON.
A certain man had a son who went away into a far
country. There he became miserably poor. The
father, however, grew rich, and accumulated much
gold and treasure, and many storehouses and elephants.
But he tenderly loved his lost son, and secretly
lamented that he had no one to whom to leave his
palaces and suvernas at his death.
After many years the poor man, in search of food
and clothing, happened to come to the country where
his father had great possessions. And when he was
afar off his father saw him, and reflected thus in his
mind: "If I at once acknowledge my son and give to
him my gold and my treasures, I shall do him a great
injury. He is ignorant and undisciplined; he is poor
and brutalised. With one of such miserable inclinations
'twere better to educate the mind little by little.
I will make him one of my hired servants."
Then the son, famished and in rags, arrived at the
door of his father's house; and seeing a great throne
upraised, and many followers doing homage to him
who sat upon it, was awed by the pomp and the
wealth around. Instantly he fled once more to the
highway. "This," he thought, "is the house of the
poor man. If I stay at the palace of the king perhaps
I shall be thrown into prison."
Then the father sent messengers after his son; who
was caught and brought back in spite of his cries and
lamentations. When he reached his father's house he
fell down fainting with fear, not recognising his
father, and believing that he was about to suffer some
cruel punishment. The father ordered his servants
to deal tenderly with the poor man, and sent two
labourers of his own rank of life to engage him as a
servant on the estate. They gave him a broom and a
basket, and engaged him to clean up the dung-heap at
a double wage.
From the window of his palace the rich man
watched his son at his work: and disguising himself
one day as a poor man, and covering his limbs with
dust and dirt, he approached his son and said, "Stay
here, good man, and I will provide you with food and
clothing. You are honest, you are industrious. Look
upon me as your father."
After many years the father felt his end approaching,
and he summoned his son and the officers of the
king, and announced to them the secret that he had
so long kept. The poor man was his son, who in
early days had wandered away from him; and now
that he was conscious of his former debased condition,
and was able to appreciate and retain vast wealth, he
was determined to hand over to him his entire
treasure. The poor man was astonished at this
sudden change of fortune, and overjoyed at meeting
his father once more.
The parables of Buddha are reported in the Lotus
of the Perfect Law to be veiled from the ignorant by
means of an enigmatic form of language. The rich
man of this parable, with his throne adorned by
flowers and garlands of jewels, is announced to be
Tathagata (God), who dearly loves all his children,
and has prepared for them vast spiritual treasures.
But each son of Tathagata has miserable inclinations.
He prefers the dung-heap to the pearl mani. To
teach such a man, Tathagata is obliged to employ
inferior agents, the monk and the ascetic, and to
wean him by degrees from the lower objects of desire.
When he speaks himself, he is forced to veil much of
his thought, as it would not be understood. His sons
feel no joy on hearing spiritual things. Little by
little must their minds be trained and disciplined for
higher truths.
PARABLE OF THE WOMAN AT THE WELL.
Ananda, a favourite disciple of Buddha, was once
athirst, having travelled far. At a well he encountered
a girl named Matanga, and asked her to
give him some water to drink. But she being a
woman of low caste, was afraid of contaminating a
holy Brahmana, and refused humbly.
"I ask not for caste, but for water!" said Ananda.
His condescension won the heart of the girl Matanga.
It happened that she had a mother cunning in love
philtres and weird arts, and when this woman heard
how much her daughter was in love, she threw her
magic spells round the disciple and brought him to
her cave. Helpless, he prayed to Buddha, who forthwith
appeared and cast out the wicked demons.
But the girl Matanga was still in wretched plight.
At last she determined to repair to Buddha himself
and appeal to him.
The Great Physician, reading the poor girl's thought
questioned her gently:—
"Supposing that you marry my disciple, can you
follow him everywhere?"
"Everywhere!" said the girl.
"Could you wear his clothes, sleep under the same
roof?" said Buddha, alluding to the nakedness and
beggary of the "houseless one."
By slow degrees the girl began to take in his meaning,
and at last she took refuge in the Three Great
Jewels.
A common objection to Buddhism is that it fails to
proclaim the fatherhood of God.
"The loving Father of all that lives." (Tsing-tu-wan.)
"Our loving Father and Father of all that breathes."
("Imit. Buddha," p. 67.) (" Daily Manual of the Shaman,"
cited by Mr. Bowden.)
"I am the Heavenly Father (loka pita Swayambhu),
the Healer, the Protector of all creatures." (Kern,
"Lotus," p. 310.)
I will give a pretty parable that pictures Buddha
as a Father.
PARABLE OF THE BLAZING MANSION.
Once there was an old man, broken, decrepit, but
very rich. He possessed much land and many gold
pieces. Moreover, he possessed a large rambling
mansion which also showed plain proofs of Time's
decay. Its rafters were worm-eaten; its pillars were
rotten; its galleries were tumbling down; the thatch
on its roof was dry and combustible. Inside this
mansion were several hundreds of the old man's servants
and retainers, so extensive was the collection of
rambling old buildings.
Unfortunately, this mansion possessed only one door.
The old man was also the father of many children—five,
ten, twenty, let us say. One day there was a
smell of burning, and he ran out by the solitary door.
To his horror he saw the thatch in a mass of flame,
the rotten old pillars were catching fire one by one,
the rafters were blazing like tinder. Inside, his children,
whom he loved most tenderly, were romping
and amusing themselves with their toys.
The distracted father said to himself, "I will run
in and save my children. I will seize them in my
strong arms. I will bear them harmless through the
falling rafters and the blazing beams!" Then the
sad thought seized him that his children were romping
and ignorant. "If I tell them that the house is
on fire they will not understand me. If I try to
seize them they will romp about and try to escape.
Alas! not a moment is to be lost!"
Suddenly a bright thought flashed across the old
man's mind. "My children are ignorant," he mentally
said, "but they love toys and glittering playthings.
I will promise them some playthings of unheard-of
beauty. Then they will listen to me!"
So the old man shouted out with a loud voice,
"Children, children, come out of the house and see
these beautiful toys. Chariots with white oxen, all
gold and tinsel. See these exquisite little antelopes!
Whoever saw such goats as these! Children, children,
come quickly or they will all be gone!"
Forth from the blazing ruin came the children in
hot haste. The word "playthings" was almost the
only word that they could understand. Then the
fond father, in his great joy at seeing his offspring
freed from peril, procured for them some of the most
beautiful chariots ever seen. Each chariot had a
canopy like a pagoda. It had tiny rails and balustrades,
and rows of jingling bells. It was formed of
the seven precious substances. Chaplets of glittering
pearls were hung aloft upon it; standards and wreaths
of the most lovely flowers. Milk-white oxen drew
these chariots. The children were astonished when
they were placed inside.
The meaning of this parable is thus rendered in
the "White Lotus of Dharma." The old man is
Tathagata, and his children the blind, suffering children
of sin and passion. Tathagata fondly loves
them, and would save them from their unhappiness.
The old rambling mansion, unsightly, rotten, perilous,
is the Domain of Karma, the Domain of Appetite. This
old mansion is ablaze with the fire of mortal passions,
and hates, and lusts. Tathagata in his "immense
compassion" would lead all his beloved children
away from this great peril, but they do not understand
his language. Their only thought is of tinsel
toys and childish pastimes. If he speaks to them of
the great inner quickening which makes man conquer
human pain, they cannot understand him. If he
talks to them of wondrous supernatural gifts accorded
to mortals, they turn a deaf ear to him. The tinsel
chariots provided for the children of Tathagata are
the "Vehicles" of the Buddhist teaching.