IF

F "nothing human is foreign" to any man, and if we believe, with Max Müller, that the history of religion is the history of the "divine education of the human race,' then that system of belief which has stood for a religion during thousands of years, to a third of that race, must be one of no little interest to all who care to trace the higher development of humanity. And he who, as its founder, has so mightily influenced the lives and destinies of countless millions, deserves a larger share of attention than many who now usurp a much larger portion of it. Place beside his influence on mankind that of any military hero of ancient or modern history, and the latter sinks into insignificance; and yet, for hundreds who are familiar with the deeds of a Cæsar or a Napoleon, there are, perhaps, a few here and there, who have any but the vaguest ideas to associate with the name of Gautama Buddha. Mr. Morley most reasonably objects to Dr. Draper's "fundamental axiom of history that human progress depends upon increase of our knowledge of the conditions of material phenomena," as if, says Mr. Morley, "moral advance, the progressive elevation of types of character and ethical ideals, were not, at least, an equally important cause of improvement in civilization." To those who think thus, and their number must include all who appreciate the higher issues of man's complex life, the life of the founder of Buddhism must be one of the most important landmarks in the history of mankind, second only in its character and effects to that of the infinitely greater light, the founder of Christianity Himself. For, to those who feel to how great an extent the spiritual history of the present is the outcome of the spiritual history of the past, the passionate yearnings and aspirations of the race towards the mystery of the Infinite, its partial success in groping after a knowledge that ever eludes the human faculties, its ineffectual attempts to solve the old, old problem of human life and the unknown future, and the relation of man to a dimly conceived "Power that makes for righteous

ness,"-must be charged, even in an age of deification of science, with a far deeper and intenser interest than the unconscious growth of Bathybius or Amoeba in ocean depths, or the development of Mollusc or Ascidian in some remote geological period.

Within the last half century, during which, contemporaneously with a growing materialism, there has grown up also, on the other hand, a growing appreciation of the spiritual history of the human race, Buddha and Buddhism have been exciting more and more attention, and have attracted to themselves the careful study of many of the best minds of Europe. Formerly, indeed, all distinct knowledge of either seemed hopelessly enshrouded in myth and mist, and the ideas current even among learned men, were vague in the extreme; as may be seen in the fact that the Manichæans believed Buddha, Christ, · and Mani, to be one and the same person, and that, even in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, books were written to prove Buddha identical with the Egyptian Thoth, or with Mercury, or Wodan, or Zoroaster, or Pythagoras; while even so recent and so profound an Orientalist as Sir William Jones identified him, first with Odin, and afterwards with Shishak, "who, either in person or b ya colony from Egypt, imported into India the mild heresy of the ancient Buddhas." The discovery, however, in 1824, by Mr. Hodgson, English Resident at Nepaul, of the original Buddhist Canon in Sanskrit, preserved in the monasteries there, followed immediately by the discoveries of the Hungarian traveller Csoma de Körös in Thibet, and the researches of Mr. Turnour among the Pali originals of Buddhist sacred literature in Ceylon, gave a new impetus to the study of Buddhism. Among the vigorous and cultivated minds that have given time and labour to the work of disentangling from ancient myths and piles of oriental MSS. some definite solution of a problem so interesting, we find not only French savants and academicians-notably Eugéne Burnouf and M. Barthélemy St. Hilaire and patient German philologists, but also British travellers and

officials, and Christian missionaries, including at least two Roman Catholic Bishops; and by their combined labours it has come to pass that the vague heroic form which had loomed through the mists of ages and the enshrouding folds of myth and fable, as less human than divine, has grown, in the clearer light of the nineteenth century, into something better than a legendary demi-god, a true, living, self-devoted man, full of the "enthusiam of humanity," and, despite his strange missing of the knowledge of God, one of the greatest and purest of uninspired teachers and reformers.

The various names by which Gautama Buddha has been called have been rather puzzling to ordinary readers, who have been hardly able to make out whether there was not more than one historical Buddha. The name Buddha is a generic one, meaning Enlightened, from the root budh, to know, answering somewhat to the Hebrew "Prophet." According to the Buddhist belief, one world has succeeded another from all eternity, following the earliest system of Evolution, and in each of these countless worlds and cycles of time, there have been Buddhas "enlightened" to teach mankind. In the present mundane system they believe that there have been seven great Buddhas, the last and greatest being the Buddha of history, Sakya muni, Gautama Buddha. The first name, meaning monk or hermit of the Sakyas, was probably given to him in later life, as of course was the appellation of Buddha. The name Gautama he took from his clan, and another name, Siddhartha, is said to have been given to him in childhood, though its significance, "he whose desires are accomplished," seems to indicate a later origin. According to Buddhist legend, Gautama was born on the earth at least 550 times before he was born a Buddha, passing from the very lowest forms of existence up to the highest, by the force of unswerving moral purity, love, and charity. When, at last, he was to be born a Buddha, he is said to have selected his own parentage and place of birth. Oriental legend, always prodigal of its marvels towards heroes and saints, has surrounded his birth with every circumstance that could give it dignity and impressiveness in oriental eyes. Flowers lavishly blooming on all sides, ecstatic songs of miraculous birds, sweet strains of musical instruments played without hands, magical banquets undiminished by being

freely partaken of, splendours of gold and silver, and of an unearthly glory, brighter than sun or moon, were among the portents that glorified the palace and heralded the birth of the Buddha. How to disentangle the real history of the man from the accretion of myth and marvel has been a work of no small difficulty and delicacy. As Max Müller remarks, it is by no means a safe process to "distil history out of legend by simply straining the legendary through the sieve of physical possibility," since many things which are physically possible, may be invention, while others, which seemed impossible, "have been reclaimed as historical, after removing from them the thin film of mythological phraseology." The very existence of such a man as Gautama Sakya Muni has been sup posed to be mythical, and the significance of the names of himself, his family, and his birth-place, been brought forward in proof of this hypothesis. Probably, we shall best approximate the truth as to the personal history of the recluse of Kapilavastu, by following mainly Max Müller in the brief and rational sketch he has given of the life of this wonderful man, as handed down by tradition, and committed to writing before the close of the First Century.*

The time which Max Müller holds to be the most probable date of the death of the Buddha is 477 B. C., which would place his birth about 556 B. C. It was a time when a splendid cluster of great minds shone together in the intellectual sky. Confucius, in China, and Pythagoras, Xenophanes, and Heraclitus, in Greece, were contemporaneous, or nearly so, with Gautama; while in Western Asia the Hebrew prophets, Daniel, Ezra, Nehemiah, Habakkuk, Obadiah, and Zephaniah lived and taught, during some part of the life of the great Indian reformer. Kapilavastu, his birth-place, was the capital of a province of the same name at the foot of the mountains of Nepaul, north of the present Oude. Its site and ruins were visited by Fahian in the fifth century, and by Hiouen Thsang, the great Chinese Buddhist, two centuries later. Suddhodana, the father of Gautama, was King of Kapilavastu,

In the sketch which follows, the writer has followed-as well as Max Müller-the interesting life of Buddha given by Mr. C. D. Mills, an American writer, in his "Buddha and Buddhism," as this is in some respects fuller.

chatter, his body is wasted away; leaning on his stick he is hardly able to walk, stumbling at every step. Is there something peculiar in his family, or is this the common lot of all created beings?" "Sir," replied the coach man, "that man is sinking under old age, his senses have become obtuse, suffering has destroyed his strength, and he is despised by his relations. He is without support and useless, and people have abandoned him, like a dead tree in a forest. But this is not peculiar to his family. In every creature youth is defeated by old age. Your father, your mother, all your relations, all your friends, will come to the same state; this is the appointed end of all creatures." "Alas!" replied the Prince," are creatures so ignorant, so weak and foolish, as to be proud of the youth by which they are intoxicated, not seeing the old age which awaits them? As for me, I go away. Coachman, turn my chariot quickly. What have I-the future prey of old agewhat have I to do with pleasure?" And he returned at once to the palace.

On another occasion, as Gautama was proceeding to his beautiful pleasure-garden of Lumbini, he encountered a poor fever-stricken wretch lying alone, parched, wasted, covered with mud--hardly able to breathe, and expecting with terror the approach of death. This sight, also, sent him back with sadness to his palace, with the exclamation, "Where is the wise man who, having seen what he is, could any longer think of joy and pleasure?" Once again, he was met on his way by the sight of a dead body borne on a bier by sobbing and lamenting friends. Finding this also to be the common lot of humanity, he broke out into the exclamation-" Oh! woe to the youth that must be destroyed by old age! Woe to health, which must be destroyed by so many diseases! Woe to this life where a man remains so short a time! there were no old age, no disease, no death! If these could be made captive for ever! Let us turn back," he added. "I must think how to accomplish deliverance."

If

The course he was to pursue was determined by another meeting. This time it was a religious mendicant who, calm, restful, and dignified in his bearing, as, clad in his distinguishing robe, he plodded on his way, attracted the attention of the Prince. "Who

is this man?" he asked. "Sir," replied the coachman," this man is one of those who are called bhikshus, or mendicants. He has re

nounced all pleasures, all desires, and leads a life of austerity. He tries to conquer himself. He has become a devotee. Without passion, without envy, he walks about asking for alms." "This is good and well said," replied the Prince. "The life of a devotee has always been praised by the wise. will be my refuge, and the refuge of other creatures; it will lead us to a real life, to happiness and immortality." His wife,

It

Gautama's resolve was taken. to whom he first communicated it, finding dissuasion impossible, sorrowfully acquiesced. His father tried every means to turn him from his purpose-would have bribed him with promises of immediate and unlimited power. But one thing he could not givethe one thing Gautama sought. "Give me," he said, "that I may know the method of exemption from old age, disease, death; or give me, at least, that I shall know no transmigration in the world beyond, and I will cheerfully remain with thee ever." But such assurance was beyond the king's power to give; he was subject himself to the common doom.* Seeing that persuasion was fruitless, he sought by force to prevent Gautama from carrying out his purpose. Guards were set at the gates of the town, and the king himself, with five hundred young Sakyas, watched the palace. But one night, when sleep had overcome the watchers, Gautama bade his coachman saddle his horse. Taking one last look at his sleeping wife and child, he did not venture-says the legend-to remove the young mother's hand from the baby's face, lest by his awaking, his resolution might be weakened. "After I have become Buddha," he is reported to have said, "I will see the child ;" and the boy, as well as his mother, were afterwards numbered among his followTaking a last look at the palace and the town, he said, sadly and tenderly, "Never shall I return again to this city of Kapila, until I shall have attained the cessation of birth and death, exemption from old age and decay, and reached the pure intelligence." The saying was so far realized that he did not again see his birth-place until he returned, twelve years after, to preach the new faith. At twelve leagues from Kapila he dismissed his coachman with his horse and all his per

ers.

Gautama's abrupt flight was the disgust awakened by

* Some accounts say that the immediate cause of

the exhibition of a troop of dancing girls, sent to entertain him in his apartments.