Note 15 — Chapter II

If Buddha ever deserved the surname of sage, it was assuredly on this occasion that he entitled himself to such an honourable distinction. All nature reversed its course on his account: wonders of the most extraordinary character loudly proclaimed his supereminent excellencies: the most exalted beings united their voices in extolling his transcendent merits, and showing their unbounded respect for his person; all that could dazzle the eye, please the ear, and flatter the heart, was displayed on an unparalleled scale to do honour to him who was about to leave this terrestrial abode. Buddha, however, solemnly declares, and unhesitatingly says to Ananda, that such a display is infinitely below his merits and perfections, and can bear no comparison with his fathomless wisdom and boundless knowledge of truth. Such things, in his opinion, are mere externals, quite destitute of substantial worth; they confer no real honour to him. They, adds he, who truly do honour to me are those who practise all that is enjoined by the most excellent law; nothing short of the observance of the law can please me; the practice of the virtues leading to perfection alone give the right to be called my disciple. My religion can rest firmly only on such solid foundation.

These expressions make every reader understand that, in Buddha’s opinion, religion is not a mere theory, teaching fine moral precepts, destined to excite a vain admiration in the mind, or elicit useless applauses; but it is a moral and practical system, making man acquainted with the duties he has to perform in order to shun vice and practise virtue. Nothing can be more explicit and positive than the notions he entertains of religion. They are worthy of the founder of a religious system now believed and admitted, with more or less considerable variety, by nearly one-fourth, or at least one-fifth, of the great human family. It must be admitted that the high religious sense entertained by Buddha, and communicated in all its purity to his immediate disciples, has almost vanished away in all Buddhist countries. With the people religion consists in certain exterior observances, such as giving alms to the Talapoins, building pagodas, and making offerings during the three months especially consecrated to religious duties. The influence of religious teachers, owing to ignorance and want of zeal, may be thought by many to be almost null, and scarcely felt by the masses of nominal Buddhists. Two causes, however, seem to be the generators and supporters of the religious sentiment that influences the people,—education, and the political institutions. The male portion of the community is brought up in the monasteries by the Phongyies. All the books that are put into their hands, and most of those that they subsequently read, are treatises on religious subjects. This system keeps up, in a wonderful manner, the knowledge of religion, which exercises a great control over the actions of individuals, and regulates their conduct. But, besides, the religious element almost predominates in the body of the civil laws; it acts indirectly upon the people, and must be allowed a great share of influence in all that regards their morals. It is, therefore, to political institutions that Buddhism owes much for the continuation of its existence in these regions. Were it deprived of such a powerful support, there is every reason to believe that it could not perhaps long retain its hold over the masses, when regularly and extensively attacked by the followers of another system. But the first cause is by far the weightier and the more influential.